[Log] Answers
Who: Islay, Katric, Laemont, Ramalla, Viryn
When: Day 10, Month 9, Turn 2, 7th Pass
Where: Beach, Western Islands
What: Katric irritates Laemont again; Islay has a question for Katric; and things get interesting for everybody's favorite egg-smasher when he answers one of Laemont's questions.
On a Western Island, Beach
The island's south-facing beach is long and narrow, tapering in broad curves to the east and west. The grey sand slopes up toward a short, rocky precipice. The cliff is about the height of a tall man, and several paths have been worn or cut into it. They lead to the treeline of a tropical forest, tall and shadowy even in the brightest sunshine.
Three islets are visible to the south, separated from the big island by relatively calm and shallow sea. The two nearest islet frames the silhouette of the farthest one and could be reached by capable swimmers. The third islet is far beyond the other two, a mere shape visible out to sea. Boats await at the shoreline for fishing and travel to the islets.
In the dry season, the tropical island can truly be viewed as a haven. The weather is warm to hot; green flourishes everywhere and is peppered by various other vibrant colors. Sun stretches over the island during the day, and bright stars wink down at night. The cool winds blow and swirl, providing a pleasing counterpoint to the heat.
Contents:
Laemont
Ramalla
Obvious Exits:
Narrow Path (NP)
Having escaped such invasive questioning, Laemont now sits comfortably atop a large boulder not far from the tide. He has his legs folded beneath him and is still eating his fish stew, hair tied back from his face by his scarf, which wraps fully around his head and trails down over his back. He seems calm, unhurried, and patient, eating at a slow and languid pace.
After finishing his own dinner, Katric heads off to the infirmary cave again, and then, with a small pouch in hand, back through camp toward the beach. He stops at the treeline, scanning the area until he finds the form he's looking for. Then, he sets off after Laemont, approaching from behind the other young man. He pauses once, then keeps on, finally halting a yard or so away from him. "Hi?" he announces himself simply.
It would seem fish stew is an aquired taste. After sipping at the stuff, Viryn abandoned hers -- leaving the bowl on the edge of the clearing for some lucky wanderer, and starting away from the group. It's coincidence, more than any real attempt at /following/ him, that has Viryn emerging on the same spot of beach as Laemont. And apparently, she's not the first... The jeweler hesitates upon seeing Katric's approach, and her breath is released in a half-audible sigh. "You're goin' to make it worse," she mutters, too soft to carry. It's not her place -- yet -- to interfere with the inner-workings of this place.
Ramalla has given up on eaten fish stew and has opted instead for fruits and other edible plants instead at least for this meal. Unlike Katric, this healer is coming from one end of the beach and is heading back towards the camp. "Fruit anyone? It'll kill the fish taste from that stew that I heard they were serving tonight."
Laemont turns his head at the sound of Katric's voice, taking in the man from under his messy blonde bangs before he says, simply, "Hello." He looks beyond Katric to Viryn, affording her a very faint smile before he looks to his nearly empty bowl. It is his slow way of eating that has made it last this long, and he is in no rush to finish it. When he hears Ramalla's offer, he lifts a hand in acceptance of it, "I'll take some, if you please..."
"They serve fish every night," Katric notes matter-of-factly to Ramalla, though he doesn't look her way. He's studying Laemont curiously, cocking his head, and finally moving to seat himself nearby, at the base of the rock Laemont sits on. "I got some stuff from the infirmary, if you want it," he notes after a moment, tilting his head back against the rock to look up at Laemont. He even, helpfully, lifts the pouch to show it off. "Wouldn't know why you wouldn't, though," he has to add. "But." Viryn is unnoticed, for the moment.
As Katric starts in again, Viryn's uttering a sighed curse and taking a few steps forward. "You don' catch on too quick, do you?" The girl's accent is heavy with disuse, and her expression shows open bemusement, mingling with half-formed irritation. He's not interrogating /her/, after all... "He doesn' want your help, an' he doesn' want your questions." The girl finishes her sandy approach, arms sliding across her chest, and her chin tipping to the side. Staring down at Katric, and raising one dubious 'brow as she awaits his response. As for Ramalla's offer of fruit? Ignored, for now. She's a bit... preoccupied.
