|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Apr 12, 2009 7:24 pm
E'rik was torn between saying something more and slightly cutting, like the fact that Mal was clearly delusional if he thought he was any kind of pretty (okay, so it wasn't cutting, but somewhere between concept and expression he could make it so), and going along with it. The choice would have been more difficult if Mal hadn't tried to flick his short hair behind his shoulders. That made his decision infinitely easier. He turned to scrutinize Mal, drawing his surveillence out to what could have been an uncomfortable length as he looked Mal over thoroughly.
Finally he met Mal's eyes reluctantly and said, "I didn't want to say anything, but you're right. You are pretty. You're beautiful. Faranth! You're the Goldrider's son! Suddenly it all makes sense! Why didn't you tell me? I would have happily broken your nose for you any time you asked." As he spoke he began to gesticulate melodramatically and his tone became aggrieved. "How could I not have seen it sooner? I have failed you as a friend."
His movements and affected dismay were sufficient to wake Daramulath somewhat. The brown raised his head and blinked sleepily, the facets of his eyes showing a contented blue. He looked at E'rik to ascertain that his dismay was feigned and then looked searchingly at Mal, trying to figure out what he had missed when he dozed off.
What am I supposed to mind? he asked E'rik.
Forced to divide his attention between two conversations, E'rik carefully replied, Mal's come up with a shortening of your full name: Dara.
And I'm supposed to mind?
I don't know. Do you? E'rik replied. Daramulath said in response that he only minded if E'rik did, and since E'rik did not, then he did not.
"Sorry," he said, turning his attention back to Mal. "He says he doesn't mind."
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 12, 2009 8:05 pm
…Ok, now things were getting creepy… Mal loved a good look-over by an attractive male and all----and, let’s face it, E’rik had his strong points----but this was his friend. The only romance going on here was a good bromance, and he wasn’t willing to trade that for anything. His discomfort only increased as E’rik suddenly announced that Mal was pretty. Not only that, but he was beautiful. Welp! That was about Mal’s cue to skitter off before E’rik went completely insane. Clearly he’d been out in the sun too long. Thankfully, E’rik went on to explain things a little bit, showing that, yes, he was still straight and utterly uninterested in Mal.
Thank Faranth! Once again, the back of Mal’s hand went up to his forehead in a thoroughly overdone gesture. “Oh, my dearest friend! At last, you know the horrible truth! To save me from a life of people trying to kill me, my mother chose to send me off to the Harpers so I could reach my full potential safely. But, alas! I was discovered last Turn, which forced me to flee from my home and friends! And then they found me. E’rik, you have no idea how annoying it is to find someone new in your bed furs all the time. They just sit there. Waiting. In their creeptastic stalker ways. I am such a horrible friend that I never told you the truth before! But you just have no idea how difficult it is to be this pretty!” At the last few words, he lay flat on his back, playing dead for a brief while.
Because, you know. Being attractive would totally be horrible for a Harper. For anyone, really. He opened one eye to glance over at E’rik as the rider suddenly changed topics and then sat back up.
“Oh good. That’s a huge relief. See, I’ve been working on a list of people to avoid annoying and dragons of all sorts are on it. Actually, the list would include anyone over twenty feet long and capable of breathing fire, but that’s pretty much all dragons. Riders are also on the list, course, seeing as they could tell their dragon how delicious I am otherwise.” By this point, he assumed he must be pretty darn delicious, considering how often Aeron tried to get a taste.
Speaking of Aeron… the little firelizard was tired of his present being ignored and clambered into Mal’s lap now to retrieve it. Mal, very, very carefully, did absolutely nothing to jostle or startle the flitt. Thankfully, everything went perfectly fine and Aeron eventually perched on Mal’s knee, happily nomming on the trundlebug.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2009 7:58 am
Mal's discomfort had been totally worth it. An adequate revenge for the crack about E'rik showing up to a battle of wits unarmed. The chance that Mal might've found the whole thing too odd and hit him had been slim enough to chance it. It had actually been fairly difficult for E'rik to go through the charade of being even remotely interested in Mal. For one thing, he had no idea what parts of Mal's anatomy he was supposed to let his eyes linger on, and meeting Mal's gaze even momentarily it had been difficult to suppress his laughter.
"I understand completely. And now I can finally allow myself to relax and dismiss the fact that I find you inexpressibly attractive. It's just an instinctive reaction that everyone has to your cursed appearance, and so I can ignore it. So...is your mother a Goldrider here at Ista, or elsewhere, you poor, unfortunate soul? No, it has to be another Weyr. No one here can compare to your good looks." He wondered if he could actually convince Nan and Elae that this was Mal's deep, dark, secret, dramatic past. If it was true, it would be the sort of thing that could make a gossip famous for the rest of her life.
