Date   

Re: Gather: Tailor Stall (Attn: Bronwynn, Z'rain)

Aaron
 

As he finished, Wynn nodded her head saying "Z'rain, really it's ok. I understand. I'm just glad you're happy finally, and you should hold onto that happiness. I just hope I can finally hear about them while we are catching up today." As she finished, Wynn smiled to show she really was ok, as even though she'd been hoping he'd eventually move here with her she did understand. 

With his last words, Wynn put a hand on his arm saying happily "Alright, then let's get looking!" as she turned slightly and waved with a hand at her booth with it's makeshift portable racks of hanging clothes.

Z'rain perked up considerably after seeing that Bronwynn was at least refraining from judging him out loud! He chuckled and followed her to look at the clothes on the rack.

"I'd be happy to tell you about them," he said. "There's, ah. Well. He blushed. There's B'nault. He was a miner before he got Searched and Impressed at High Reaches. And then he found his way to Igen a while later. Took him a while to get used to the heat."

"And there's J'ril. He was a runner. Spent a good bit of his younger days running up and down the east coast up North at Benden. He ended up running up to the Weyr one day, and well, the rest is history as they say. And then he transferred to Igen, too. B'nault and J'ril, they're together, too."

"And there's Gabril. He grew up at Keroon. He's a master beastcrafter, and they brought him to the weyr to work with the herdsmen there. And you should see the man in his herding gear." He laughed. "It's a sight to behold."


Re: Lakeside to the Danger Zone ((Attn: Marsali, Rosk))

Aaron
 

Thinking the best thing to do was to just ignore and power through the totally embarrassing reaction she'd had, Marsali swallowed hard and said with just a bit of a stumble (which she *hated*) "I-I hope you and your lifemate have had a good day so far, Sir. I'm ready whenever you are to assist with washing Fephumith."

((She thinks I'm handsome,)) said Fephumith, delighted. His eyes swirled blue and he danced back and forth from one side to the other for a moment.

"Oh, you don't have to call me sir," said Rosk. He smiled at Marsali, his own cheeks tinged red. "Just Rosk will do. I've got the soapsand and scrub brushes here. And how are the runnerbeasts?" he asked. He thought perhaps talking about something a bit more familiar might put her at ease.


Re: Is it ok to be happy and sad and mad? {Fellan, E'lis}

Kouga
 

E'lis did not hide the sympathy on his face. His eyes even misted. He understood, or at least, he could try to understand where his son was coming from.
::Feelings are complex things,:: he signed. ::Sometimes we feel lots
of different things at the same time, and it doesn't mean there's
anything wrong with you. It's not your fault that the eggs didn't
hatch. It was the earthquake. I know you want to be out there Standing
with the others. And if I made the rules, I would give you the chance.
But I don't... I'm sorry.::<<

::I know PapaE'lis. I know you and PapaD'lan and all my Mamas would
let me be out there. I just don't understand why they won't. I can
hear Luna, Hobath, Ravid, and all the others just fine and they can
hear me if they want to. I can even talk to Sharp and Strom just fine
and I make sure they get lots of training. Why does it matter that I
can't hear you or use my voice to talk to you? I know it is harder,
but why does it matter that much?:: Fellan didn't actually expect an
answer, wasn't even sure he wanted one, more just it had been alot and
he was upset in way he couldn't even begin to explain or maybe even
understand. For now it had to be enough that E'lis said it was ok to
be feeling lots of things ::Can I have that hug now?:: he asked after
a pause.

*Kouga*

Join the Aywas fun - http://aywas.com/register.php?ref=768

"My personality is 30% the last anime I watched." - Tumblr
"Remind me never to get out our bad side. It seems to be ...
unhealthy." - Varric
"Death By Apple Pie a lovely poem by our friend Cole" - Dorian


Re: Right Place + Right Time = Loneliness (Attn: Any)

Alyx
 

Three months, it was shocking how much Cremmie had grown in just three months. Alyx was very glad she'd taken the leave of absence  in the beginning to get basic training in with him. He'd grown by leaps and bounds, and not just physically. Though that was the part most people noticed, mostly cause it was hard not to. You could really see the northern in him. Cremmie'd gone bulky and was well formed.

Alyx was now used to working night shifts, she'd just gotten back into working at the Infirmary. Now that she was working nights, well things were generally quieter then, and she spent much of her time studying. Tonight was her night off, and she was taking Cremmie for a walk. He enjoyed her days off greatly, because usually it was just the two of them. But tonight, Cremmie spotted one of the tunnelwhers. During training he'd decided that he liked them a great deal. 

{Chato! Is Cremmie! Want to play? }

Alyx caught the edge of his sending to the other wher, and was glad she'd packed the 'hide-em' toys with her.  That'd been Cremmie's favorite game for quite a while. It allowed him to 'hunt' without there being danger to him or anyone else. 

"Hey Tamalak, nice and quiet tonight isn't it?" Alyx asked once they were close enough for human ears.
--
Have fun with any of my characters. Alyx, Lerian (candidates), Vayka (Healer), J'hen, D'vik, Teyra, Cotai (Riders), Rotasta (AWLM)


Re: Hair today, gone tomorrow. (Attn: D'vik/Fabio- Calyse)

Alyx
 

As soon as the numbweed his his hide, Fabio relaxed into the girls arms with a relived sigh. He knew all about This part of the healing. This was the good part, when the hurt stopped. Though he wasn't so much a fan of being wrapped up. He didn't worry about scars, ladies liked scars. Or something like that. He wriggled slightly as she scooped him up again after putting things away, but made no complaints. One strand of non-torched hair had fallen forwards where he could reach it, he turned and rubbed his little wedge head through the soft locks as if he'd completely forgotten what had happened mere moments ago.
--
Have fun with any of my characters. Alyx, Lerian (candidates), Vayka (Healer), J'hen, D'vik, Teyra, Cotai (Riders), Rotasta (AWLM)


Why Do You Write As If You're Running Out of Time? (JP M'ayen/T'ril)

Laurie
 

It was amazing how quickly you could go from being the quiet kid no-one really paid attention to except occasionally to grumble his essays were a bit half-hearted to just..drowning. Garatt was just..tired. Miserably tired. Constantly tired. Tired because he tried to catch up on essays too late and too early, tired because D’xon had introduced the new torture of morning detentions, tired because eating made him feel like vomiting so he’d started to just pick at his food, tired because when he did try to sleep he couldn’t. Just tired.