Ramalla tosses a redfruit towards Laemont as she passes, her nose wrinkling at Katric "I know they do, and the fruit helps kill the after taste." Fish being the main meat on the island, Ramalla has learned what helps ot make it more edible or at least kill the lingering tastes it leaves behind. "You okay?" she asks as she stops to look over her shoulder at Laemont, "I'm a healer too if that helps any."
Laemont utterly ignores Katric when he brings up the brusing once more - the young man has bruises along one side of his face and down along his neck. He accepts the fruit with a smile only to sigh as she brings up being a healer as well, clutching the fruit hard enough that it actually bleeds juice through his fingers. He sighs, relaxing and licking the juice from his hands before he says, strainedly, "I'm fine. Thank you for the fruit." He takes a bite from it, turning his attention to the ocean. He pauses only to cast a grateful look in Viryn's direction.
"I didn't even ask anything now!" Katric protests, looking hurt--kicked-puppy hurt, in fact. He's very good at that. He does, though, make shooing motions at Ramalla, as though she were intruding--not like he'd driven Laemont off himself and then stalked him afterward. At least he falls silent, lips pursing, when Laemont brushes him off /this/ time.
As Ramalla makes mention of the shared craft, Viryn's head is shaking... but she doesn't chastise the woman. She didn't know better. Katric, on the other hand... "If you're really a healer, do what's best for him." It's a snapped comment, her eyes narrowed. "Leave. Him. Alone." Each word is pronounced with perfect clarity, and a hissed breath follows. Taking a half-step backward, balancing herself, and then flickering a look toward Laemont. His look is met with a single-shouldered shrug, and then she's pulling her gaze away. Staring out at the water, and drawing a forcibly slow breath. Judging by the venom that's only now starting to fade, this is an... issue... that has little to do with the musician. Poor Katric.
Ramalla offers a redfruit to Katric as she passes, "Don't worry I'm going. Need to report to the infirmery for my turn in the cave." evidently taking the shooing motion in the wrong way. "I'll leave the basket outside the infirmery if anyone wants more." With that though the girl is climbing up and back towards the encampment.
Ramalla has disconnected.
Katric just stares at Viryn a long moment, silent. Then, still looking hurt, he pushes himself back to his feet, pays no mind to Ramalla again, and instead thrusts the pouch of herbs at Laemont. "Here. Just... Just take it, at least," he insists. "Dump 'em out in the water or whatever, just... If you could bring the pouch back to the infirmary later?"
Laemont shifts to his feet slightly, looking to Viryn in silence for a moment before he turns his attention to Katric, reaching out to rest his hand and wrist on the man's shoulders - he's still holding his fruit after all. He looks at him seriously, a light frown on his features, "Katric... I'm sorry for being harsh with you. I know you're trying to help. But you have to accept that there are some things people don't want to talk about. You can't badger them over it like this. It's aggravating and, to be honest, you made me extremely uncomfortable. Don't you get that? If you're going to listen to people... you have to actually listen." He accepts the herbs and tucks them into his belt, but even doing this seems to make something in his stomach twist and he turns away from the man, settling back down on the rock comfortably.
As Laemont's demeanor shifts toward kind and understanding, Viryn's flushing a ruddy pink. Another breath escaping her in some combination of sigh and hiss, and a hard-to-read look swept upward. Hovering for a moment on Laemont's features, and then fading toward neutral as she looks toward Katric. An apology? Not likely. In some roundabout way, the girl's humiliated herself, and doubling back now would only worsen the issue. And so she's offering the faintest shake of her head and taking a blind step backward. Not leaving the beach, but putting some tangible distance between herself and the other two exiles. Keeping silent.
"S'okay," mutters Katric, shrugging as he looks back to Laemont when the other man touches him. "Forget I offered. Didn't mean to... you know. Whatever I did. I'll see you later, I guess." Pause. "I probably won't be in the infirmary on duty tonight," he offers then, as though that might make things better.