Is he all right? Daramulath asked E'rik.
E'rik peered at his friend's prone form with mild interest and replied in the affirmative, but that was not enough to satisfy Daramulath, who clambered off his lap, one wingtip clipping E'rik's chin as he went to investigate. He moved closer until he could breathe his fairly fetid breath into Mal's face as he gave him a thorough going-over. The sight was one E'rik wished he could put on paper or something, but he lacked the artistic skills necessary to capture the scene. He hoped Mal was enjoying Dara's breath. He always did, early in the morning. Not.
"And, no, I haven't the faintest clue how annoying it must be, but I'm sure it's fairly unnerving to always have someone in your bed furs. At least they're always warm?" One of the best uses E'rik had found for girlfriends was that they made excellent bedwarmers, and could often be convinced to bring him food. Sometimes they even made the food themselves, which was a mixed blessing, but a sweet gesture. "Do they ever bring offerings to lay at the altar of your divine beauty with the hope of convincing you to sleep with them?"
"Good luck avoiding dragons. You've really picked the wrong place for it. And I think Daramulath likes you." At E'rik's mental urging, Daramulath obediently extended his neck until his muzzle was near Mal's face and licked him. He didn't understand, quite, why E'rik wanted him to do that, but he did it because he was generally an easy-going, accommodating fellow.
However, when Aeron came closer and moved into Mal's lap, Dara obstinately refused to back off. He didn't want Mal, but he didn't want the inferior creature to get the idea that he was backing down and acceding to his authority. He was not impressed by the firelizard's hunting skills or the firelizard himself, and had decided that he would never remember the insignificant creature's name. Trundlebugs. Pathetic. He would bring E'rik great prey when he was large enough.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2009 12:00 pm
Mal, still flat on his back, gave a dramatic heave of a sigh. “Oh, don’t worry about your irresistible attraction to me, E’rik; everyone feels it. Although, I admit it, it is rather awkward to find a girl in your bed and then, the morning after, she says she’s a lesbian. Makes me doubt everything, you know?” Because, of course, a Goldrider’s son’s physical beauty would totally transcend silly things like sexual orientation.
Wait, things were getting even better as more ideas occurred to Mal. He lifted a finger to silence his friend. “Alas,” he started, making use of an already overused word, “My friend, my mother is dead. Obviously, she must be. People couldn’t just let her stay alive. Why, she might have another child then and the world would be overrun with beautiful people such as myself! Nothing would ever get done! Also, we’d cause a lot of accidents as people stare longingly at us and trip over their own feet.” Ha! Now, if they could get Elae and Nan to believe this load of wherry-dung, Mal’s life would truly be complete. Still, he had some faith in humanity and refused to believe that anyone could be this gullible.
Come on… a murdered parent, a secret family, and all he wanted to do was grow up to be a humble Harper? No one could believe that! Right?
More important things too precedence as the foulest smell came up Mal’s nose. His nose, against his own will, scrunched up and attempted to run away from the odor. Unfortunately, the stench was right there. And, honestly, noses couldn’t run very far away. He opened one eye to see Dara investigating him. Mal decided that the best thing to do would be to remain very, very still.
“Actually, it’s far worse when they bring shrines. Or when they try to bring me to their shrine. Shards, but you’d think I’d stop falling for the old, ‘come here; I’ve got sweet fruits for you!’ trick by now. Especially when it becomes clear that I’m being led down a long and dark hallway instead of anywhere where there might be dried fruits.” Of course a Goldrider’s son would be that innocent, as innocent as he is beautiful. It made sense, riiiight? Mal regretted speaking, though, since it meant he had to breathe in Dara’s breath. “I didn’t say I wanted to avoid dragons. I want to avoid annoying them. Slight difference. I love dragons. Just not when they’ve got stinky breath.” He hesitated a moment before lifting a hand to Dara’s head and scratching the little Brown’s eyeridges. “Yeah, you’re a good one, Dara.”
Aeron did not think so. The Bronze’s wings stiffened at the sight of that… that creature waddling up to his human. Waddling! At first, Aeron tried hissing and snarling at the Brown, with a few feinted lunges as well. This failed to do anything. Well, fine… Aeron decided to take things up a notch. In some dumb animal way, he knew that attacking Dara would be pretty stupid. But, he could certainly continue to threaten him in ever greater ways! In this case, he went right up close to Dara’s face and hissed more loudly.
