Log: In which Taikrin is really just an innocent in all this. Really!
Date: Day 14, Month 6, Turn 22 of Interval 10
NorCon MUSH - 4/11/2010
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Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
Ringed by rough granite walls to all sides but one, this end of the huge bowl narrows from the even broader plain to the west, continuing the ever so slight downward slope toward the blue and green of the Weyr's lake and surrounding foliage. More open to sun and wind than the western bowl, but less frequented when there aren't weyrlings in residence, the bowl's grassy tufts keep the topsoil in place and thicken into a bloodstained meadow within the feeding pens that adjoin the lake.
At the base of the surrounding cliffs lie entrances to several caverns, including the dragon infirmary and the weyrling barracks: the former to the northwest near where the spires begin, the latter opposite to the southwest. Both archways are large and dark enough for any dragon to pass through, but it's the infirmary's that is haunted by faint smells of redwort and numbweed, as though over generations they have seeped into the very stone.
Towards the south-eastern end of the bowl, a large area has been cordoned off with heavy ropes. The bowl wall has mostly been covered by enormous lengths of oiled cloth, hiding damage left in the wake of the meteor and eye rock, which fell here.
The sun is high in the sky and there is not a cloud in sight. There's a breeze that tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air.
Obvious exits:
Guest Weyr Dragon Infirmary Weyrling Area Feeding Grounds Lake Shore West Bowl
It is a summer afternoon, 16:08 of day 14, month 6, turn 22 of Interval 10.
Meara heads in from the western bowl.
Meara has arrived.
G'brion has arrived.
Pterath has arrived.
By this point in the afternoon, lessons are supposed to be completed for the day, and perhaps, officially, they have been, but an assemblage of weyrlings - and Meara - remain in the bowl anyway. What was an attempt by F'reln to teach holdbred Elsan how to defend herself has turned into unofficial self-defense practice, developing the skills the Weyrwoman taught in earlier classes, last month. Meara wanders between pairs, keeping an eye out for problems, her eyes shaded from the late afternoon glare with one of her hands.
Silarra heads in from the weyrling area.
Silarra has arrived.
Liniath has arrived.
Paired up with Taikrin, G'brion falls back after they've completed one of the exercises to catch his breath. He grins at her; exercise puts him in a good mood. "Can we try that thing where you try to punch me and I duck out of the way?" he asks her.
Taikrin has been, well, not the best team player in this little impromptu event, which might have something to do with her well-proven prowess in the earlier lessons, but probably has /more/ to do with the animosity between herself and F'reln. Only half her attention is on G'brion: the other is fixed on the former guard and, in between blocking blows she's been muttering snarky comments to G'brion. Such as, "Think y'could fit a whole dragon in th'openings that idiot's leaving." She's barely breathing hard, and obviously enjoying herself to judge from the grin she shoots back at G'brion. "Yeah, sure. Ready?" And with no more than a wink she's throwing a right hook at the side of G'brion's head. He better duck fast!
Silarra has been paired up with a tall, rather gangly boy. There's a brighter than normal smile on her face as she manages to use one of the throws to toss the bigger guy to the ground. "Whoa! I wish you could have seen yourself fly!" She notes with a snarky undertone before adding. "You okay?" Even as the man is standing back up.
G'brion is more used to having time to get all set up in a defensive stance, so Taikrin's sudden move takes him by surprise, and she wallops him upside the head before he has time to react. Stunned, he staggers backward and sits down hard. "Owwwwww! Shardit, I wasn't ready," he complains, shaking his head to clear the ringing. "You have to give me more time than /that/." Because as G'brion knows so well, people who are about to sucker punch you totally give you a good ten seconds' warning to get ready, first.
If F'reln is aware of Taikrin's commentary, he's not showing it: actually, he's being quite a patient teacher for poor Elsan, who has yet to actually connect one of her flailing blows with any part of him. Meara pauses to watch the pair for a moment, but her only response is an approving nod as, once again, the brown weyrling attempts to explain things; moving on, she ends up in front of Silarra and her partner. "Nicely done, Silarra," says the Weyrlingmaster. "But let's be nice about it, mmm?"
"Gabe!" Taikrin's first reaction is contrition, though as it becomes apparent that the green weyrling isn't actually hurt, it's replaced by a lopsided grin. "Aw, c'mon. I taught you better'n that! Yer makin' me look bad f'r Guardface over there!" The few steps separating them are closed in a quick motion, and a hand offered. "Y'/know/ nobody's gonna give y'time t'get ready."
Silarra glances over to Meara with a look that rather clearly shows that the Weyrlingmaster is ruining all her fun. "But if I wasn't being nice about it, I would have followed it with a kick or a blow while he was down." Silarra points out, probably making her partner feel /so/ much better about this.
"And if you were being /actually/ nice, you wouldn't try to rub it in at all. This is /practice/, Silarra. We're aiming to improve our skills, not make people feel bad." But Meara doesn't sound /too/ concerned, even if the smile she aims at Silarra's partner is apologetic and encouraging. "Try it again?"
G'brion takes Taikrin's hand to pull himself to his feet. "Well - yeah, but - I just didn't think you were gonna be that /fast/," he says ruefully, and rubs at the side of his head. "Well, at least you didn't get me on the nose, huh?" He grins at her. The byplay between Silarra and her partner isn't lost on him; he glances over, and then says to Taikrin, "Remind me not to get in a fistfight with Silarra. Well, or you. But especially not Silarra."
Meanwhile, Elsan seems to have enough, and backs away from F'reln teary-eyed: she can't do it, it's not fair to make her! With one of the other girls chasing her escape back to the barracks, F'reln is left free to wander across and watch Taikrin and Gabe. "Want some proper lessons, G'brion?" he wants to know. "Clean fighting. Can't trust /her/." Taikrin. And maybe Silarra, too, for that matter.
Silarra must hear that because she turns to give Gabe a smile that's rather satisfied. "I could take you down with one hand behind my back!" She calls over to Gabe before she's looking back over to Meara considering it. "Can't I just leave it to Liniath to be nice? She cares about that stuff." But then she'll turn back to her partner. "Ready when you are." If he's not ready to run away by now.
Taikrin gives a faint grunt as she hauls back on her hand to give G'brion a firmer hand up. "Yeah, well, y'gotta be fast or yer gonna get flattened, ain'tcha?" She follows G'brion's glance to Silarra, and does nothing but shrug as she settles herself back into a fighting stance once again. "Girl ain't bad, but she ain't so good as she thinks, neither. Gonna get her ass beat, carryin' on like that." And then F'reln's there, making comments, and Taikrin reacts rather like a cat facing a strange dog. "Can trust me not t'teach 'im how t'leave himself open a mile wide, that's f'r bloody sure. Don't leave /my/ partners cryin', neither." So she didn't miss that little act, either. Her grin becomes downright nasty, then, as she throws a feinting physical jab at Gabe to match the verbal one to the brown weyrling, "But I guess that's how y'like 'em? Cryin'?"
Still laughing at Silarra's comment, Gabe spins out of the way of Taikrin's jab easily, and comes to rest facing F'reln. Being small, he's fairly light on his feet. "Sounds like a personal problem you got there," he says snidely to F'reln. "I trust Taikrin just fine. Come on." Fists up, he stands ready to meet the other boy's attack, with a glint of determination in his eye that wasn't there when he was sparring Taikrin.
"And so should you," says Meara, firmly, to Silarra. Probably, she intends to wait and make sure this fight continues clean, but a chance turn of the head has her catching F'reln's approach towards the other two, and her gaze narrows. "Clean, Silarra," she reminds, and then she half turns to watch, teeth resting just barely on her lower lip. Apparently, Silarra's not the only one who might need reminding to be nice, today.
"Like to see you do better," says F'reln, snide and dismissive of Taikrin's remarks. One of his hands has gone to his hip, the other swings loosely at his side. His sigh is long-suffering: "Put your fists down, G'brion. I'm not going to fight you if you're going to be like that. Don't got the time to waste on that."
"Even I could probably not make her cry! Unless I really wanted to!" Silarra calls over to F'reln before she's turning back to gangly boy. "Let's go." And this time, it's not right into tossing him, moving instead to practice blocking the taller guy's punches. It's mostly clean at least.
Taikrin snorts derisively at F'reln, sidestepping to stand nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with G'brion, reaching out to ruffle his hair distractedly. "Taught a whole set of 'em how back when you was still playin' house with all our good friends in th'caves. Gabe, Silarra, Shad, coupl'a others. An' let me see..." A finger taps thoughtfully at her lips. "Reckon I didn't make any of 'em cry too much, /an'/ I had a broken arm. So." Lips quirk devilishly. "Reckon that makes me better'n you all around. 'Less you want t'prove it some other way, like?"
