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 Posted: Tue Dec 21, 2010 9:19 pm
Speaking that way, F'sey could have recited the colors of the rainbow (out of order) and Jasaro would have still felt guilty from the pitch alone. He felt sickened with the situation. Probably with himself, too. Wasn't it just like him to take the most closed off, jerk of a greenrider on the island and break him down? Though... that was giving F'sey a lot of credit on this island.
A feeble chance at calming the atmosphere was all he had to give; a wave of his hand in a way that was anxiously dismissive was all he had to offer, he thought. When he found his voice amidst the sorrow, he knew there was more. He said, "It's alright."
It's alright.
His dragon was dead, he had shouted at the majority of people closest to him, but it was "alright". Not long ago he would have said all those near and dear had been wronged by him, but that was no longer the case. F'sey may not have been his friend, but he was something. He was a dragonrider of a natural, normal color -- Jasaro needed that more than a friend.
"What I mean is..." The words were there. Somewhere. "It's not so much sad that she's dead... as sad that I'm missing the need to mourn that she's dead."
And that couldn't be right.
It just couldn't be right.
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Posted: Wed Dec 22, 2010 6:49 am
Like shards it was alright. F'sey bit back the sharp remark, glowering. (At least that was familiar to the greenrider, if nothing else about this strange situation was.)
There was a long silence before Jasaro found his words, and after, while the greenrider was trying to digest what he'd just been told. While he understood, he couldn't really understand. After all, when he had his own time to mourn, he simply refused, pretending that the subject hadn't even existed. That, he knew, wasn't right. But this wasn't supposed to be a contest of who was less 'alright', so the older rider left that comment unsaid. He doubted it would reassure Jasaro, anyways.
"Well," he began, still scrambling to arrange his thoughts, "I told you. There's no right or wrong. If that's what upsets you, then that's what's upset you. There is no 'golden standard' that you should uphold yourself to." Maybe the Guardmaster or Whermaster expected as much, but they wouldn't understand. (F'sey was still suspicious about a wher's bond to his handler, sometimes.)
It's not your fault, he wanted to say. How could anyone know?
"You're the Whitemaster, but you are still Jasaro." F'sey shrugged. "Only you can say how it feels to lose your dragon. If you are upset you don't feel the need to mourn her, than be upset for it. Take that, and do something with it."
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Posted: Wed Dec 22, 2010 4:55 pm
It couldn't be right.
Jasaro shuffled his mobile hand into his hair and held on tight. Outside forces influenced him as outside forces centered him. It felt wrong to be a grown man and still need guidance, but Jasaro never really understood his problems were problems everyone had. They would manifest in ways -- in situations -- that were different. At the core they were identical, though; taking away all the "if only" and "why me?" showed them to be the same.
Losing a dragon was not a problem for everyone, but loss itself was. He'd heard time and again dragon and rider were different. If you had a parent or a sibling or a lover it was different from your dragon. But was it? Was it really? What was stopping them from being so... connected?
Somehow, he didn't notice he had looked F'sey straight in the eye even as he stared at him. He looked beyond him, not so much at him, trying to see something. Something... he wasn't sure what to call.
"There's someone I'm not sure I could leave behind just yet."
Why did they have to be so limited on whom they loved? Why did the dragon have to be the be-all-end-all of loyalty? What would Pern be like if they only dared treat each other as their dragons would treat them?
Jasaro blinked, finally, and he breathed. He'd been staring a while in some form of admiration and wonder, some of which was for F'sey and some of which wasn't. "Sorry. Did you say something?"
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Posted: Wed Dec 22, 2010 5:10 pm
...Jasaro...wasn't ignoring him, was he?
Frowning and tipping his head to one side, F'sey narrowed his eyes and watched the man in a baffled silence. He didn't think the Whitemaster had tuned him out; maybe he'd said something the man didn't want to hear. Well, that was unfortunate, but F'sey rarely edited his thoughts, even if it would keep him from trouble.
"It wasn't important. A mark for your thoughts?"
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Posted: Wed Dec 22, 2010 5:20 pm
"I'm quite alright. Not rich, but no one really is around here." Jasaro stretched his arm out above him, then bent it by the elbow, tucking his hand under his head. He reclined all his weight back and closed his eyes. Relaxed was too gallant a thing to call him but he no longer looked as though he were laying on his death bed.
His nose crinkled just a little and his brows drew closer together. "I heard you met the blackrider," he said casually, though the subject was anything but. Anything and he did mean anything that involved that girl was never easy. "That's unfortunate."
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Posted: Wed Dec 22, 2010 6:55 pm
...what?