Islay has connected.
Laemont looks in Viryn's direction, shifting his knuckles against his knee and murmuring, voice audible, soothing, but not loud, "Thanks for helping, Viryn... it was nice to have some backup." He smiles at her with fair warmth only to look up at Katric as well, his brows knitting while sunlight strikes off his hair like burnished gold, "You just pushed a little too much. That's all. You don't have to leave if you don't want to."
Laemont's thanks earns a flickered look from Viryn, but it seems she's done talking. A faint shake of her head -- standing in for the typical 'don't worry about it' -- and then she's looking back to the water. A moment or two is spent staring at the waves, and then the girl's stepping forward. Lowering herself to the sand -- a practiced looking motion -- and then settling herself crosslegged atop it. Running away would be too easy.
Sheepishly, Katric rubs the bridge of his nose, eyeing Laemont. "Okay," he consents. And that's apparently that--sulkiness passed, he slides back down the rock at Laemont's feet. He looks to Viryn when she sits down, too, watching her. Oh, he's certainly curious, but he's learned his lesson about asking questions--at least for tonight.
Down to the beach comes Islay. It's a time when she's finished her work for the day, and plans to simply lie on the beach for a while, maybe go for a swim. Or, maybe fish a little, for she carries those two sharpened fishing spears with her. She pauses, glancing around at the various people there, head canting to one side as she studies each of them. She knows them by face, if not by name, her eyes settling on each one for a moment before moving on. Then, as if having made some mental decision, she strolls leisurely down the path and pauses near the rock cliff. Sinking to the sand, she offers a non-committal, "Hullo."
A non-committal, "Hello," is Laemont's appropriate response as the quiet young Harper looks to her, smiling faintly only to breathe a long, relaxing sigh and lean back on his elbows, shifting the pack on his back so that he doesn't crush his gitar. He crosses his ankles and looks out across the ocean, basking in the heat of the low sun and letting his lashes shield his view from the harsher rays. Mmmm. Waaaarm.
"Hi," Katric echoes Islay and Laemont, glancing sideways at the girl as she approaches. He even lifts a hand toward her, though it's a lazy greeting at best.
Islay studies Katric with a rather neutral expression, acknowledging his greeting with a nod. Her head tilts to the side for a moment, and she tugs on an errant strand of hair as she seems to contemplate something. "Heard yer a healer," she finally says, voice a little rough around the edges, but pleasant enough. She lifts a hand. "Got poked by a shardin' prickleback packfish t'other day when I was cleanin' 'im. Hurtin' now." It doesn't look bad, just a little red and puffy. "Ain't never hurt a'fore, but m'hands were kinda messy when it happened."
Katric perks right up at that. "You need a healer?" he says at once. "Let me see it." He waves her over--he's not getting up just yet, after all. He holds out a hand for hers to inspect the wound.
Shrugging, Islay pushes herself upright, not bothering to brush sand from her legs or behind. "Ain't never hurt none a'fore," she repeats, moving over to Katric. There's a faintly wary expression on her face as she squats down beside him, her eyes the color of a stormy sky and cautious. "Don't know if'n it needs a'healer 'r not. Jus' started hurtin' an' ..." She shrugs, extending the injured hand. There are, incidentally, numerous scars on her hands, some large, some small, each of them a lighter color than her tanned skin.
"If it hurts," Katric says sagely, "it needs a healer." He pulls Islay's hand toward him, and leans over to inspect it, then give it a gentle touch, lips pursing. "It's not bad," he notes, "but it is trying to get infected. Go to the infirmary cave, and tell them to give you--" he lists off a couple of plants easily, and notes how to use each, glancing up intently at Islay. He seems much more at home when actually fulfilling healer duties.