"Oh, but you have time to come over and be a jerk to Taikrin," Gabe says, his voice heavy with sarcasm. He lowers his fists, but doesn't drop his guard altogether. Of course Taikrin can speak for herself, and Gabe will let her, though he does add in an aside afterward, "He's probably just moody 'cause he's on his cycle, it'll be better in a couple of days." To F'reln, much too sweetly: "You know they have tea for that, right?"
By this point, most of the remaining weyrlings have come to a halt to watch the exchange between Taikrin and G'brion, and F'reln. The male, brownriding weyrling's gaze narrows, but that's the only visible sign that his calm has been interrupted by the insults sent his way. At first, anyway; after a few moments, his lip curls, "Would stay quiet if I were you, pillow-biter. And as for /you/..." He turns his attention back to Taikrin. "I'm watching you. Don't think I'm not. /One/ slip, and I'll have you /gone/."
Meara manages to keep half an eye on Silarra's fight, but, well, there are perhaps more worrying things to keep an eye of, though for now, she doesn't intervene.
Silarra ends the fight with her partner, throwing him to the ground once again, with exactly the same move she's used the first time. This time, there's no snarky comment to him. Instead the short weyrling is stalking over to F'reln, ignoring her fallen partner altogether. Apparently she was listening as she was sparring. "Don't you /dare/ insult my cousin like some holdbound idiot. Or Taikrin." Though the second comes almost as an afterthought.
"Yeah, you keep on watchin'. Better get used t'enjoyin' th'view, 'cause I reckon you an' Rhabarith're gonna be seein' a whole lotta our backside, way /you/ been goin'." Taikrin's posture remains fighting-ready, her smirk confident, but there's a certain line of tension that runs through her frame. "An' what, or else yer gonna try t'make /him/ cry? Big man like you, gotta pick on a boy like 'im?"
"What the shell is a pillow-biter?" G'brion asks, nonplussed. He hasn't heard that one before. When Silarra comes over, he looks around and sees all the weyrlings staring, and realizes things are starting to get out of hand. "Alright, alright. Look, shit-for-brains," yes, this is his idea of de-escalating things, "everybody here knows that what happens to /her/," he jerks a thumb at Taikrin, "is not up to /you/. So. Are we gonna spar, or are you gonna keep mewling about what a tiny dick you have?"
Meara takes a step forward as /more/ weyrlings get involved, but before she can open her mouth, F'reln does. He's guard trained; that means he's trained to notice things, and that is almost certainly why he suddenly looks /so/ smug: he's noticed that tension in Taikrin, oh yes. "Going to catch you," he tells her, serious, as if the insults never got said, as if there's no one else there. "Oh yes. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I will. My apologies, Weyrlingmaster," he adds, turning abruptly on his heel to face Meara. "If you'll excuse me." And he's off. /Whistling/.
"It's a rude thing to call someone who's gay. Heard an asshole taunting someone when we were travelling using it. Punched him in the face." Silarra informs her cousin. Even if she might not really know enough about sex to know /why/ that term might work. F'reln gets a flat out glare at his back as he walks off. "He tries something, you know we'll support you, right?" Silarra adds over to Taikrin.
Taikrin's confidence is bolstered by Silarra and G'brion's arrival, and it would be harder for her expression to get more smug when they put in their two cents worth. But at F'reln's sudden reversal, Taikrin does almost the same: teeth clench, and a scowl darkens her features. "Yer gonna catch a flamin' ass-whoopin'!" she calls after his retreating back, heedless of how incriminating that might sound. Two abrupt steps back are taken, and then she whirls, beckoning to G'brion with frenetic energy. "Forget it, let's go! Hit me!" Glance flickers towards Silarra, with what might be the faintest traces of guilt, but she only nods, curtly, in acknowledgement.
"Oh," Gabe says to Silarra, and rolls his eyes hard. "Whatever. Next time he tries to start something, I should totally flirt with him and hit on him and all just to see what he does." Taikrin gets a grin when she beckons, and he whoops, then leaps at her, yelling, "Two on one!" and feinting an attempt to punch her - but the real attack is his foot that tries to sweep her leg out from under her.
Poor Meara. She looks torn between yelling at F'reln to come back, and just yelling at the weyrlings remaining; in the end, she does neither. At least the remaining three seem to be getting along! But, arms crossed, expression unreadable, her gaze remains curiously on Taikrin. Lucky Taikrin.
Silarra gives her cousin a quick, not entirely nice, smile. "You should. See what reaction you can get out of him." She's not joining the sparring yet though. She'll give Gabe a chance to take on Taikrin on his own before she joins in, on one side or the other.
Taikrin is, at least, quick on her feet when Gabrion comes at her, hopping neatly backwards to avoid the sweeping kick then pivoting around on one foot to push at Gabrion's shoulder with one hand. "Too slow!" There's something feral in her grin as she comes around, hopping lightly from foot to foot. "C'mon! Y'can do way better'n this!"
G'brion laughs and attacks again, this time trying to grab Taikrin's head, since her hair's too short to get hold of. Apparently he's gone from fist-fighting to wrestling all of a sudden.
Meara takes half a step back, and then-- "You lot break anything, don't come running to me." Evidently she's not /too/ concerned, though, since she turns her back to wander on over and check on some of the other weyrlings.
Taikrin was not, apparently, expecting G'brion to go grabbing at her head, because though she ducks and pivots again, it's not quite enough to avoid being grabbed. She stumbles backwards a pace, grappling with G'brion in an attempt to wrap her arms around his torso and /lift/. "Ugh, gerrof!"
Silarra turns over to Meara with a smirk. "Could we come crawling to you then? Because we'd be broken." That is definitely said with a snarky tone before she looks over to Gabe and Taikrin. "You could roll in the dirt like the dragons!" She calls with a mock cheerful tone. The sort Liniath might use, but Silarra likely wouldn't in reality.
Meara has left.
G'brion shrieks and grabs on tighter, kicking his legs uselessly in the air as Taikrin lifts him off the ground. "Silarra! Help!" he calls out frantically.
Taikrin lets out a racuous laugh as she lifts G'brion, spinning around a couple of times before she staggers a pace towards Silarra then releases in an attempt to fling cousin on cousin. "Y'want Silarra's help, go /get/ 'er!"
"WAUGH!" Gabe is not coordinated enough to catch himself midair. He flails and flies toward Silarra.
Silarra sees him coming and braces herself. "Gabe!" She calls, as if it's his fault. This all might work if she was bigger. As it is, even Gabe is big enough to knock the weyrling back, sending her down onto her bottom with an "oomph".
"Uh... gotcha?" Gabe says goofily, and then untangles himself from Silarra and stands up, laughing.
Taikrin continues to laugh, though somewhat breathlessly, as she rests hand on her knees and enjoys the chaos. "Cousin's oughta love each other!" Her amusement at herself is obvious, and the worst of that tension has receded for the moment. "Reckon yer growin' some, eh Gabe? Gettin' heavy!
Silarra seems fine just sitting on her rear on the ground. Gabe gets a look that's not so nice for a moment before she breaks out laughing as well. "But you were supposed to get /Taikrin/." Silarra points out before giving her cousin a look. "Why do you get to grow and I don't? Put on a couple inches since I got here." She states after Taikrin's question. It's true the short weyrling isn't growing any taller, though she is starting to sprout more curves.
G'brion looks positively wicked as he says the one thing he knows is guaranteed to piss Silarra off. "Oh, probably 'cause I'm the guy," he says, affecting a casual air. "You know, guys are generally taller than girls." He looks /really/ smug over those two inches he's got on Silarra, now.
Aleis heads in from the western bowl.
Aleis has arrived.
Those two inches G'brion has on Silarra? Taikrin still has 'em on Gabe, and she can be just as smug about it. Breath caught, she ambles over to ruffle G'brion's hair again. "Oh, I dunno. I'm taller'n more'n a few guys I was on work crew with, y'know. Sometimes guys stay short, 'specially if it's in their family." Look, she can taunt them all at once! She does, at least, offer a hand down to Silarra, though there's still a teasing smirk on her face. "Y'don't need t'be taller t'take 'em down, anyways. Can sit most any guy on his ass, even if he's taller an' heavier, y'know?"
Silarra is sitting on the ground looking up to the taller folk as well. "Being born with a penis does not make you more special." Silarra informs her cousin, sticking out her tongue before Taikrin gets a nod. "True. I took down that tall dude earlier. But being tall would make it /easier/."
