LOG: You're a Disgrace
Date: Day 4, Month 4, Turn 25 (??)
Location: Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
Synopsis: Jessek's getting in trouble already.
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Zaxameth's sending is pitched in a brisk, strangely formal air. Zax, formal? GOodness, something is amiss. << My rider wishes to...>> A pause, consulting with said rider, << seek an audience with yours. >> Big words too. Downright spooky.
Dragon> If it surprises Cadejoth, he doesn't /show/ it - or, at least, not in so many words. A flicker of sparks against metal; the rattle of chains. Then: << We're at home, if she'd visit. Or do you wish him somewhere in particular? >> Clank. Rattle. Clink. (Cadejoth to Zaxameth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Zaxameth's voice is a low, troubled thrum, << We don't wish to intrude, however, my rider would be agreeable in meeting with yours wherever he feels....Wow, I have never seen such colors come out of a human before. >> The drama unfolding is just too much not to share. << Impressive.>>
Dragon> It's that second bit - the colors - that really grabs Cadejoth's attention. He leans in, as though hoping to get some image of what, exactly, is going on through the blue, even as he's saying, << K'del is on his way out. In the bowl? >> (Cadejoth to Zaxameth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Zaxameth's fixation on the scene unfolding heightens and he tunes in the image a bit for the bronze, utterly distracted now. The young man in the bowl, on all fours puking something fiercly. It is an impessive waterfall. << ... ah... huh? yeah, in the bowl...>>
Dragon> To Zaxameth, Cadejoth's 'HUH' is an intrigued one - even eager. But he leaves it alone, and instead gives a silent promise that his rider will be in attendance shortly.
Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
The bowl's vast dirt floor extends in a rough oval from west to east, only sparse clumps of grass surviving between the crisscrossed pathways of daily traffic. To the northwest stand massive gates to the world beyond, allowing people, livestock, and tithes to pass beneath some of the seven jagged spires that stand sentinel over that area of the bowl. In late afternoons, their spindly, fingerlike shadows stretch over that end of the bowl all the way to the living cavern's hulking brass doors in the far north.
Eastward, the bowl sprawls on toward the lake, sloping slightly downward to allow runoff from rain and snowmelt, but to the south it's caged by more cliffs of dark, rough-cut granite. Rocks poke up from the ground here, a few large boulders and many smaller outcroppings worn smooth in spots by time and use. A few ground weyr entrances dot the wall, the most frequented ledge set up like a patio while the largest ledge services the Weyrleaders' complex, directly beside the huge entrance to the hatching sands. A more human-sized entrance, left of that, leads to the galleries.
A layer of patch clouds covers the sky. The air feels cool and damp, but there is no rainfall today.
Jessek breathes shallowly, feeling much improved now that he's ejected much of the toxins making him ill at ease. He stands up straight, not hesitating to look Warucori in the eye. "I know that," he rasps, on account of his throat is aching right alongside his head, now. "But it's not just a bad day I was nursing. I honestly didn't mean to take it out on you." He huffs with frustration and rubs at his brows with thumb and forefinger, shaking his head.
Zaxameth sniffs towards Jessek as he finishes, staring with acute interest at the goings on. There's silence from Cori though and she leaves off smaking the gloves and crosses her arms over her chest. "You honestly didn't mean to take it out on me....?" The question comes in a baffled tone, clearly not believing the words.
Enter K'del, visible at first from a distance, coming down the stairs from the Weyrleader's Complex, and then, closer. He's still shrugging in to his jacket, which is not surprising, given his pace. Glancing about, his gaze first rests upon Zaxameth, and then on the two people - he hurries towards them, terribly careful not to trip on his unlaced bootlaces, which are no doubt getting slippery and awful in the early spring damp. "Warucori? Is something--" He eyes Jessek; his gaze narrows. "Shells."