So, in one class after another he started to fall behind. Homework started to be prioritised by who was likely to shout most. M’ayen, naturally, headed that list, D’xon was not far behind, then Talena and everyone else had to slot in somewhere behind with work dashed off hastily when he could. 


Or-- in someone else’s class. He was near the back of T’ril’s class, and just sitting listening was liable to make him sleepy anyway. There was a whole heap of essays he had to complete still for D’xon; the more he struggled the more they multiplied with essays on fidgeting and paying attention added to the heap. No-one would notice that it wasn’t just note-taking surely? Hesitantly at first and then with more speed he started to work on the most recent, soon shutting out the drone of T’ril’s voice altogether as his pen flew over the paper.


At first, T’ril was pleased at the diligence of all his class members, taking notes. And glancing at the notes, they looked adequate, if not good. Some of these kids would be in his classes for Turns, so the adequate notes of today would be the perfect notes of tomorrow. He probably wouldn’t have noticed, except that he’d stopped to ask a question and the one boy kept on writing. And writing. He hadn’t said that much--how many notes could one take on the breaking and separating of firestone anyway? So he stopped and looked over Garatt’s shoulder. The boy was so focused on his writing that he didn’t even notice T’ril there.


Wing formations need to be spaced...That was not what he was talking about. He stood next to Garatt and quietly asked, “So, what do Wing formations have to do with firestone?” he asked. He didn’t yell. He didn’t scream. He just asked as if he were asking what the weather was like today.


Garatt froze. He hadn’t even noticed the ACM walking up close to him. He raised a guilty face to the man; just because he wasn’t shouting yet didn’t mean he wasn’t going to. “I.. uh..” He fumbled, trying to find a good excuse. “So… you space it right.. So they don’t burn each other..?”


“Mmmhmm.” Though T’ril knew that was the wrong answer, the almost ghostly pallor of Garatt’s skin, the dark circles under his eyes, the way his uniform hung off of his slight frame...when he first started coming to class, he wasn’t that skinny, was he? T’ril chose to ignore the fact that the Candidate was doing someone else’s lesson in his class. He wanted to tell the kid to go to the Healer’s, but maybe there was a reason he looked that bad.


He decided to go talk to some of the other ACMs first. And purely by chance, or luck, or bad luck (for Garatt, at least) he chose M’ayen first. Mostly due to their Fortian connection. 


After class was over, he went to M’ayen’s office. “Got a minute,” he asked, poking his head in.


M’ayen never liked people just popping in to his office. Whilst it might be an open secret amongst most of the Candidate staff by now that he needed glasses, still, he hated being caught in them. His hand went up to them automatically as T’ril popped his head in, snatching them off hastily.


“What is it?” he asked, already scowling.


“Oh, come on, you don’t need to pretend with me,” T’ril said, pleased he’d caught M’ayen unaware. He respected the man, but he also remembered the pain he went through as a Weyrling. “Anyway, I want to discuss one of our Candidates. Young boy, still wet behind the ears.


“Anyway, I’m wondering if you’ve noticed anything off about him. He looks, frankly, sickly. Garatt is his name, and I hesitate to say this, but he may not have what it takes to be a rider.”


Without permission, he sat in one of M’ayen’s chairs. Well, they were peers now. He didn’t need permission. But it was amazing how experiences at a young age affected one as they got older.


M’ayen was still frowning as he tucked his glasses away in a drawer. “I taught you to knock!” he complained. “What’s Garatt been doing now?”


“I guess you did,” T’ril said unapologetically. 


“He was doing a different class’s homework during my lecture,” he continued. “I was going to call him on it, but he really doesn’t look well. I’m worried that he’s not taking care of himself, and if he can’t take care of himself, how can he take care of a dragon? Though I’m not sure if it’s because of that, or if he’s truly ill and not telling anyone.”


So that was how the boy was managing to keep on top of his essays. M’ayen had been waiting for the chance to leap down his throat about them but somehow the essays Garatt handed him were never less than passable.


“Call him on it,” he said now, bluntly. “If he’s ill he’s old enough to take himself to a Healer. More likely he’s never been required to do a day’s proper work in his life and he’s suffering for it.”


T’ril frowned, ever so slightly. The kid didn’t strike him as that type. He struck him as someone who had bit off more than he could chew. Yet, Turns of working with M’ayen had conditioned him to not question the man too hard. His stabbing had also turned him into someone who was less secure in his own thoughts.


{{You’re an adult now, you can question who you want,}} Garanth said.


Well, fine, then. “Are you sure? He seems...cowed,” T’ril said, uncertainty hedging his voice.


M’ayen sighed. “The boy’s the only son of one of the big Holders,” he said. “If he’s cowed it’s because he’s not used to people not automatically letting home off. But if you’re not convinced, by all means, we’ll call him in you can ask him what he thought he was playing at and we can see.” And with M’ayen in the room, it was certain that would only go one way.


T’ril thought about it. Seriously thought about it. But there was some part of him that hesitated. 


Back in the day, he wouldn’t have hesitated a moment. After all, he was a bronze rider, and had Pern by the balls. But all that had changed, and he had become unsure, timid, careful. Maybe too much so. So, instead, he deferred to someone who wouldn’t steer him wrong.


“No, I think you’re right. If he’s the son of a Holder, then he’s too used to getting his way. I’ll give him extra work at his next class, teach him that he can’t be doing his homework while I’m trying to teach him.” He stood. “Kid’s got to learn, nothing’s going to be handed to him on a silver platter.”


“Talk to Talena and D’xon,” M’ayen advised. “I know they were struggling with him as well. Likelihood is he picked your class to catch up because he thought you’d go soft on him.”


“I will. Maybe together we can make an adequate candidate out of him yet,” T’ril said. “Meanwhile, I’ll talk to you later.” He grimaced. “These lesson plans won’t be planning themselves.”  He left M’ayen’s office, already thinking of extra work for incalcitrant candidates.


 



Re: Of Sound Mind? (Attn: Torrela/Namieh)

Laurie
 

"In a way," Torrela said. She did have a normal deck of cards with her, too. "This is a special deck of cards. I grew up in a Caravan, the daughter of fortune-tellers. But when I started to follow in their footsteps, I found that the images on our decks gave people insights into their own minds. So I took up mindhealing, but I use the cards to help me with my diagnosis." She continued to shuffle, then pulled one card out.

"Some mindhealers use ink blots. I find this to be more fun for both of us--the Healer and the patient. If it makes you uncomfortable, let me know and I'll go back to conventional methods.  And when we're done, I do have a normal deck of cards and we can play a few games."

