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Second Pass Weyr - AU Canon Pern

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Messages - B'jin

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1
Candidate Isle / Honey! I'm home!
« on: 18 Jan 2012 at 05:57 AM »
The soft, almost wispy pop that accompanied the appearance of a dragon from between was something that took time and practise to hear. Usually, one was simply in blackness, and then in light. B'jin, having been counting slowly in his mind, was prepared for the blinding midday light as his beloved green dragon appeared from the black void above the marooned island known only as Candidate Isle, and as such had his lids narrowed in preparation. It still hurt, but it wasn't as damaging as it could have been - he wasn't seeing stars.

"We're here," B'jin's voice was a soft murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the top of the wind. It was strong, up so high, but not terrible. It meant that down on the ground they would maybe have a light breeze, if anything. Clouds spotted an otherwise perfectly blue Spring sky, with the heat of a dawning summer beginning to penetrate; it would likely be a hot summer. Before him, B'jin's only view of the young man was his tight shoulders and hunched posture. His winter clothing would need to be shed before long and the temporary summer clothing offered by the Weyr at large for new arrivals would likely find a new home upon his back.

Larrikith, gliding silently, angled down toward the beach, where footprints were visible in the wavering line of sand. Whomever had left them, though, had vanished. B'jin, unsure of who currently resided on the Island, wasn't surprised. If they were new, they'd probably fled from the appearance of a dragon overhead, while those who had been present for a little longer were likely wise enough to remain indoors during the warmer hours. Katilan summers were nasty, and this was lining up to be a bad one.

At least the storms are not yet here. Larrikith's comment was heeded, but went without a response as the dragon shifted her posture and prepared for a landing. It was carefully done, with minimal bump and bustle, as she came to a rest just above the shore line, on the stubby, would-be coastal grasses. B'jin slapped her neck affectionately, and swung a leg over behind himself, in order to slide down without bustling the young man before him. He was still missing a few details about the kid, but figured they could sort them out now. He would need to, in order to fill out the required paper work.

"You can come down now, Talian." His name, at least, he remembered. Larrikith's snide comment went ignored and B'jin stood close by her side as he watched the young Healer slide down Larrikith's neck, ready to assist him if he tipped his balance in the wrong direction.

"Follow me, please. We just have some paperwork to fill out, and then I'll show you around." With the healer safely on the ground, and her rider preparing for the lengthy and, in her opinion, particularly boring portion of Searching, Larrikith stood up with a sinuous stretch and ambled towards the shore line. It was a hot day, and while she loved to get some sunshine, the water would be cool and refreshing - not yet heated up by a hot summer. B'jin watched her leave with amused affection before returning his brown eyed gaze upon the sullen healer. One hand rose to brush dark blonde hair out of his face - he'd be needing it cut again very soon.

"This, by the way, is Candidate Isle."

The island, from above, looked relatively large - and it was. It's base structure was a small mountain - or perhaps a large hill would be more accurate - that appeared to come directly up out of the lake. Easy to climb, and moderately forested with native plants it was habitable but inescapable. Watch riders and regular sweeps of the island - both on foot and in the sky - prevented the building of skips capable of escaping or those daring enough to try in what little was available to be created. Sea faring folk were rarely brought in, if only because they were harder to steal - they were also harder to maintain. From where Larrikith had dropped off her passengers, the hut that was the main living quarters of the Isle was easily spotted, as were the few sullen looking people who had appeared around the main entrance way to see the new arrival. Some few held smiles, but it was a common fact that there were fewer happy to arrive, than the were grumpy. B'jin grimaced.

They'll survive. Larrikith wasn't optimistic - she was being literal. They had no choice, and once they realised that, they would conform to their new living arrangements. B'jin's lips pursed. He had been amongst those that wanted to return to the North, and while he was content here, he missed his old life, his son, and what 'could have been'. It was moments such as this one, that brought down his usually exuberant personality for a more dour outlook that Nemall was more familiar with than the rest of the Katilan population.

Larrikith, barging into his mind, brought him back to the present. Finish with the child, so you can bathe me.

Why did people dream of Impressing, again?

Smile lighting up the man's face, lines were brought into life around his eyes and mouth, filling and dipping in areas that betrayed the expression to be a usual and common occurrence. He gave his attention back to Talian once more, and his eyes danced.

"I have orders! We must get this done so I can bathe my grumpy bonded." Childish grin still in place, B'jin just about skipped up to the hut, waving at another of his victims (this one much less sullen) and waited patiently at the door for Talian to catch up.


Wow. Upsy downsy much? I think between the story I'm reading, and our chat, I had some difficulty getting into B'jin's character o_o; My bad!
I expect he'll loosen up now he's got Talian where he can't escape Xd

2
Candidate Isle / Re: Honey! I'm home!
« on: 19 Jan 2012 at 04:57 AM »
Ridiculous child. Larrikith intoned, her tone somewhere between snide and disgusted as she cast a glance at the young healer. B'jin, raised his eyebrows, features taking on an expression of bewilderment. Larrikith opted to fill him in on her train of thought - When has a dragon ever tasted human flesh? She was definitely disgusted, now, and snorted disdainfully as she spread her wings under a few inches of cool salt water, mood dispelling as she sighed blissfully. B'jin laughed abruptly, the sound aimed at his dragon. As a result, he almost missed Talian's confused question.

He offered no explanation as he turned to look down at the healer, waiting as he was by the entrance into the hall. "Are you coming?" While the simple question could be taken as irritable, B'jin's placid nature and lyrical voice melted any such intone away from it and instead made it curious and quizzical. "You'll burn, you know, standing around like that. Katilan sun is nasty."

As his voice fell away, behind them in the water, Larrikith made a sound partway between a rumble and a croon as she allowed her legs to collapse under her and her mossy green body vanished under the rippling waves that coaxed the sandy shoreline. B'jin smiled serenely and waved his hand towards the doorway.

"Come! I don't bite! We have paper work to fill - well, I do anyway! And we need to get you settled in! Come inside, Talian and I'll explain everything to you! Promise!" Still grinning like a fool, B'jin opened the front door and stood back, looking expectantly at Talian.

"Well?"

B'jiin refused to answer any questions until the young man he'd spirited away was safely in the Office provided within - he'd tried explaining things to a sullen new candidate while out on the beach once before. It had not gone well, and as a result, he had taken to making sure they were indoors and safely seated in a comfortable chair with their back to a wall (that seemed to make them feel better, for the most part) before he'd answer any questions.

I could threaten to eat him, Larrikith put in, her head suddenly appearing above the water's surface and her eyes glowing an odd sparkle of colour as she teased. That'll make him move!

You are a horrible creature, and I love you.

Larrikith rumbled her approval, much more vocally than she would normally as she stood up in a fashionable display of wings, water and green glory.

3
Candidate Isle / Re: Honey! I'm home!
« on: 19 Jan 2012 at 06:51 AM »
B'jin watched the jumpy young man enter the small room that was optimistically labelled an 'office'. It had a heavy worked desk, a filing system against the far wall, and several heavy wooden chairs that were puffed up with stuffed pillows. It was more functional than comfortable, but no one had yet complained about the state of the cushions or the set up. B'jin could think of at least a dozen things he would prefer to do over paperwork, but at least he was good at it and had a tidy hand. Some of his fellow searchriders? Not so much.

"You can take a seat." His voice was cheerful, but toned down to suit the small confines of the room. The greenrider closed the door with a gentle click, and made his way over to the large desk with light steps that belied his height but were reasonable, considering his lithe and lightly moulded body. Twisting himself, B'jin sat himself regally in the seat behind the desk, and began shuffling around in one of the draws. After a few moments, he withdrew a sheet of carefully tended paper, an ink bottle and a quill. Dipping the tip neatly, he began to write across the top of the sheet. Were Talian to lean forward enough to view, he'd see that B'jin was writing the date, in a particular format, across the top.

"Okay, I need your birth date, if you please." B'jin lifted his chocolate eyes from the parchment to meet the gaze of the trembling healer, waiting patiently. He didn't offer any reasoning for why he needed the birthday of the young man. Instead, almost without waiting to hear the answer, he began requesting more information.

"I also need your place of birth, current holding, exact rank and," he looked up and frowned thoughtfully. "Take on being stolen, that would be negative." He scribbled that word down without waiting for Talian to give any opinion on that. With that done, he looked up expectantly and awaited the requested information. Paperwork was boring, but it was particularly useful. It was also something he was more than happy to leave to more important (and, as a result, generally boring) people.

Why every other little girl dreamed of 'riding' gold, when she would spend more time locked in a tiny room, B'jin had no idea.

4
Candidate Isle / Re: Honey! I'm home!
« on: 19 Jan 2012 at 06:11 PM »
B'jin ignored Talian's expression in favour of drawing a star in the far corner of the sheet of parchment. He had been scolded, before, for adding artistic little additions to the official records, but he didn't give two hoots. The Weyrleaders were quite happy to ignore all the introduction paperwork, and only deal with the new arrival when they were well and ready - if B'jin decided drawing on the silly parchment was the best way to handle a sully new candidate, than by the Red Star he would draw!
Besides, while his artistic skills were not on a level with his voice, they were at least more than acceptable. The single star had turned into a night scene, before he looked up at the end of Talian's spluttering response. An eyebrow arched, and he almost smiled (but somehow managed not to) at the boy's grumbling.