G'brion laughs at Silarra. "Hey, at least I don't run around trying to prove how big mine is, like some people," he points out. He gives Taikrin a nod. "Sometimes, there's advantages to being short. You're less likely to get whacked in the face by low tree branches, for one."
It's not that Aleis is really supposed to be out here watching weyrlings because that's her job--well, no, okay, maybe it is sort of her job, but at the moment she's supposed to be on break. The assistants do get some of those. Still, she ends up in the bowl anyhow, as Galbreth lands, and then lingers watching from a distance for a few moments after she dismounts before she wanders in the direction of the weyrlings and whatever it is they're doing over here. "Being born with a what, now?" Maybe she only just caught part of that. Maybe she just wants to hear it again.
"You just gonna sit on yer ass all day?" Taikrin shakes the extended hand in Silarra's face. "Y'all're crazy, y'know that? Tree branches." She snorts, unimpressed. "Goin' on about penises, too. Yer obsessed. Don't make no difference." At Aleis' approach, Taikrin straightens, tension returning to the curve of her muscles. "Uh. Penises. Ma'am."
"Yeah! Penises," Gabe echoes, in case Aleis hasn't gotten the idea yet. Or maybe he just likes saying the word. He's grinning.
Silarra takes Taikrin's hand up with a smirk. "Maybe I like sitting on my ass. Could be really comfortable." She says snarkily, even as she's getting up. "Because some guys seem to think being born with a penis makes them something special. Instead of having something that's an easy target if they piss you off."
Brows escalate just slightly. "Riiight." Aleis draws the word out long, looks between the three of them, shakes her head. "Suppose that's true. I always thought it was something about compensating for having more embarrassing genitals. Never mind. It is, however, considered bad form to use that as a target, pissed off or not, at least as long as you're under our care." Faint smile.
"Unless it's F'reln's," Gabe says with a smirk. "I mean think about it: his is such a SMALL target that it's totally fair." He looks over at Taikrin, like he's hoping to make her laugh.
Taikrin heaves Silarra upwards then steps back, brushing hands against her pants. "Embarrassin' genitals, that's fer sure." A stare lingers on Aleis, though, and she offers skeptically, "Some guy comes at me? I'm sure as shells gonna aim f'r whatever's gonna take 'im down." Brows draw together, then, a burgeoning storm of disquiet at G'brion's comment. "F'reln comes after me? I ain't gonna take it. Y'all better make sure he leaves me alone or he's gonna be talkin' real high f'r a while."
Silarra brushes off her rear as she nods over to Aleis. "I'll try to avoid it. But if someone's hurting me or someone? Like Gabe. I might /have/ to." She's clearly protective of her now taller cousin. "Not sure I really see the point in trying to fight fair, if someone's already bigger and trying to do real damage to you."
The assistant clears her throat, crosses her arms. "None of you ought to be doing any of that stuff. Not right now. I don't care who's being a jerk or what. You tell us, you don't go beating on 'em yourselves, unless they've got you in some kind of corner. You've got a dragon. They can call, anytime." Very pointed, Aleis' words, but she finally shakes her head, shifts into a more casual pose. "Don't want any of you fighting, period, to be honest. Last thing I want is for us all to have survived the Pass just so one of you can get knifed or something."
G'brion is less than thrilled by this prospect, anyway, as he eyes Silarra. "You don't have to jump in every time I'm in an argument with someone, or whatever," he says bluntly. "It makes people think I'm a pussy. I /can/ take care of myself."
"Well, why're we playin' at this stuff then? Why'd we have th'Weyrwoman givin' those lessons, iffen we ain't s'pposed t'defend ourselves?" Taikrin folds her arms across her chest, not /quite/ belligerant, but treading a fine line nonetheless. "I ain't afraid of some jackass with a knife. Been knifed before. An' I got Szadath now, he's got my back too." The aformentioned brown is, of course, napping in the sun. Not just napping. EXTREME napping. Which, however, is still not very useful in a fight. Quietly, however, she adds to G'brion, "S'good t'take care of yerself. Better t'have a crew t'help you, though."
Silarra looks over to Gabe for a moment and shakes her head, rubbing rather pointedly at her nose before she's turning to look over to Aleis. "Hopefully I won't need to do any of that stuff now. Because hopefully everyone can refrain from being assholes and starting fights as busy as well are." She tucks her hands down on her hips and blinks. "I have something for you." And with that said, Silarra is turning to walk into the barracks.
"We would prefer," Aleis tells Taikrin, in a soft-gentle sort of voice that isn't the usual one she's known for, "not to have you get killed if someone forces the issue. You're supposed to be learning to defend yourselves, not so that you can render a young man sterile just because he's a jerk. There's a... fine line." She gestures. "I haven't had any use for it all myself since I was very young. But it's good for fitness purposes, too. Coordination. All that." A blink at Silarra, but then Silarra's walking off so she makes nothing of it.
G'brion is frustrated. "But if you..." he starts to say, only to throw his hands up as she walks off. "I /really/ wish she wouldn't keep doing that," he says to Taikrin with a sigh.
"You ain't been watchin' th'way he watches me. Creepy-like. He was always creepy-like, 'specially when he was watchin' over th'work gangs." Taikrin and the truth aren't often acquainted, though from the emotion behind her words /she/ seems to at least believe it. Well. Most of it. "Who guards th'guards, y'know? An' he's been makin' threats. Gabe an' Silarra an' half th'class heard 'im!" Strident tones rise indignantly at the last, and Taikrin is the picture of hurt innocence. "Right Gabe? He was pickin' on 'im, too, an' he made whats'er'face, that greenrider, cry. Didn't he?"
G'brion nods - he did see that much. "I don't think he meant to make Elsan cry," he allows, "but he was being a giant tool to Taikrin."
A long sigh. "This is when you tell someone in authority. And we..." Pause. Aleis goes silent, rubs her forehead with the heel of her hand, looks suddenly very tired. "Deal with it. Somehow. Anyway, you're all going to be fine. I'm sure you're working very hard and, er, something." She shakes her head, glancing around, eyeing the napping Szadath, looks back at G'brion and Taikrin. "There's always going to be tools. And creeps. That's just life."
"Well, me an' Gabe're tellin' you. Weyrlingmaster saw it too, I reckon." Taikrin nods, firmly, as if the matter were settled; she can't quite stop the satisfied smirk from creeping upwards, though. She follows Aleis' gaze to Szadath, where the brown is twitching wings in his sleep and making tiny little grunting noises, then gives a start. "Oh! While 'e's sleepin'! I promised 'im I'd ask-- when he's allowed t'fly. I told 'im he had t'get big enough, only now he wants t'know /how/ long exactly is big enough an' he wants me t'measure 'im like fifty times a day, an' I don't know what t'tell 'in anymore so can y'tell me so's he don't just get it in his head t'go runnin' off an' do it on his own?" The whole thing is said in one long, desperate breath complete with words tripping over each other, gaze occasionally cutting over to the brown as though he could wake up at /any moment/.
G'brion narrows his eyes and looks supremely grumpy, at Aleis' response, but he says nothing. He only glares at the ground while Taikrin babbles about Szadath wanting to fly.
X'en heads in from the weyrling area.
X'en has arrived.
Balyeroth has arrived.
"The wey--" Aleis cuts herself off, frowns, shakes her head. "It'll be dealt with," she says vaguely to Taikrin. Then, after Taikrin's extremely long question, "We'll be starting gliding in... a sevenday or so, perhaps? Two, maybe? It's not so much size as muscle strength. Szadath is doing extremely well there, so I would imagine he should be at least near the beginning of those cleared. For gliding. Flying is something else entirely. That may be another month or so." A smile for G'brion. "And Pterath's doing well, too, isn't she? Reasonably."
Silarra makes her way back out of the barracks carrying what looks like a wine skin. She heads right for Aleis to offer it over. "Some Benden rider wanted me to give this to you. Liniath liked her brown. Guess he was entertaining." She states before blinking at the change in conversation. "Gliding? Will Liniath get to do that, too? She's all ansy to get off the ground."
G'brion opens his mouth and shuts it again, like a fish. "I... guess so?" he says to Aleis, trying to figure out how to interpret her comment.
"A sevenday," Taikrin repeats, slowly, as if tasting the words. "I think I can hold 'im off for a sevenday. Keep 'im doin' drills. He's gonna be a terror if he ain't in th'first group, I reckon." It's said more musingly to herself than anything else; it's not a threat. At least, not yet. "How's it work?" Gaze cuts towards Silarra, then G'brion. "'Cause they're all different sizes and muscles, like. Liniath an' Pterath're gonna get t'go too, right? Szad's been drivin' me nuts, wantin' t'get th'whole team out drillin' or somethin'. Dunno what he got into his head, but..."