She flipped the card over to show an old man in white walking away from a lone trader and his runner-cart., but he was looking back at it.  Firelizards flew up in the background. The trees in the card were gnarled and ambiguous as to some people they could look threatening but to others they were just winter trees.

image.png

OOC: I'm using Lisa Hunt's "Ghosts and Spirits" tarot.  Mainly because I'm going to be working on a ghost story in the Three-Day Novella contest.  

The card is the King of Pentacles/Coins. I like doing a combination using the pictures to enhance my readings, rather than just straight using the book meanings. I probably wouldn't have used this deck but when I pulled this card, to me it was a perfect jumping off point for Namieh. 

The general key words for this card are: Enterprising, Adept, Reliable, Supporting, Steady

In Lisa's Little White Book for the deck, the meaning of this card is: Someone may enter your life who can offer you comfort and stability as you experience a possible transition.



On Sun, Aug 23, 2020 at 3:47 AM Ariel Rogers <ariel.aurora.rogers@...> wrote:
"They might have said something about that," she gave the neutral answer with a small, uncertain frown. If they had, she didn't remember it or hadn't been paying attention - not that it mattered now. 

At the sight of playing cards, Namieh visibly perked. She missed her own deck dearly while in effective solitary. To see the Mindhealer shuffling a set casually made the girl tilt her head like a puppy surprised by an unfamiliar sound, unable to hide the physical manifestation of her curiosty. 

"Do you wanna play?" She asked with a hopeful note. 

On Sat, Aug 22, 2020, 8:50 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Well, now they were getting somewhere. Though there still seemed to be some hesitation. And what did she mean, she could go anywhere? But more importantly, were they not being taught properly?

"Had the Candidate Masters not told your class that the eggs were still too fragile to be touch?" Torrela asked. She pulled out her cards and started to riffle them. In order to get some answers, she would need some insight into her mind, and the cards would take her there quicker than all these questions. 


On Sun, Aug 23, 2020 at 12:24 AM Ariel Rogers <ariel.aurora.rogers@...> wrote:
Namieh swallowed hard at the question, though part of her couldn't help but to appreciate that she cut right to business. Despite a healthy dose of wariness, there didn't seem to be a reason to keep up the charade anymore. The effort was exhausting, but so were most things while she was recovering. "I.. I'd heard that you could rig a Hatching in your favor if you touched the eggs," she answered with the quiet reservation, fussing with the hem of her gown while her eyes focused there. "If I had a dragon, I.. I could go anywhere. Be anyone. Weyrwoman even."  There was clearly more to this reason, but she hesitated to elaborate.

On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 7:56 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Torrela was amused at the girl's distrust. Not the amused of blatant superiority, but the amused as if she were sharing a secret. It was obvious this girl wasn't going to give her full trust to anyone, but that was fine. Because Torrela could wait. She was in the Weyr, and it would take a Wing of dragons to move her back out.

"Trust me, even if you'd never seen a mindhealer in your life, you'll know how unconventional I am. But, before I even start, want to tell me just why you went running off to touch the eggs? Why you couldn't wait until the whole class was led down to them?" If she told her, great. If not, it would come out eventually.


On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 8:59 PM Ariel Rogers <ariel.aurora.rogers@...> wrote:
"I do not want to be yelled at," Nami replied flatly. She had a hunch there would be plenty of that in her future as it was and she hadn't a doubt in her mind that it would come sooner than she liked; her heart raced uneasily with anticipation. She watched the other woman with suspicious eyes, a blatantly untrusting sort of girl if ever there was one. Hearing about Mindhealers was entirely different from interacting with them, but fancy, learned folked were all the same in her view. They had always seemed to have a habit of making Namieh feel less than for her upbringing, for her heritage, for her gender. At least here at the Weyr they were more open minded, from what little she'd seen so far. 

"I've never talked to one of you before," she admitted more casually than she felt. Torrela was not immediately threatening and after her warning, Nami's interest piqued. "So I dunno if I'd even notice." With a pause in the pretense of consideration, though she'd already decided, the girl added with an affected sigh. "You can come in." 

On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 6:11 AM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
"Not unless you want me to," Torrela said. "I'm Torrela, Mindhealer. I thought that you may want to just talk without any judgement." She waved her hand to encompass the whole Weyr. "There are enough people out there judging you, talking about you, even blaming you that I think you need someone non-judgemental." And Torrela was all that. She spent her whole career learning to not judge people. Granted, there were those that she couldn't help it, but this slip of a girl? She wasn't bad, or evil. She just went about doing something the wrong way, and had to learn that actions had far-reaching consequences.

And it seemed that she had. Her lesson had been painful, brutal, and would haunt her for the rest of her life. Which, in Torrela's mind, seemed a bit too much. 

"I must warn you, I'm not like other Mindhealers. Something you may find interesting, or you may find scary."


On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 12:25 AM Ariel Rogers <ariel.aurora.rogers@...> wrote:
Namieh looked up from where she sat in bed at the unexpected visitor, surprised to meet someone who hadn't been in the rotation of Healers tending to her injuries. While she was eager for conversation, after Asheran's confrontation, she felt wary and apprehensive about a stranger. 

"I guess that depends," the girl answered. "You here to yell at me?"

On Thu, Aug 20, 2020, 2:29 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Torrela had wanted to go speak with the Candidate who endangered the eggs right away, but hadn't. Mainly because the girl had been on pain medications and if the mindhealer were going to work with her, she wanted her to at least be coherent. So she waited several days for the fog to clear, then one day peeked into the girl's--she looked at the chart, Namieh--alcove.

"Hello. Are you up for some company?" Torrela asked.


Re: Of Sound Mind? (Attn: Torrela/Namieh)

 

"They might have said something about that," she gave the neutral answer with a small, uncertain frown. If they had, she didn't remember it or hadn't been paying attention - not that it mattered now. 

At the sight of playing cards, Namieh visibly perked. She missed her own deck dearly while in effective solitary. To see the Mindhealer shuffling a set casually made the girl tilt her head like a puppy surprised by an unfamiliar sound, unable to hide the physical manifestation of her curiosty. 

"Do you wanna play?" She asked with a hopeful note. 


On Sat, Aug 22, 2020, 8:50 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Well, now they were getting somewhere. Though there still seemed to be some hesitation. And what did she mean, she could go anywhere? But more importantly, were they not being taught properly?

"Had the Candidate Masters not told your class that the eggs were still too fragile to be touch?" Torrela asked. She pulled out her cards and started to riffle them. In order to get some answers, she would need some insight into her mind, and the cards would take her there quicker than all these questions. 