"Right!" The dragonrider scribbled down the year, leaving a space for the added exact date when it could be pried out of the healer. B'jin wasn't particularly good at getting the exacts, but his candidates were usually useful and fit in well enough that he was excused. Pre-plague Larrikith had had a good track record for candidates that Impressed. He had yet to see if she was as good post-plague. Circumstances had refused their allowance to Search for the Renewed Hope clutch.

Probably because your strongest desire was to run home, not bring in more people.

Granted B'jin replied, not at all ashamed, as he copied down Fort Hold and then blinked at Talian when he offered no such current hold. Shrugging, B'jin wrote down 'Journeying', feeling slightly happy about that. After all, those that were bounding between holds were the least likely to be miss-

B'jin's thought cut off abruptly, and outside, Larrikith let out a sound that was suspiciously similar to a strangled feline. Raising his gaze from the parchment, the greenrider's warm brown eyes were wide and almost popping while his face - usually a healthy tan - had quickly faded to a sickly shade of grey.

"..." He silently picked up the knots, eyes still wide, and looked vaguely sick as he examined them. Apparently, he was hoping to find some fault with them that would mark them as fake. Not finding it, he slumped dejectedly in his seat. He shook his head, ignoring Talian's statement about not being rich.

"I'm going to be in so much trouble." The statement was a sulk, a pout, and his lip stuck out typically as he finished speaking. He was still holding the healers knots in front of his face, just staring at them.

"D'ren is going to kill me!" Suddenly, B'jin was on his feet, his eyes wild as he threw himself out of the chair and began to pace the room, looking slightly scary as hysteria kicked in to the eccentric man's brain. "He is going to hang me. He is going to drop me between and chain my dragon to a chair!" He turned wild, crazy eyes on Talian and stared at him.

Wailing, B'jin collapsed back in his chair, and dropped his head heavily onto the desk. The crack was loud, and outside, Larrikith could be heard making odd sounds as she came up the beach. Then her green face shoved through the open window and she stared at B'jin with obvious disdain before turning her attention upon Talian.

Stupid boy! Larrikith's voice, usually dry and irritable, was additionally angry as she bespoke the boy. All he had had to do was think 'master' once, once and they would have left him alone!

B'jin groaned, and looked up at Talian, meeting the Healers eyes with his own, still looking slightly wild and oddly afraid.

5
Candidate Isle / Re: Honey! I'm home!
« on: 20 Jan 2012 at 01:20 AM »
Larrikith couldn't think, and thinking was precisely what she needed to be doing at this very moment. Before her, in a room smaller than her body, and making a lot of noise (both in a literal sense, and in a manner of the bonded) were two men who were severely freaking out over something that could have been avoided, if either of them had bothered to introduce themselves before things were taken into accordance. Larrikith was a clever Searcher, and she was particularly proud of her ability to slip into an unsuspecting mind and poke around. Usually, she could easily inform B'jin of which - who - to avoid. Unfortunately, the young man in the room appeared to be one of those that did not have the ability to praise himself - or accept anyone that did it for him. Had he been a little more thoughtful, she could have found out he was a Master - in whatever manner - and they would have left him behind.

But no, no. Larrikith jerked her head, trying to physically separate her thoughts from B'jin's, and in the process cracked her head against the window frame above her. The sound of a dragon skull and heavy wooden frame coming together was rather loud and sickening. B'jin, mind-linked, yelped in agony and clapped his hands to the back of his head, blinking spots that weren't a physical effect of his own body. Larrikith, too, yelped and the sound echoed in the small house as her eyes flashed blood red and whirled rapidly in pain.

"Larri!" B'jin, forgetting for the moment all about the young healer who should not have been a Master, rushed to his dragon's head and began stroking her nose and crooning nonsense under his breath. After a moment, it appeared that the hard whack to the back of the head had settled both dragon and rider, who turned their attention, as one, upon the bemoaning Talian.

"I exist," B'jin stated solemnly. "For now," he added, under his breath. "When D'ren finds out you're a master I may or may not survive." His lips pursed, and he took a seat, rubbing the bridge of his nose as Larrikith snorted a gusty breath out.

"My name is B'jin, and I am a Searchrider of Larrikith, my green." B'jin indicated, perhaps unnecessarily, his green dragon. She was watching, her chin resting on the lower window frame. Her eyes looked slightly dull as she nursed a headache. "We were sent to the North to find potential candidates. Our Weyrwoman's gold, Nirinath, flew in Mid Spring, and her clutch will be upon the Sands before we know it. Depending on how you take to your new life here at Katila, will dictate your ability to Stand, and chances of Impression." The man paused, and brushed a hand over his face, looking tired. It was a change in expression that almost made him look his near-fifty turns, instead of the twenty odd he seemed to appear the majority of the time. "You're being a Master is going to cause a great deal of complications. Only those of Journeyman rank or below are eligible to be Searched, and I highly doubt our Weyrleader is going to be very happy with me over this. Unfortunately," B'jin continued, dipping his quill and absently drawing in the other corner of the sheet, "you cannot be returned to the North."

6
Candidate Isle / Re: Honey! I'm home!
« on: 20 Jan 2012 at 02:48 AM »
"Well, actually, masters are eligible." B'jin grimaced, and shrugged. "We could sorely use the experience and knowledge you have. The reason we avoid Masters is the simplest of explanations - they are too easily missed, besides the fact that they don't often travel outside of their home Hold or Hall. Journeymen, not so much. Unfortunately, the problem with Journeyers is that the are not home to the knowledge of a master. Katila Weyr is vastly populated by Plague-scarred dragonriders, and an assortment of children who only have enough knowledge to be useful with the brats."

He was being a bit harsh, maybe but the man was completely serious, and his expression - while still lingering in self-pity for the trouble he was sure he would be in - was also home to an uncharacteristically out of place frown. It pulled his usual smile lines into odd angles and gave the man a much older appearance. It didn't suit him, not at all. The situation at Katila Weyr was serious, however, and B'jin was not so naive to not know that. Their habit of only spiriting away Journeymen and women meant their education levels could only extend so far; though there were those that had been on the brink of their Masters, they didn't hold the knots that this young man did - or rather, B'jin did, since he still had them wrapped up in his fist.

Liking his lips, B'jin rolled his head on his neck, pleased when the joints didn't crack, and looked lazily at Talian. "I don't think so. The reason Larrikith settled on you, was the fact that she easily discovered your lack of anxious families. You won't be missed by anyone of that nature. Unfortunately, we didn't realise you would be missed by the Hall you look to." B'jin pursed his lips, and shook his head. "Larrikith insists she couldn't find anything in your mind to hint at being a master, and I am inclined to believe her." B'jin's eyebrows rose slightly. "Had you had a little more pride in your rank, you wouldn't be here."

Go easy, B'jin.

"At any rate, what's done is done." The man mostly ignored his dragon's input. Extending his hand above the desk, B'jin carefully placed the knots of mastery upon it, in front of the very unhappy looking young man.

"I am sorry, Talian, but you are here, now, and there isn't any going back."

7
Candidate Isle / Re: Honey! I'm home!
« on: 20 Jan 2012 at 03:22 AM »
B'jin listened quietly as Talian seemed to go off on a tangent. He learned more about the young man in those few moments than he had been able to previously, and felt that it was probably a step forward even if Talian was going backwards in the process. A small, quiet smile worked itself onto B'jin's lips, and he gave the young healer a patient look.

"We all have much to learn, Talian, and experience can only be obtained through the years." He indicated the knots the young man was fiddling with, "you, however, do have the knowledge required to assist the other young men and women who claim Healer as their craft through to a Masters ranking."

Pausing at that, B'jin seemed to let the subject die - or at least, he changed it to something else. His voice was soft and low as he spoke, leaning forward slightly in his chair so his weight was on his elbows upon the table. The dragonrider's expression was wide eyed, and home to the innocent gleam that was more commonly seen and accepted around Katila Weyr. His eyes, however, were home to pain and regrets that he let the healer see.

"Very few at Katila Weyr are happy to be here, Talian. We all have friends, family and loved ones back North. The decision to stay here is not something everyone agreed with, but we do as we are commanded, for we cannot outrank our Queen." He sounded sad, and he picked at his sleeve with one hand, not looking him in the eye for a moment. Glancing up, B'jin met Talian's eyes. "I have a son, up north, a little older than you would be. There are many here, with children that were left behind. More, still, with children that never made it through the Plague."

A shudder twisted down his spine, and B'jin jerked straighter in his seat. His expression reformed in an instant, eyes flashing as he glanced towards Larrikith. Obviously, something had been said, and he smiled lovingly at the green beast in the window. B'jin was still feeling the very real sting of losing his sister and her children.

"But, we all make do. We all build new lives." He grinned. "I have two small children, now. A son, and a daughter. Amorandii is only four, and very sweet." A pause. "She looks so much like her late aunt." Whispered as it was, the healer may not have heard. Either way, it wouldn't matter. So long as the young man understood one thing -- he was hardly alone. B'jin didn't enjoy being made out to be a monster, and was watching the young man sadly.