"No!" Jessek eyes the girl's dragon apprehensively, but pushes on now that her voice doesn't seem to be edged with cold steel. "You just...found me at the wrong time." And evidently, so has K'del. Jessek is too tired and achey to do more than give the Weyrleader a miserable stare, shoulders slumped. He turns toward Cori and lifts a brow. "Well...here's your chance." And he looks away from them both.
Warucori sweeps a hand through her curls and clears her throat, "Well, this wasn't exactly how I wished to speak with you...I am terribly sorry but..." her gaze slides towards Jessek, clearly not wanting to speak about him right in front of his face. "I had something I wanted to speak of in private." There's a fine line between her brows at the young man's pathetic posture now and her eyes roll. "Sir, do you know resident Jessek?" Arms stay crossed over her chest and she still looks like she could breath fire. "He's been introduced to our fine liquor...."
Though K'del gives Cori a polite glance as he comes to a halt not far from the pair, his attention fairly rapidly falls towards Jessek - whose current state gets no small amount of visible disgust from the young Weyrleader. "We've been introduced," he confirms, no doubt for the bluerider, even if he doesn't glance back in her direction. "You know," he adds, to the bouncer himself, "You'd be better off having a couple of social drinks with others, than-- whatever the shell you've been doing here. You're a disgrace."
Jessek doesn't respond to either. He's oddly still, scarcely seeming to breath. His brows are pulled together only slightly, and while his hands ball into fists and release, it's not threatening. Just something to do to keep himself busy. He seems to be...waiting.
Warucori lets out a breath as she watches Jessek, or perhaps it's K'del's response to him. She asks, "You two have already met. Right." A look towards the Weyrleader, measuring his reaction to the lad sicking up, or at least his condition. With a roll of her eyes she shakes her head, "I fear I have wasted your time Weyrleader. Apparently Jessek is having a -very- hard time lately. Poor little thing."
Jessek's lack of response draws a faint shift in expression from K'del, but it's difficult to discern, precisely, what it implies. He turns his attention back towards Warucori, and, shaking his head, says, "No, I don't think so. I'd rather know such things. Did he say anything to you? Do anything? Drunkenness is one thing, but--" He's quite serious in this, raising his eyebrows to encourage a response. Honest, if possible.
Jessek sucks in a deep breath at Warucori's words, hands curling into fists and staying there. A vein pulses in his forehead, but he doesn't rise to her bait. He continues to maintain his withdrawn quiet, eyes fixed on some point in the middle distance.
"I hate to be a whinner," Warucori notes, arms still hugging her front stonily, "and as a hold-bred girl m'self, I understand the adjustment period. However, I came upon Jessek in the stables deep in his cups and he insulted me several times in my effort to try and find out what was wrong. I only asked what was going on when I came across him and he was very hostile towards me." Her nose crinkles, "I just....think it unbecoming of a wery resident Sir. I thought maybe he needed....a word or two. From a man, if you understand my meaning."
K'del's gaze remains steadily upon the bluerider as she speaks; he punctuates his obvious listening with nods in appropriate places, most particularly at mention of her being hold-bred herself. "I do," he agrees, finally, when she's come to the end of her spiel. Turning back to Jessek, his eyebrows raised, he says, "Have anything to say for yourself, Jessek? Do I need to get Cadejoth to haul you into the lake to sober you up first?"
"I'm sober now, sir." Jessek speaks very, very softly, though K'del should still be able to make out his words. "I...could use a bath. And a change of clothes. That's all." Slowly, very slowly, his fists relax. "I told her I was sorry. And I meant it. Not just," he adds sharply, "because I value my job." Pause. "I..don't do social drinks. Because.." He gestures to himself in a broad gesture, indicating his current state. "I was in the hayloft trying NOT to be seen. And I was embarrassed she saw me. Like that. That's all."
Warucori's head bobs at the end and she admits, "He did appologize to me. " She moistens her lips, words half formed but then disregarded with sigh. Silently the bluerider watches the two, not sure what might transpire after tattling on a resident. Nearby Zaxameth huffs, not nearly as interesting now.