"Some Benden rider?" Aleis takes the skin from Silarra with a big smile. "Presents from home. Imagine that. We always did get better--" By this point she's opened it up, gone to take a sip. She holds it up. Eyes it. "Who did you say brought this? Did you get a name?" Closing it up again, she nods to Taikrin. "I'm sure he'll be in the first group, long as he doesn't hurt himself in the meantime. Tell him he'd best be extra-careful until then." A wink. "It's more about muscle development than actual size. The blues, greens, they'll be going, too."
X'en is heading out of the barracks, followed by Balyeroth, who croons to his siblings, and perks up. << Gliding? We're gliding already? >> He asks, and gives his wings a flap for a moment. X'en waves to the Aleis, and the other weyrlings. "Hello." He greets, and then blinks at his blue. "Gliding? Did we miss gliding?"
"Are we supposed to be able to tell how developed their muscles are," Gabe asks Aleis, "or do you do that?" He shoots a brief grin at Taikrin. "Guess that's one way to get him to leave off pestering you. If he doesn't take it easy, he won't get to go."
Silarra looks over to Aleis and has to stop to think about it. "Um. It was something short. I think it started with V?" She eyes the skin for a second with a smirk. "And I swear that is exactly what was in it when she handed it to me." Which means the weyrling probably checked. "Liniath is pretty active. Bet she has well developed muscles.
Szadath twitches at Balyeroth's broadcast, wings fluttering again as he sprawls in his Extreme! Nap! but he doesn't quite waken. Not yet. "I'll tell 'im. Reckon it might help, keep 'im quiet some. 'Specially with th'huntin' and all. He's /real/ excited 'bout th' 'runnin' meats'. Best thing what ever happened t'him." X'en's arrival is marked with a wave, and she's quick to reassure, "'Parently not yet. Soon, though. Right?"
There's a shake of the head for X'en: "No, it's not for another sevenday at the earliest," Aleis informs him. "You won't *miss* gliding. If you're in the group, you will be there, believe me." She manages a smile, but only just barely. "We'll tell you when you're going. You all worry too much. As weyrlings, all you need to do is pay attention and work hard and follow the rules." This is probably something she's said before on other such occasions in the past couple months. But all of this fades into silence at Silarra's 'something short'. Slowly, "No. I mean, yes. I believe it is. Thank you, Silarra."
"I'm not worried," Gabe mutters, defensively. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and looks at the ground, again.
X'en looks relieved that he didn't miss any of it. Balyeroth hugffs, and sits back on his haunches though in disappointment. << No gliding, but we get to hunt the meat that moves before that, right? Mine says it'll be much better than anything we've had so far. >> Oh yes, there's anticipation in his voice. "I'm not worried, ma'am, just don't want to miss anything." He chuckles, and pats his blues shoulder a moment. "When do they start hunting in the pens?" He asks Aleis. "And Balyeroth's pretty active too." He says, with a grin.
Silarra gives Aleis a curiously look. "Why would someone go to all the trouble to bring you water all the way from Benden? I mean, we don't live in a desert here or something?" Silarra points out dryly. She's apparently finished with the gliding comments, though Liniath does get a look, where the green is stretched out in her own rather more sedate nap in the sun.
Taikrin nudges her shoulder against G'brion, her voice low. "Pterath's been doin' her exercises okay, right? I'm sure she's gonna be ready, huh?" With more volume, she continues, "/Some/ of us got t'worry, 'cause /some/ people're out t'get us." It's possible she's taking these protestations of innocence a bit far today. "Just want t'make sure Szadath gets th'best, y'know? 'Cause he deserves th'best I can give 'im."
"She's... strange." It's lame and Aleis appears to know this, regarding the skin again with some strange mix of pleasure and apprehension on her face. To Taikrin, she waves her free hand in sort of a shooing gesture. "He'll be fine. They all have to fly at some point. You're not all going to be living in the barracks forever, believe me. We'd get sick of you." Big smile, though. It's meant to be reassuring. Then another look at the skin of... water. "I think I'd best... go put this away. Take care, all of you."
"Yeah, she does good," G'brion says, smiling with that prideful look that so many of the weyrlings still get, talking about their dragons. "Be fine, if she doesn't strain herself at first. She gets kind of enthusiastic." He glances up as Aleis announces her departure. "Someone sent you /water/ for a present?" Yes, he's a little behind, here.
X'en blinks. "Wait, somebody sent you water?" He asks in confusion, eyeing the skin now. "Strange present.." He comments, and chuckles. "Oh come on, the barracks are nice." He teases her, and blinks at Taikrin. "Who's out to get you?" He asks her.
Silarra shrugs over to Gabe. "Don't think that's the best present, but maybe if you're /really/ thirsty?" She turns to eye Liniath for a second before she states, "I'm going to go take a bath and grab some dinner. I'll see all of you later, I'm sure." She'll even take enough time to wave before she's heading off.
"All kinds'a people get all kinds'a presents and it ain't nobody's business but theirs!" Taikrin is oddly defensive about this talk of water flasks and presents, even moreso than can be attributed to X'en's question. "F'reln for one! He been at you too, Xeo? Or he just like pickin' on girls an' people smaller'n him?" Silarra's departure earns a distracted wave, but not much else because she's too busy eyeing Aleis again. "Glad t'hear we all gonna be equal-like, ma'am. 'Cause we are, right? Equal?"
The assistant weyrlingmaster looks down at her gift again, this time there's more than a little smile there. "Taste of home, I guess." Then the smile vanishes as Aleis looks up again. "Yes, Taikrin," very serious. "You are." Then, lighter, "Anyway. Yes. You all should get some supper before long, and I've got things to do. Take care. No fighting!" And on that cheery note, she goes back to Galbreth, and heads off for parts unknown. Probably home.
"Supper," Gabe repeats. "That's a good idea. I'm hungry. Are you hungry, Taikrin?" He looks at her, and glances briefly at X'en, but it's Taikrin's answer he's most interested in.
X'en ohs. "Right, F'reln, yes, he's been on me too, I swear that he wants ta know everythin' I do everybday." He rolls his eyes, and waves to Aleis, and Silarra. "See ya guys later." He says, and then grins. "Actually I was headin' ta dinner when I saw ya guys." He remarks. "See ya in the living cavern." He says, and starts across the bowl.
Aleis has left.
Taikrin shoots another look at Szadath rather than answer right away, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Finally, though, she admits, "Yeah, actually, reckon I am. Hungry." Moderately reassured by Aleis, she offers a nod as the weyrlingmaster leaves, then nudges into G'brion again. "Gotta keep you fed an' growin', anyways." A tentative grin is ventured, but only after Aleis has left earshot. "Otherwise, how else y'gonna help me beat in that dimglow's skull, huh? Reckon he deserves it, eh Xeo?"
"I can't believe she was being like that," Gabe says indignantly to Taikrin, as soon as Aleis is out of earshot. "She was all 'You should tell us' and then 'but get over it because people are tools anyway' - like, he was /threatening/ you, how can they expect you not to defend yourself, if they're not going to do anything about it?" he demands, scowling.
X'en nods to Taikrin, stopping in his tracks. "Aye, he deserves it, if ya wanna take a shot at him, I'll help." He says. "Atleast them weyrlings that were annoyed at us got over it, and accepted it." He says. Balyeroth settles down to rest just infront of the barracks, wings settled easily back, and tail curled aabout him. He's sitting regally, or about as regal as a blue can get. "Aye, they seem ta expect us ta take care of ourselves, and our dragons, so we can certainly defend ourselves."
Taikrin shakes her head slowly, the grin fading somewhat. "Well, she can say whatever she wants. If he comes after me, I'm gonna be ready for 'im. Easy as that. I ain't easy meat for some jumped up ex-guard wants t'get his rocks off." A shudder runs through her frame, and then she's waving a hand dismissively and heading towards the living cavern. "C'mon, Szad's gonna want t'go hunt his meat when he wakes up an' I mean t'have a full belly when I take 'im. We'll deal with asshat if it comes to it." She pauses, then, and flashes a quirky smile at the two. "Glad t'have y'all at my back, though."
"We're /friends/," Gabe says firmly as he follows along after Taikrin, toward the living cavern. A glance over his shoulder assures him that Pterath is sprawled happily on the ground, nose to nose with one of the other greens, probably having a deep conversation about something or other.
X'en snorts, and nods. "Hey, we ex-con's gotta stick together." He says. "Specially when there's only two of us." He adds. "And we're friends too." He adds in agreement, and glances at Balyeroth, before he heads for the caverns. "Oh yes, best to be full for it." He agrees.