On Sun, Aug 23, 2020 at 12:24 AM Ariel Rogers <ariel.aurora.rogers@...> wrote:
Namieh swallowed hard at the question, though part of her couldn't help but to appreciate that she cut right to business. Despite a healthy dose of wariness, there didn't seem to be a reason to keep up the charade anymore. The effort was exhausting, but so were most things while she was recovering. "I.. I'd heard that you could rig a Hatching in your favor if you touched the eggs," she answered with the quiet reservation, fussing with the hem of her gown while her eyes focused there. "If I had a dragon, I.. I could go anywhere. Be anyone. Weyrwoman even."  There was clearly more to this reason, but she hesitated to elaborate.

On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 7:56 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Torrela was amused at the girl's distrust. Not the amused of blatant superiority, but the amused as if she were sharing a secret. It was obvious this girl wasn't going to give her full trust to anyone, but that was fine. Because Torrela could wait. She was in the Weyr, and it would take a Wing of dragons to move her back out.

"Trust me, even if you'd never seen a mindhealer in your life, you'll know how unconventional I am. But, before I even start, want to tell me just why you went running off to touch the eggs? Why you couldn't wait until the whole class was led down to them?" If she told her, great. If not, it would come out eventually.


On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 8:59 PM Ariel Rogers <ariel.aurora.rogers@...> wrote:
"I do not want to be yelled at," Nami replied flatly. She had a hunch there would be plenty of that in her future as it was and she hadn't a doubt in her mind that it would come sooner than she liked; her heart raced uneasily with anticipation. She watched the other woman with suspicious eyes, a blatantly untrusting sort of girl if ever there was one. Hearing about Mindhealers was entirely different from interacting with them, but fancy, learned folked were all the same in her view. They had always seemed to have a habit of making Namieh feel less than for her upbringing, for her heritage, for her gender. At least here at the Weyr they were more open minded, from what little she'd seen so far. 

"I've never talked to one of you before," she admitted more casually than she felt. Torrela was not immediately threatening and after her warning, Nami's interest piqued. "So I dunno if I'd even notice." With a pause in the pretense of consideration, though she'd already decided, the girl added with an affected sigh. "You can come in." 

On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 6:11 AM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
"Not unless you want me to," Torrela said. "I'm Torrela, Mindhealer. I thought that you may want to just talk without any judgement." She waved her hand to encompass the whole Weyr. "There are enough people out there judging you, talking about you, even blaming you that I think you need someone non-judgemental." And Torrela was all that. She spent her whole career learning to not judge people. Granted, there were those that she couldn't help it, but this slip of a girl? She wasn't bad, or evil. She just went about doing something the wrong way, and had to learn that actions had far-reaching consequences.

And it seemed that she had. Her lesson had been painful, brutal, and would haunt her for the rest of her life. Which, in Torrela's mind, seemed a bit too much. 

"I must warn you, I'm not like other Mindhealers. Something you may find interesting, or you may find scary."


On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 12:25 AM Ariel Rogers <ariel.aurora.rogers@...> wrote:
Namieh looked up from where she sat in bed at the unexpected visitor, surprised to meet someone who hadn't been in the rotation of Healers tending to her injuries. While she was eager for conversation, after Asheran's confrontation, she felt wary and apprehensive about a stranger. 

"I guess that depends," the girl answered. "You here to yell at me?"

On Thu, Aug 20, 2020, 2:29 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Torrela had wanted to go speak with the Candidate who endangered the eggs right away, but hadn't. Mainly because the girl had been on pain medications and if the mindhealer were going to work with her, she wanted her to at least be coherent. So she waited several days for the fog to clear, then one day peeked into the girl's--she looked at the chart, Namieh--alcove.

"Hello. Are you up for some company?" Torrela asked.


Re: She's Always Like This ((Attn: S'nen, F'nel))

Steelsilver
 

Sekerth put a wing over Lileth, and began to gently nibble the itchy spots on her neck ridges once more. ((Yours is very loud.)) He told her. ((Is he always?))

 "Stop screaming. No one's done anything." S'nen snapped, unknowingly echoing Sekerth. "Unless you want the attention of the entire Weyr?"

Without waiting for F'nel's reply, he stepped forward towards his brown, his expression hard, cold even. "Sekerth. Leave her and come." 


Re: Of Sound Mind? (Attn: Torrela/Namieh)

Laurie
 

Well, now they were getting somewhere. Though there still seemed to be some hesitation. And what did she mean, she could go anywhere? But more importantly, were they not being taught properly?

"Had the Candidate Masters not told your class that the eggs were still too fragile to be touch?" Torrela asked. She pulled out her cards and started to riffle them. In order to get some answers, she would need some insight into her mind, and the cards would take her there quicker than all these questions. 


On Sun, Aug 23, 2020 at 12:24 AM Ariel Rogers <ariel.aurora.rogers@...> wrote:
Namieh swallowed hard at the question, though part of her couldn't help but to appreciate that she cut right to business. Despite a healthy dose of wariness, there didn't seem to be a reason to keep up the charade anymore. The effort was exhausting, but so were most things while she was recovering. "I.. I'd heard that you could rig a Hatching in your favor if you touched the eggs," she answered with the quiet reservation, fussing with the hem of her gown while her eyes focused there. "If I had a dragon, I.. I could go anywhere. Be anyone. Weyrwoman even."  There was clearly more to this reason, but she hesitated to elaborate.

On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 7:56 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Torrela was amused at the girl's distrust. Not the amused of blatant superiority, but the amused as if she were sharing a secret. It was obvious this girl wasn't going to give her full trust to anyone, but that was fine. Because Torrela could wait. She was in the Weyr, and it would take a Wing of dragons to move her back out.

"Trust me, even if you'd never seen a mindhealer in your life, you'll know how unconventional I am. But, before I even start, want to tell me just why you went running off to touch the eggs? Why you couldn't wait until the whole class was led down to them?" If she told her, great. If not, it would come out eventually.


On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 8:59 PM Ariel Rogers <ariel.aurora.rogers@...> wrote:
"I do not want to be yelled at," Nami replied flatly. She had a hunch there would be plenty of that in her future as it was and she hadn't a doubt in her mind that it would come sooner than she liked; her heart raced uneasily with anticipation. She watched the other woman with suspicious eyes, a blatantly untrusting sort of girl if ever there was one. Hearing about Mindhealers was entirely different from interacting with them, but fancy, learned folked were all the same in her view. They had always seemed to have a habit of making Namieh feel less than for her upbringing, for her heritage, for her gender. At least here at the Weyr they were more open minded, from what little she'd seen so far. 

