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Usernames: Revel1984 and Thaliawen

Player: Thaliawen
Blue Rider Name: A'temi (Formerly Artemi)
Age: Twenty nine
Appearance: With his drawn in, slight build, A'temi doesn't find himself much to look at. He has shaggy brown hair that just covers his ears, and either has the natural trait to be messy--or the man simply does not care enough. He is tan and freckled from spending so much time outdoors. His eyes are a wet looking brown.

A'temi doesn't seem to care much what he wears! As long as people don't bother him, he is perfectly fine whatever he looks like.

A'temi has scars running on his hands. He claims these are from when he was first starting to make guitars and pipes, if ever asked. He has a long, thin scar running from his elbow to close to his wrist. He doesn't like talking about how he got that one. He was mauled as a candidate upon Impression to Relith.

Further scars are from captivity; his face is often bruised. He has scars on his arms, legs and stomach from a barbed whip. His back has stripes.

Gender: Male
Personality: A'temi is that still stubborn patch of ice that remains long after winter's end. The ice that makes one wonder if the constant reminder of winter's bitter chill will ever leave. Though relatively young, A’temi is a reminder of the past. At twenty nine turns old, this man seems to stubbornly resist change. If encouraged, A'temi will reluctantly assist in bringing about changes, but don't expect him to like it! He would much rather things stay as they always have been. He resists even the smallest changes in routine. Expect a fuss if there's a sudden change in what food is available. Nothing upsets A'temi more than a change in plans.

Unfortunately for A'temi being in his current situation means constant change. Not that he's adjusted to it. No, even being thrust into something he has little control over; this man refuses to allow his plans--his goals--to be altered.

This dislike of change means A'temi isn't very flexible. A'temi likes to keep to his plan, never veering once from it. If you want someone to plan constant, daily events, A'temi's your man! If you were looking for someone who will happily follow what everyone else is doing at any given time, however--well, that's another story.

A'temi considers few people his friends. He considers fewer people to be his enemies. He deals with people only because he has to. He is slow to say how he feels on any given matter; preferring to express his opinions through actions rather than words. When encouraged to speak, however, one may wish they had allowed him to remain silent. A'temi can be terribly blunt. He can and will speak with the tongue of a skilled (albeit rather rude) trader.

It's difficult to receive a (verbal) emotional response from A'temi. He avoids most interaction (if at all possible) with others. He tends to become awkward in emotional scenarios. When around those expressing strong negative emotion, he is never sure whether to comfort, or to make fun. Perhaps this is a good thing. In certain company, either could get him killed. He is not quite desensitized. He expresses his emotions through music and actions. One can typically make an accurate observation from his body language concerning how he is feeling at any given time. This holdbred harper finds that there is a lot to be said--in what isn't said.

A'temi is easily pleased! As long as things go the way he likes them to (which is more difficult), that is. He doesn't like being flattered, being insecure with his own abilities. He enjoys observing others rather than interacting with them. He finds he can learn quite a bit about people without saying a word to them--and vice versa. A'temi finds great pleasure in observing others. If allowed to do so, he would write concerning his observations. If asked, maybe he'll share a few with someone. He shares with his few friends. He shares with Relith.

A'temi rarely smiles. His smiles are saved for friends (and he has few) and his dragon, Relith.

A'temi is a hard worker! When he wants to be. While his stubborn behavior may cause his work ethic to shrink at times, if given a task he enjoys, he will do it, and do it well. He is rather focused and hates interruptions, preferring to finish a task before starting another one. Never ask this man to do more than one thing at once. He becomes frustrated easily.

History: A'temi was born Artemi, of Malvren hold. He was the son of a bluerider and a reluctant holder mother after his father's blue lost a particularly involved greenflight. He was quickly fostered off to a harper residing in Malvren at the time; and from her, learned his knowledge of the craft. Artemi was a quiet boy, eager to do well in his craft (but not receive praise, surely none of his work was worthy of that.) He learned all he could from her; how to recite, to make and play pipes. He learned to observe people.