NorCon MUSH - 4/11/2010
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Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
Ringed by rough granite walls to all sides but one, this end of the huge bowl narrows from the even broader plain to the west, continuing the ever so slight downward slope toward the blue and green of the Weyr's lake and surrounding foliage. More open to sun and wind than the western bowl, but less frequented when there aren't weyrlings in residence, the bowl's grassy tufts keep the topsoil in place and thicken into a bloodstained meadow within the feeding pens that adjoin the lake.
At the base of the surrounding cliffs lie entrances to several caverns, including the dragon infirmary and the weyrling barracks: the former to the northwest near where the spires begin, the latter opposite to the southwest. Both archways are large and dark enough for any dragon to pass through, but it's the infirmary's that is haunted by faint smells of redwort and numbweed, as though over generations they have seeped into the very stone.
Towards the south-eastern end of the bowl, a large area has been cordoned off with heavy ropes. The bowl wall has mostly been covered by enormous lengths of oiled cloth, hiding damage left in the wake of the meteor and eye rock, which fell here.
The sun is high in the sky and there is not a cloud in sight. There's a breeze that tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air.
Obvious exits:
Guest Weyr Dragon Infirmary Weyrling Area Feeding Grounds Lake Shore West Bowl
It is a summer afternoon, 16:08 of day 14, month 6, turn 22 of Interval 10.
Meara heads in from the western bowl.
Meara has arrived.
G'brion has arrived.
Pterath has arrived.
By this point in the afternoon, lessons are supposed to be completed for the day, and perhaps, officially, they have been, but an assemblage of weyrlings - and Meara - remain in the bowl anyway. What was an attempt by F'reln to teach holdbred Elsan how to defend herself has turned into unofficial self-defense practice, developing the skills the Weyrwoman taught in earlier classes, last month. Meara wanders between pairs, keeping an eye out for problems, her eyes shaded from the late afternoon glare with one of her hands.
Silarra heads in from the weyrling area.
Silarra has arrived.
Liniath has arrived.
Paired up with Taikrin, G'brion falls back after they've completed one of the exercises to catch his breath. He grins at her; exercise puts him in a good mood. "Can we try that thing where you try to punch me and I duck out of the way?" he asks her.
Taikrin has been, well, not the best team player in this little impromptu event, which might have something to do with her well-proven prowess in the earlier lessons, but probably has /more/ to do with the animosity between herself and F'reln. Only half her attention is on G'brion: the other is fixed on the former guard and, in between blocking blows she's been muttering snarky comments to G'brion. Such as, "Think y'could fit a whole dragon in th'openings that idiot's leaving." She's barely breathing hard, and obviously enjoying herself to judge from the grin she shoots back at G'brion. "Yeah, sure. Ready?" And with no more than a wink she's throwing a right hook at the side of G'brion's head. He better duck fast!
Silarra has been paired up with a tall, rather gangly boy. There's a brighter than normal smile on her face as she manages to use one of the throws to toss the bigger guy to the ground. "Whoa! I wish you could have seen yourself fly!" She notes with a snarky undertone before adding. "You okay?" Even as the man is standing back up.
G'brion is more used to having time to get all set up in a defensive stance, so Taikrin's sudden move takes him by surprise, and she wallops him upside the head before he has time to react. Stunned, he staggers backward and sits down hard. "Owwwwww! Shardit, I wasn't ready," he complains, shaking his head to clear the ringing. "You have to give me more time than /that/." Because as G'brion knows so well, people who are about to sucker punch you totally give you a good ten seconds' warning to get ready, first.
If F'reln is aware of Taikrin's commentary, he's not showing it: actually, he's being quite a patient teacher for poor Elsan, who has yet to actually connect one of her flailing blows with any part of him. Meara pauses to watch the pair for a moment, but her only response is an approving nod as, once again, the brown weyrling attempts to explain things; moving on, she ends up in front of Silarra and her partner. "Nicely done, Silarra," says the Weyrlingmaster. "But let's be nice about it, mmm?"
"Gabe!" Taikrin's first reaction is contrition, though as it becomes apparent that the green weyrling isn't actually hurt, it's replaced by a lopsided grin. "Aw, c'mon. I taught you better'n that! Yer makin' me look bad f'r Guardface over there!" The few steps separating them are closed in a quick motion, and a hand offered. "Y'/know/ nobody's gonna give y'time t'get ready."
Silarra glances over to Meara with a look that rather clearly shows that the Weyrlingmaster is ruining all her fun. "But if I wasn't being nice about it, I would have followed it with a kick or a blow while he was down." Silarra points out, probably making her partner feel /so/ much better about this.
"And if you were being /actually/ nice, you wouldn't try to rub it in at all. This is /practice/, Silarra. We're aiming to improve our skills, not make people feel bad." But Meara doesn't sound /too/ concerned, even if the smile she aims at Silarra's partner is apologetic and encouraging. "Try it again?"
G'brion takes Taikrin's hand to pull himself to his feet. "Well - yeah, but - I just didn't think you were gonna be that /fast/," he says ruefully, and rubs at the side of his head. "Well, at least you didn't get me on the nose, huh?" He grins at her. The byplay between Silarra and her partner isn't lost on him; he glances over, and then says to Taikrin, "Remind me not to get in a fistfight with Silarra. Well, or you. But especially not Silarra."
Meanwhile, Elsan seems to have enough, and backs away from F'reln teary-eyed: she can't do it, it's not fair to make her! With one of the other girls chasing her escape back to the barracks, F'reln is left free to wander across and watch Taikrin and Gabe. "Want some proper lessons, G'brion?" he wants to know. "Clean fighting. Can't trust /her/." Taikrin. And maybe Silarra, too, for that matter.
Silarra must hear that because she turns to give Gabe a smile that's rather satisfied. "I could take you down with one hand behind my back!" She calls over to Gabe before she's looking back over to Meara considering it. "Can't I just leave it to Liniath to be nice? She cares about that stuff." But then she'll turn back to her partner. "Ready when you are." If he's not ready to run away by now.
Taikrin gives a faint grunt as she hauls back on her hand to give G'brion a firmer hand up. "Yeah, well, y'gotta be fast or yer gonna get flattened, ain'tcha?" She follows G'brion's glance to Silarra, and does nothing but shrug as she settles herself back into a fighting stance once again. "Girl ain't bad, but she ain't so good as she thinks, neither. Gonna get her ass beat, carryin' on like that." And then F'reln's there, making comments, and Taikrin reacts rather like a cat facing a strange dog. "Can trust me not t'teach 'im how t'leave himself open a mile wide, that's f'r bloody sure. Don't leave /my/ partners cryin', neither." So she didn't miss that little act, either. Her grin becomes downright nasty, then, as she throws a feinting physical jab at Gabe to match the verbal one to the brown weyrling, "But I guess that's how y'like 'em? Cryin'?"
Still laughing at Silarra's comment, Gabe spins out of the way of Taikrin's jab easily, and comes to rest facing F'reln. Being small, he's fairly light on his feet. "Sounds like a personal problem you got there," he says snidely to F'reln. "I trust Taikrin just fine. Come on." Fists up, he stands ready to meet the other boy's attack, with a glint of determination in his eye that wasn't there when he was sparring Taikrin.
"And so should you," says Meara, firmly, to Silarra. Probably, she intends to wait and make sure this fight continues clean, but a chance turn of the head has her catching F'reln's approach towards the other two, and her gaze narrows. "Clean, Silarra," she reminds, and then she half turns to watch, teeth resting just barely on her lower lip. Apparently, Silarra's not the only one who might need reminding to be nice, today.
"Like to see you do better," says F'reln, snide and dismissive of Taikrin's remarks. One of his hands has gone to his hip, the other swings loosely at his side. His sigh is long-suffering: "Put your fists down, G'brion. I'm not going to fight you if you're going to be like that. Don't got the time to waste on that."
"Even I could probably not make her cry! Unless I really wanted to!" Silarra calls over to F'reln before she's turning back to gangly boy. "Let's go." And this time, it's not right into tossing him, moving instead to practice blocking the taller guy's punches. It's mostly clean at least.
Taikrin snorts derisively at F'reln, sidestepping to stand nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with G'brion, reaching out to ruffle his hair distractedly. "Taught a whole set of 'em how back when you was still playin' house with all our good friends in th'caves. Gabe, Silarra, Shad, coupl'a others. An' let me see..." A finger taps thoughtfully at her lips. "Reckon I didn't make any of 'em cry too much, /an'/ I had a broken arm. So." Lips quirk devilishly. "Reckon that makes me better'n you all around. 'Less you want t'prove it some other way, like?"