Yeah. That was threatening alright.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2009 1:28 pm
E'rik didn't bother suppressing the amused snort that accompanied his mental image of Mal waking up to find a lesbian in his bed. Until coming to Ista Weyr, E'rik had been only dimly aware that men could be attracted to each other, and for whatever reason it had never occurred to him that women might be similarly capable of being attracted to members of their own sex. Then he'd come to the Weyr and found that a large portion of the men he met were, in fact, gay, and a higher-than-average percentage of the women were openly homosexual. It had been a startling thing for him, and initially difficult to accept, but in the sevendays that had passed since his arrival he'd gotten more used to it. Still, he was conscious of the fact that his joking with Mal was more likely to be believed here than it would have been at the Hall, and he decided he'd have to curb it.
"I'm sorry to hear that, but I can understand how people must have felt threatened by whatever beauty spawned you. It probably came down to a choice: kill you or kill her, and (being the good parent we all know dragonriders to be) she chose to sacrifice herself to save you. It was a tragic, noble death. Someone should write a song about it."
Actually, the more thought E'rik put into it, the more likely he found it that he'd be able to convince at least one of the gossip girls of the veracity of the story. Maybe not the whole of it, but a good portion. After all, he was Mal's best friend at the Weyr, theoretically. He would be expected to know these things. He could definitely convince them Mal's mother was dead. And probably that she had been extremely beautiful. He might even be able to lead them to the conclusion that she had been a goldrider, if he left them the right clues. Saying it outright would make it unbelievable. But if he simply kept alluding to it...maybe.
"Well, you're an eternal optimist. I hope no one's done anything too awful to you in their shrines."
"Dara," E'rik said, trying out the nickname.
The brown dragonet sat back on his haunches to grant Mal a reprieve and allow him to sit up, though he didn't pull far enough away that Mal's fingers couldn't reach him and scratch his eyeridges. Having a firelizard had obviously given Mal plenty of practice in the correct way to rub a dragon. His second eyelids closed with pleasure as he enjoyed Mal's attentions.
Maybe we can keep him to do this so you can have your hands free to make music? he suggested, provoking laughter from E'rik.
"Daramulath suggests that you might like to make scratching him your permanent profession so that I can entertain him with music," he explained. Watching Aeron's reaction, however, he was forced to add, "I don't think Aeron would approve of the idea, however."
Daramulath's eyes snapped open when Aeron hissed at him, and then whirled faintly orange. If the little snapper thought he was a threat, Dara could treat him like one. He hissed back, flaring his wings to make himself look larger, and snapped his teeth, though he took care that his teeth come nowhere near the firelizard. He knew he would get in trouble if he bit or ate the annoyance.
E'rik watched with raised eyebrows and unobtrusively put his hand around the tip of Dara's tail, ready to try to yank him back if necessary.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2009 6:23 pm
The fact that people were not only openly homosexual, but actually accepted as they were, was a huge surprise to Mal. Harper Hall was one of the more tolerant Halls, but that was merely… tolerance and not acceptance. Even if E’rik hadn’t noticed the treatment, Mal certainly had. There wasn’t any violence, really. Well, rarely, anyway. And, once the perpetrator was caught, they would inevitably be turned out from the Hall. But there were other things that made him decide to keep things to himself. Namely, it was the loss of respect. He’d seen what had happened to Cytal once she came out. The moment she came out, people stopped treating her like a person and more like some silly child who had made a mistake. Or like her love was some sort of a phase, one that she would outgrow.
Admittedly, Mal didn’t get a whole lot of respect anyway, but he was fairly intent on clinging to what he could get.
But here… there were people in high places who were gay and they didn’t lose any of their authority. It was nice. Accepting. It was just another part of life here, as simply as heterosexuality was. But that was an entirely different soapbox that he didn’t want to touch today.
“No, wait. I’ve got a better idea. She was murdered in front of me when I was just a little babe. And they were going to kill me too, but my gorgeous little baby eyes stunned them into a series of coos and ahhs. Because nothing can disarm a killer better than a wide-eyed baby. The entire memory is just so tragic that I have no recollection of it. It was that dramatic and horrible. Sob.” He smiled with pleasure at how much Dara enjoyed the attention. It was nice, he had to admit, to not get his fingers bitten for scratching the eyeridges wrong or something. Aeron was just ornery.
