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 Posted: Wed Dec 08, 2010 4:42 pm
Throughout the night the island's one and only (he hoped forever only) Whitemaster had slept very little. His imagination regaled him with visions of a certain angry little bird being caged. J'aro was a nice guy. Confidentially. That bleeding heart had to be bandaged less it stain the hands of the impressionable children daring to pursue his lifestyle, but it bled just the same.
He was a carrier of the sometimes helpful but more often hindering humane gene. On the islands, you needed to specify that. He'd disabled many men and killed none. One had tried to kill him. One never left his memory. They were one in the same.
After that Rulie girl had died, J'aro had been attacked. Those purpleriders and redriders, with their harmless dragons? Ambushed, some of them. They had been enraged things had gotten to the point just trying to Impress a monster (blacks were monsters; no other word suited them) was enough to warrant death. The dragon was gone and they had to blame someone.
J'aro had always been capable of anger, but he'd never thought about to the point his mind ached until then. He hadn't crossed that line again until now. A feeler, not a thinker, that's what he was. Or so he told himself. Likely it was just the things he didn't want to think about...
He'd been so angry at that man, and he was angry at F'sey. Personally angry, like an old friend had turned on him again. Logic sorted it into a pile of ridiculous deliberations; that greenrider had known him less than two sunrises worth of sevendays. Why feel so betrayed someone distant as a stranger had done this? Strangers lunged at him all the time.
Being angry he'd hit him was the easy part. Getting over it so quickly...
"Wait out here," J'aro instructed sternly.
Getting over it so quickly made this harder. He didn't even want to bother anymore, but he had to. If word got out their Whitemaster let some outsider make a fool of him without reparation...
Things like that just didn't happen here.
He frowned at the figure on the bed. "Alright. Go ahead."
The two wherhandlers -- big, brawny men they were -- each grabbed an arm and hauled F'sey from his sleeping place. No warning. No words. Just pulling and pushing and glaring.
For J'aro, speaking. "Good morning, F'sey."
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Posted: Wed Dec 08, 2010 5:21 pm
After several fights, F'sey had finally gone to bed. With B'lin, J'aro, B'lin again. He'd even argued with Ialluth. (He never did ask for her opinion. If she didn't like him, she could just leave.) When he finally crawled into bed, there wasn't much time for the man left to sleep. As a matter of fact, it felt like he had only just closed his eyes when there was a sudden jostling sensation. He hadn't heard anything, and suddenly, the greenrider felt suspiciously like he was being hauled to his feet.
"Good morning, F'sey."
"Go ******** yourself."
No. Wait. F'sey squinted, struggling against the pressure on his arms. Oh. Wait.
Let's try this again.
"What the...what in Faranth's name is going on? Let me go right now, J'aro." He eyed the bulky men holding him in place. "Can't handle me on your own? Just another pretty face? Tell your goons to let me go."
...damnit. That wasn't much better.
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Posted: Wed Dec 08, 2010 5:39 pm
J'aro quirked a brow. Oh, the mask. Sturdy and yet flexible, able to twist and turn in ways that made all kinds of fake expressions. (A certain bronzerider could learn a thing or two from him. Bad habits, but useful ones.) "Goons? I had heard you think of lowly of the whers back home, but..."
The wherhandler's grips got a little tighter.
"Get him outside," J'aro deadpanned, tangling his fingers in his hair.
His posture told of sheer frustration in a superior variety, as if he were having some thieving drudge carted off, not a fellow rider. J'aro wouldn't explain that he didn't need to prove himself a capable fighter because everyone already knew it. Aside from R'xen (with him it was a toss-up), he was quite possibly the most capable one on the living island. And as for their fierce neighbors, the Whermaster and his second, that one was the subject of much debate.
Not his skills alone, though. J'aro had needed to publicly defend himself too many times to be looked down on for that of all things. (They'd have to make due harassing him about other shortcomings.)
Down the halls they went, and he was taking every opportunity to berate this man for all to see. "We expect better from our greenriders here, you know. It's not only our bronzes that have to behave."
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Posted: Wed Dec 08, 2010 6:05 pm
Shards, that hurt. Okay, so perhaps goons wasn't really the best term to use for these brutes, but how could they blame him? Being dragged out of bed at the a**crack of dawn did not a pleasant F'sey make. What the shards was this all about, anyways? Surely it couldn't be usual practice, not even on an island as bizarre as this place seemed to be... Might as well say as much.
"What are you going on about? Let me go, and let me go back to sleep. I was behaving." F'sey scowled. Where did J'aro get off, telling him he-
Oh.
Oh.
That.