K'del listens to Jassek much the same way he listened to Cori, just before: seriously, and with the occasional nod. Finally; "If you're willing to let it go, then, Bluerider, I think we'll do that." He's not completely finished, though, and now, there's at least a small measure of pity in his expression as he considers Jessek. "I believe you," he says, quietly. "But. Go clean yourself up, and then come and see me in my weyr." He indicates it with his thumb: it's hard to miss. "We need to talk."
Jessek nods once, docile as he looks to Warucori. He doesn't quite meet her eyes this time. "Once again, I..I apologize. I can't fault your intentions." Girl or not. He moves in the direction of the inner caverns, pausing as he passes K'del. He mumbles something to him, his voice the barest of whispers, before he leaves to get cleaned up.
Jessek whispers to you, "I'll be right there, sir."
Warucori watches Jessek with a measure of distrust, but she accepts the apology with a nod of her head, even if it doesn't relax her posture at all. She is silent until he is making a path towards the inner cavern, turning to look at K'del curiously. "Thank you. At least for hearing me out." A sigh, "Shards, now -I- need a drink."
K'del sounds surprised as he says, "Of course. I'll hear anyone out, any time." If anything, he seems just faintly offended that she would have thought otherwise. It doesn't last: he's glancing back in the direction Jessek departed in, and shakes his head. "Better get that drink, then. Me, I'd better put some klah on and get ready for-- well. We'll get him sorted out, don't worry about that. See you later, okay?"
Warucori blushes and catches up her lower lip at the offended tone. That worried look is fixed on K'del quickly and she shakes her head to deny that he should take her comment that way. "I just, never had to bring anything to you before..." Nothing like foot in mouth and feeling nervous about leadership to boot. "Anyway, I'll get you a drink sometime."
"I know," says K'del, and he smiles this time: all is forgiven! He actually seems almost sympathetic somehow. "It's all right. It's not an easy thing, sometimes." His head tips forward once more, apparently to confirm, without saying anything officially, her offer of a drink. "I'll see you around," he repeats. "Have a good one." And then he makes for the Weyrleader Complex again, trailing damp bootlaces.
Location: Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
Synopsis: Jessek's getting in trouble already.
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Zaxameth's sending is pitched in a brisk, strangely formal air. Zax, formal? GOodness, something is amiss. << My rider wishes to...>> A pause, consulting with said rider, << seek an audience with yours. >> Big words too. Downright spooky.
Dragon> If it surprises Cadejoth, he doesn't /show/ it - or, at least, not in so many words. A flicker of sparks against metal; the rattle of chains. Then: << We're at home, if she'd visit. Or do you wish him somewhere in particular? >> Clank. Rattle. Clink. (Cadejoth to Zaxameth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Zaxameth's voice is a low, troubled thrum, << We don't wish to intrude, however, my rider would be agreeable in meeting with yours wherever he feels....Wow, I have never seen such colors come out of a human before. >> The drama unfolding is just too much not to share. << Impressive.>>
Dragon> It's that second bit - the colors - that really grabs Cadejoth's attention. He leans in, as though hoping to get some image of what, exactly, is going on through the blue, even as he's saying, << K'del is on his way out. In the bowl? >> (Cadejoth to Zaxameth)
Dragon> To Cadejoth, Zaxameth's fixation on the scene unfolding heightens and he tunes in the image a bit for the bronze, utterly distracted now. The young man in the bowl, on all fours puking something fiercly. It is an impessive waterfall. << ... ah... huh? yeah, in the bowl...>>
Dragon> To Zaxameth, Cadejoth's 'HUH' is an intrigued one - even eager. But he leaves it alone, and instead gives a silent promise that his rider will be in attendance shortly.
Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
The bowl's vast dirt floor extends in a rough oval from west to east, only sparse clumps of grass surviving between the crisscrossed pathways of daily traffic. To the northwest stand massive gates to the world beyond, allowing people, livestock, and tithes to pass beneath some of the seven jagged spires that stand sentinel over that area of the bowl. In late afternoons, their spindly, fingerlike shadows stretch over that end of the bowl all the way to the living cavern's hulking brass doors in the far north.