He gave off another bark-like laugh at the suggestion that Dara might steal him away for the purpose of eyeridge scratching. “Well, I have to admit, it is one of my finer qualities. But I think all my fake-admirers would be jealous if I was snatched away to scratch your eyeridges all day, Dara. That and Aeron would kill me.”
Speaking of Aeron… most creatures would have backed down from a fight with a much larger creature, especially one that could eat him in just a few bites (and that was if Dara felt dainty). But not the Bronze firelizard! If anything, the reaction goaded him on more. The firelizard reared up on his hind legs and hissed more loudly, as if mere volume would win this fight. Mal watched warily, which put a stop to his scratching activities. He knew the firelizard better than anyone and subtly slipped his sleeve over his hand.
“Aeron! Hey, Aeron! Lookit this! It’s the hand monster!” Now that got Aeron’s attention, as silly as it was. The firelizard continued to glare up at Dara but, since Mal was paying attention to him, he decided he could ignore the dragon as unimportant. And then he pounced on the hand, like a little feline cub. Judging by Mal’s winces, the firelizard still didn’t have much of a concept of his own teeth and claws though.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 14, 2009 8:19 am
E'rik listened to the additional details Mal concocted for the events surrounding his infancy, and while he found the idea that Mal's innocent, wide-eyed baby face had saved his life from the heartless men who had murdered his mother, he was able to pick out one immediate flaw with the story.
"Er...If you found the memory so tragic and traumatic that you've no recollection of it, how is that you were able to recount it to me in order that I may spread the gospel of Mal?" He wasn't being difficult, he told himself. He was merely anticipating the questions he would be asked if he actually tried to spread that tale. Just because a person was annoying one couldn't assume that they were also stupid. In fact, in the case of gossips it was unlikely that they were stupid, since their trade involved the ability to recall and connect random facts to create a cohesive whole. When viewed in that light, one could almost respect Nan and Elae's efforts if they didn't, by definition, infringe on a person's privacy.
I am a dragon. I keep Pern safe from Thread. People are supposed to make sure that I'm happy and well cared for, Daramulath pointed out, indicating to E'rik that he should relay this to Mal.
"Dara says that the fact that he's a dragon means no one can object to you being converted into an eye-ridge scratcher, since he's a protector of Pern. I don't know where he got this idea. It wasn't from me."
Aeron's reaction to Dara's hissing and teeth snapping made E'rik take a firmer grip on the dragonet's tail in the hope of reminding the little brown of his manners. Daramulath obviously noticed what E'rik was doing, but he was so incensed that a firelizard would think to take umbrage with him, and actually stand up with him that his outrage got the better of him. It startled E'rik how vehemently Dara was reacting to Aeron, actually, since the dragonet was usually so easy to get along with. Maybe it would be better if he never got a firelizard.
"Daramulath," he said warningly, and then added, He's just a firelizard. He's not worth getting so upset about.
But he started it! Daramulath protested. And, look! He attacks his bondmate. He's clearly flawed.
E'rik didn't release Dara's tail, but he ran his free hand through his hair, tugging at the ends. Small signs of stress. Yes, they were definitely there. And as he watched Mal draw Aeron's attention away he replied to Dara, You're deliberately misconstruing things. They're playing.
Daramulath sent E'rik a vague feeling of skepticism which surprised E'rik. He didn't know dragons as young as Dara could be skeptics. There was one green in Dara's clutch that seemed to be afraid of her own shadow, but skepticism seemed like a learned trait. He hoped it wasn't his fault. He'd feel guilty if he had somehow managed to pervert his dragon. Not that skeptcism was perverted, but...It just didn't seem like something he should be feeling from a dragonet.
"Behave," E'rik hissed, reinforcing the command mentally. Daramulath crawled back to his lap with a demeanor that was clearly sulky, his expression somehow seeming to be a scowl as he regarded Aeron.
"I'm sorry, Mal," E'rik said, feeling a little like someone whose large dog just frightened someone else's child into peeing on their shoe.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 14, 2009 6:23 pm
Mal opened his mouth and raised one finger, ready to launch into a long and complicated reason why he could have amnesia and a wonderful memory at the same time. Then he shut his mouth. And then he lowered the finger. “Wait. Was this the story that we were planning on spreading around?” he asked, slightly confused. Sure, he had been thinking about it and was willing to bet that E’rik had considered it too, but… the thought had, for all practical purposes, ended there. There were a few odd words here and there, but they hardly mattered in the long-run.