8
Candidate Isle / Re: Honey! I'm home!
« on: 20 Jan 2012 at 04:31 AM »
He is very unhappy. Larrikith intoned quietly, her head tilting as she peered at the man in question, her eyes swirling lightly in colours that dictated her uncomfortable mood.

I know that, love

I don't think you do, the dragon returned, her voice frowning even if her features couldn't convey the scrunching of eyebrows she didn't have. He was unhappy before he came here, for a long time, I think.

B'jin blinked, as he realised that Larrikith was poking around in the youngster's head. He probably should tell her off for it, but it had become a regular occurrence for the dragons to delve into the minds of those they stole away from the North - they had to be sound, before being offered the chance to Impress - and the easiest, surest way to be certain that a potential candidate wouldn't cause a dragon to Suicide (such as that one girl in Renewed Hope) was to thoroughly dig into their mind, their memories, and their thoughts.

I didn't dig deep enough, Larrikith admitted, sounding chastened. He is not candidate material.

B'jin froze for a moment, and turned frowning brown eyes upon his dragon. Wonderful, love. Not only have we stolen a master crafter, but we have also stolen one who is not mentally stable. Well done! Sarcasm dripped from the thoughts. We're going to be lost between -- if we're lucky! Shaking his head, B'jin turned his attention back upon Talian as he asked his question.

"Well, you will be given a room here on Candidate Isle, until a dragon-test confirms you aren't going to flee on us and put Katila at risk of discovery. Which, coincidentally, is why no one is allowed to return North. You will meet either Weyrwoman Tusen, Weyrleader D'ren, or perhaps both. Probably both, considering your rank and status."

B'jin paused, to allow Talian time to take that in. After a moment, he continued. "Once you have adjusted sufficiently, you will be allowed to move in to Katila proper. Once there, you will likely be melded into the Healer Hall, while also being shuffled into our Chore Wings - everyone here is required to pull their weight and chores alternate on a regular basis." A thoughtful pause. "We have Gathers, to spice things up, and sometimes interesting things happen. We have enough green beauties to fly every other day at least, and there is a feline pride on the outskirts of the Weyr that have caused a few problems recently."



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[span style="background-color:#111905;"][color=#93aa73]Larrikith Speech[/color][/span]

9
Candidate Isle / Re: Honey! I'm home!
« on: 20 Jan 2012 at 11:53 PM »
B'jin smiled tolerantly at the young man sitting across from him. "Yes, they aren't always what they are cracked up to be. Ours tend to involve a lot of alcohol - Benden, usually, and music. Katilan alcohol is very rough and will take longer to get used to than the Weyr itself."

B'jin stood up carefully, and took the sheet of parchment with him. Holding the item without folding or denting it, B'jin rolled it into a tube and wrapped a small length of leather around it. This done, he quietly indicated with one hand that Talian should also rise. Walking to the door, B'jin opened it and with a quick glance over his shoulder, lead the way towards the living quarters of the large Hut they were in.

"There are those that try," B'jin muttered, his tone unhappy, "and it never ends well." The young man probably didn't need to be told of drownings from those that attempted to get off the Isle before a dragon could rescue them (the desperation required to attempt swimming off the Isle in itself gave B'jin pause as to why a dragon would chose such a potential candidate), those that fled the Weyr proper, to become fodder for a felines stomach. If they were lucky, a dragonrider would find them before they ended up in trouble... B'jin shuddered, and cleared his mind of such thoughts.

Pausing, the greenrider opened a door after a single knock, and looked around. It was empty, and appeared uninhabited. Pursing his lips thoughtfully, B'jin turned to look at Talian. "This room will have no companion at the moment. Would you prefer your own room? There are some other young men on the Isle that you could bunk with if you would prefer."

The young man was welcome to bunk with one of the women also on the Isle, if he preferred, but while the Dragonriders wouldn't forbid such an occurrence, they didn't particularly go out of their way to encourage it, either. Most people who found themselves forced onto the Isle weren't really looking for companionship. Then again, there were those that were.

"I'll leave you to exchange insults about Dragonriders with your fellows here on the Isle." The tone of B'jin's voice was a combination of amused and understanding. It was never easy on the new comers, and B'jin could emphasize with that.

"Did you need anything, Talian? I need to speak to B'jin before Larrikith gossips."

I do NOT gossip! A pause. Ronarth says D'ren is in his hut.

B'jin groaned.

10
B'jin was less than enthusiastic as he exited the Isle hut and made his way out to join Larrikith as the dragon ambled back up from the shore line; she'd gone back into the water when B'jin was taking Talian to his room. Salt water dripping down her well rounded form, the little dragon approached her rider with much more enthusiasm.

D'ren is waiting, she said cheerfully, extending her wings and giving them a flutter to dispel water droplets. B'jin frowned slightly and his shoulders slumped for a moment. Carefully, he twirled the tube of parchment in his hands, B'jin paused sadly for a moment, terrified to continue - but more afraid not to. Sighing, he swung up onto Larrikith's back, grimacing in disgust at the wet leathers.

"Wonderful. Now I'll get scolded for not taking care of my gear too!" B'jin grumbled, very out of character, and sighing, swung down again. "Here, let's take those off. I'm not going to have you in wet gear when we get over to D'ren's hut." With Larrikith's assistance, B'jin quickly tugged all the wet leather off the dragon, and lugged it inside the entrance way. Dumping it, he promised himself he'd come and get it later, once it was dry (assuming the young men and women on the Isle didn't destroy it) and give it a thorough oil. Or he'd end up making new ones, but hunting without leathers was difficult and dangerous - but not quite as much as doing so with cracked leather.

Can we go yet? Larrikith snapped, irritated by the constant delaying. Great Faranth you're worse than a Weyrlingmaster delaying between!

That startled a laugh out of B'jin, and he shook himself as he swung once more aboard his dragon, aware of a few Isle-bound watching with varying degrees of interest.

"Okay, love, let's go."

Finally! Spreading her wings, Larrikith pushed off strongly and shot up into the air, her green wings pressing down strongly to catch her weight above the ground, and in a beautiful display of gravity defiance, they climbed into the air. Turning carefully on a wingtip, Larrikith shot off in the direction of Katila Weyr.

That depends on one's definition of 'good', Ronarth, Larrikith deadpanned as she carefully adjusted her body to land lightly in a gap between D'ren's personal hut and those that surrounded it. Fluttering her wings, she settled them on her back and sat down like a feline, looking very irritable. Despite her continual blaming of B'jin, Larrikith was well aware of the fact that if she had dug enough in the young man's mind, she would have discovered both his rank, and his apparent lack of a stable mind.

B'jin slid down off his dragon, and cautiously approached the doorway. He paused, almost dramatically, though his expression looked like he was about to be sick, and tapped almost too lightly to count as a knock on it. After a split second, he knocked a little louder and carefully opened the door, peering in timidly before slipping through the small crack and closing it behind him. Stepping forward cautiously, B'jin approached D'ren, still looking slightly terrified.

"D'ren? We may have an issue." He was, however, proud that his voice came out clear and strong as he stood near trembling before the Weyrleader. This would not be fun.

11
Listen in, Larrikith advised, twitching uncomfortably and looking irritable - more with herself than with the bronze dragon laying near by, or even the rider within the building. She grumbled, under her breath, and her eyes whirled swiftly and in agitation. Twitchy, and very unhappy, Larrikith did her best to settle her emotions, and those of B'jin, so they could get this over with.

B'jin had crept in with a tiny bit more confidence at D'ren's invite - he didn't sound mad, yet - and carefully inched his way into the chair offered. Seating himself, B'jin tangled his hands together, fingers entwined, and glanced up at D'ren with a very worried expression through the length of his lashes. The smile on D'ren's face did nothing to reassure the greenrider and he flinched visibly as the man spoke.

Taking a deep breath, B'jin steeled himself and sat taller, meeting D'ren's gaze in an almost uncharacteristically bold manner. B'jin was usually more timid and eccentric than the expression of grave fear twitching across his face.

"Larrikith miss-judged, and I asked the wrong questions." He began, allocating equal blame across the pair of them. After all, a Search pair was exactly that - a dragon and her rider and neither was any more or less to blame, no matter how much they threw insults at each other. They were, and always would be, in it together. Another deep breath was taken, and breathed out softly. "The young man is an honorary Master of the Healer Craft."

B'jin shook his head, and his hands unlaced long enough to both be shoved back through his hair, which was standing on end in a manner that suggested it was not the first time the action had been taken in recent times. Dropping his hands back into his lap, the man fought the urge to pace the room.

"I - He doesn't look the part, and he wasn't wearing his knots - he keeps them in his pocket. We heard him introduced himself as a Journeyman Healer and nothing more, up North. I mean..." B'jin slumped in his chair, wondering if he should bother to explain himself. How could he, without it sounding like he was making up excuses?

"He is withdrawn, and alone - he takes no pride in his masters ranking. Larrikith singled him out for ease, in the end - there was another she was more interested in, but the young lady posed too much of a risk." B'jin gave D'ren a flat look at the end of that statement, to emphasis the irony of avoiding a risk, only to end up stealing a bigger one. "She'd just been assigned to the Hold, and would be too readily missed. I'll go back and get her, eventually. She'll go for a brown, if not gold, should Nirinath so bless us. Very serious, well maintained young lady with a lot of potential... But Talian was easy, and acceptable, and we'd already been gone for the better part of two sevendays."