"Are you still sore over being punched in the face? What are you, some kind of girl? Grow a pair and get over it. Maybe next time, you shouldn't try to tell me how to handle B'lin, like you know him, or me. Because you don't. So, piss off."
Faranth, why did he open his mouth? He was probably even worse tired than he was drunk; he had absolutely no desire to restrain any of his ire for the troublesome whiterider.
"Go pick on someone else."
Leave me alone, because I'm tired of having to defend myself.
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Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2010 4:16 pm
Being gossiped as a wher-hater and a sexist wasn't going to help him. J'aro could have told him that, but he didn't. Nothing was important enough he could risk saying it without slipping up and saying too much. Wherhandlers that only helped him because of his connections didn't need to know anything more than they already did.
Why wherhandlers instead of dragonriders?
The answer caused a gust of wind to ruffle their clothes and hair. Some green was rising and being obsessively pursued by blues, browns, reds, purples... bronzes. Xanthoth.
J'aro couldn't keep up with which were on the run and he wasn't about to try shuffling through dragonriders during this. The wherhandlers worked just as well if you could ignore their... humor. If that's what they called it.
"Look, I'm a dragonrider," one mocked, sending 'kissy faces' toward his fellow handler. "Can't control myself!"
And the other one? He lost it. Cracked up. Bellowed a round of laughter so loud you could hear it over the screech of some dragon above them.
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Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2010 4:38 pm
At least Ialluth wasn't going to be in chase. It should really be a positive, it should, but Xanthoth was out there. So much for B'lin getting back on his- Damnit! Who was going to make sure the Wingleader got back on his bronze if F'sey was...was... Well, whatever these wherhandlers were about to take him, that's where he'd be. (And frankly, the greenrider did not like his prospects.)
"Oh, like your wher has never Run," the redhead snarled, planting his feet and throwing his weight backwards. Enough of this. He wasn't going another inch with these obnoxious punks!
Wrenching his arms backwards, F'sey did his best to try and pull himself free while the handlers had themselves a good little laugh. Of course, the former Weyrlingmaster had no idea where he would hide, but at least he wouldn't have to deal with these brutes anymore. The redhead gave one massive tug and stumbled backwards.
That wasn't what he had planned...
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Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2010 5:05 pm
J'aro was surprised they had made it outside without a revolt from the angry little bird. He was untangling Rajath's reins from one of the posts when F'sey made his move -- a very ungraceful move. From the corner of his eye he had been watching the fleeting dragons dash this way and that way and imagined how chaotic things were going to be the next time the black rose to mate. This was only a green chase. They were nothing.
He thought nothing of them or F'sey's little tantrum. Had he known the handlers were going to act so impulsive he would have asked Bekar to hand-pick his helpers after he specified he needed controlled, disciplined men.
They weren't far apart, but each island was its own world. Whitehandlers were probably the most rowdy here. Saintly, they were, when set next to some among the Wher Guard and assessed. They dealt with children and dragons and normal life here. Their neighbors with prisoners and escape plans; death and gloom.
Should have predicted they'd act on any island how they behaved on 'their' island.
One launched himself at F'sey with the other not far behind.
Atop his dragon, J'aro scowled. "Will you lot knock it off?!" he hissed, but it fell on deaf ears. Not for lack of trying.
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Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2010 5:32 pm
"FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF."
F'sey didn't have time to say much else before he was smothered by a heap of disgusting, dirty bulk. (At least, the redhead imagined the wherhandlers to be filthy and sweaty. To be honest, he didn't want to check. His nose was wrinkled, though, even with all that chaos. Ugh. He so hated men sometimes.)
"GET OFFA ME!" he raged, squirming wildly beneath both bodies. It wasn't to much avail, the handlers were much larger than the lithe greenrider, and weighed much more. He didn't stand a chance, and after a few minutes of wild thrashing, F'sey got a little quieter. Just a little. Couldn't let them think they were winning.
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Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2010 5:50 pm
J'aro wanted to help, but didn't for two reasons: a) it would be suspicious for him to go out of his way for some new recruit that had hit him and b) Rajath was already heading straight for the border of chaos, and if he didn't keep her under control, someone else would. Someone not so obligated to keep her alive. Possibly someone who didn't look at whites like they did other dragons.
An easy enough mistake to make when she was doing everything in her power to knock him off. He didn't want to ignore F'sey's plight (as much as he deserved it), but he had to center himself if he hoped to calm her down enough she wouldn't go after the whers. They were too close as it was, waiting patiently for their handlers just a ways off to the right.
When at last J'aro managed to settle her (as much as one could settle a white), he demanded they stop their rough handling of 'the rider'. (That sounded impersonal enough for him to get away with it, right? And he had waited long enough to seem impartial, right?)