“I’d rather see what sort of stuff they could come up with on their own. Now, if they DO come up with a story about me being a murdered Goldrider’s son, then I’d probably die laughing. I’d be the cheeriest corpse ever. It would have to be a closed-casket type funeral, because I think my glassy grin would frighten everyone away.” Besides, he was curious to see what E’rik would come up with and how much he could mislay the gossipers. “Besides, it wouldn’t be an experiment if we knew what the result would be.”
Aww… maybe Dara had a point there. Mal scratched one cheek again in thought, considering just how much dragons did for Pern and how little they got in return. Sure they got food and all, but that didn’t seem like enough. Well, and companions, he supposed, in the form of dragonriders. “You know, I propose a change in the Candidate curriculum. Instead of running around changing glows and that sort of thing, I propose that a Candidate’s duty include eyeridge scratching. Think of it! It would keep Candidates from getting all terrified of dragons and everything. And it would keep the dragons happy, unless some Candidate is really clumsy and pokes the poor guy in the eye.”
Now that the anger had been diffused---or perhaps transferred, would be a better term---Mal reluctantly abandoned his eyeridge scratching and played with Aeron. It was a silly game. There seemed to be no actual point to it besides to scuffle around in the dirt and let the firelizard maul his hand. But, that’s what sleeves were for! As if he would wear sleeves for any other reason in this weather. “I’m sorry about Aeron, actually. Dara seems like a pretty calm sort. Aeron’s just…” he shrugged helplessly. “Aeron.”
There really was no other word for the pointlessly vicious little creature. Some people were just born mean, Mal guessed. The same apparently held true for firelizards. “I think he just gets jealous if I pay attention to something that isn’t him.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Apr 14, 2009 8:02 pm
Well. E'rik could try spreading it around. He really wanted to, actually, but Mal's demeanor said that their complicated story wasn't the one his dark-haired friend purported as truth. He supposed he could understand the difficulties inherent in trying to convince people of such a story, but it was so unbelievable, it just might work! If he played it right, anyway. But, apparently, that wasn't what Mal wanted him to tell people. Fine. He could come up with something else.
"It doesn't have to be," E'rik replied. "I could strain my brain a little harder and think of something else to tell them if you'd prefer. But is it all right if I leave them clues to guide them toward the Goldrider's son idea?"
There was always the likelihood that they would put his hints together wrong and imagine Mal as the b*****d son of a Lord Holder or something.
"Can I at least pretend that your father is the Masterharper?" he asked. "It would go so perfectly with the Goldrider mother story. Even if you decide to force me to be creative. I admit, I had forgotten about the social experiment aspect."
Of course, the present Masterharper was not a man who could beget children of such stunning good looks that it was necessary to slay them for the general good of Pern, no matter how beautiful a woman he might sleep with in the attempt. It wasn't that the man was ugly; he was homely. But he could play any instrument he set his hands to, and make them do things no one else could. E'rik was, of course, strongly affected by music, but on the few occasions he'd heard the Masterharper play it had been...transcendental? It had, however, adversely affected his practicing for a while, since he figured he would never be so talented, and it was futile to even try.
Tell your friend that I like his curriculum. I would like to reserve him as my personal eyeridge scratcher, if that could be arranged, Dara said as he nestled on E'rik's lap once more. The brief reprieve had almost been sufficient to restore bloodflow. And also tell him that I can close my eyes faster than any human can poke them.
"It does sound like a good idea. Daramulath approves and wants to reserve you as his personal eyeridge scratcher. He also says it's unlikely that anyone would poke a dragon in the eye, since they can apparently close their eyes very rapidly." He hadn't known that, but it made sense if they were to fight Thread. They would have to be able to close their eyes quickly to prevent Threadscoring. He wondered if it would ever have come up, though, and felt an almost irresistible urge to try poking Dara's eye.
Please don't, was all that the dragonet said, reading his intentions and making him feel guilty.
"There's nothing to be sorry about. Our respective companions seem to antagonise each other, and though it's probably more impressive for Aeron to antagonise Daramulath, I don't think it's your fault in any way. Unless you secretly harbor some passionate dislike for me that your firelizard is displaying? I've heard some people's firelizards act on their subconscious feelings."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 15, 2009 5:50 pm
Mal considered the idea of deliberately leaving clues behind in an attempt to steer the gossipy girls towards the ‘truth’. It was pretty sharding hilarious. Once again, he attempted to stroke his non-existent beard and tried his best to look diabolical. It would have gone better if he could stop grinning in such a manner. They could really do it, couldn’t they? E’rik was clever enough to leave just the right clues and Mal… well, he was a man who could trick, swindle, bamboozle, and con others into believing him. As a Harper, he had sung; now he just played people. “Sure. You can leave whatever clues you like. Even the Masterharper story, if you want. Although I thought you had nothing but utter respect for the man.”