B'jin stopped, and shook his head. "I..." B'jin sighed and slumped. "Sorry."

12
Healing Hall / Re: Close To Home
« on: 21 Jan 2012 at 10:11 AM »
Benjinamor, better known to the Southern population as B'jin, was not an often seen face within the Healing Hall. In fact, it was such a shock to see the man in their walls, that a couple of people actually went out of their way to do a double take. One girl, so startled she tripped, sent her armload of bedding flying. An amused B'jin had quickly helped her scoop the assorted cloths up, before politely enquiring after the young woman he had brought in to Katila Weyr not so long ago. Receiving instructions on where to find the girl, B'jin had bowed slightly to the flustered woman, and quickly made his way through the halls.

A blind person could have seen how uncomfortable B'jin was in the Healing Hall, as he scuttled along, shoulders hunched and making his lanky 5'9 figure almost halve. His arms were held close to his side, and his eyes darted about warily. While he wasn't actually scare of the Healer Hall itself, he was more than a little worried about running into a pot of numbweed on legs that would hunt him down and coat him in the gooey goodness. Larrikith snorted sleepily from her couch by his hut, but quickly settled back down again, ignoring her riders self-created distress. She'd offered to simply summon the girl to them. But oh no, B'jin would rather sweat it out hunting her down in the Hall, than wait calmly and comfortably by her side for the girl to come to them. Well, if he wanted to torture himself, who was she to say no?

B'jin, as he usually did, ignored his dragon's attitude and input, and continued to concentrate on not ending up a mass of tiny boils by landing head first in a pot of numbweed, which he just knew was hiding somewhere, ready to pounce out and get him. His suspicious lurking, and high-strung nerves, however, was what caused a weyrbrat to just about send him flying through the ceiling when she tapped him on the side. Squealing like a little girl, and turning wide eyes on the child, B'jin stared down at his daughter who stared back up at him in shock. She then burst into tears. Sighing, B'jin picked the four year old up, and hugged her close, reassuring her as he continued his trip along the halls a little more relaxed as he concentrated on the child.

"Mummy on duty here, love?" His daughter nodded her little head, and B'jin smiled. Maybe he'd catch up with the pretty blue rider after he had spoken with Tiani. Smiling happily at the thought of the saucy woman, B'jin shifted Amorandii on his hip, and glanced around, looking for the room the other girl had suggested he look in. Sniffling quietly, Amorandii snuggled closer to her father, and sucked on her thumb, relaxing as she looked around idly. She knew the Healer Hall fairly well, spending a fair amount of her time there with her mother (she had a tendency to fight physically with other children, so rarely went to Crèche. Her parents had no idea why.) and wondered where her father was going, and what he was looking for.

"Now, where could she be?"
"Who?"
"A girl I brought in," B'jin mumbled, peering into a room at random, and lowering his daughter to the ground absently as she wriggled. "Tiani. She's a healer."

Blinking as her feet touched the ground, Amorandii followed her father, thumb still in her mouth, as he searched. After a while, she seemed to grow bored, and headed over to the other side of the room, peering in with wide eyes. She was greeted by the back of a woman, and a blunt question. Tilting her head, Amorandii continued to stare at Tiani's back for a moment longer, before she quietly left the room, and went to get her father. It didn't take her long, but if Tiani had turned, she would have found a completely empty door way.

A moment later, however, the child successfully tugged her father to the doorway, and, grinning, giggled before dashing off down the hall. B'jin frowned at Tiani's back. Larrikith, however, saw potential in every motion, and made her claim upon the most recent: If she credits you with the giggle, I want a child free oiling. B'jin rolled his eyes.

"Good morning, Tiani!" The man's voice, cheerful and upbeat as ever, was almost overly loud in the quiet morning, and relatively deserted region of the Hall. His grin was sincere , however, eyes bright and the expression almost childish in the apparent innocence. He blinked. "How are you faring?" A little more serious now, B'jin's cheerful was toned down a little, but no less apparent. The greenrider did feel a little guilty about snatching her away from her life and family, and he'd seen some of the other new comers go through some really interesting bouts of depression, elation, and well... everything. As such, he was slightly wary of Tiani throwing herself at him in a fit of rage. He did hope. however, that she hadn't yet learned of his allergy to numbweed. If she knew of that, and was angry... B'jin shuddered.




Random is as Random does! Hope it's okay O-o I'm so out of RPing it's not funny!

13
Healing Hall / Re: Close To Home
« on: 21 Jan 2012 at 10:12 AM »
B'jin's expression brightened visibly as Tiani recalled his name with apparent ease, his grin widening to show straight, white teeth in his otherwise tanned face. He had been worried she might only recall him by whatever ludicrous name Larrikith had come up with for his mission up North - He hadn't been able to go by B'jin for apparent reasons, and of course, Benjinamor was listed as deceased by the Harper records. Not that he could remember what name Larrikith ha- Jimmy. B'jin flinched noticeably. A moment later, he realised Tiani had been speaking to him, while his mind had been wandering all over the planet. Focusing once more on the girl, he blinked to see her now facing him, rather than the panes of her back.

"Oh? Oh! Sorry!" The words of the young woman took a moment to register, but with the help of Larrikith's snide input, B'jin fidgeted slightly and looked a little guilty. "I didn't mean to startle you." Glancing around anxiously, B'jin searched for some way to change the subject, when the healer gave it to him.

"Oh, well, I'm fine thank you." His grin reappeared, bright and charming as ever, and his brown eyes sparkled. He then realised what he'd said, and where he was located, and his features fell into a blank mask as B'jin tried to think of a way to fix the rather large foot he'd shoved into his mouth. If he was fine, and apparently cheerful, what was he doing in the Hall? Larrikith's laughter in the back of his mind was not helpful. She seemed to realise this, and upped the tone.

"I, um, oh, yes. Um, excuse me a moment -" QUIET! - "Sorry, my dragon? You see, she's well, sometimes she's loud, and I, um, I was having trouble concentrating, which is already hard enough, because you see, I-. Shards!" Flushing crimson as he realised he was babbling nonsense, B'jin took a deep breath in, and slowly released it, a smile once more appearing upon his face, albeit this time slightly wonky and self depicting. "No, I don't like it down here." A small shudder, "but we shan't go into that!" He grinned, almost teasing, and waved a hand towards where he had come from, and, one would assume, where his dragon was located to some degree. "I do have a reason for being here, however! Besides dropping by to see how my loveliest venture was fairing," Great Faranth help us. I hope she numbweeds you for that. "-I'm ignoring you Larrikith! - I actually am here to pick up some more numbweed for the ungrateful green lump."

B'jin grimaced, looking unhappy and brought his arms in front of himself, crossing them absently. "She flew shortly after arriving back here," He wasn't sure if the girl were aware of it, but in any case, "and at any rate, the blue that flew her had great dirty claws. Her wing joints were sliced, which isn't uncommon, she's got a lot of scarring there. But, the horrid beast had filthyy claws and the cuts became infected. I've been tending them, but they just don't want to heal! Larrikith is grounded, and she's grumpy and hungry and in pain and driving me insane!" Blinking, B'jin snapped his mouth shut as he realised his voice had been increasing in volume as he spoke, and almost yelling by the end of his little tirade, his arms gesticulating wildly around his head, indicating the insanity he was currently subjected to.

Shifting uncomfortably again, B'jin shrugged slightly and looked apologetic, his arms dropping to his side when he realised they were up in the air.. "Sorry. I'm a little stressed." he took another deep breath, and ran a hand through his hair, the other arm hanging at his side as uselessly as the poor man felt. Looking up, wide eyed, his expression was almost begging. "Please tell me you have something strong enough for her?"


I, ah, have no idea where any of that came from o_o

14
Healing Hall / Re: Close To Home
« on: 21 Jan 2012 at 10:13 AM »
While B'jin still didn't know Tiani very well on a personal level, he was aware of the girl's generally given personality. Of course, said knowledge was gathered by the usual harper tactics - gossip. As such, even B'jin's occasional density was being made aware that the young woman was not everything he had heard about her, but quite a lot more! Added to that, that the healer was the first person B'jin had been allowed to steal from the North (Larrikith was very particular about her choices - I picked you didn't I?) and he was more than a little curious as to how she was coping, and, more, who she was. While he wasn't sure he could quite be friends with the girl - You idiot, why not? - he was more than delighted to try. She was proving to be a very interesting person.

While B'jin was not everything Tiani expected of a dragonrider, B'jin was moer than delighted to notice she herself was not everything he associated with Healers. She wasn't stuffy, she wasn't all-knowing, and most importantly, she wasn't shoving numbweed at him with this look of horrified delight to find out exactly what it was about him that caused the substance to blister his skin. He wasn't sure she was aware of this, ah, issue he had - Healers weren't as inclined to gossip as Harpers were - but he didn't bet on her not finding out eventually. It was pretty common knowledge, after the blow-out he had had with the Weyrleaders about his refusal to be a part of the Numbweed gathering wing. No way, no how, was he going on that. Then there was the fact that he had to have a fellow rider assist with numbing Larrikith when required. It was all very painful (never mind the Turns he'd been alone with the green. Ugh.)