She listens, does Islay, and then nods when he finishes. "Infected?" There's a dubious sound to the word. "Is that when it gets all runny 'n stuff?" she asks, head once more canting to the side. "Saw a man oncet what had this big sore on 'is leg. It were stinkin' an' all. Don't know whut happen'd to it, though. That was when I was little." Obviously back on the mainland. "Yer name's Katric, Laivok said. I'm Islay," she adds. "Thanks fer lookin' at it. Don't want it t'get 'fected."
"Yeah, that's me," Katric affirms, nodding. "You met Laivok?" His brows arch slightly, but he nods again. "Yeah, that's pretty much what it will look like. It'll swelly, get pus-y, and hurt lots. When it gets really bad, it will go septic, and it's kind of like... rotting from the inside, to some extent. It'll kill you. If that infection was bad enough to be smelling like that, he's either dead or they cut his leg off." All very matter-of-fact.
Islay nods as Katric speaks, apparently not at all sickened by the description given of what happens when a wound gets infected. "Don't sound too good, do it?" she says frankly. "Well, don't want nuthin' like that happ'nin' t'me hand, so's I'll do what you says." There's another nod. "Yah, m'Da works with 'Vok. I knows him but he ain't no close friend. Jus' know 'im." She shrugs again. "He's all right, though." The girl shifts back a bit, sinking to the sand. "You ain't been here long." It's a statement, not a question.
"He's nice," agrees Katric, pushing his hair back and glancing up at Islay. He releases her hand as she resituates herself, still studying her. Laemont and Viryn, both sitting silently nearby, are almost forgotten. "A couple of months or so now. Longer than I intended," he remarks, shrugging.
Another nod. "So, whut y'done t'get sent here?" Islay asks. "Everbody done summat t'end up here," she adds. "Don't gotta say nuthin' if'n y'don't wanna. Just curious is all."
Katric hesitates. "Nothing /bad/," he notes, stressing the latter words. "I mean, it was for the greater good--it had to be done. Just... The Weyrleaders didn't quite see it that way." Shrug.
Islay's head cants to the side again, studying Katric for a long moment. Those eyes of hers seem to have a very penetrating gaze, almost disturbing in a way. "Well, don't know nuthin' 'bout nobody like that. Them's the ones what live in th'weyrs, right? Run things? M'Da, he ain't got much good t'say 'bout t'riders, but th' dragons look pretty agin' th' sky when they're flyin'. I like t'watch 'em fishin'." She shrugs. "Ain't nobody does summat f't'good of all, says m'Da. He says it's ever'body fer themselves, an' nobody gonna help ya when yer down." She shrugs again. "That's what he says, leastways."
"Well, he's wrong," Katric notes simply. "Maybe some people are like that, but not all of them. /I'm/ not, and Donavon's not, and E'sere, and everybody else that's on our side of this. We were fixing things, fixing them after everybody else ruined them, and when everything's finally sorted out, they're going to come back for us."
There's a crease in Islay's forehead as she listens to Katric. She apparently has /no/ idea what he's talking about, and is, perhaps, confused by some of the words he uses. Donovan's name she's heard, but the other, E'sere, she hasn't. "Who's that?" she asks plainly. "Who's comin' fer us?" There's a bit of a nervous edge to her voice now.
"What'd you do, Katric?" comes Laemont's echoing, melodic voice, the Harper turning his head slightly before he looks to Islay, his own hazel eyes neither intense nor readable by any means. He listens to what she has to say only to comment, "I think Katric means his comrades are going to show up and take them back to the mainland." He looks across the ocean and murmurs, softly, "The mainland can rot for all I care."
"A friend of mine," Katric confirms. "And, well. I don't think he'll... Yeah." A nod, as he glances back up to Laemont. He hesitates, then admits, "I killed a couple of people. And kidnapped a girl--but that was okay, because she understood why we had to do it. And... Well. That's it, mostly." Katric looks shifty; he's not a great liar.