"I've never talked to one of you before," she admitted more casually than she felt. Torrela was not immediately threatening and after her warning, Nami's interest piqued. "So I dunno if I'd even notice." With a pause in the pretense of consideration, though she'd already decided, the girl added with an affected sigh. "You can come in." 

On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 6:11 AM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
"Not unless you want me to," Torrela said. "I'm Torrela, Mindhealer. I thought that you may want to just talk without any judgement." She waved her hand to encompass the whole Weyr. "There are enough people out there judging you, talking about you, even blaming you that I think you need someone non-judgemental." And Torrela was all that. She spent her whole career learning to not judge people. Granted, there were those that she couldn't help it, but this slip of a girl? She wasn't bad, or evil. She just went about doing something the wrong way, and had to learn that actions had far-reaching consequences.

And it seemed that she had. Her lesson had been painful, brutal, and would haunt her for the rest of her life. Which, in Torrela's mind, seemed a bit too much. 

"I must warn you, I'm not like other Mindhealers. Something you may find interesting, or you may find scary."


On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 12:25 AM Ariel Rogers <ariel.aurora.rogers@...> wrote:
Namieh looked up from where she sat in bed at the unexpected visitor, surprised to meet someone who hadn't been in the rotation of Healers tending to her injuries. While she was eager for conversation, after Asheran's confrontation, she felt wary and apprehensive about a stranger. 

"I guess that depends," the girl answered. "You here to yell at me?"

On Thu, Aug 20, 2020, 2:29 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Torrela had wanted to go speak with the Candidate who endangered the eggs right away, but hadn't. Mainly because the girl had been on pain medications and if the mindhealer were going to work with her, she wanted her to at least be coherent. So she waited several days for the fog to clear, then one day peeked into the girl's--she looked at the chart, Namieh--alcove.

"Hello. Are you up for some company?" Torrela asked.


Can you do something? (SA Mendl/Larsin)

Laurie
 

Mendl awoke and for a moment wondered where she was. Then she heard a whuffling and realized she was in Dytha's weyr. And the memory of the previous evening came crashing down on her.

Quietly she arose. It seemed that the small dose of fellis kept Dytha sleeping, and Ponth hadn't moved from her position last night. The only thing she had to worry about was explaining to the Candidate Masters why she missed curfew. Well, that she could fix right away. That, and asking Larsin to talk to the Weyrwoman.

Giving a longing look at the alcove where Dytha's personal bathing pool was, Mendl silently crept out of the weyr and trotted over to the Dragon Infirmary, and knocked on Master Larsin's door.

"Come," Larsin barked.

Mendl crept in. "I need your advice," she began.

"What happened to you? You look like you slept in those clothes," Larsin snapped. "When you work here, you should always look presentable." He glared at her, and she stood there with downcast eyes.

He huffed. "Stop looking like a beaten canine. You're normally professional, so something happened."

Mendl nodded. "It's Dytha sir. Ponth rose yesterday. And I spent all evening tending to Ponth's and Dytha's wounds. Lucily Ponth didn't need too many stitches, but she's not going to be able to fly for a while. And Dytha's going to be sporting some pretty bad scars..." She trailed off at the look of utter disbelief and anger on Larsin's face.

"One of my apprentices was damaged during a mating flight, and you're only coming to me now?" he said.

"Only because I felt it was more important to tend to their injuries than to go telling the whole Weyr that a bad flight had happened," Mendl snapped.

Larsin stared at her, and she stared back. They stood like that for several minutes until she broke and looked at the ground. "Sorry," she mumbled. 

"So, you're telling me that Dytha may not be here for a few days?"

Mendl nodded. "And, can you say something to the Weyrwoman? I don't think a flight like that should be allowed to happen."

"Do you know who it was?"

"Just the dragon's name. Travath." It was burned in her memory. "He came forward from SEF Weyr."

Larsin nodded, and paced the room. Mendl stood there waiting for him to say he would go talk to the Weyrwoman. 

"You go."

"What?"

"You go tell Kassia. I've got a few things I need to do today. But you should go talk to her. But go clean yourself up, first." He went back to his desk and wrote something out on a strip of hide. "And give this to Nayari, so you don't get in trouble for last night."

Mendl nodded, though she didn't know why he wanted her to go talk to the Weyrwoman. Though Larsin could be gruff at times. She grabbed the note and ran out of his office, heading to the Candidate Barracks to do a quick washup and change. And hope that her footlocker hadn't been permanently locked.




Re: Of Sound Mind? (Attn: Torrela/Namieh)

 

Namieh swallowed hard at the question, though part of her couldn't help but to appreciate that she cut right to business. Despite a healthy dose of wariness, there didn't seem to be a reason to keep up the charade anymore. The effort was exhausting, but so were most things while she was recovering. "I.. I'd heard that you could rig a Hatching in your favor if you touched the eggs," she answered with the quiet reservation, fussing with the hem of her gown while her eyes focused there. "If I had a dragon, I.. I could go anywhere. Be anyone. Weyrwoman even."  There was clearly more to this reason, but she hesitated to elaborate.


On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 7:56 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Torrela was amused at the girl's distrust. Not the amused of blatant superiority, but the amused as if she were sharing a secret. It was obvious this girl wasn't going to give her full trust to anyone, but that was fine. Because Torrela could wait. She was in the Weyr, and it would take a Wing of dragons to move her back out.

"Trust me, even if you'd never seen a mindhealer in your life, you'll know how unconventional I am. But, before I even start, want to tell me just why you went running off to touch the eggs? Why you couldn't wait until the whole class was led down to them?" If she told her, great. If not, it would come out eventually.


On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 8:59 PM Ariel Rogers <ariel.aurora.rogers@...> wrote:
"I do not want to be yelled at," Nami replied flatly. She had a hunch there would be plenty of that in her future as it was and she hadn't a doubt in her mind that it would come sooner than she liked; her heart raced uneasily with anticipation. She watched the other woman with suspicious eyes, a blatantly untrusting sort of girl if ever there was one. Hearing about Mindhealers was entirely different from interacting with them, but fancy, learned folked were all the same in her view. They had always seemed to have a habit of making Namieh feel less than for her upbringing, for her heritage, for her gender. At least here at the Weyr they were more open minded, from what little she'd seen so far. 

"I've never talked to one of you before," she admitted more casually than she felt. Torrela was not immediately threatening and after her warning, Nami's interest piqued. "So I dunno if I'd even notice." With a pause in the pretense of consideration, though she'd already decided, the girl added with an affected sigh. "You can come in." 