"Oh, thank Faranth!" B'jin exploded in response to Tiani, and visibly fought the desire to throw himself at her in a jubilant hug. He was with it enough to be worried about how, exactly, such a hug would go down. Beside which, the girl was now tossing around herbs of various types, and he was more than a little wary. "You are a life saver!" B'jin gushed, grinning with relief and slumping happily as the weight of the world seemed to lift from his shoulders.

B'jin lost his mind Turns ago, little healer. Larrikith's input surprised B'jin who blinked rapidly and stared at Tiani, tilting his head. "See what I am subjected to?" B'jin pouted, bottom lip sticking out and his brown eyes sparkling playfully. "I'm trying to get you to help, and she is being a bully."

B'jin laughed at Tiani's request not to let Larrikith kill her, and he grinned happily. "She won't. And I'm not a fan of tea, but if it helps this headache I've got, I'm good." Creeping closer on his toes, B'jin peered over Tiani's shoulder to watch what she was doing, skipping and hopping out of her way whenever she went to grab something, his face alight with a wary curiosity. When she finished putting things in the pots to brew, B'jin pointed at the small, which he assumed was for himself. "That does not look tasty."

"Oh! Of course! Larrikith says she's just outside, and that she is quite looking forward to some relief. Of course, she didn't put it quite that nicely." He grinned, and gently grabbed Tiani's hand, and tugged her arm, impatient to be outside. "You're going to need a looooooot" he stressed the word comically, dropping the girl's hand and bouncing towards the doorway. "She has huuuuuuge wings." Still grinning teasingly, B'jin bounced out of the room and vanished out of the Healer Hall.

Just outside the main building, Larrikith was sitting on her haunches, her tail wrapped around her hind feet as she posed in a very feline manner, her head tilted to make her eye the closest part of her body as B'jin came leaping out. Grinning, the man flung himself at his dragon's maw, and hugged her, before stepping back and letting the green lower herself carefully to the ground, and timidly extend her wings. When she was poised, she turned her attention upon the young healing woman. You will see better if you climb up behind my wings. He made a real mess, I have seen through B'jin's eyes. Larrikith's voice was a deep thrum, and her eyes sparkled as she watched the girl. She wasn't really one to bespeak a non-rider often, but she did enjoy doing so occasionally - their reactions were more than worth it! Whatever you do, do not get that numbing cream anywhere near my rider, or I will eat you! Her voice took on a harsh tone then, and B'jin coughed softly, looking uncomfortable.

"Be nice, Larri. She's trying to help."

You may help now. Larrikith announced arrogantly, ignoring her rider, all her attention focused on Tiani. B'jin sighed softly, and shook his head.

"She's not normally so irritable. But, well, when you see the mess they are, you'll understand."


Feel free to get creative with the damage done to her wings. I'd say it's about a week or so old, and festy xD

15
Healing Hall / Re: Close To Home
« on: 21 Jan 2012 at 10:15 AM »
"Okay," B'jin said easily, letting the girl pull the shots, as he had no idea at all about the ins and outs of healing. He knew what made him sick, and he knew what to avoid, but he was pretty nieve when it came to what would make him - or his dragon - better. If the girl said aloe and garlic was what the numbweed need to make his precious green's wings better, well, then, aloe and garlic away! B'jin grinned. "Better than feeding it to her. Garlic breath, on draconic proportions!" The rider shuddered comically.

B'jin's comical pout was back in place when the healer agreed with his dragon's comment about his lack of sanity, but he brightened when she spoke to him. His eyes widened dramatically and he held a hand to his chest, looking bewildered. "Me? Bully? But I'm far too sweet!" Even as he spoke, his features moulded into a look of childish innocence and sickly sweetness. "I wouldn't dream of bullying dear, sweet Larrikith." You are so full of ash. B'jin burst out laughing. "So long as I can drink it fast, it doesn't matter what it taste like, Tiani." B'jin replied to her musing on the tea, "I don't plan on it being in my mouth long enough to taste it." He smiled, less outrageously, and inclined his head.

As the young woman scrambled up the side of his dragon, B'jin shook his head dramatically at her offering for him to help. "Ah, that's okay. You have it well under control." B'jin shuffled slightly on the spot, anxious and unhappy at being unable to see what was going on. He knew what Larrikith's joints currently looked like, and the pretty dragon had seen them through his own eyes herself, to her distress. While not a particularly vain dragon, Larrikith was proud of her appearance, and seeing the mess the blue had made of her wing joints had distressed her - though not nearly as much as the invading infection had done. Her inability to fly had restricted her ability to eat and it was making her very unhappy and unsure of herself. Dragons were meant to fly!

Swinging her head low, Larrikith blinked at B'jin who stepped closer and rubbed her eye ridges absently for a moment. After a slight nudge from his life mate, B'jin climbed up her neck, being careful to mind where Tiani was rubbing in the numbweed, and settled himself on her neck, just out of reach of the joints. A low rumble rippled through Larrikith's throat, and she took in a great breath, blowing it out gently. B'jin smiled, a truly relaxed smile, and gently patted Larrikith's neck.

"That's much better. But she says you missed a bit over there." B'jin pointed in the direction of Larrikith's left joint, and indicated an area slightly outside the radar of scratches. "She says there is a small part there that pains her." B'jin frowned slightly, face taking on a blank expression. "Oh. It's unrelated!" He grinned. "She has an itchy patch where new skin is growing through. If you could numb it for now, I just have to oil it later."

As Larrikith rejoiced in the numbness of her wings, she stretched the large appendages out as far as she could in each direction, and then upwards as high as they would go, making cooing sounds in the back of her throat as she did so. Thank you, little healer. Larrikith's voice was a softly murmured whisper as she wriggled happily. B'jin flung himself from her neck with a practised leap, and landed with cat like grace at her feet. Rolling her shoulders, Larrikith gently folded her wings in to her sides, and sat up slowly, watching Tiani carefully to make sure she didn't disrupt the girl that had just helped her.

As B'jin watched the pair, he scrunched his nose up and tilted his head at Tiani. "We don't get along." He stated simply. Larrikith snorted a gusty breath of air that was obviously laughter, and flicked her tail tip to be around her toes. Turning to look at Tiani over her shoulder with a movement that was very reminiscent of an eyebrow arching in amusement, the dragon snorted in amusement again.

"She's saying things that pretty ladies shouldn't be privy to." B'jin offered, when he realised Larrikith was talking to Tiani, but not allowing the girl to hear her. Silly dragon. "I have a reaction to it. It isn't pretty, it isn't fun, and it doesn't numb me!" His eyes widened, and he stared up at Tiani, he got in with the defensive as soon as he could: "and it's NOT funny!"

Larrikith resorted to gustily expelled breaths of laughter.

16
Larrikith roared, rearing to stand up and flinging her wings wide, her expression was curdling as she snarled in the direction of the hut, where she could see the two men through one of the small windows. Eyes whirling so fast they were nothing but a blur of horribly angry red in her otherwise petite face of green, the dragon's extended wings and snarling expression made her appear much larger than her actual size, very much like an angry feline.

How dare you! Larrikith did not shriek, ever in all her twenty-odd years of life. This, however, came remarkably close as venom dripped from the three words that were openly directed at the Weyrleader himself. She seethed for a moment, as if she couldn't control herself enough to even form coherent thoughts while inside, B'jin had at first flung himself away from D'ren, looking wildly terrified as the other man screamed at him before curling up in shame in his seat, face burning a horrible shade of red as he tried to make himself invisible. His emotions were in turmoil; D'ren had just acknowledged him as the best! But, only because he had so terribly, terribly screwed up. B'jin's brown eyes were swimming, but he had enough pride and self loathing to not let the water fall.

He will Impress! Larrikith snarled, shuddering visibly as she withheld her desire to clamp D'ren to the floor with a clawed foot. She completely ignored her weyrleader dragon, and while she pulled her wings back somewhat, she still gave the impression of being more than ready to slaughter anyone that looked at her wrong. Around them, she could feel the eyes of the curious peering out, but not willing to be seen. Screaming humans and dragons was not something to investigate.

"Just... not any time soon," B'jiin peeped, still curled up miserably in his seat, eyes locked on D'ren's pacing feet and shoulders rather than risking looking the dragonrider in the face. His own was still burning in shame, and while he felt less likely to burst into tears, he wasn't going to risk a wrong look setting him off. He had some pride left, somewhere, maybe...

"He was on-route," B'jin put in lamely, voice barely audible, "his family won't miss him. His hall will, but not for a while..." It was useless, but he needed D'ren to understand why they had settled on the young man, even if the young woman would have been a much better choice.

"I'm sor-"

Shut up B'jin! Larrikith put in, audibly and angrily, cutting off her rider and her voice booming through the minds of any open enough to hear anything remotely draconic. We did nothing wrong! Her regal, furious glare dared D'ren to contradict her, dared him.

B'jin choked on a breath, and looked up, eyes wild, white as a sheet. Oh, Faranth, Larrikith, SHUT UP!