And became quite good at it. That was what he had been doing at the age of fifteen turns, when he'd been Searched from Malvren Hold. He never did like to call it "spying"; keeping tabs on people was something he'd always done. The greenrider had been friendly; or had attempted to be, for to share a conversation, one must have someone responding and receiving messages. Artemi didn't care one mark what the dragonrider had to say. He'd been watching. The rider was interrupting his observations!

The greenrider was patient with the quiet boy. He explained that Artemi could become a dragonrider, he could come to Malvren Weyr. He told the young harper--whom at the time was attempting to leave, fully intending on returning to his master--that his dragon seemed to like him. Wouldn't Artemi come? The rider's persistence convinced him.

That was the day Artemi decided he would never quite like flying. He changed his mind not long after; but his first time a dragonback frightened him. When they landed (much to the boy's relief) the greenrider took it upon himself to introduce Artemi to other candidates.

He decided he didn't quite like other candidates; and that never did change.

But never mind how the apprentice became a candidate; what Artemi likes to focus on is how the candidate became a dragonrider. He didn't Impress his first hatching, much to his disappointment. Well, he didn't quite expect to. He'd hoped to. He'd been picked on by other candidates. He was quiet, and didn't like to be involved with what others were doing. His behavior caused him to stand out. He was an outsider.

And so--he had figured the dragons at that hatching thought so, too. He was different. He stood again, a turn later. At the age of sixteen, he Impressed. Malvren had had a large clutch then. Surely he would Impress! He did. But not to the dragon he'd hoped for--oh, he knew color shouldn't have meant anything to him--but wouldn't it have been nice if he could Impress a brown? Or maybe a bronze! The others would see then!

You would not like them, Mine. They are loud and do not see your worth. Stay with your Relith! We will show them together. We will be the best.

He'd Impressed a blue. Relith, wonderful Relith! ...Annoying, bossy, pessimistic Relith. After their initial meeting, Relith seemed to take great pleasure in complaining to his rider. Oh, the other dragons weren't quite right in their formations. They could not fly as well as Relith. He was much faster than they were. Could they not see their greatness? Could A'temi not see how great they were?

Turns passed. A'temi was twenty five, and had fallen in love with a rather attractive greenrider. She was beautiful, she was perfect--she was his reason to voice his thoughts. They Weyrmated; and for a while, A'temi's otherwise comparatively bland life was beautiful. His beloved lit up his life; just as Relith did. She helped him open his lips, and mind.

That ended close to nine months after a particularly long flight from Halle's green Leith. Halle had chosen to carry their baby to term, despite constant resistance from A‘temi. They weren't ready. They couldn't take care of it. It'd have to be raised in the creche. Halle was a small woman. The birthing took a terrible toll on her body. She died along with the baby.

A’temi blamed the healers. He believed with his whole heart that if they had done more, they would have been able to save her. He returned to his quiet, lonely ways, vowing he would never care for--anyone. He'd lost his Weyrmate; and the unwanted babe. He never truly recovered from the loss of his Weyrmate. Nor did he ever truly forgive himself for being the reason Halle had died.

Not a turn later, he was sent to find a cure for infertility. (Mystweed). Thread fell; the young man had watched in horror as the ancient enemy consumed fellow riders. His attention on companions rather than evading Thread himself was what caused him his trouble. Though at Malvren he had been known for noticing much; in the air--with Thread, he failed to dodge. The pain was indescribable; with the knowledge as Relith took them between that the pain his dragon was experiencing was his fault. He hadn’t been watching. He’d caused this!

Relith had taken them somewhere he considered safe. With his rider’s cries of pain and lack of any coherent thought, the blue had been on his own. That was what had gotten them captured. A young woman had found them. Had cared for them. As soon as they were strong enough, she took them away to the mountains. She shackled A’temi; controlling Relith with pain caused to his rider. He would do what she said. Or his rider would die.