Those stormy, blue-grey eyes regard Katric for another moment, flickering toward Laemont, then back. "Ain't all of it, but yer don't have t'answer," she says, as if she can read the healer fairly well. Then she nods. "M'da done some stuff like that. He worked f'Derek. Still does." She shrugs. "I used t'help him, only we got ratted out by someone, an' sent here." The eyes goes back to Laemont for a moment. "Yah, don' need t'go back. Ain't got nuthin' there, so's there ain't no reason t'be there." Her uninjured hand reaches down and makes patterns in the sand. "So, why did kidnap t'girl? She one of them weyrleaders?"
Laemont blinks at Katric, his eyebrows arching as he says, voice somewhat cold, "Someone trained to save lives murdered people. How ironic. What else did you do?" Apparently, Laemont isn't quite so accepting of not having the question answered. Maybe it's revenge for being badgered earlier? Who knows. He takes another bite out of his redfruit, glancing to Islay when she speaks up as well only to make a soft sound in his throat.
Predictably, Katric's eyes glaze when Aida's brought up. "Because. She was weyrmated to a brownrider who took a wingleader's knot from this Igenite Weyrleader that took over the Weyr. And we were against the Igenites, so Br'ce taking the knot was a total betrayal of us. So we took Aida and made him step down again. She understood--she understood why. She came to visit me, after they caught me on the sands." His grin is downright goofy. "So there's plenty back on the mainland for me. Her, and my family, and the Weyr--all of it." Long, long pause. Katric looks up at Laemont, unblinking, and finally he shrugs and notes, "I smashed eggs."
Pale eyebrows lift at this loquacious rendering of his crimes. Islay regards Katric still, watching his lips move, then lifting to meet his eyes when he looks back at her. "Smashed eggs?" The head canting seems to be a habit with her. "What kinda eggs you smash what got them upset with you?" There's an odd expression on her face as she apparently tries to work through the confusing rush of words. Then, a nod. "Ah, yer sweet on 'er, an' y'didn't like her boyfriend what took ... whatever it was he took." She nods sagely, as if this makes all the sense in the world to her. "Well, mebbe she ain't sweet on you when's y'get back. You gonna snatch 'er agin?"
Laemont stares openly at Katric, his knowledge of exactly what sort of eggs smashed showing bright on his features in a sort of horrified way. He doesn't glance at Islay, but he does answer her, "Dragon eggs. You... you murdered baby dragons. Didn't you?" The Harper's voice is low and soft as he continues to look at Katric, and it may be a good thing that his eyes express very little. Katric's relating, so fondly, of Aida just makes Laemont feel a little ill, if only because it follows what he says and because of that goofy grin.
"I didn't take her because I liked her," Katric protests, shaking his head. "That happened afterward. And anyway, she /does/ like me, I know it--she came to see me and told me she understood. And... yes." The latter simple confirmation to Laemont. Katric tucks his hair back again absently. "They were Igenite dragons," he notes, as though that made it acceptable. "They shouldn't have been on our sands. I only got two of them, though--two of them completely, anyway. There was one more that was damaged, but it didn't quite finish breaking open before they caught me." All said in that same matter-of-fact tone as when he's discussing injuries.
Viryn has spent her life away from the Weyrs, but even the peasant craftsmith knows that Katric's crime was... taboo. As such, the confession has the woman glancing sharply upward. 'Brows arching high, and then knitting low on her forehead as she watches the group converse. Katric is studied yet again -- in a new light now -- and then a look is swept toward Laemont. Gauging the musician's reaction.
But Islay's confused. "Why does it matter 'bout what where them eggs was?" she asks. "We got dragon eggs here, too. Guess somebody's gonna have t'be them dragons riders, huh?" She's never been around weyrfolk much, and only ever heard her father disparage the riders and weyrleaders. So, the taboo-ness of Katric's crime doesn't mean all that much to her. "I don't get it. If'n she likes ya, why ain't she here, too? 'R why didn't she try t'stop 'em from sendin' y'here?" A pause. "If'n she still there, why ain't she comin' with yer friends t'take y'back?"