17
Larrikith shut up with a gargled squeak at Ronarth's command, the natural instincts of a lower-ranking dragon falling into place, despite her desire to rebel. B'jin, distraught though he was, offered enough back up to the bronze to assist with controlling the irate green. She usually would have simply ignored either of them; it was impossible for her to ignore them both. Snarling, irate, and wanting very much to fly away, Larrikith was further bound by her bonded, who had just burst into tears.

B'jin wasn't sobbing, he wouldn't allow himself to fall apart that much (that was for at home, hidden from even Larrikith's prying eyes, if not her mind) but the tears were flooding down his face in a constant river of mildly salty water, and his breath shuddered as he peered up at D'ren with distress. B'jin didn't do disappointment - he always, always did right. He may not be ackonwledged for it, or praised for it, but the man could count on one hand the amount of times he had sorely disappointed someone, and that all of those times were Nemall, in the privacy of their own hut... Dear Faranth, what would D'ren say if he knew B'jin had tried to be a part of the party to return home? Or that he had fully supported (and wanted to participate!) in the torching of Tsuen's hut?! The man's face lost even more colour, and he chocked on a breath.

"I'm s-s-sorry," B'jin chocked, the tears coming faster as he shrunk back in his chair, shoulders up around his ears and head tucked close to his chest, as if that would hide the shame-faced expression and the fact that he was crying like a weyrbrat found out of bounds.

"Y-y-yes," B'jin stammered, his hitching breath causing the word to break up. He sniffed lightly, and carefully wiped his face on his forearm; it didn't do much good, as the flooding of tears continued. "H-he," B'jin paused, and took in a deep breath, eyes closed as he held it for a moment before releasing it slowly through his nose. Opening his eyes, the greenrider continued. "He broke upon arrival. He probably wouldn't have had any major issues for another handful of Turns." His lips pursed, and his eyes dropped to the table, thoughtful and worried. B'jin didn't like the stealing manner in which Candidates were brought to the Isle, and had forfeited more than a few likely candidates in leu of coming home empty handed rather than disrupt them from their lives. If D'ren knew half of what he got up to... B'jin shuddered visibly and gave a dainty sniff.

"Twenty-three," B'jin spoke softly, answering the Weyrleader's questions without looking at him, fearful D'ren would see all the hidden secretes in his eyes if he did. Wiping his face once more on his sleeve, and glad to note the tapering off of his tears (the shame! To cry before the Weyrleader!) B'jin continued, "I know."

D'ren's thoughtful expression caused B'jin's eyes to narrow distrustfully, and he withdrew into himself almost visibly, walls shooting up as he prepared for some kind of trick, as if D'ren usually went around pulling carpets out from under his feet. He frowned at D'ren's question, and tilted his head slightly, pondering.

Severe depression, Larrikith replied, her voice low and grouchy still, but that wasn't unusual for the green in question. He will require watching. He won't run, she explained, pausing for a moment as she thought carefully about what she was going to say. Normally, Larrikith simply spoke, but the young man they had brought to the Isle required careful consideration. He may try to suicide... Then she dismissed the matter, snorting and lifting her head in dismissal and flicked her wings. Silly child would have wound up dead anyway.

18
B'jin sniffled unhappily, the sound particularly dainty all things considered, and wiped his face once more on his sleeve, looking pathetic as he tried to do as D'ren asked, feeling very much like a child as he huddled in his chair. B'jin was a parent, and he took a great deal of pride in his children; while his contact with his son, Bendilam, was limited because of his Impression to Larrikith, the young man had done his best to be there for them both. In contrast, the two youngsters he had sired at Katila were children he spent much more time with, when he wasn't up North, he was taking them for rides, teaching them to bathe Larrikith, and playing their childish little games. He understood the requirements of praise and scolding, and didn't blame D'ren for his need to, frankly, make an example of him. After all, if D'ren were willing to come crashing down on B'jin, the other's would likely be more careful in their own Search and Snatches.

"I know," it was a whisper, resigned but understanding. He wouldn't ask for or expect special treatment. He wasn't that kind of guy, and he'd never done it before - he would hardly start now. He nodded slightly, once, as D'ren continued his quiet, almost calm, little speech. B'jin's puzzled gaze rose as D'ren changed subject just slightly, and he watched his Weyrleader's expression with some slight apprehension, eyebrows drawing down as he waited to...

"Oh," the crushed expression on B'jin's face was tempted by the shoulders that slumped. He'd expected as much, but it still hurt. He loved searching, and enjoyed the socalisation it offered with those up North. To be restricted... B'jin's sad expression altered suddenly as D'ren's finger struck his nose, and the brown, tear-sparkled eyes crossed to look at it, and his nostrils flared in surprise. Lifting his gaze, B'jin's eyes uncrossed comically and he stared at D'ren with a horrified expression.

"Wh-what?" His jaw worked as he attempted to process the information B'jin had just been given, and tried to ignore the finger still present upon his nose. "... I-" B'jin pouted, sulking, as his expression began to round out to one more familiar. "How?"

19
B'jin's pout was firmly in place by the time D'ren finished speaking his first sentence. Punishment was one thing, and handleable, but when the Weyrleader had no idea how a task was meant to be completed, B'jin knew he was doomed. He bemoaned silently to Larrikith, who had nothing to offer the man in return. She was just a dragon - what did she know about fixing sick minds? The child was a healer! Surely he'd have the answer. B'jin grimaced, washing away his pout, and gave D'ren an irritable look.

"Thanks." B'jin's statement was sincere - he was incapable of giving sarcastic remarks, or even understanding them. The remark was in response to his eventual Search clearance once more, though he wasn't going to hold out too much hope that it would happen soon... He'd probably be fifty before D'ren gave him clearance, and that was if he were lucky. Sighing, B'jin stood up carefully, and passed his Weyrleader the roll of parchment that had Talian's limited details upon it.

"I'll get the rest of the information out of him while I'm at it, shall I?" His voice was tired, and it was less a question than it was a comment. He frowned, though, as D'ren expressed interest in getting the girl. "I'll get a sketch of her, for a rider. But..." He paused, looking unsure for a moment before ploughing on, "wouldn't it be risky, to grab her now? I mean," he stammered to continue, before D'ren got the wrong idea about where he was going with his objection - "we should definitely have her, but um, Talian... Won't they freak if another goes missing?" B'jin wasn't objecting to someone else picking her up, but he was worried about calling even more attention to them. It was better, that B'jin not be involved in the girl's spiriting - the risk of someone recognising him from just before Talian vanished. The searchrider went out of his way to avoid areas he had Searched within the past six to twelve months. Recognition was not a good thing.

"He won't be missed. His family are bastards." B'jin didn't need the boy to say anything, and while he was sure the boy and his family loved each other in their own way, the man was pretty sure he wasn't treasured as a child, so much as a means to an end. Or, rather, there was not the love shared between the boy and his father as B'jin could relate doting upon his own sons and daughter. Children were meant to be children, not forced into mastership.

B'jin's lips pursed, but he held any comments to himself. He knew he and D'ren were on a similar page about stealing those that lived in the North, and ranting, raving or making comments about such things weren't going to do anyone any good. They did it because they had to, and it was agreed to be the best way to survive. Year round spiriting meant there were more than enough candidates currently around Katila proper for whenever Nirinath decided she felt like flying again... It was simply an unfortunate fact that nine-tenths of those stolen ranged from unhappy to very unhappy about their new life. B'jin wasn't exactly happy himself when he discovered he was stuck in the South.

Oh, quit whining. It's much nicer here.

"Yes, sir," B'jin said, saluting officially before striding out of the Weyrleader's hut. As he stepped out the door, B'jin turned to throw a grin at D'ren. It was weak, and didn't hold any of the greenrider's usual charm, but it was a much more famililar expression than any of those he'd been wearing since his interview with Talian. Slipping over to Larrikith, he flung himself atop her neck and the green dragon flung herself into the air.

Lets get your leathers, but we'll leave the kid alone for now. B'jin's day had been plenty stressful, and he had no desire to freak out the healer after barely ... however long it had been. He'd start bugging him later. Those on the Isle were all due a social trip, anyway, and Larrikith needed a bath.

Wonderful, Larrikith said sarcastically, and just about watching as the tone went right over B'jin's head.


Probably room for you to reply once more, but we're mostly done methinks.
Also; B'jin needs to be cleared to Search by early/mid Summer 231, so he can Search Allendris xD

20
Northern Mountains / Riderless Wings [Dragons Only]
« on: 23 Jan 2012 at 04:28 AM »
True freedom was something rarely obtained for a creature that was literally dependent upon another from the first breath it took outside of the shell. Larrikith, like her dragon brethren, was no exception. Bonded to B'jin mere moments after her Hatching, she had had to search something shocking to find the young man, sitting as he had been upon the stands, recording the happenings for Weyr Records, in exchange for (apparently) a dragon of his own. That had been an interesting day, and Larrikith had greatly enjoyed it. But then, like her rider, Larrikith really did tend to enjoy most things.

It's just that she expressed her joy through sarcasm and cutting remarks, name calling, and abuse. But B'jin knew she loved him, so that was all that really mattered, in the end. Wasn't it?