Blue Dragon Name: Relith
Age: 13
Appearance: Colorist's choice
Gender: Male
Personality: Relith is pessimistic. He's a malcontent. It is difficult to get him to show outward signs of approval, though inwardly he may admit to himself the value of something. From the moment he hatched no one, nor anything, was safe from his snippiness and cutting wit; for despite his complaints, Relith is an excellent speaker; if only his rider would repeat what he said, exactly!

It's not uncommon for him to leave a conversation with his rider staring open mouthed after him - never argue with Relith, because he can twist his words and the meaning of words around cleverly. On top of his attitude, Relith, like his rider, is stubborn. When he makes his mind up about something, he sticks to it; that is, until he forgets. He may not be very good at making friends. For one thing, his first impression is almost always set for life - if he decides he doesn't like you--he's not going to like you. He's not exactly malicious, despite the fact that he's unpleasant. Rather he is most always condescendingly amused and cynical: a patronizing critic observing the antics of lesser dragons (and their riders).

If as a Weyrling Relith was stubborn, as an adult he has mellowed down to a quiet slyness that seems to permeate the air around him. Only in the most tender moments with his rider does this aura leave him and show the love that he is capable of feeling. To all others, meaning everyone but his rider, Relith presents an abrasive, somewhat obnoxious, face. He's refined his gift of cutting wit to the point where he can create a truly mesmerizing effect with his voice if he chooses.

Wherever he goes, Relith loves to stir up a bit of conflict - for entertainment purposes. He enjoys setting the stage for an argument, but not being involved himself. He'll sit on the side, adding an instigating comment now and then to keep things flowing. He regrets little.

Relith is unlikely to be a very popular dragon. He loves his rider; but does not seem to care much for anyone else. He may grow to tolerate others (especially greens). The flights he joins will be purely for the thrill of a chase and capture. Ah, the game of lust! This blue loves to put on a show. He does not seem to plan to keep those greens he flies, however. He may resort to driving them off. He wants space! They should be grateful he flew them at all!

Relith is different when he's around A'temi. The lack of patience and compassion he shows towards other dragons is made up for in his love for his rider. He complains to him frequently, making snarky little comments about the happenings of the Weyr, in general or specific things that annoy him. Relith, despite the tendency to tease A'temi, would do anything for his rider.

Player: Revel1984
HAD Woman Name: Myra
Age: Twenty eight
Gender: Female
Appearance: Myra is a rather thickly built woman She conceals her build under dresses though, as much as she loves getting her hands dirty with the boys, she's very feminine. She's not a beautiful woman but she's fairly pretty. She's slightly taller than average which helps with her build as if she were shorter she could be considered fat. Her hair is a mousey brown with slight natural lighter highlights. Her eyes are a dark brown, so dark that they almost appear black. She almost always dresses very feminine, wearing things that suit her average skin tone. The only time she doesn't wear her dresses are when it's not practical to when she's working.
Personality: Myra has never been the most pleasant of people. Growing up, if anyone got into trouble for cruel things, Myra was often right in the thick of it. As she grew she learned to hide her nasty side. Hitting puberty was hard for her as it was when she began hearing dragons, the crippling headaches making her downright snappy most of the time. In all her time growing up because of her cruel streak no one really befriended her. She's a rather lonely woman, she says she doesn't mind but deep down, she would like someone there for her though she would never admit it, she'd rather stay alone than trust anyone that far.

She doesn't deal well with emotion, preferring to resort to violence or snappy behavior rather than get emotional. When others are emotional around her Myra just clams up, not knowing what to say (nor wanting to say anything). When it comes to kids Myra has a slight soft spot for them, keeping an eye on them when they're around so that they don't get into trouble but if anyone was to point it out to her she'd just come back with attitude and walk off so that she wouldn't hit the person. She'll never admit to having a soft spot for anything.