"Oh, but you have time to come over and be a jerk to Taikrin," Gabe says, his voice heavy with sarcasm. He lowers his fists, but doesn't drop his guard altogether. Of course Taikrin can speak for herself, and Gabe will let her, though he does add in an aside afterward, "He's probably just moody 'cause he's on his cycle, it'll be better in a couple of days." To F'reln, much too sweetly: "You know they have tea for that, right?"
By this point, most of the remaining weyrlings have come to a halt to watch the exchange between Taikrin and G'brion, and F'reln. The male, brownriding weyrling's gaze narrows, but that's the only visible sign that his calm has been interrupted by the insults sent his way. At first, anyway; after a few moments, his lip curls, "Would stay quiet if I were you, pillow-biter. And as for /you/..." He turns his attention back to Taikrin. "I'm watching you. Don't think I'm not. /One/ slip, and I'll have you /gone/."
Meara manages to keep half an eye on Silarra's fight, but, well, there are perhaps more worrying things to keep an eye of, though for now, she doesn't intervene.
Silarra ends the fight with her partner, throwing him to the ground once again, with exactly the same move she's used the first time. This time, there's no snarky comment to him. Instead the short weyrling is stalking over to F'reln, ignoring her fallen partner altogether. Apparently she was listening as she was sparring. "Don't you /dare/ insult my cousin like some holdbound idiot. Or Taikrin." Though the second comes almost as an afterthought.
"Yeah, you keep on watchin'. Better get used t'enjoyin' th'view, 'cause I reckon you an' Rhabarith're gonna be seein' a whole lotta our backside, way /you/ been goin'." Taikrin's posture remains fighting-ready, her smirk confident, but there's a certain line of tension that runs through her frame. "An' what, or else yer gonna try t'make /him/ cry? Big man like you, gotta pick on a boy like 'im?"
"What the shell is a pillow-biter?" G'brion asks, nonplussed. He hasn't heard that one before. When Silarra comes over, he looks around and sees all the weyrlings staring, and realizes things are starting to get out of hand. "Alright, alright. Look, shit-for-brains," yes, this is his idea of de-escalating things, "everybody here knows that what happens to /her/," he jerks a thumb at Taikrin, "is not up to /you/. So. Are we gonna spar, or are you gonna keep mewling about what a tiny dick you have?"
Meara takes a step forward as /more/ weyrlings get involved, but before she can open her mouth, F'reln does. He's guard trained; that means he's trained to notice things, and that is almost certainly why he suddenly looks /so/ smug: he's noticed that tension in Taikrin, oh yes. "Going to catch you," he tells her, serious, as if the insults never got said, as if there's no one else there. "Oh yes. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I will. My apologies, Weyrlingmaster," he adds, turning abruptly on his heel to face Meara. "If you'll excuse me." And he's off. /Whistling/.
"It's a rude thing to call someone who's gay. Heard an asshole taunting someone when we were travelling using it. Punched him in the face." Silarra informs her cousin. Even if she might not really know enough about sex to know /why/ that term might work. F'reln gets a flat out glare at his back as he walks off. "He tries something, you know we'll support you, right?" Silarra adds over to Taikrin.
Taikrin's confidence is bolstered by Silarra and G'brion's arrival, and it would be harder for her expression to get more smug when they put in their two cents worth. But at F'reln's sudden reversal, Taikrin does almost the same: teeth clench, and a scowl darkens her features. "Yer gonna catch a flamin' ass-whoopin'!" she calls after his retreating back, heedless of how incriminating that might sound. Two abrupt steps back are taken, and then she whirls, beckoning to G'brion with frenetic energy. "Forget it, let's go! Hit me!" Glance flickers towards Silarra, with what might be the faintest traces of guilt, but she only nods, curtly, in acknowledgement.
"Oh," Gabe says to Silarra, and rolls his eyes hard. "Whatever. Next time he tries to start something, I should totally flirt with him and hit on him and all just to see what he does." Taikrin gets a grin when she beckons, and he whoops, then leaps at her, yelling, "Two on one!" and feinting an attempt to punch her - but the real attack is his foot that tries to sweep her leg out from under her.
Poor Meara. She looks torn between yelling at F'reln to come back, and just yelling at the weyrlings remaining; in the end, she does neither. At least the remaining three seem to be getting along! But, arms crossed, expression unreadable, her gaze remains curiously on Taikrin. Lucky Taikrin.
Silarra gives her cousin a quick, not entirely nice, smile. "You should. See what reaction you can get out of him." She's not joining the sparring yet though. She'll give Gabe a chance to take on Taikrin on his own before she joins in, on one side or the other.
Taikrin is, at least, quick on her feet when Gabrion comes at her, hopping neatly backwards to avoid the sweeping kick then pivoting around on one foot to push at Gabrion's shoulder with one hand. "Too slow!" There's something feral in her grin as she comes around, hopping lightly from foot to foot. "C'mon! Y'can do way better'n this!"
G'brion laughs and attacks again, this time trying to grab Taikrin's head, since her hair's too short to get hold of. Apparently he's gone from fist-fighting to wrestling all of a sudden.
Meara takes half a step back, and then-- "You lot break anything, don't come running to me." Evidently she's not /too/ concerned, though, since she turns her back to wander on over and check on some of the other weyrlings.
Taikrin was not, apparently, expecting G'brion to go grabbing at her head, because though she ducks and pivots again, it's not quite enough to avoid being grabbed. She stumbles backwards a pace, grappling with G'brion in an attempt to wrap her arms around his torso and /lift/. "Ugh, gerrof!"
Silarra turns over to Meara with a smirk. "Could we come crawling to you then? Because we'd be broken." That is definitely said with a snarky tone before she looks over to Gabe and Taikrin. "You could roll in the dirt like the dragons!" She calls with a mock cheerful tone. The sort Liniath might use, but Silarra likely wouldn't in reality.
Meara has left.
G'brion shrieks and grabs on tighter, kicking his legs uselessly in the air as Taikrin lifts him off the ground. "Silarra! Help!" he calls out frantically.
Taikrin lets out a racuous laugh as she lifts G'brion, spinning around a couple of times before she staggers a pace towards Silarra then releases in an attempt to fling cousin on cousin. "Y'want Silarra's help, go /get/ 'er!"
"WAUGH!" Gabe is not coordinated enough to catch himself midair. He flails and flies toward Silarra.
Silarra sees him coming and braces herself. "Gabe!" She calls, as if it's his fault. This all might work if she was bigger. As it is, even Gabe is big enough to knock the weyrling back, sending her down onto her bottom with an "oomph".
"Uh... gotcha?" Gabe says goofily, and then untangles himself from Silarra and stands up, laughing.
Taikrin continues to laugh, though somewhat breathlessly, as she rests hand on her knees and enjoys the chaos. "Cousin's oughta love each other!" Her amusement at herself is obvious, and the worst of that tension has receded for the moment. "Reckon yer growin' some, eh Gabe? Gettin' heavy!
Silarra seems fine just sitting on her rear on the ground. Gabe gets a look that's not so nice for a moment before she breaks out laughing as well. "But you were supposed to get /Taikrin/." Silarra points out before giving her cousin a look. "Why do you get to grow and I don't? Put on a couple inches since I got here." She states after Taikrin's question. It's true the short weyrling isn't growing any taller, though she is starting to sprout more curves.
G'brion looks positively wicked as he says the one thing he knows is guaranteed to piss Silarra off. "Oh, probably 'cause I'm the guy," he says, affecting a casual air. "You know, guys are generally taller than girls." He looks /really/ smug over those two inches he's got on Silarra, now.
Aleis heads in from the western bowl.
Aleis has arrived.
Those two inches G'brion has on Silarra? Taikrin still has 'em on Gabe, and she can be just as smug about it. Breath caught, she ambles over to ruffle G'brion's hair again. "Oh, I dunno. I'm taller'n more'n a few guys I was on work crew with, y'know. Sometimes guys stay short, 'specially if it's in their family." Look, she can taunt them all at once! She does, at least, offer a hand down to Silarra, though there's still a teasing smirk on her face. "Y'don't need t'be taller t'take 'em down, anyways. Can sit most any guy on his ass, even if he's taller an' heavier, y'know?"
Silarra is sitting on the ground looking up to the taller folk as well. "Being born with a penis does not make you more special." Silarra informs her cousin, sticking out her tongue before Taikrin gets a nod. "True. I took down that tall dude earlier. But being tall would make it /easier/."