On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 6:11 AM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
"Not unless you want me to," Torrela said. "I'm Torrela, Mindhealer. I thought that you may want to just talk without any judgement." She waved her hand to encompass the whole Weyr. "There are enough people out there judging you, talking about you, even blaming you that I think you need someone non-judgemental." And Torrela was all that. She spent her whole career learning to not judge people. Granted, there were those that she couldn't help it, but this slip of a girl? She wasn't bad, or evil. She just went about doing something the wrong way, and had to learn that actions had far-reaching consequences.

And it seemed that she had. Her lesson had been painful, brutal, and would haunt her for the rest of her life. Which, in Torrela's mind, seemed a bit too much. 

"I must warn you, I'm not like other Mindhealers. Something you may find interesting, or you may find scary."


On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 12:25 AM Ariel Rogers <ariel.aurora.rogers@...> wrote:
Namieh looked up from where she sat in bed at the unexpected visitor, surprised to meet someone who hadn't been in the rotation of Healers tending to her injuries. While she was eager for conversation, after Asheran's confrontation, she felt wary and apprehensive about a stranger. 

"I guess that depends," the girl answered. "You here to yell at me?"

On Thu, Aug 20, 2020, 2:29 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Torrela had wanted to go speak with the Candidate who endangered the eggs right away, but hadn't. Mainly because the girl had been on pain medications and if the mindhealer were going to work with her, she wanted her to at least be coherent. So she waited several days for the fog to clear, then one day peeked into the girl's--she looked at the chart, Namieh--alcove.

"Hello. Are you up for some company?" Torrela asked.


Re: Of Sound Mind? (Attn: Torrela/Namieh)

Laurie
 

Torrela was amused at the girl's distrust. Not the amused of blatant superiority, but the amused as if she were sharing a secret. It was obvious this girl wasn't going to give her full trust to anyone, but that was fine. Because Torrela could wait. She was in the Weyr, and it would take a Wing of dragons to move her back out.

"Trust me, even if you'd never seen a mindhealer in your life, you'll know how unconventional I am. But, before I even start, want to tell me just why you went running off to touch the eggs? Why you couldn't wait until the whole class was led down to them?" If she told her, great. If not, it would come out eventually.


On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 8:59 PM Ariel Rogers <ariel.aurora.rogers@...> wrote:
"I do not want to be yelled at," Nami replied flatly. She had a hunch there would be plenty of that in her future as it was and she hadn't a doubt in her mind that it would come sooner than she liked; her heart raced uneasily with anticipation. She watched the other woman with suspicious eyes, a blatantly untrusting sort of girl if ever there was one. Hearing about Mindhealers was entirely different from interacting with them, but fancy, learned folked were all the same in her view. They had always seemed to have a habit of making Namieh feel less than for her upbringing, for her heritage, for her gender. At least here at the Weyr they were more open minded, from what little she'd seen so far. 

"I've never talked to one of you before," she admitted more casually than she felt. Torrela was not immediately threatening and after her warning, Nami's interest piqued. "So I dunno if I'd even notice." With a pause in the pretense of consideration, though she'd already decided, the girl added with an affected sigh. "You can come in." 

On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 6:11 AM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
"Not unless you want me to," Torrela said. "I'm Torrela, Mindhealer. I thought that you may want to just talk without any judgement." She waved her hand to encompass the whole Weyr. "There are enough people out there judging you, talking about you, even blaming you that I think you need someone non-judgemental." And Torrela was all that. She spent her whole career learning to not judge people. Granted, there were those that she couldn't help it, but this slip of a girl? She wasn't bad, or evil. She just went about doing something the wrong way, and had to learn that actions had far-reaching consequences.

And it seemed that she had. Her lesson had been painful, brutal, and would haunt her for the rest of her life. Which, in Torrela's mind, seemed a bit too much. 

"I must warn you, I'm not like other Mindhealers. Something you may find interesting, or you may find scary."


On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 12:25 AM Ariel Rogers <ariel.aurora.rogers@...> wrote:
Namieh looked up from where she sat in bed at the unexpected visitor, surprised to meet someone who hadn't been in the rotation of Healers tending to her injuries. While she was eager for conversation, after Asheran's confrontation, she felt wary and apprehensive about a stranger. 

"I guess that depends," the girl answered. "You here to yell at me?"

On Thu, Aug 20, 2020, 2:29 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Torrela had wanted to go speak with the Candidate who endangered the eggs right away, but hadn't. Mainly because the girl had been on pain medications and if the mindhealer were going to work with her, she wanted her to at least be coherent. So she waited several days for the fog to clear, then one day peeked into the girl's--she looked at the chart, Namieh--alcove.

"Hello. Are you up for some company?" Torrela asked.


Re: Harper Delivery (Intro post Attn: Searchrider, any)

Ren
 

Seisilth was sunning on the sands after a bath, hide a bit brighter than usual under the fresh coat of oil Vofali and the candidates she'd recruited had just applied. The green stretched and yawned before she felt the familiar tingle at the corner of her mind. Seisilth looked around for the source and found it in the blue-clad Harper walking to the Haven. Definitely her.

{{Hello,}} the green called out. {{I am Seisilth of Vofali. I haven't felt you before, are you new to the Weyr? It's a lovely place with dragons like me. Who are you?}}
--
Out of the fire comes new life. Telgar Rises!

Are you afraid of the dark? Come play in the Shadow...


Harper Delivery (Intro post Attn: Searchrider, any)

spiritwolf0963
 

 Lyreina looked out at the water as she urged the black runner along the well worn path to the weyr, watching the dragons flying high above her, dark eyes sparkling with excitement.Pausing for a moment, she dismounted and stretched, before remounting and continuing her trip.
   She had been at the Crafthall for several years but had managed to be out on errands every time they had riders stop by and this would be her first trip to the weyr to deliver some newly copied teaching scores to the creche.
   As the path turned and began to climb toward the weyr entrance she smiled slightly, whistling the tune that she had been working on under her breath as she enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her bare arms, the runnertail she had pulled her hair into brushing against the middle of her back, the red strands reflecting the sun like a fall of fire.
  As she drew closer to the weyr itself her attention was pulled to a pair of brown dragons darting and swooping through the clear sky, obviously enjoying themselves. Sighing she guided the runner into the tunnel mouth in front of her, her eyes barely becoming adjusted to the semi darkness before she exited into the weyr itself, a large expanse of green extending out in front of her, sloping down to a large lake in the center. Remembering the directions she had been given she headed toward the stables, where she dismounted and handed over the reins of her mount before brushing off the blue dyed hide of her vest and pants and heading to the Haven, the two hide wrapped scores carried carefully in a leather pouch.
  