At any rate, the dragon in question was greatly enjoying a flight without hindrance, human or otherwise. B'jin was sitting on the beach, where Larrikith had deposited him, while he worked on the shore line on the flying leathers that needed to be recreated.  After Larrikith's unscheduled swim on the beach of Candidate Isle in the late summer of 230, the leathers she had been wearing at the time had become a touch salty and wet. They'd managed to survive until now, and B'jin had decided it was time to replace them. Larrikith, bored with lazing on the beach, had mumbled something to her rider before pushing off in a wave of sand and taken to the skies.

The wind, up high, was stronger than down low, but the thermals were warm and carried Larrikith's small size and light weight easily. Small dragon that she was, Larrikith floated like a bird on green membranes as she slowly began to circle the large mountain that sheltered Katila Weyr from the vast coastline that would lead to the ocean, and further more, to the North. Larrikith had no desire to head to the Northern beach line; instead, she altered her wings and tail, and flew towards a rocky cliff on the mountain, sitting near the top and landed lightly in a flutter of wings. The mountaintop was bare, rocks and a stray strangled tree. In the winter, it became capped in snow, but for now, it was cold and clear and the sun was warm on her hide, despite the heavy wind that was rushing over her lithe body.

Standing with her wings folded tightly to her spine, Larrikith craned her neck to look down, staring at the mountain side, and far below, the settlement that was Katila Weyr.

21
Dining Hall / Re: Food. Meh. [B'jin]
« on: 24 Jan 2012 at 04:16 AM »
B'jin was singing. Like all things B'jin did, he was doing it with extreme enthusiasm and absolutely no regard for what the people around him would think of his actions. He was singing alone, without the addition of instrument or back up voices. The song in question was sung with a heartfelt emotion that came from believing every word that was thrumming from deep within his chest, echoing in the crystal summer air as he strode along, eyes blank as he maneuvered without really watching where he was going at all.

If one listened carefully, they would note the alterations of the words the man was singing, as he adjusted the song to better fit the unique situation that was Katila Weyr. He paused at the end of the last word of the third chorus, letting it linger and fade away before launching into the next chorus and entering the dining hall with caution, lest he run into someone unprepared to meet the solid form of a dragonrider - a caution that was well anticipated by the last minute dodging of a weyrbrat as she charged out of the Dining Hall with fists full of sweets. B'jin laughed delightedly in the space between choruses, and winked happily at the child, who returned his grin with a wild, feral expression and then darted away, giggling insanely.

Opening his mouth once more, B'jin settled back into the rhythm of his song, glancing around the Dining Hall with interest to see who the late luncheons were, and his sparkling eyes staying focused on the young man sitting sullenly at a table. He didn't appear to be doing a lot of eating, though he had a full plate, and B'jin's expression turned into playful mischief as he quickly took his gaze away from Talian and focused on the table of mostly-cold once-hot food. Approaching it, he twirled a wooden plate in a manner that probably should have had it falling from his hands to the ground but didn't, and then began to shovel food onto it with gusto. He grabbed a glass of wine, and a mug of Klah, which he somehow managed to balance alongside his full plate of food.

He then made a very direct line to Talian, and sat down on the other side of the table, directly facing the young man, with absolutely no preamble. He smiled sweetly, and set his mug and glass down carefully. He pushed the mug of hot Klah across to Talian, and his expression changed to one of slight bemusement.

"It's good." He promised, still with that odd expression, "Like everything else of any worth here at Katila, it was stolen with little thought for those left behind." His voice was honest, open, and without any sarcasm or cynicism. B'jin simply didn't know how to do either of those. Within moments, his expression was open and bright once more.

"So. Do you like being off the Isle?" he asked happily, filling a fork with food and daintily eating it. B'jin did not shovel his food like an uneducated moron. No matter how moronic the major portion of the Weyr may believe the greenrider to be.

That's why you have me, Larrikith put in cheerfully.

22
Dining Hall / Re: Food. Meh. [B'jin]
« on: 24 Jan 2012 at 06:28 AM »
B'jin's cheerful expression fell more than a little as Talian pushed the mug of Khla back towards him with a resounding single syllable. His eyebrows drew together in an expression much more akin to sulking than anything else, and then drew down in a slight frown. The expression, relatively foreign to the man's facial features, was likely more comical than anything else. It certainly wasn't an intimidating look.

"Oh." The single word was home to a flurry of emotions, from surprise to disappointment. B'jin was proud of Katila Weyr, as a whole. It was a good place, and while the new comers breathed less than positive influence into it, the weyr was a generally happy place, of late. Of course, that could be because there was a batch of new dragonets brewing. That was the best way to bring up the moral of any Weyr, and Katila was no exception.

Unfortunately for B'jin, Talian appeared to be determined to stay miserable (four days to adjust non withstanding) and B'jin was rather intimidated by the prospect of his task to 'fix' the young man and make him happy. Or something. Poetry wasn't b'jin's strong point and Talian didn't look like he could string three words together in a poetic manner. He was much too practical for that type of art. Or any art, if it didn't involve blood... B'jin blinked, and shoved his thoughts out of his mind, with the practiced ease of someone who had learned to push a dragon's probing mind far away.

B'jin almost smiled, as Talian grabbed a roll, and he was just beginning to really relax when the young healer stood up and literally fled. The greenrider, startled, sat there staring after him for a moment, not even blinking and with his mouth ajar. He blinked, and brain power rushed back. Leaping up, B'jin tripped on his own feet in his rush to untangle himself from seat and table and rush after Talian.

"Wait!" His voice held a note of pleading, and he reached out to touch Talian on the shoulder, not gripping him. It was more a polite brush, letting him know he was there while trying not to get too far into his personal space. "Please?" Now, it was all pleading, and he fought to capture Talian's eyes with his own, his expression down and drawn.

"I am sorry." B'jin said softly, hoping the young man would at least hear him out. He had to try, for both of them -- D'ren would tan his hide if B'jin didn't and B'jin didn't think he could live with himself, if he didn't help the healer adjust. It was, after all, his fault the boy was here.

And mine! Larrikith put in cheerfully, and ignored B'jin's mentally frowning reply of 'no one asked you'. No one ever does, Larrikith smirked in return, before pulling away from their mental bond. B'jin let her go, watching Talian.

23
Dining Hall / Re: Food. Meh. [B'jin]
« on: 25 Jan 2012 at 04:42 AM »
B'jin withdrew his hand quickly, looking startled when the boy flinched. Unsure how to handle such a reaction, B'jin shoved his hands into his pockets where they were out of sight, and out of mind. It wasn't a comfortable or common stance for him, but it did add to his upset and slightly bewildered expression as eh met Talian's eyes and tilted his head in question. Talian was an unusual case, and B'jin wasn't used to such a shrinking violet. Harper Hall had been full of outgoing and outrageous people - as was natural to a craft that required one to be comfortable with being in the spotlight. Further accompanied by Impressing a dragon and moving to the Weyr, B'jin had been surrounded by yet more people that were outgoing and easy to talk to. Talian was everything those people were not, and B'jin, well traveled though he was, wasn't used to being specifically required to interact with such people. It didn't help, he supposed, that Talian viewed him as a personal villain.

"No one," B'jin replied honestly, pulling his hands out of his pockets and letting them fall to his sides. It was a much more comfortable and relaxed stance than the way his elbows were required to bend in order to remain in his pockets. He was wearing riding pants, the leather thick and hardy for travel between. It was obvious he wasn't going anywhere, however, by the fact that he was simply dressed in a loose undershirt that had the chest-laces untied and open and his feet were bare. He'd been up north, buying construction tools for the better part of the Northern day. The difference in times was a little disconcerting, but not nearly as much as the temperature.

Now, that was the real question, B'jin decided, as he straightened up and looked thoughtfully at Talian. Answering it the right way would be very important. Weyrs were a haven for gossip that the Harper Hall could only dream of obtaining, and Katila was no different. B'jin pursed his lips for a moment, before visibly settling on a course of action. When faced with circumstances such as the one he was currently in, there was only one response: honesty.

"Two reasons." B'jin began, speaking lowly enough to not be overheard by anyone with flapping ears. "The founding reason? I was ordered to." He paused, making sure he captured the young man's eyes with his won, and that hte seriousness of what he was saying was understood. He adjusted his stance slightly, ready to grab Talian by the shoulder if he needed to in order to be allowed to finish what he was saying. "The other? Because I want to."

B'jin paused, waiting to see how that would be taken. He wasn't sure how to convince the kid of his sincerity. B'jin really did want to help the boy, and not just because D'ren had forced his hand. The kid needed someone, and while B'jin was aware that he probably wasn't at the top of the Healer's list of ears to listen, he was also aware that Talian would be highly unlikely to make any progress without someone with no apparent respect for boundaries just shoving him along. B'jin was just the guy for that.

24
Gather Square / To Remember [Solo post]
« on: 25 Jan 2012 at 11:06 PM »
The darkness was suffocating. It was pressing down, pressing in, pressing up. It was wrapped around him, and grasping with icy cold fingers. It was drawing his breath out, and swallowing it, refusing to relieve him with a new one, a fresh one. B'jin gasped, and shuddered. Lifting his left hand, the rider took a deep swallow of the harsh Katilan brew. It almost burned on its way down his throat, but the man, so far into his cups he was drowning in the night light, didn't notice.