Laemont may not be a fighter, but he is also not lax on the physical front. Quick reflexes throw his lean weight towards Katric, long hands grabbing him by the front of his shirt and shoving him back into the sand as usually calm hazel eyes burn with an ungodly sort of heat, as though he was too disgusted with Katric to even try to kill him, "You psychotic, self-indulgent, maniacal, murdering bastard!" He slams Katric into the sand to puncuate this insult, but he's not done yet, "Do you think the Red Star cares if they were Igen's or not?!? Do you think the MOTHERS of the people and dragonets you killed cared?!? Would you have murdered an infant visiting from Igen to prove your so-important point?! Murdering people for stupid reasons is one thing, but DRAGONS?! Dragons are all that stand between us and sharding THREADS OF DEATH, you idiot! You try to make it sound like you were a Faranth-damned hero, but all you are is a child and a murderer! You are a failure to your Craft, and a failure as a human being. I hope you are scored so ugly, Aida is sick at the sight of you." He doesn't let Katric go so much as he throws him back into the sand, spitting at Katric before he stalks away. The tension in that athletic frame is suggestive of violence, so it's probably best that he leave.
Katric's reply to Islay is cut off when Laemont throws himself on the healer. Katric yelps in undignified fashion, squinching his eyes shut and averting his face, as though expecting a blow. All that really happens, though, is a lot of yelling, and he's shoved around in the sand a bit. Katric looks upset, hurt, but uninjured as Laemont gets off him, and the former healer, sand-covered, props himself up on his elbows to stare at Laemont. "It wasn't like that!" he protests, but quietly. "It was... It wasn't something I /wanted/ to do. It just... had to be done."
Islay's reactions have been honed over the turns, and she spent far too many days and nights working in a tavern not to know when to get out of the way of a brawl. But, she's not quite fast enough this time, since violence isn't really a way of life here on the island. It's discouraged. "Hey!" she growls, lunging to one side as Katric is bowled backwards by Laemont, then is just as quickly back. "Cut it out," is cried then, as she sits back up and starts brushing sand off her face and arms. "Don't matter whut he done /there/, s'long as he don't do it here," she says, rather pragmatically. "Ain't none of us here got no lily white hands," she points out. "He ain't killed nobody here, leastways. Leave 'em be." Her own face betrays some anger. "If'n he was followin' orders'r summat, he ain't no choice but t'do whut he's been told."
"You murdered unborn children... and who knows how many people will die in the future for the sake of those dragons not being there. Had to be done? You go back and explain that to children whose mother dies because Thread makes it through the ranks, or the people that were supposed to be those dragons' matches," Laemont says, pausing to look back at Katric before he looks to Islay and says, sharply, "No man is forced to do something without making a choice. Don't go on about things you don't know anything about. There are plenty of people here with white hands. What he's done... that goes beyond crime. It goes against morality, and intelligence. You don't kill the guard protecting the nursery, and you sure as shell don't smash eggs. They weren't just dragons, or Igenites, they were babies. Babies that hadn't even seen the world yet. That sort of killing is never right, not by anyone's eyes." Laemont? Did absolutely nothing to get on this island. His jaw set, he glares quietly at Katric for a few seconds longer before he spits again and just says, "I hope you're pleased with yourself, pleased about doing the 'right thing', and I hope you ask the skies every day that no one ever takes 'what must be done' as killing off your family, or Aida, or anyone else that might've been important to you. You gonna be able to look at them and say 'no, that's all right, it needed to be done' then, smartarse? Maybe when you go back, you can kill off the dragonets themselves, show their 'mates what it must feel like to have their hearts ripped out right before they kill themselves. You didn't think of the greater good. You didn't think of them at all. No one who was would've done something so stupid." Laemont really needs to leave now. As noted, he's never killed someone, and it'd be a bad idea to start. So, as it is, he simply continues down the beach and away from the others, a taut figure against the shadows of the trees, his hair glowing like fire.
"If it had to be done," Katric notes quietly. "If it had to be done, I could kill them." He frowns and glances away, dusting vainly at himself. "I'll see you later," he finally notes as he gets back to his feet, gingerly, sand sliding off him. He shoots one last look after Laemont, then turns to head off in another direction, by himself.