F'sey stared blankly at Jasaro for a moment, trying to comprehend the random change in topic. Last he checked, the younger man was not alright in the least, and what was that about being rich? Oh, Faranth, there was something wrong with this one, wasn't there?
At least he could answer to the last of the comments. "Yes, I did. Roka and B'lin were equally as lucky," the greenrider muttered, rolling his eyes at the memory. It had not been a pleasant experience. "I wasn't aware the islands hung on to mad riders. In fact, I wasn't aware dragons Impressed to the mad. She kept making bizarre comments; accused Roka of being sad, and she tried to tell me B'lin wasn't gone even if I thought he was. And he was standing right there, it was very bizarre." A pause.
"I don't like her.
At least he was honest.
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Posted: Wed Dec 22, 2010 7:07 pm
J'aro clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. The noise he made was some amused hum -- amused in a kind of skittish way. "The blackriders aren't mad when they Impress. They become mad because they Impress. Why do you think there is so much tension on the side of those that wish away the colors not native other places?"
His headache was already painful enough without having to try and figure out what Amai was talking about, but. "That girl sees parts of people they hide away from everyone else. All blackriders have, so I'm told."
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Posted: Wed Dec 22, 2010 8:37 pm
Suddenly, the politics of the island became a whole lot clearer. While whites certainly weren't nice, they were clearly under control, to a degree, and appeared to have their use. But if the blacks just made their riders go insane...? If this was known, why would anyone even want to Impress to one? (This was assuming, of course, they were Impressed like whites, but F'sey was going to assume as much.)
"How do you know she isn't making up a bunch of stories? Maybe she's just so vague, people assume she's right. She told me 'he's, still here' and 'not to worry, because he was still here'. Obviously, B'lin was standing right there. That wasn't hidden at all."
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Posted: Wed Dec 22, 2010 8:51 pm
Jasaro ran his tongue around his slightly yellow teeth before he answered. Oh, the number of nervous twitches he'd never outgrown was outrageous. Among them hesitating in his speech; staggering. "I'm..." He lost his voice for a moment. "Just trust me on this, and if you want to keep your secrets, avoid her like the plague."
Funny. A plague joke. (Ghenza would be ashamed.)
A ball thrown hard in an empty, square room couldn't have bounced around more than Jasaro's subject manner. "Your boy is out there flying his bronze, Roka tells me."
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Posted: Wed Dec 22, 2010 8:55 pm
"Shards. Jasaro, stop that. I can't keep up with you when you do that."
Well, he could, but it was wearing F'sey out, and he was getting tired of it. As grouchy and bored as the man was, he still wasn't a hundred percent, and still had something for the pain in his leg. (It would be cruel not to, he reasoned.)
"Pick a topic. And, more importantly, he is not 'my' boy. He is not anyone's boy. His name is B'lin, and he is his own person." The Wingleader huff. Oh. Wait a minute. "I told you'd he'd fly again. I suppose he will need his title back, now, though."
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Posted: Wed Dec 22, 2010 9:03 pm
Pick a topic, huh?
Jasaro sucked his bottom lip in to avoid the grin. He didn't "feel better" -- if he ever did, it would take more time than this. Dragonriders were not anymore immune to denial than to grief. Anything to take his mind off this mess. For the chance to feel careless, just for a moment, he'd goad the Wingleader or not Wingleader or whatever he may be.
"Fine," he huffed, opening a single eye. It made him look arrogant, over-the-top, but he meant it to. He'd always believed if you were going to put on an act, you may as well exaggerate. "One topic... You're probably right. Since your boy is flying again I think it's only right to give your boy his title back."
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Posted: Sun Dec 26, 2010 7:29 am
If there was ever anyone who made F'sey wish dragonriders were allowed to brawl, he'd claim there was no one who made him wish to harm someone more than Jasaro did. (Which was a lie, there were plenty of people back at Ista who brushed him the wrong way. He just didn't have to think about them when he wasn't back on that lovely, wonderful tropical island. Why did he ever leave Ista?)
Xanthoth's.
...right. Back to that topic. (Naturally the Whitemaster would settle on the bronzerider, of all the topics he could pick.
"Don't be a p***k, Jasaro, he is his own man. He is not 'my' boy, I have no more claim over him than y-." No. Better not to make that comparison. The younger redhead would find a way to make him regret that, he was certain. "Regardless, he is an adult, and he is his own person. I will give him his title back when I am allowed to see him next. I told you it would be fine, and you insisted on making a big fuss over it. Now, you kept me in that jail cell for nothing."
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