G'brion laughs at Silarra. "Hey, at least I don't run around trying to prove how big mine is, like some people," he points out. He gives Taikrin a nod. "Sometimes, there's advantages to being short. You're less likely to get whacked in the face by low tree branches, for one."
It's not that Aleis is really supposed to be out here watching weyrlings because that's her job--well, no, okay, maybe it is sort of her job, but at the moment she's supposed to be on break. The assistants do get some of those. Still, she ends up in the bowl anyhow, as Galbreth lands, and then lingers watching from a distance for a few moments after she dismounts before she wanders in the direction of the weyrlings and whatever it is they're doing over here. "Being born with a what, now?" Maybe she only just caught part of that. Maybe she just wants to hear it again.
"You just gonna sit on yer ass all day?" Taikrin shakes the extended hand in Silarra's face. "Y'all're crazy, y'know that? Tree branches." She snorts, unimpressed. "Goin' on about penises, too. Yer obsessed. Don't make no difference." At Aleis' approach, Taikrin straightens, tension returning to the curve of her muscles. "Uh. Penises. Ma'am."
"Yeah! Penises," Gabe echoes, in case Aleis hasn't gotten the idea yet. Or maybe he just likes saying the word. He's grinning.
Silarra takes Taikrin's hand up with a smirk. "Maybe I like sitting on my ass. Could be really comfortable." She says snarkily, even as she's getting up. "Because some guys seem to think being born with a penis makes them something special. Instead of having something that's an easy target if they piss you off."
Brows escalate just slightly. "Riiight." Aleis draws the word out long, looks between the three of them, shakes her head. "Suppose that's true. I always thought it was something about compensating for having more embarrassing genitals. Never mind. It is, however, considered bad form to use that as a target, pissed off or not, at least as long as you're under our care." Faint smile.
"Unless it's F'reln's," Gabe says with a smirk. "I mean think about it: his is such a SMALL target that it's totally fair." He looks over at Taikrin, like he's hoping to make her laugh.
Taikrin heaves Silarra upwards then steps back, brushing hands against her pants. "Embarrassin' genitals, that's fer sure." A stare lingers on Aleis, though, and she offers skeptically, "Some guy comes at me? I'm sure as shells gonna aim f'r whatever's gonna take 'im down." Brows draw together, then, a burgeoning storm of disquiet at G'brion's comment. "F'reln comes after me? I ain't gonna take it. Y'all better make sure he leaves me alone or he's gonna be talkin' real high f'r a while."
Silarra brushes off her rear as she nods over to Aleis. "I'll try to avoid it. But if someone's hurting me or someone? Like Gabe. I might /have/ to." She's clearly protective of her now taller cousin. "Not sure I really see the point in trying to fight fair, if someone's already bigger and trying to do real damage to you."
The assistant clears her throat, crosses her arms. "None of you ought to be doing any of that stuff. Not right now. I don't care who's being a jerk or what. You tell us, you don't go beating on 'em yourselves, unless they've got you in some kind of corner. You've got a dragon. They can call, anytime." Very pointed, Aleis' words, but she finally shakes her head, shifts into a more casual pose. "Don't want any of you fighting, period, to be honest. Last thing I want is for us all to have survived the Pass just so one of you can get knifed or something."
G'brion is less than thrilled by this prospect, anyway, as he eyes Silarra. "You don't have to jump in every time I'm in an argument with someone, or whatever," he says bluntly. "It makes people think I'm a pussy. I /can/ take care of myself."
"Well, why're we playin' at this stuff then? Why'd we have th'Weyrwoman givin' those lessons, iffen we ain't s'pposed t'defend ourselves?" Taikrin folds her arms across her chest, not /quite/ belligerant, but treading a fine line nonetheless. "I ain't afraid of some jackass with a knife. Been knifed before. An' I got Szadath now, he's got my back too." The aformentioned brown is, of course, napping in the sun. Not just napping. EXTREME napping. Which, however, is still not very useful in a fight. Quietly, however, she adds to G'brion, "S'good t'take care of yerself. Better t'have a crew t'help you, though."
Silarra looks over to Gabe for a moment and shakes her head, rubbing rather pointedly at her nose before she's turning to look over to Aleis. "Hopefully I won't need to do any of that stuff now. Because hopefully everyone can refrain from being assholes and starting fights as busy as well are." She tucks her hands down on her hips and blinks. "I have something for you." And with that said, Silarra is turning to walk into the barracks.
"We would prefer," Aleis tells Taikrin, in a soft-gentle sort of voice that isn't the usual one she's known for, "not to have you get killed if someone forces the issue. You're supposed to be learning to defend yourselves, not so that you can render a young man sterile just because he's a jerk. There's a... fine line." She gestures. "I haven't had any use for it all myself since I was very young. But it's good for fitness purposes, too. Coordination. All that." A blink at Silarra, but then Silarra's walking off so she makes nothing of it.
G'brion is frustrated. "But if you..." he starts to say, only to throw his hands up as she walks off. "I /really/ wish she wouldn't keep doing that," he says to Taikrin with a sigh.
"You ain't been watchin' th'way he watches me. Creepy-like. He was always creepy-like, 'specially when he was watchin' over th'work gangs." Taikrin and the truth aren't often acquainted, though from the emotion behind her words /she/ seems to at least believe it. Well. Most of it. "Who guards th'guards, y'know? An' he's been makin' threats. Gabe an' Silarra an' half th'class heard 'im!" Strident tones rise indignantly at the last, and Taikrin is the picture of hurt innocence. "Right Gabe? He was pickin' on 'im, too, an' he made whats'er'face, that greenrider, cry. Didn't he?"
G'brion nods - he did see that much. "I don't think he meant to make Elsan cry," he allows, "but he was being a giant tool to Taikrin."
A long sigh. "This is when you tell someone in authority. And we..." Pause. Aleis goes silent, rubs her forehead with the heel of her hand, looks suddenly very tired. "Deal with it. Somehow. Anyway, you're all going to be fine. I'm sure you're working very hard and, er, something." She shakes her head, glancing around, eyeing the napping Szadath, looks back at G'brion and Taikrin. "There's always going to be tools. And creeps. That's just life."
"Well, me an' Gabe're tellin' you. Weyrlingmaster saw it too, I reckon." Taikrin nods, firmly, as if the matter were settled; she can't quite stop the satisfied smirk from creeping upwards, though. She follows Aleis' gaze to Szadath, where the brown is twitching wings in his sleep and making tiny little grunting noises, then gives a start. "Oh! While 'e's sleepin'! I promised 'im I'd ask-- when he's allowed t'fly. I told 'im he had t'get big enough, only now he wants t'know /how/ long exactly is big enough an' he wants me t'measure 'im like fifty times a day, an' I don't know what t'tell 'in anymore so can y'tell me so's he don't just get it in his head t'go runnin' off an' do it on his own?" The whole thing is said in one long, desperate breath complete with words tripping over each other, gaze occasionally cutting over to the brown as though he could wake up at /any moment/.
G'brion narrows his eyes and looks supremely grumpy, at Aleis' response, but he says nothing. He only glares at the ground while Taikrin babbles about Szadath wanting to fly.
X'en heads in from the weyrling area.
X'en has arrived.
Balyeroth has arrived.
"The wey--" Aleis cuts herself off, frowns, shakes her head. "It'll be dealt with," she says vaguely to Taikrin. Then, after Taikrin's extremely long question, "We'll be starting gliding in... a sevenday or so, perhaps? Two, maybe? It's not so much size as muscle strength. Szadath is doing extremely well there, so I would imagine he should be at least near the beginning of those cleared. For gliding. Flying is something else entirely. That may be another month or so." A smile for G'brion. "And Pterath's doing well, too, isn't she? Reasonably."
Silarra makes her way back out of the barracks carrying what looks like a wine skin. She heads right for Aleis to offer it over. "Some Benden rider wanted me to give this to you. Liniath liked her brown. Guess he was entertaining." She states before blinking at the change in conversation. "Gliding? Will Liniath get to do that, too? She's all ansy to get off the ground."
G'brion opens his mouth and shuts it again, like a fish. "I... guess so?" he says to Aleis, trying to figure out how to interpret her comment.
"A sevenday," Taikrin repeats, slowly, as if tasting the words. "I think I can hold 'im off for a sevenday. Keep 'im doin' drills. He's gonna be a terror if he ain't in th'first group, I reckon." It's said more musingly to herself than anything else; it's not a threat. At least, not yet. "How's it work?" Gaze cuts towards Silarra, then G'brion. "'Cause they're all different sizes and muscles, like. Liniath an' Pterath're gonna get t'go too, right? Szad's been drivin' me nuts, wantin' t'get th'whole team out drillin' or somethin'. Dunno what he got into his head, but..."