Myra enjoys causing pain. Making people flinch, making them wince at her very presence. It's a powerful feeling; being able to frighten someone into submission. Having someone know that if they do not obey, pain will be delivered. Still, despite her love for pain and apparent suffering, Myra feels that killing is going too far. She prefers to keep her victims alive.

Myra's found that it is easier to keep to herself. She doesn't want to show signs of weakness, and so hides her crippling headaches. It's easier to act than attempt to be social to make people like her. She feels no real need to be social.

Myra doesn't actually have a Wher, she just helped Keller train them, helped others raise them. She didn't want another creature in her head, Dragons were enough. She has no interest in keeping Flits as pets either, unless perhaps a Gold that she can breed and sell the eggs from. Otherwise she deems them pretty much useless things and is not bothered at all in pets.


History: Myra was born in the Weyr, a common occurrence between a pairing caused by a Green or Gold Flight, her mother wasn't a rider but it appeared her father was. Her mother admired the riders and wasn't really bothered at finding she was pregnant. Myra grew up in the creche with other younglings, not really having a 'mother' or 'father' to speak of, except ALL of her carers. Her mother's milk had dried up early so hadn't even been able to bond even slightly with her daughter through feeding her in her early months. This didn't particularly bother Myra as from an early age it was clear she liked to be alone. Keeping away from the others in the creche as much as possible, not very affectionate when picked up for cuddles. She never really liked being cuddled or anything either, preferring just to stay away.

As she got older it was clear that Myra wasn't a sweet little girl, despite punishments and reprimands. Quite often she would be caught taunting the 'pets' of the Weyr, often Firelizards, drawn in by food, would get tied up, unable to even Between due to the rope tying them in place. More often than not they were hidden away, only their cries in the darkened places alerting others to them. Myra has never tried to actually ... kill anything though, she just enjoyed being mean to it. As she aged she learned to hide her inner workings better, mainly keeping them to herself, pretending she was normal.

She hit puberty late, after Standing a couple of times and being passed over by dragons, this never really bothered her, she only Stood because it was 'the done thing' rather than any real want to have a dragon. In fact most of the time she was just plainly bored, unless a hatchling mauled someone, that's when Dragons got interesting. Oh she knew that hatchlings were the only point a dragon could harm someone but the thought of PERHAPS having something like that under her control was tempting. When she did hit puberty though it hit her hard, her stocky body gaining curves in the right places gaining her attention that she didn't want. As well as those, she began hearing voices and getting blinding, crippling headaches that often caused her to pass out. The taunts she got from the other young people of the Weyr, plus the fact she was reclusive anyway, only served to alienate her from her fellows and she no longer felt the want to live at the Weyr. One night, after secretly packing her things (or rather, those things she wanted to take), she left the Weyr and began living among the Holdless. It was there she learned that the voices she heard were actually dragons and she spent a long time with the Holdless learning (secretly as she never revealed hearing the voices to anyone) to close out their thoughts to the point she could function normally again, even when there were dragons present.

She still kept to herself, even among the Holdless but someone figured out her secret, cornering her one night. She'd ended up fighting with him and killing him by accident, forcing her to flee as he'd been well liked among the people she'd been traveling with, she was sickened that she'd actually killed but the fight, where she'd hurt him before killing, had her blood pumping. It was not long after that, she ran into Masterhandler Keller and his Wher. She knew what Whers could do and had begged Keller to take her in and train her. It wasn't until she suffered a terrible headache when a Gold Flight, with her entourage of Bronzes passed over the place they were staying, that Keller guessed her secret, the incident leaving her sweating and verging on the point of blacking out. She was incredibly grateful to Keller, who apparently had showed her nothing but sympathy for her 'terrible curse'.