Re: Of Sound Mind? (Attn: Torrela/Namieh)

 

"I do not want to be yelled at," Nami replied flatly. She had a hunch there would be plenty of that in her future as it was and she hadn't a doubt in her mind that it would come sooner than she liked; her heart raced uneasily with anticipation. She watched the other woman with suspicious eyes, a blatantly untrusting sort of girl if ever there was one. Hearing about Mindhealers was entirely different from interacting with them, but fancy, learned folked were all the same in her view. They had always seemed to have a habit of making Namieh feel less than for her upbringing, for her heritage, for her gender. At least here at the Weyr they were more open minded, from what little she'd seen so far. 

"I've never talked to one of you before," she admitted more casually than she felt. Torrela was not immediately threatening and after her warning, Nami's interest piqued. "So I dunno if I'd even notice." With a pause in the pretense of consideration, though she'd already decided, the girl added with an affected sigh. "You can come in." 

On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 6:11 AM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
"Not unless you want me to," Torrela said. "I'm Torrela, Mindhealer. I thought that you may want to just talk without any judgement." She waved her hand to encompass the whole Weyr. "There are enough people out there judging you, talking about you, even blaming you that I think you need someone non-judgemental." And Torrela was all that. She spent her whole career learning to not judge people. Granted, there were those that she couldn't help it, but this slip of a girl? She wasn't bad, or evil. She just went about doing something the wrong way, and had to learn that actions had far-reaching consequences.

And it seemed that she had. Her lesson had been painful, brutal, and would haunt her for the rest of her life. Which, in Torrela's mind, seemed a bit too much. 

"I must warn you, I'm not like other Mindhealers. Something you may find interesting, or you may find scary."


On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 12:25 AM Ariel Rogers <ariel.aurora.rogers@...> wrote:
Namieh looked up from where she sat in bed at the unexpected visitor, surprised to meet someone who hadn't been in the rotation of Healers tending to her injuries. While she was eager for conversation, after Asheran's confrontation, she felt wary and apprehensive about a stranger. 

"I guess that depends," the girl answered. "You here to yell at me?"

On Thu, Aug 20, 2020, 2:29 PM Laurie <Laurie.Lynne@...> wrote:
Torrela had wanted to go speak with the Candidate who endangered the eggs right away, but hadn't. Mainly because the girl had been on pain medications and if the mindhealer were going to work with her, she wanted her to at least be coherent. So she waited several days for the fog to clear, then one day peeked into the girl's--she looked at the chart, Namieh--alcove.

"Hello. Are you up for some company?" Torrela asked.


Re: This Will Not Stand Att: T'ryn/M'ayen

Jerzy Tobin
 

"Lennaye is your daughter?" He hadn't thought the man was old enough, but then Wingleaders looked younger and younger of late.

He only half-listened to the lecture on what T'ryn found acceptable. Really the matter had been resolved the moment T'ryn claimed Lennaye as his own.

"Fine," he said calmly, once the man paused for breath. "I'll ease off her. But talk to her about paying attention."
T'ryn blinked, caught off guard by the agreement to ease up on
Lennaye. He'd expected a fight, actually, and to not get one had him
reeling a bit. But, he'd take the victory handed to him.

"I assure you, I have, and will do so again, just to make sure it
sticks. Thank you for your time, ACM M'ayen."

--
"Life is NOT a journey to the grave with the goal of arriving safely
in a prettily preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways in a
shower of gravel and party shards, thoroughly used, utterly exhausted,
and loudly proclaiming: "F*** ME, that Rocked!!" -unknown

Whizzy: Jerzy
Aim: Yue146


Re: This Will Not Stand Att: T'ryn/M'ayen

Laura Walker
 

"Lennaye is your daughter?" He hadn't thought the man was old enough, but then Wingleaders looked younger and younger of late.

He only half-listened to the lecture on what T'ryn found acceptable. Really the matter had been resolved the moment T'ryn claimed Lennaye as his own.

"Fine," he said calmly, once the man paused for breath. "I'll ease off her. But talk to her about paying attention."

On Sat, Aug 22, 2020 at 10:07 PM Jerzy Tobin <jerzytobin@...> wrote:
M'ayen was honestly surprised by that, and his face showed it. Of all the people he'd expected the Candidates to go complaining to a Wingleader was not amongst them.

"Garatt, is it?" he said after a startled pause, already readying his arguments for defence.

"No, Lennaye," T'ryn quickly clarified.  "My daughter."  

She had mentioned that she hadn't been the only candidate punished, but she hadn't specified who the others had been, or what had been done to them.  Given that it was M'ayen, he had some inkling of ideas as to what that could entail, but she had stressed that he hadn't actually laid a hand on them...yet.

"I am of the opinion that your so called punishment was far more than excessive for someone caught doodling.  Especially since, given all other reports of her classes and classwork, she's doing quite well.  She is young, and I will more than grant that she was in the wrong, but forcing her to stand at the front of a class holding a book out in front of her for the rest of the class was unnecessary.  Calling her out, having her apologize in front of the class, writing an extra essay or lines, those would have been enough.  But I am very seriously tempted to take this incident up with the Candidate Master if this is the way you intend to keep discipline here.  I will *not* have my daughter scared off from having a chance at Impressing, and I will *not* have her too terrified to actually confide in or learn from her teachers, something your methods are in fact likely to cause." 
 

--
"Life is NOT a journey to the grave with the goal of arriving safely in a prettily preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways in a shower of gravel and party shards, thoroughly used, utterly exhausted, and loudly proclaiming: "F*** ME, that Rocked!!" -unknown

Whizzy: Jerzy
Aim: Yue146



--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.


I need your help, but I need you to be discreet. (JP Dytha/Mendl)

Laurie
 

IC Date Reference: Set immediately after the events of Greenflight: A dastardly concoction of intent”.



By the time she finally awoke, the hot afternoon was beginning to shift into the cooler evening. The room was quiet and empty. Clearly no one had come in yet to clean it. The throbbing bite of gnawing pain was almost immediately apparent as she carefully sat up. But none of that mattered. Her thoughts scrabbled immediately to Ponth, probing for the green’s whereabouts.