"Some Benden rider?" Aleis takes the skin from Silarra with a big smile. "Presents from home. Imagine that. We always did get better--" By this point she's opened it up, gone to take a sip. She holds it up. Eyes it. "Who did you say brought this? Did you get a name?" Closing it up again, she nods to Taikrin. "I'm sure he'll be in the first group, long as he doesn't hurt himself in the meantime. Tell him he'd best be extra-careful until then." A wink. "It's more about muscle development than actual size. The blues, greens, they'll be going, too."
X'en is heading out of the barracks, followed by Balyeroth, who croons to his siblings, and perks up. << Gliding? We're gliding already? >> He asks, and gives his wings a flap for a moment. X'en waves to the Aleis, and the other weyrlings. "Hello." He greets, and then blinks at his blue. "Gliding? Did we miss gliding?"
"Are we supposed to be able to tell how developed their muscles are," Gabe asks Aleis, "or do you do that?" He shoots a brief grin at Taikrin. "Guess that's one way to get him to leave off pestering you. If he doesn't take it easy, he won't get to go."
Silarra looks over to Aleis and has to stop to think about it. "Um. It was something short. I think it started with V?" She eyes the skin for a second with a smirk. "And I swear that is exactly what was in it when she handed it to me." Which means the weyrling probably checked. "Liniath is pretty active. Bet she has well developed muscles.
Szadath twitches at Balyeroth's broadcast, wings fluttering again as he sprawls in his Extreme! Nap! but he doesn't quite waken. Not yet. "I'll tell 'im. Reckon it might help, keep 'im quiet some. 'Specially with th'huntin' and all. He's /real/ excited 'bout th' 'runnin' meats'. Best thing what ever happened t'him." X'en's arrival is marked with a wave, and she's quick to reassure, "'Parently not yet. Soon, though. Right?"
There's a shake of the head for X'en: "No, it's not for another sevenday at the earliest," Aleis informs him. "You won't *miss* gliding. If you're in the group, you will be there, believe me." She manages a smile, but only just barely. "We'll tell you when you're going. You all worry too much. As weyrlings, all you need to do is pay attention and work hard and follow the rules." This is probably something she's said before on other such occasions in the past couple months. But all of this fades into silence at Silarra's 'something short'. Slowly, "No. I mean, yes. I believe it is. Thank you, Silarra."
"I'm not worried," Gabe mutters, defensively. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and looks at the ground, again.
X'en looks relieved that he didn't miss any of it. Balyeroth hugffs, and sits back on his haunches though in disappointment. << No gliding, but we get to hunt the meat that moves before that, right? Mine says it'll be much better than anything we've had so far. >> Oh yes, there's anticipation in his voice. "I'm not worried, ma'am, just don't want to miss anything." He chuckles, and pats his blues shoulder a moment. "When do they start hunting in the pens?" He asks Aleis. "And Balyeroth's pretty active too." He says, with a grin.
Silarra gives Aleis a curiously look. "Why would someone go to all the trouble to bring you water all the way from Benden? I mean, we don't live in a desert here or something?" Silarra points out dryly. She's apparently finished with the gliding comments, though Liniath does get a look, where the green is stretched out in her own rather more sedate nap in the sun.
Taikrin nudges her shoulder against G'brion, her voice low. "Pterath's been doin' her exercises okay, right? I'm sure she's gonna be ready, huh?" With more volume, she continues, "/Some/ of us got t'worry, 'cause /some/ people're out t'get us." It's possible she's taking these protestations of innocence a bit far today. "Just want t'make sure Szadath gets th'best, y'know? 'Cause he deserves th'best I can give 'im."
"She's... strange." It's lame and Aleis appears to know this, regarding the skin again with some strange mix of pleasure and apprehension on her face. To Taikrin, she waves her free hand in sort of a shooing gesture. "He'll be fine. They all have to fly at some point. You're not all going to be living in the barracks forever, believe me. We'd get sick of you." Big smile, though. It's meant to be reassuring. Then another look at the skin of... water. "I think I'd best... go put this away. Take care, all of you."
"Yeah, she does good," G'brion says, smiling with that prideful look that so many of the weyrlings still get, talking about their dragons. "Be fine, if she doesn't strain herself at first. She gets kind of enthusiastic." He glances up as Aleis announces her departure. "Someone sent you /water/ for a present?" Yes, he's a little behind, here.
X'en blinks. "Wait, somebody sent you water?" He asks in confusion, eyeing the skin now. "Strange present.." He comments, and chuckles. "Oh come on, the barracks are nice." He teases her, and blinks at Taikrin. "Who's out to get you?" He asks her.
Silarra shrugs over to Gabe. "Don't think that's the best present, but maybe if you're /really/ thirsty?" She turns to eye Liniath for a second before she states, "I'm going to go take a bath and grab some dinner. I'll see all of you later, I'm sure." She'll even take enough time to wave before she's heading off.
"All kinds'a people get all kinds'a presents and it ain't nobody's business but theirs!" Taikrin is oddly defensive about this talk of water flasks and presents, even moreso than can be attributed to X'en's question. "F'reln for one! He been at you too, Xeo? Or he just like pickin' on girls an' people smaller'n him?" Silarra's departure earns a distracted wave, but not much else because she's too busy eyeing Aleis again. "Glad t'hear we all gonna be equal-like, ma'am. 'Cause we are, right? Equal?"
The assistant weyrlingmaster looks down at her gift again, this time there's more than a little smile there. "Taste of home, I guess." Then the smile vanishes as Aleis looks up again. "Yes, Taikrin," very serious. "You are." Then, lighter, "Anyway. Yes. You all should get some supper before long, and I've got things to do. Take care. No fighting!" And on that cheery note, she goes back to Galbreth, and heads off for parts unknown. Probably home.
"Supper," Gabe repeats. "That's a good idea. I'm hungry. Are you hungry, Taikrin?" He looks at her, and glances briefly at X'en, but it's Taikrin's answer he's most interested in.
X'en ohs. "Right, F'reln, yes, he's been on me too, I swear that he wants ta know everythin' I do everybday." He rolls his eyes, and waves to Aleis, and Silarra. "See ya guys later." He says, and then grins. "Actually I was headin' ta dinner when I saw ya guys." He remarks. "See ya in the living cavern." He says, and starts across the bowl.
Aleis has left.
Taikrin shoots another look at Szadath rather than answer right away, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Finally, though, she admits, "Yeah, actually, reckon I am. Hungry." Moderately reassured by Aleis, she offers a nod as the weyrlingmaster leaves, then nudges into G'brion again. "Gotta keep you fed an' growin', anyways." A tentative grin is ventured, but only after Aleis has left earshot. "Otherwise, how else y'gonna help me beat in that dimglow's skull, huh? Reckon he deserves it, eh Xeo?"
"I can't believe she was being like that," Gabe says indignantly to Taikrin, as soon as Aleis is out of earshot. "She was all 'You should tell us' and then 'but get over it because people are tools anyway' - like, he was /threatening/ you, how can they expect you not to defend yourself, if they're not going to do anything about it?" he demands, scowling.
X'en nods to Taikrin, stopping in his tracks. "Aye, he deserves it, if ya wanna take a shot at him, I'll help." He says. "Atleast them weyrlings that were annoyed at us got over it, and accepted it." He says. Balyeroth settles down to rest just infront of the barracks, wings settled easily back, and tail curled aabout him. He's sitting regally, or about as regal as a blue can get. "Aye, they seem ta expect us ta take care of ourselves, and our dragons, so we can certainly defend ourselves."
Taikrin shakes her head slowly, the grin fading somewhat. "Well, she can say whatever she wants. If he comes after me, I'm gonna be ready for 'im. Easy as that. I ain't easy meat for some jumped up ex-guard wants t'get his rocks off." A shudder runs through her frame, and then she's waving a hand dismissively and heading towards the living cavern. "C'mon, Szad's gonna want t'go hunt his meat when he wakes up an' I mean t'have a full belly when I take 'im. We'll deal with asshat if it comes to it." She pauses, then, and flashes a quirky smile at the two. "Glad t'have y'all at my back, though."
"We're /friends/," Gabe says firmly as he follows along after Taikrin, toward the living cavern. A glance over his shoulder assures him that Pterath is sprawled happily on the ground, nose to nose with one of the other greens, probably having a deep conversation about something or other.
X'en snorts, and nods. "Hey, we ex-con's gotta stick together." He says. "Specially when there's only two of us." He adds. "And we're friends too." He adds in agreement, and glances at Balyeroth, before he heads for the caverns. "Oh yes, best to be full for it." He agrees.