Some time later, after Keller revealed his plan (after realizing just how loyal the young woman was to him for helping her, for showing her that hearing dragons was a curse, for enforcing her distrust of dragons in general) that the miracle occurred. A badly injured Bluerider and his dragon had practically landed in their laps. Myra called it a Sign that the plan was right, that their way was RIGHT and Pern was providing them with the answer. At first she had tended to the pair, pretending she was a simple Holdless woman trying to do her part. Getting them both on-side until they were well enough to be moved to her 'home'. Once there she ordered the rider to be placed in a cell, the whip she carried at her belt coming into use when the Blue had tried to get to his Rider, first against the Blue to force him to back away, then on the exposed back of the rider, showing both of them exactly what she was capable of if they disobeyed her. They must have consulted each other because both man and dragon calmed enough to be led to their 'prisons'. Torture was fun to her, forcing the Rider and his Dragon to comply, to help in their plans. She'd laughed when the Blue brought news that Benden's Weyrwoman was dead. She was less amused at the apparent failures of the next attacks, One attack only killing the Weyrleader, the last, failed attack leaving Flynn dead. She'd cursed that, had raged and took her anger out on both rider and Dragon but it was like whipping an already beaten dog, and gave her no satisfaction. In fact it had made her stomach churn afterwards when she'd come to her senses and saw what she'd done to the two. Dragon scarred with lash marks, the rider had been in worse shape. She'd left them alone for a few days after that, giving them some semblance of peace from their regular torture.

Now she's just keeping the pair captive, under instruction. She hears the input from the Weyrs and was pleased that Benden was taken rather quickly, but is less pleased about the loss of life at the other Weyrs, both Wher, dragon and human alike. She liked causing pain but the killing was just a step too far for her and it rankles her but all she knows is that they must overthrow the leaders, the Weyrs to gain all what she and Keller... and others... had worked for.

Myra doesn't actually have a Wher, she just helped Keller train them, helped others raise them. She didn't want another creature in her head, Dragons were enough. She has no interest in keeping Flits as pets either, unless perhaps a Gold that she can breed and sell the eggs from. Otherwise she deems them pretty much useless things and is not bothered at all in pets.

Prompt response:

Myra stared into the darkened cell guarded by Whers. She smiled somewhat nastily at the captive within. "So Dragonrider, enjoying your new accommodations?" she sneered, gesturing to his shackles and cold, bare cell. The man inside was laid out on a bare floor, fresh bruises showing up on his face. Myra was a big woman and strong for having grown up handling Whers under the Masterhandler, Keller. She wasn't a beautiful woman by any means but she did have a pretty face, her muscles hidden under her dress. The first mission had been a success and Benden's Weyrwoman was dead, throwing the Weyr into turmoil. She chuckled as she remembered the plan, smuggling the Assassin in had been the easy part, the hard part had been co-coordinating with Wherhandlers that were loyal to the cause, allowing him movement around the Weyr to find the Weyrwoman alone.

She glared at the rider inside "The fall of your precious rider system is well on the way to completion, Rider, and YOUR Dragon at the heart of it... Does it gall you? That your creature can be controlled? That your oh-so-precious bond can be corrupted?" She laughed and waited for his answer, not really interested, but she liked to taunt the rider. “YOU can stay where you are now you've returned Dragon," she sent to the blue outside... Oh yes, she could hear all dragons and she hated it.

She stared at the bruised face, bruises caused by her own hands, and smiled in satisfaction, feeling the presence of the Blue, hating every moment of contact with the creature but knowing it was important she controlled it.

A'temi did not respond. It was perhaps a foolish decision, but what else could the woman do to him? She had separated him from Relith. Caged him in a cold, dimly lit cell; shackled him so even if he had had the energy to attempt to escape, he would not have been able to. He had been laid out on the cold floor, shivering. The small movement did nothing to warm the chill that seemed to be in his very bones. He looked up at Myra, stubbornly. Though his strength was all but spent, the man showed a certain determination. She would not win.

She might have the ability to command his beloved Relith to do everything she wished--terrible things. Her taunting only deepened his regret. How could this have happened? His bond with Relith had somehow slipped. He had asked Relith not to obey. He'd told him to go back to the Weyr. Get help. How such a woman could have gotten his blue to obey her... He knew Relith listened only for desire "You may have control over all dragons," he glared up at her. He would have shaken his head if he had the strength. "But not over their riders. You can torture as you will. Our bonds cannot be broken."