His eyes, usually so warm and inviting, were cold and shadowed. Smile lines, worked so deeply into his face, surrounding his mouth while crows feet called his eyes home were unworked. A frown pulled the corner of his lips down, and his eyes were shining with the sheen of tears. Tears, drying like the river in the midsummer sun, slowly trekked their way down his cheeks. He didn't brush at them, but left them. They were itchy, but he didn't notice. The salty water would make it to his lips to mix and mingle with the beer he coarsely swallowed. Oblivious.

In his mind, B'jin could hear the harsh, heavy, crash of the storm. He could feel the shuddering terrified breaths as they filled his chest. Worse, he could feel the horror radiating from Larrikith as the dragon - so young back then! - fought to keep them above the waves, but low from the storm; She couldn't risk going any higher! Lightning was not a friend to dragons. The clouds were low, bringing the danger closer to them. They had tried, once, to get through them and above the storm, like others had tried. Some had made it. Some, they had not. B'jin shuddered as he recalled the sound of that dragon's blood curdling scream as lightning coursed through her body. A fellow green, younger, perhaps five or six. B'jin choked, coughed and spilled beer across his knee. Still, however, he was oblivious as the memories of the past attacked him, relentless.

His name, it had been spoken! B'jin! But not out loud, no, but in his mind. The tone, usually warm and soft was nothing like that of his Larrikith. No, it was his sister's Namndith. His baby sister, the little girl he had promised to look after - not to anyone out loud, but to himself, in his heart - the little girl that had idolised him and followed him into Harper Craft, and then, onto the sands to find herself a green. So pretty, so sweet, so innocent. The perfect little sister, with the perfect green. Bigger than Larrikith by several feet, and a much cleaner colour of green, with pretty little flecks of dark forest across her chest... Her voice, warm summer sunshine in the middle of a ocean storm. B'jin turned, and in reality, he echoed the movement. Though the eyes that looked over his shoulder saw nothing in reality, within the depths of his drunken mind, B'jin could clearly see the larger - younger! - green struggling, struggling to stay adrift. Upon her, his sister clung, her face pinched with fear but also determined. Before her, in her lap, her youngest daughter was hugging on of Namndith's spikes, while behind her, M'ram's elder daughter clung to her mother. Even from the distance, B'jin could tell the girl's young fists were ice-white, terrified, cold. He sobbed, even as he caught his sister's eye. He, too, was terrified. Behind him, he felt Nemall nuzzle into his neck, reassuring, his arms strong around his chest. Larrikith gasped out a croon.

Focus for me, B'jin Larrikith's soft voice entered his mind, and B'jin turned forward once more. Before him, Larrikith stood, her draconic expression frightened as her eyes whirled at high speeds. She hated it when B'jin got into these waking nightmares. It was bad enough when he remembered when he was sleeping. Larrikith knew she wasn't helping much, as she relayed the same four words now, as she did That Day. B'jin sobbed once more, the sound harsh and grating in the man's throat. His hand wobbled as he raised his drink once more to his lips. A huge swallow was taken. His hand dropped away, and the cup tumbled to the ground and rolled away. Nothing was spilled, as it revealed itself to be empty.

"M'ram!" - the word, said in memory, said in reality, was a heart rendering cry as B'jin flung himself onto Larrikith's waiting head, clinging to the dragon as he broke down and cried like a child, with great heaving gasps and sobs, tears flooding the green dragon's features as her eyes spun so rapidly they almost appeared to be still, the colours changing just as fast as she attempted to reassure both herself and her stressed rider, bonded, love, life.

"L-l-l-larry!" Sobbing, B'jin clung tighter, his well manicured fingers digging into the dragon's soft face, and she froze for a split second before relaxing into the tight, needing, grasp. B'jin didn't notice, but Larrikith knew he wouldn't - he never did, but that was alright. Larrikith remembered every one of B'jin's break downs, about this very same memory. She didn't know the specifics of why she remembered them - it had something to do with fear, and love - but she did. Every single one, and each one wound out in the same manner.

Taking a deep breath in, Larrikith measured her breathing, and in so doing, coaxed B'jin to do the same. He started hiccuping, and she breathed warm, gusty breath over him. It smelled like meat and the lavender oil he painted around her nostrils to taint her breath, and because she so liked the scent and wished to carry it with her, always. B'jin took another shuddering breath in, and slowly straightened up, his eyes wide and red and raw. His cheeks looked less like a river had traced them, and more like a tsunami. Larrikith nuzzled him gently, blowing warm breath on him.

Come sleep, love, she crooned softly, and nudged the dazed man gently. He stumbled, losing his grip on the green lifeboat he had been cligning to, and for a moment, he was lost - drowning! - before Larrikith again brought her face close, her eyes reassuring as she carefully licked the man's cheek. B'jin rubbed his cheek on his shoulder, and unsteadily climbed on board Larrikith. Shivering visibly, he wrapped his fingers, his arms, his soul, around Larrikith's neck ridges and allowed the green dragon to carry him home.

Instead of flying, Larrikith carefully went around the outskirts of the Gather, her walk almost graceful, in the careful way she managed it, wings half spread like a weyrling and steps swaying.



I thought it'd be nice to show some of B'jin's less playful nature.
Yay for solo posts =)

25
Craft Hall / Let there be music! || Anyone Welcome!
« on: 26 Jan 2012 at 12:07 AM »
Curled up demurely outside the Craft Hall, Larrikith's eyes were slowly breaching the barrier of shut, two of the three lids closed while the third lazily made to complete the assemble. Under the thin slips of skin and membranes, the glow of her eyes could be seen, whirling so slow the almost weren't moving, the colour bright, yet calming and adding the aurora of sleepiness. With her tail flicked lightly over her nose, she would have looked the perfect picture of comfortable, except that her wings, slightly on the large side, were extended and sprawled to either side of her frame. How she was comfortable and nine tenths asleep with her wings at such odds with the usual tucked-in sleeping posture of the majority of dragons, could be debated, but her relaxed body and deep breaths obviously indicated that she was.
Sitting on the section of his dragon's tail where it made itself visible once more from under her green wing, perched B'jin, an easy smile on his lips and a drum perched between his knees. Having finished with the children in his morning class, B'jin was enjoying a moment of peaceful companionship with his dragon. Despite their bond, and the time they unquestionably spent together, B'jin and Larrikith didn't spend an overly large amount of that time simply relaxing. Instead, they were usually busy or rushing about; bathing, oiling, feeding, flying, hunting, gathering, chores, educating... the list was never ending. So, having been able to dismiss his class early (to their delight) B'jin had left the classroom to find his beloved green bonded snoring in the sun outside.
I don't snore. The sleepy contradiction lacked any apparent heat, and smiling, B'jin glanced towards his dragon's face, noting that her eyes were now fully closed, and he patted the tail he sat upon in a condescending manner.
"If you say so, dear."
I do.
Laughing softly to himself, the greenrider turned his attention once more to the drum between his knees, and tapped his fingertips lightly across it, listening with pleasure to the cascade of sounds that were produced. Beside him, Larrikith's wing twitched slightly, and captured the man's attention.
"Please don't tell me you have the itches again?"
A gusty snort was expelled from the olive green, and the eye closest to her human opened enough to show the whirling orb within. The colours were a little more exotic this time, indicating her amusement. Her voice was wry. Very well then, I won't. I will require oiling soon, however.
B'jin sighed dramatically. "Whatever was I thinking to want to Impress you?" He paused for a moment, and a mocking look of shock made itself apparent on his face, eyes widening dramatically as he turned with a dramatic gasp towards Larrikith's amused eye. "Oh! That's right! I didn't!"
The dragon snorted this time, the old whine not ruffling her feathers in the least; Next time you will think twice before attending a Hatching. Her words were given with the distinct impression of a smirk, and the dragon was rewarded with a dark, dry look from her bonded. She snorted, the warm air ruffling the grasses in front to her nose, and she shifted her tail tip, curling it back towards B'jin instead of over her muzzle.
"Sweetheart, I wasn't even interested in a Firelizard." The voice, heavy with love, was additionally weighed down with wonder. "I will never understand what made you chose me."
Acceptance doesn't require understanding, Larrikith replied, her smile apparent in her voice, if not on her maw. Her emotions peaked to smug when B'jin just shook his head.
"And your inability to give consistent answers is of no help."
Your questions are consistent enough for the both of us. Why make life boring by knowing the answer before you ask the question?
This time, B'jin laughed, for her response was perhaps the only answer Larrikith did give consistently, and he took great pleasure in having her repeat it for him.
"I know, love." Standing up, B'jin placed his drum carefully by Larrikith's clawed foot, smiling at her as she shifted her head slightly to better watch him before he climbed up her side to reach his guitar. Taking it down from her neck spine, the Harper trained rider returned to his seat upon her tail, and settled against her side. Accommodating the man, Larrikith withdrew her left wing tucked it against her spine.
"Thank you, my dear." There was a slight pause as B'jin ran his fingers across the strings, a smile touching his lip as the notes filled the air. Larrikith hummed her approval and pleasure as her lids once more closed. Basking in the warmth of her presence and love, B'jin began playing, the notes improvised and the tune resulting in a soft lullaby.

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Happily Plotting For

6 Years 7 Month and 15 Days

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