Eastward, the bowl sprawls on toward the lake, sloping slightly downward to allow runoff from rain and snowmelt, but to the south it's caged by more cliffs of dark, rough-cut granite. Rocks poke up from the ground here, a few large boulders and many smaller outcroppings worn smooth in spots by time and use. A few ground weyr entrances dot the wall, the most frequented ledge set up like a patio while the largest ledge services the Weyrleaders' complex, directly beside the huge entrance to the hatching sands. A more human-sized entrance, left of that, leads to the galleries.
A layer of patch clouds covers the sky. The air feels cool and damp, but there is no rainfall today.
Jessek breathes shallowly, feeling much improved now that he's ejected much of the toxins making him ill at ease. He stands up straight, not hesitating to look Warucori in the eye. "I know that," he rasps, on account of his throat is aching right alongside his head, now. "But it's not just a bad day I was nursing. I honestly didn't mean to take it out on you." He huffs with frustration and rubs at his brows with thumb and forefinger, shaking his head.
Zaxameth sniffs towards Jessek as he finishes, staring with acute interest at the goings on. There's silence from Cori though and she leaves off smaking the gloves and crosses her arms over her chest. "You honestly didn't mean to take it out on me....?" The question comes in a baffled tone, clearly not believing the words.
Enter K'del, visible at first from a distance, coming down the stairs from the Weyrleader's Complex, and then, closer. He's still shrugging in to his jacket, which is not surprising, given his pace. Glancing about, his gaze first rests upon Zaxameth, and then on the two people - he hurries towards them, terribly careful not to trip on his unlaced bootlaces, which are no doubt getting slippery and awful in the early spring damp. "Warucori? Is something--" He eyes Jessek; his gaze narrows. "Shells."
"No!" Jessek eyes the girl's dragon apprehensively, but pushes on now that her voice doesn't seem to be edged with cold steel. "You just...found me at the wrong time." And evidently, so has K'del. Jessek is too tired and achey to do more than give the Weyrleader a miserable stare, shoulders slumped. He turns toward Cori and lifts a brow. "Well...here's your chance." And he looks away from them both.
Warucori sweeps a hand through her curls and clears her throat, "Well, this wasn't exactly how I wished to speak with you...I am terribly sorry but..." her gaze slides towards Jessek, clearly not wanting to speak about him right in front of his face. "I had something I wanted to speak of in private." There's a fine line between her brows at the young man's pathetic posture now and her eyes roll. "Sir, do you know resident Jessek?" Arms stay crossed over her chest and she still looks like she could breath fire. "He's been introduced to our fine liquor...."
Though K'del gives Cori a polite glance as he comes to a halt not far from the pair, his attention fairly rapidly falls towards Jessek - whose current state gets no small amount of visible disgust from the young Weyrleader. "We've been introduced," he confirms, no doubt for the bluerider, even if he doesn't glance back in her direction. "You know," he adds, to the bouncer himself, "You'd be better off having a couple of social drinks with others, than-- whatever the shell you've been doing here. You're a disgrace."
Jessek doesn't respond to either. He's oddly still, scarcely seeming to breath. His brows are pulled together only slightly, and while his hands ball into fists and release, it's not threatening. Just something to do to keep himself busy. He seems to be...waiting.
Warucori lets out a breath as she watches Jessek, or perhaps it's K'del's response to him. She asks, "You two have already met. Right." A look towards the Weyrleader, measuring his reaction to the lad sicking up, or at least his condition. With a roll of her eyes she shakes her head, "I fear I have wasted your time Weyrleader. Apparently Jessek is having a -very- hard time lately. Poor little thing."
Jessek's lack of response draws a faint shift in expression from K'del, but it's difficult to discern, precisely, what it implies. He turns his attention back towards Warucori, and, shaking his head, says, "No, I don't think so. I'd rather know such things. Did he say anything to you? Do anything? Drunkenness is one thing, but--" He's quite serious in this, raising his eyebrows to encourage a response. Honest, if possible.