He had been a hold bred boy. Taking what he could to survive, learning to steal at an early age. He had always been good at sneaking around. His small form ensured that.

I have done what you asked. Let my rider go. Relith's voice was broken. The once proud blue was resigned to his fate. His rider was being hurt! He had to protect him! He would. If that meant ignoring the wishes of his rider--he would.

Myra laughed at his attempts to be 'brave' "Oh really? .. of course the riders can be controlled, what if I forced your precious Blue to stay grounded and let my Master's whers tear strips out of his hide?" she said, she would do it too, if it helped their cause. She had no compunction about harming a Dragon, or a rider. If a few Whers were lost to the cause, so be it, she would mourn in private but for the greater good, anything was worth it, even contact with the hated Dragons.

She opened the door to the cell, eyes glittering as she moved closer, the whip she held tightly now slack. She cracked it, loud enough for the dragon outside to hear, right by the rider's face. If she caught his cheek with the bladed tip, that she'd put on it especially for her 'sessions' with the Rider, then so be it. It would knock some of that arrogance out of him.

“You be quiet, you do NOT tell me what to do!" she snarled at the blue, both mentally and verbally so that the rider knew she was talking to his Dragon. "Now... if you both prefer to be uncooperative, I’m sure we can change that. Maybe I’ll just go outside with this whip instead of using it on you" she said to the bluerider, her tone mocking. "THIS is why Riders are weak," she added with a snort. A bond with a Wher was strong yes, but it could be remade. "Useless creatures that would rather kill themselves than find another rider... Just... Stupid really, you pick your leaders based on who's shiny dragon catches another shiny dragon." She shook her head, "You riders need to know your place... and you will." she said, cracking the whip once more, aiming for the man's body, not really caring where it hit.

A'temi attempted to keep his expression composed as she threatened Relith, but couldn't quite manage it. The determined light in his eyes seemed to fade, and his bruised face fell slack. He couldn't challenge the woman. Declare that she would not dare to injure a dragon--he knew better. He had been in her presence long enough to know that this woman would not stop at anything to get what she wanted. He made no response, only stared at her in horror. How could any human have been broken like this? That she would break ancient laws--that she would do this?

He flinched when she opened the door of the cell. In a trained response, it seemed, the man began to sweat. He knew what was coming. Sweating did nothing to ease his chills. He braced himself when he spotted the whip in her hands, flinching as he heard the crack. As he felt the vibrations it created, running through his spine. He had expected it to hit. It missed his cheek only narrowly.

I will do as you ask. Do not hurt my rider, Relith's response was soft. If his rider was safe--it was worth it. He could not disobey this woman. It was not like obeying a gold--for a gold would not have threatened her Weyr's riders.

"Don't!" A'temi protested weakly, when she suggested using the whip on his blue. Didn't this woman have any compassion? Didn't she know what it was like to have something you could relate to? Something to love? Relith was quite literally, A'temi's life. Their bond had formed the day A'temi had Impressed--and it would end the day they died. "Please don't. He hasn't done anything! He's done anything you've asked him to!"

Was that what she had against riders? She felt they were weak? A'temi had always believed the bond between dragon and man made one stronger. "They're born knowing who they want," he said. "The dragon chooses. It's the way it's always been." He couldn't change the system. He didn't want to. A sharp pain in his stomach told him her whip had struck home the second time. He bit his lip to prevent the scream from escaping his lips. He could feel the warm liquid trickling on his skin; though shackled as he was, he wasn't able to do anything about it.

Myra laughed as he begged her not to hurt his Dragon. "Tell me again that we can't control you riders!" she mocked. Looking him up and down, "Fundamentally flawed Rider... that a Dragon cannot function without a rider... well I've disproved that" she said, not adding her thoughts that it was only through keeping the rider locked away, alive but under threat of hurt.