Hmm… as for himself, Mal wanted something simpler. More elegant. E’rik could use all the flash he wanted, but Mal knew better. The trick here was to let them figure out what he wanted them to know, not bash them over the head with ‘facts’. Now this was the sort of thing that got his mind moving; forget the endless memorizing of facts that haunted the more scholarly Harpers, or the songs already written: Mal yearned for creativity and chaos. Something fun!
Following a dragon around and scratching his eyeridges all day just wouldn’t compare, but he could certainly humor Dara for a little while. “So what would my duties include? Following the pair of you around all day and scratching his eyeridges? Oh, I would never steal the pleasure from E’rik, Dara. Besides, if I don’t keep my eye on Aeron, who knows what sort of trouble he’d get into?” The firelizard would probably harass every dragon in the Weyr. Either that, or he’d just focus on Dara. Poor guy. Finally found a decent eyeridge scratcher and he was already taken.
Mal temporarily stopped playing with Aeron to consider the idea of firelizards showing their humans hidden desires. “Then apparently I have a secret desire to annoy dragons, get my fool self killed, and eat trundlebugs. Oh! And also leave dead things in people’s beds as a gesture of affection. I’d be more concerned about your apparent secret desires. It goes without saying that dragons are far more intelligent than flitts and far closer to their humans. Which means YOU, my dear E’rik, must have some secret desire for me to follow you around all day, scratching your eyeridges.”
Huh. Subconscious, huh? He hoped not. He knew his subconscious and felt that it should not be able to run around rampant in the form of an adorable and vicious firelizard.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Apr 16, 2009 8:10 am
E'rik made a sincere effort not to grin at Mal's attempts to stroke a beard which did not seem inclined to grow in. It was unfortunate, being a young man of twenty (though he recalled Mal was somewhat younger) and unable to grow a respectable beard. E'rik was in the same state, mind, but it didn't bother him, because he was not given so much to trying to stroke imaginary beards. He occasionally rubbed his chin as he thought, but it was a very different sort of motion. Definitely more of a rubbing sort of thing than a stroking sort.
"No, I'll probably just generate random facts without regard for whether they conflict or not. Let them try to figure out what they want to keep and what they want to disregard. In the end, that's far less work for me, and more work for them. Besides, as you said, I like the Masterharper. It would be such a let-down for him, I suspect, if you were his son. Going off like you did, and then deciding to be a Dragonrider. I think his heart would break if any of his blood abandoned the Hall."
That would be inconvenient. No, Dara said. When I want to have my eyeridges scratched, you will be sent for. Tell him that, please?
E'rik blinked in astonishment at his suddenly imperious little brown. he didn't think the dragon's sense of entitlement was misplaced, but he was still astounded by it. Dara had never shown any signs of being demanding, except when he wanted fed. How could he not realize that his dragon had this facet to his personality? Weren't dragons and riders supposed to know each other intimately from the moment of Impression? Nevertheless, he conveyed Dara's response.
"He says that you would be sent for when he required your services. And made no mention of Aeron. I get the feeling he doesn't particularly care if you end up neglecting Aeron in his favor. I, however, might feel neglected, knowing that my dragon prefers someone else's eyeridge scratchings over mine. I wonder if that's occurred to him."
Evidently it hadn't, for Dara's eyes, which had been returning to blue, showed tinges of alarm. I would not really prefer your Mal-friend to you. I was playing your kind of game. The kind with words. That's what you like best, isn't it? You don't really think I don't love you best in all ways? The two of you were both standing there. I could have chosen him. I didn't.
E'rik patted his dragon's shoulder fondly and replied, I know I'm your favorite. Don't worry.
I chose you. This was emphatic. E'rik wondered how it could be that he didn't mind this kind of devotion from Daramulath, but would have run for the hills if a girl had ever shown signs of being so attached to him. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Dara could probably beat him to the hills.
"Hm. Perhaps not. Or perhaps I misinterpreted what I was told." E'rik shrugged. "Although I'd almost believe the part about getting your fool self killed. For someone who claims to be a coward with a great survival instinct, you do put yourself in a lot of situations which could be considered perilous. Not the least of which denying this fearsome monster on my lap anything he wants."
"And I thought it went without saying that I wanted nothing more than that out of life. All this Harpering and Dragonriding is just a way to pass the time until I find someone who rubs me the right way. Not necessarily you."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Apr 17, 2009 9:40 pm
It was a mind-over-matter sort of thing, Mal figured. If he wanted a beard, shard it all, one day he would get one. Until then, he’d just have to settle for funny looks whenever he stroked the imaginary facial hair.