"They told us to come here to help you." The more reasonable handler was already up and away from F'sey.
"And I'm dismissing you," J'aro informed curtly. "I'll take him there myself if you two can't control yourselves." He navigated the dragon forward a few paces. "You can ride with her or with them, Greenrider."
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Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2010 6:18 pm
The moment the wher handlers started to heft themselves off, F'sey was scrambling to his feet, brushing off the dust and dirt as J'aro bickered with the bulky men. He wasn't paying much attention, to be honest, more concerned with the fact his hair had gone awry and his clothing messed than the conversation. To be honest, the greenrider wasn't terribly interested in the idea of making another break for it. If it meant keeping those brutes off his person, then he would stay. For now.
He'd even ride the w-
"You want me to ride that? Her?" He corrected himself. The former Weyrlingmaster had made enough enemies this evening. F'sey glanced over at the pair of wherhandlers.
"...fine. Let's go." Less of two evils, right? At least J'aro could control that monster.
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Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2010 6:52 pm
J'aro snorted. "Good. Climb up here, and don't be slow about it."
Both the grizzled men were shameless in their back-and-forth insults. From the time they readied their whers until they were out of earshot, up into the sky and heading for the prison, J'aro heard them chastising dragonriders as a whole. They were an extreme example of tensions between one group and the other.
He understood the real problem; plenty of wherhandlers were failed dragonriders, but no one gave up candidacy to go get themselves a wher and twiddle away their lives babysitting the most wicked excuse for humans on Pern. Not that he knew of. They were second class citizens, seen as not good enough for 'better' things. Being a whiterider, he could empathize with that.
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Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2010 7:19 pm
F'sey stared, hesitating despite Rajath's rider's words of warning. He watched the white dragon for what felt like an eternity, the gaurds' comments just white noise in the background. The redhead felt like he might have just sentenced himself to death, all in the name of pride, but- No, he knew better than this. Steeling himself, the greenrider swallowed hard and stepped up to Rajath.
Getting on was an ordeal and a half, and once on, F'sey wrapped himself firmly around J'aro. (He did not want this beast to dump him off to oblivion, and did not put it past her to try, damnit.)
"Not a word," he hissed, settling into an uneasy silence. Oh, Faranth. He was going to die.
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Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2010 7:46 pm
J'aro knew he'd never get him to admit it, and the case may have been he didn't realize it yet, but dragons aside F'sey had two friends on this island. One was him. Did he need to bother listing the other one?
B'lin wouldn't have been comfortable with this. J'aro was different; he'd been 'touchy' since he was a child, seeing contact as just one of many ways to express concern. He still felt that way, though his chances to demonstrate it were few and far between when so many other things he need adhere to. Falsehoods for the sake of the greater good, mostly. (Tacking 'greater good' onto everything just made it so justifiable to him.)
A rough and calloused hand pat F'sey's, following up with a harmless grasp covering his fingers. He'd have scolded any of the White Guard for not keeping both hands firmly holding their riding gear, but there was hypocrisy in everyone.
A lot of it between the two of them for sure.
"You better stop causing trouble, F'sey. These islands won't change for you."
So you better change, the suggestive tone said.
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Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2010 8:24 pm
F'sey flinched, nearly retracting his hand at the comforting pat. However, the greenrider had every intention of staying on board, and if that means keeping his arms around J'aro's waist, then he would damn well latch on like a barnacle. (There were so many dirtier things he could have thought, really. But J'aro. No.)
"I'm not causing trouble, J'aro. I didn't ask the islands to change. I just want to be left alone."
The redhead had just been trying to do his job. Basically, the greenrider's job was to exist and, in his own mind, watch out for B'lin's well-being. That was exactly what he was doing, until a certain whiterider skulked in and blew everything sky high. F'sey didn't think it had really been that big of a deal, but leave it to J'aro to overreact.
"I'm forty-three turns old. What makes you think I'm ready to let these islands break me?"
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Posted: Thu Dec 09, 2010 8:46 pm
Rajath sprang into the air abruptly. They soared over the land, which from above, could have been mistaken as just another Weyr or a Hold. There were the youngsters playing their games, adults working and dragons feasting. It all looked so normal - so happy - until you remembered many of those children had murderers for parents and a portion of those dragons were Impressed to them.
Instead of going between, Rajath circled like a hawk over a carcass.
"Looks Xanthoth got bested." J'aro smirked at the bronze on the grass, screeching defiantly. A little hissy fit, that's all it was. "The wherhandlers you need to worry about, but they aren't the ones that will break you - just your bones."
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