She saw him bite his lip and frowned, oh no... That would not do. She cracked the whip again and again and again, aiming for vulnerable parts of his body. She was enjoying this, oh she would make him cry out, let his Dragon hear him. Show that blue that he wasn't in a position to make demands, or requests. As long as she had the rider under her thumb, the dragon would do as he was told.

They needed the blue still, and she would continue this for as long as Master Keller told her that she needed to. Some small part of her not liking the fact they needed a Dragon, wanting to just toss him aside, though if she had her way, she'd take out the problem at the source. "Then it's high time for change then isn't it... Rider." she sneered at him. She had never loved anything, except perhaps Master Keller, but she had never really been shown love, so it was a pretty twisted version of it, if love it was, perhaps more of a loyalty, a gratitude to him. She lashed the whip again, this time aiming for his face. Oh they'd get the healers in if she went too far, they needed the man alive.

A'temi was silent, still biting at his lip. He knew if he opened his mouth to respond to the woman, he would cry out in pain. No, his pride had too strong of a hold on him. He would not allow this. He would not let her win. He looked away from her when she mocked him. She was right. She could control riders. The pain caused by the mere idea of his beloved blue being tortured by this woman... He knew he would never have been able to forgive himself, if he allowed that to happen. He wasn't sure he would be able to last through it.

He was unable to withhold the scream as she cracked the whip down on him again. His breath ragged, he forced himself to stare up at her. Would someone come save him? Would someone realize he wasn't the assassin? Had Relith been recognized? Would they think he had murdered the Weyrwoman? His skin was starting to burn with the pain. It felt as if tiny prickles were adding to the whip's strikes. He didn't agree with her--he was too far gone in pain to make sense of what the woman was saying.

"What..." he rasped, having attempted to avoid the whip aimed at his face. It had marked his cheek. "What do you want from me?"

Myra cracked the whip again and again until he cried out, stopping as if it was his reward for doing what she'd wanted. She grinned as he attempted to speak. "What do I want? ...Oooh rider, there is only one thing I want..." she tossed the whip out of the cell and bent close to him, grabbing him by his bleeding face. "I want the downfall of the Weyrs... I want the whole of Pern to realize just how useless Riders really are, the constant taking of resources... just to maintain their lofty positions... Well, times will come... Where the color of a creature's hide means nothing... "

She shoved his face aside, pushing him away at the same time. "Perhaps... if you weren't so useful to me here... if you survive the aftermath when it all comes to fruition... Perhaps even one such as you could be Weyrleader..." She burst out laughing at the idea, turning her back on the man. "Oh look... your dinner is here" she said, eyeing the tray a drudge brought, she grabbed it, taking the bread roll "Hmph... i don't see why they insist on feeding you up…" she said, eyeing the contents with disgust, it was a decent enough meal, if he wasn't going to do much. Bread, a little meat, gristly meat though, the worst cuts. Some... fiddly extras... Myra turned to him and bit into the roll, she was tempted to toss the tray on the floor, force the man to eat off the filthy ground but no, she couldn't have him getting too sick... Shards... She realized she'd probably used the barbed whip too much. "Eat," she said, putting the rest of the roll on the tray and hading it to him "Eat and behave, or I'll tell our healer not to bother seeing to you," she added, eyeing him harshly, her face disgusted.

Shackled as he was, in pain as he was, A'temi hardly had the strength to do as he was told. He was disgusted by the sight of the food--some bread. Meat that had been too close to the bone. Meat not even suitable for one's firelizard, let alone a grown man. Still, he slowly pushed himself up off of the floor. He shuddered visibly at the pain the movement brought him. Shards! Just the thought of eating with his blood making its way down his body--it made him sick!

He took the tray hesitantly, convinced this was some sort of trick. He had expected her to eat the roll; leaving him nothing but the meat he knew he would be forced to eat. He thanked her quietly, and began to eat. He focused on his food, chewing slowly. He would have to make this last. He couldn't be sure when the next meal would be. Not with these unreliable people. They were likely to let him starve, he thought.