“Correction: I decided to become a Candidate for the time being,” Mal said, lifting up one finger as if this was an extremely important point. Actually, technically, he had decided to run off to another Hold, change his name, and then struggle for the next Turn, but that wasn’t something up for conversation right now. It wasn’t exactly a time he wanted to remember right now. At least he had been Searched under his true name; that was one point of which he was moderately proud. “Also I’ve become an Apprentice Dragonscratcher as well. Far more rewarding than Harpercraft. Certainly causes fewer headaches. Also I think there’s a slightly lower chance of rotten things being thrown at me.”
D’aww… Dara certainly was adorable, wasn’t he? The ex-Harper didn’t think that the Brown was being serious, but it was rather amusing to think so. It was patently obvious that the little dragon preferred E’rik over everyone else, a fact that Mal couldn’t blame him for. They were two halves of the same mind, right? Meanwhile, one sixteenth of Mal’s mind was off eating trundlebugs. It seemed appropriate, somehow.
“Oh, come on. I haven’t done anything remotely dangerous recently!” he protested. Provided you designated ‘recently’ as within the past two sevendays, anyway. And then only for a certain amount of ‘dangerousness’. Really, how could you define such a thing? He paused for a moment. “…Well, except for cheating in that game. I guess that could’ve been dangerous if I was actually caught.” Another brief pause. “And Impressing Aeron. But I couldn’t’ve known that at the time.” Another long pause. “And following a grumpy Greenrider around. But that was mostly curiosity. See? Nothing dangerous at all!”
There was a longer pause now as Mal apparently gave something careful consideration. Such a time was dangerous. “You know, if firelizards represent the subconscious desires of their people, then dragons would represent the conscious desires. ‘Cause they’re closer, you know? So, if I have a subconscious desire to eat trundlebugs, you must have a conscious desire to make me give you scratches.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 18, 2009 6:39 am
A thought occurred to E'rik, something he had noticed about his little brother when he was home: he had grown a beard. When he asked his sister about it, she had told him that their younger brother had given up on waiting for his beard to come in, and begun scraping a razor across his chin and jaw in hopes. The result was nil at first, but eventually, after several sevendays of dedicated shaving, the hair had started to grow back darker and thicker. When he read her letter initially, E'rik had been perturbed that his younger brother would have more facial hair than he, but he had been unwilling to take such drastic measures to affect hair growth. He wondered if Mal would be interested, though.
"Y'know, if you're that anxious to have a beard, my little brother found a way to grow himself a beard, and he's got the same smooth-faced inclinations I have, naturally."
He said no more, partly because there was no point in continuing if Mal was uninterested and partly because he'd had a rather cruel idea for a prank to play on Mal, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to go through with it or not. It wasn't exactly mature, after all, to play tricks on your best friend. In fact, there were those who would argue that his status as a Weyrling meant that any sort of jokes with Mal as the butt would be abusing his position. Mal probably wouldn't see it that way, but others might, and he would have to live with these people for a very long time.
"I'm sure there's a distinction somewhere in there, and I can almost grasp it, but for the moment it's eluding me." What it sounded like was Mal didn't mean to Impress a dragon at all. Sure, he might tease about just being there for the free food, but he didn't mean that, did he? "And I doubt the Masterharper would agree about Dragonscratching being a rewarding craft, particularly in comparison with Harpering."
Dara shifted on E'rik's lap and glanced over at Aeron, peering across Mal. He sounded almost sulky as he said, I should try to make him like me, shouldn't I?
You might, but I don't think anyone would think less of you for not succeeding. He was getting better at talking mentally to Daramulath without interrupting the flow of normal conversation so much, though he knew he still looked distant and distracted while doing so.
"Grumpy Greenrider? Who's that?" He didn't pay much attention to Mal's catalogue of non-dangerous activities. Most of them probably weren't so bad. The ex-Harper did seem to have a knack for survival, after all, and he was evidently still alive. E'rik really didn't have any reason to concern himself.
E'rik was also not paying much attention to Daramulath as he moved from his lap and walked slowly and indirectly toward Aeron and the trundlebugs. He stopped with a meter between them and sat back on his haunches.