Jessek sucks in a deep breath at Warucori's words, hands curling into fists and staying there. A vein pulses in his forehead, but he doesn't rise to her bait. He continues to maintain his withdrawn quiet, eyes fixed on some point in the middle distance.
"I hate to be a whinner," Warucori notes, arms still hugging her front stonily, "and as a hold-bred girl m'self, I understand the adjustment period. However, I came upon Jessek in the stables deep in his cups and he insulted me several times in my effort to try and find out what was wrong. I only asked what was going on when I came across him and he was very hostile towards me." Her nose crinkles, "I just....think it unbecoming of a wery resident Sir. I thought maybe he needed....a word or two. From a man, if you understand my meaning."
K'del's gaze remains steadily upon the bluerider as she speaks; he punctuates his obvious listening with nods in appropriate places, most particularly at mention of her being hold-bred herself. "I do," he agrees, finally, when she's come to the end of her spiel. Turning back to Jessek, his eyebrows raised, he says, "Have anything to say for yourself, Jessek? Do I need to get Cadejoth to haul you into the lake to sober you up first?"
"I'm sober now, sir." Jessek speaks very, very softly, though K'del should still be able to make out his words. "I...could use a bath. And a change of clothes. That's all." Slowly, very slowly, his fists relax. "I told her I was sorry. And I meant it. Not just," he adds sharply, "because I value my job." Pause. "I..don't do social drinks. Because.." He gestures to himself in a broad gesture, indicating his current state. "I was in the hayloft trying NOT to be seen. And I was embarrassed she saw me. Like that. That's all."
Warucori's head bobs at the end and she admits, "He did appologize to me. " She moistens her lips, words half formed but then disregarded with sigh. Silently the bluerider watches the two, not sure what might transpire after tattling on a resident. Nearby Zaxameth huffs, not nearly as interesting now.
K'del listens to Jassek much the same way he listened to Cori, just before: seriously, and with the occasional nod. Finally; "If you're willing to let it go, then, Bluerider, I think we'll do that." He's not completely finished, though, and now, there's at least a small measure of pity in his expression as he considers Jessek. "I believe you," he says, quietly. "But. Go clean yourself up, and then come and see me in my weyr." He indicates it with his thumb: it's hard to miss. "We need to talk."
Jessek nods once, docile as he looks to Warucori. He doesn't quite meet her eyes this time. "Once again, I..I apologize. I can't fault your intentions." Girl or not. He moves in the direction of the inner caverns, pausing as he passes K'del. He mumbles something to him, his voice the barest of whispers, before he leaves to get cleaned up.
Jessek whispers to you, "I'll be right there, sir."
Warucori watches Jessek with a measure of distrust, but she accepts the apology with a nod of her head, even if it doesn't relax her posture at all. She is silent until he is making a path towards the inner cavern, turning to look at K'del curiously. "Thank you. At least for hearing me out." A sigh, "Shards, now -I- need a drink."
K'del sounds surprised as he says, "Of course. I'll hear anyone out, any time." If anything, he seems just faintly offended that she would have thought otherwise. It doesn't last: he's glancing back in the direction Jessek departed in, and shakes his head. "Better get that drink, then. Me, I'd better put some klah on and get ready for-- well. We'll get him sorted out, don't worry about that. See you later, okay?"
Warucori blushes and catches up her lower lip at the offended tone. That worried look is fixed on K'del quickly and she shakes her head to deny that he should take her comment that way. "I just, never had to bring anything to you before..." Nothing like foot in mouth and feeling nervous about leadership to boot. "Anyway, I'll get you a drink sometime."
"I know," says K'del, and he smiles this time: all is forgiven! He actually seems almost sympathetic somehow. "It's all right. It's not an easy thing, sometimes." His head tips forward once more, apparently to confirm, without saying anything officially, her offer of a drink. "I'll see you around," he repeats. "Have a good one." And then he makes for the Weyrleader Complex again, trailing damp bootlaces.