Myra held still as the rider took the tray, it would do her no good to weaken the rider further than she had. She was a little annoyed that she'd lost control of herself and over-used the whip.
"I'll get the healer... Just sharding eat!" she snapped.

Annoyed by his nervousness, "So much for a proud Dragonrider... Snivelling wherry!" she snarled. She knew what he didn't... Although it wasn't an ideal meal, he, and his dragon, were to be fed decently enough to keep them alive. "Your dragon is next," she said, her voice just slightly gentler, or rather, less snappy. "We won't hurt him as long as he does as he's told." she added, sort of hoping that they would both argue, she kind of wanted to hurt the dragon.

A'temi ate slowly, ignoring the woman's words. The healer would care for him--but what point was there? After what felt like turns of this-- turns of her controlling his blue, turns of surviving the pain he was dealt daily--what was the point? Why wouldn't they let him go? Why couldn't they let him die?

Why did they have to care for his wounds when he would be dealt more in less than a sevenday? It was a waste of supplies. He nodded vaguely in her direction, swallowing.

"Thank you," he mumbled, taking another bite and chewing just as carefully. For letting him live another day. For providing him with food. For not hurting Relith. He hesitated for a long moment. Relith. It felt like it'd been turns since he had been able to properly see him... Perhaps... Perhaps she would let him?

"...Can--" did he dare ask? What would she do to him if he finished the sentence? What could be worse than what she had already done? "Can I see him?"

Myra watched him eat, to make sure he actually did, eyeing his injuries. She let him suffer, let him bleed for a while; before summoning the healer. She turned away and locked him up, waiting for the healer to arrive. She was actually surprised when the man thanked her... Really?... He THANKED her? ...Who had just dealt him those wounds, that had hurt his Dragon once or twice when neither wanted to cooperate? ... If it hadn't been so dreadfully sad and pathetic, Myra might have laughed at him.

She frowned at his question and instead of answering him, she turned her back, perhaps the cruelest thing she could do, and went to exit the cell area. She stopped by the whip, eyeing it then looked backwards at the Rider, picking the whip up she smiled a very nasty smile but didn't say a thing, just turned towards the exit.

"No, don't!" A'temi begged her, instantly regretting his question. He shouldn't have dared... Now Relith would pay for his desire to see his dragon. "Don't hurt him!" He wouldn't ask again. Relith didn't deserve that. Pain like that--no one deserved it.

Even as she turned towards the exit, the bluerider was still begging her to put the whip down. To hurt him instead. Relith didn't deserve it. He'd done nothing wrong. "Don't hurt him, please!"

Myra turned her head. "No, don't!" she mocked, repeating his words, twisting them to sound pathetic. "And why shouldn't I?" she said, turning round again. She could hear the pain behind his words, not physical pain, that she liked to draw out of the rider but the emotional pain, some small part of her tugged, no one thought that highly of HER.

Even Master Keller only found her useful because she could hear Dragons, as much as she was loyal to the man, she knew that. She fought to keep even the smallest trace of pity from her face. She hooked the whip to her belt securely, "I'm not about to leave it lying around for anyone to use." She snapped, turning her back once again and moving off, wanting to get far away from the man and his shaffing emotional plea.

A'temi stared at her, wide eyed. Why shouldn't she hurt them? She'd found them. Cared for them--tricked them. "You can't," he pleaded. He wasn't entirely convinced that she wasn't taking the whip to injure his dragon, despite her words. "He hasn't done anything!"

He watched her leave. He sent a mental reassurance to his blue--everything would be alright. Someone would find them. Someday. They would no longer have to suffer. The Weyrs would put them in a place of honor for what they had gone through--they would be taken care of. Everything would be fine. Perhaps his reassurance would have been more convincing if the man had believed them himself.

He'd lost faith sevendays ago.