You're very good at that, he said to the firelizard, unsure how much the creature understood.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 20, 2009 4:55 pm
Never before had Mal’s expression gone from thoughtful to suspicious so quickly. If traveling had taught him anything----and it had----it was that, whenever someone seemed to be offering you an apple, there would definitely be a worm inside. That and every ‘method’ he’d tried before ended up being a joke. “I think I’ve heard this one before. Let me guess… it involves citrus juice, the hair of a tunnelcat, and a very specific obscure dance, right?”
Alright, so he hadn’t fallen for that one. But it had been a close thing.
“Oh, the stinction is pretty… you know… distinct. I’m not a Dragonrider yet. And might not ever be one, you know? Have you looked at the list of Candidates recently? It’s huge! I managed to catch a glimpse of it the other day and it’s longer than my leg. It’s just odds, E’rik. Some hundred odd Candidates for just fifteen eggs? It’s not going to be me this time around.” And probably never would, a fact that he wasn’t too broken up over. Sure, he was jealous of E’rik’s bond with Dara and all, but… well, maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. “The point is, the only thing I can be absolutely sure of, right now, is that I’m a Candidate trying to become a Dragonrider. And a Dragonscratcher.”
Hey! E’rik’s eyes were going all unfocused. Mal watched in quiet amusement for some time, idly wondering if he could get away with drawing on his friend while he was all distracted. Or maybe he should be more concerned about this… you never could tell, right? It was a fair guess that he was just talking to Dara, but you never knew. “More like which Greenrider isn’t grumpy. I think that’s a better question. But you’d probably know more about that than me.”
At Dara’s approach, Aeron hunched over his prey protectively, as if worried that the larger dragon might try to steal his hard-won prizes. But, at the words, the firelizard simply looked a bit more confused. Out of all of Dara’s words, the only ones Aeron really understood were ‘you’ and ‘good’, which was enough to get him off balance a little. His wings unfurled a little and he hissed softly, just to make sure Dara wasn’t going to move any closer. Because, you know, it was only intimidation that kept the brown dragon in line.
Although he couldn’t communicate as neatly as the dragon, the firelizard still managed to get his point across through flashes of images of all of his prey: mostly small insects or tunnelsnakes and intense pride in his work. Why, yes! He was awesome. So kind of Dara to notice.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Apr 22, 2009 10:07 am
When Mal's suspicious nature reared its head, E'rik chuckled. Well, there went that idea. It was probably for the better. Mal didn't deserve to be put upon. He was a good person, all minor personality flaws and bad habits aside. To be honest, there weren't too many of them to be put aside.
"Actually, my remedy involved a razor, a shaving basin, and lots of patience. I also have no guarantee that it works, save that the lower half of my brother's face makes him look like he's part herdbeast. Shaggy as all get out. Of course, my little brother is an idiot, and it may be that there's an inverse relation between facial hair and intelligence." He liked his second thought better.
He's a good Dragonscratcher, Dara said encouragingly, eavesdropping on their conversation even as he forced himself to attempt to make peace with Aeron.
"Dara says you're a good Dragonscratcher. I think you'll make a great dragonrider, but you're probably right that it won't be at this Hatching. Most of the people I've spoken to who have been at the Weyr for a while speculate that the majority of this clutch is blue and green, and I can't really see you on anything less than a brown. Or maybe a snippy bronze, like Aeron all grown up." He affected a dramatic shudder at the thought of something with Aeron's temperment being any larger or - horrors - able to breathe or cough fire (or whatever it was dragons did to achieve the desired effect).
"You haven't answered my question, by the way. Which grumpy Greenrider did you mean? As you say, there seem to be so many. Particularly when their greens are proddy." Proddy. What a nice, civil way of putting it, while still making it sound like a minor irritation that people were making too much over. He liked some of the Weyr jargon prodigiously.
"To be fair, though, most of the Greenriders I know are fairly pleasant. Maybe because their dragons are too young to fly." He shrugged. Most were pleasant. Some he made cry. Well, one, really.
Dara, inundated with images of what he assumed were all beasts Aeron had killed in his hunts, wondered when fingers would put in an appearance. From what he'd observed of Mal's fingers, those seemed to be on the menu quite frequently. Still, he was attentive throughout Aeron's display and refrained from showing Aeron what his food looked like before it was slaughtered. He didn't kill his own meals yet, but what he ate still tended to be larger than Aeron.
Very impressive, he said approvingly as he strove to keep his amusement from his mental tone. For a firelizard, he supposed it was impressive. It was difficult, though, to communicate with someone who didn't think in words like his E'rik, and he was too tired to put forth too much effort.
It's going to be dark very soon, he pointed out to E'rik, just a little bit hopefully. Maybe they could eat and then go to sleep?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