(( He isn’t here! )) Came the plaintive wail, filled with misery. (( Neither of them are! I looked and couldn’t find them! )) 


Oh… shells. No, no they weren’t. He had told her only the day before. R’bor and Vukoth had gone to High Reaches for several days for a training regime he had been invited to take part in. It had been something right up his alley and he had been desperate to go. She had reassured him they would be fine. )) Shh, dearest. It’s okay. Where are you now? ((


(( I was able to get away… eventually. It made me hurt. And Vukoth wasn’t here. So I came home… ))


((I’m coming dear one, can you call Mendl for me? Tell her to meet us there. Be patient for me, I’ll be as quick as I can. (( With a grimace, she pulled her shirt back on, wincing at the scrapes on her spine from the wall’s rough surface. She wanted to sprint across the Weyr as fast as she could, but all she would be able to manage was a pained hobble. Already she could feel that the side of her mouth was beginning to swell. She would send Mimsi for ice, but first, Ponth.


The green was curled in a small ball of miserable hide on her ledge as Hers bespoke and reassured her. Many of the lacerations about her shoulders and flanks had reopened as she struggled away from the blue, dribbles of ichor standing out in macabre fashion against her dark hide. Her wings still ached and her neck was sore from where the blue had wrapped his own about her to keep her from struggling. When she reached out to the Candidate, her normally buoyant voice was as close to a sob as a dragon could muster. (( Mend-a-lee, you must come. Mine says you must come to our ledge and help us! ))


It felt as though it had taken an age, but finally she was climbing the familar tunnel to her own weyr. Heedless of her own pain, of the bone deep throbbing that felt as though it covered her from head to foot, of the sharp spikes of pain with every step that pierced her feet, Dytha went immediately to Ponth, cradling the dark green head as it was thrust into her arms with a mournful bugle “Tell me where it hurts, darling, we need to take care of you first.”


(( Everywhere… )) Came the miserable voice. (( It hurts… everywhere… ))


Mendl’s head jerked up at Ponth’s call. Something was wrong, something bad. Eysis shrieked and went between, hearing Ponth in Mendl’s head. If the dragonhealer had been unsure before, about anything wrong, well now there was no doubt. Even her little green knew something was wrong.


Quickly she gathered healing supplies. Maybe she wouldn’t need them, but better safe than sorry. At least Ponth was relatively small for a dragon, but she still stuffed loads of items into her knapsack. Eysis came back and looked approvingly on. She must have gone to check on the green.


It felt like it took her forever to get to Dytha’s weyr, and when she did she gasped. Both rider and dragon looked like they’d been attacked. Who would do this to them? Why? How?


“Who the feck did this to you?” she said, normally medium-range voice gutteral in anger. She immediately got a bucket of water from Dytha’s bathing pool--still showing signs of a recent bath--and got water to wash Ponth’s many wounds. 


Dytha barely looked up at Mendl’s arrival. It couldn’t be anyone else. No one else knew she was there. Still cradling Ponth’s head her arms, she rubbed the green’s eyeridges, trying to soothe the dragon as best she could. “Bastard feckin’ bluerider,” she growled, pressing her cheek to Ponth’s hide. “I’ll explain in a bit. I don’t want Ponth going to the Infirmary. Too many questions. I need…” Dytha paused, her breath shuddering free from her. “I need you to help me clean her up as best we can. I don’t think she’ll need real stitching, maybe some minor suturing…” The green’s pained groans made her wince. “Feckin’ flights.” It was a bitter growl of sound but the dismay was written all over her face.


Shards, she didn’t know where her own pain ended and Ponth’s began. Her mind itself felt as though it were throbbing with the blurred lines. She didn’t remember it being like this since Ponth had been a small hatchling and had been unconsciously reflecting her own pain back at her. 


“I’ve brought enough supplies that I can get her mostly patched up now,” Mendl said, adding some redwort to the water. Redwort and water to clean, redwort and numbweed to help with the pain. But she needed to clean the ichor off to see how bad the lesions and abrasions...feck it all to the Star, those were fecking puncture wounds! What kind of dragon did this? 


A dragon belonging to a psychopathic rider, a little voice inside her said. Too bad the dragon couldn’t be reassigned to another person. 


“It looks like most of the bleeding has stopped,” she said, gently wiping away the ichor stains. “But I’m going to need to pack these puncture wounds--those are the most likely to get infected.” She knew she’d have to minister to Dytha once she was done with Ponth. 


“Where was Vukoth? I thought he could easily fly Ponth, despite his size?” As with most beastcrafters--whether for dragons or for animals, she knew the dragon before knowing the rider.


(( I didn’t choose him, ))  Came the mournful voice, audible to Mendl as well as Dytha. (( He wouldn’t let go… ))


“Hush dearling, it’s not your fault. You flew as best you could…” Dytha looked up from Ponth and sighed. It was a sigh filled with regret. “He’s at High Reaches. Some training regime he was invited on and wants to talk to Nayari about implementing with the Candidates here… I was sure it would be fine. Shells, I encouraged him to go because he was looking forward to it. I completely forgot when it all started… Only one blasted thing was on my mind but I was still so sure that I could swing it the moment I saw him in the room.”


It was clear that the “him” was not R’bor but rather the mysterious bluerider responsible. Dytha shifted and unwillingly hissed as needle-like pain speared into the worse foot. “Tell me what you need help with. I’ve got a healthy stash of numbweed of my own as well as additional gauzes. From my own kit for my feet but I’m sure we can improvise.” The knot of guilt was growing in the pit of her stomach with every second her eyes stayed on her diminutive green. “I want you to talk to Mendl, Ponth, help her with where it hurts. Try to ignore what you feel from me.”


The hesitance she felt was interspersed with careful self probing from the green before she shivered with a despondent moan. (( I… I can’t tell! I hurt in so many places… It’s too many! ))


“Hush… hush, it’s all right. We’ll go over every inch of you if we need to, my darling. You just try to rest and relax a little. You’re safe with me, now.” Even as her hands smoothed the dark hide, Dytha’s face was dark fury as she turned her eyes on Mendl. She could take bruises and bites and pain in places it was never meant to hurt. But Ponth didn’t have to. Shouldn’t have to. “The bastard enjoyed it. Feckin’ scum.”


“All right, Ponth, we’ll get you taken care of. Dytha, I’m going to look at you when I’m done with Ponth. As Cremsden so eloquently put it once, and I’m paraphrasing here, ‘wounds are wounds’.  But for now, I think your biggest problem is your feet, and you know how to best take care of those.”


She continued washing Ponth’s wounds, mentally cataloging them into “bad”, “worse”, “need stitches”. Luckily the “need stitches” category was relatively low. However, it concerned her that a dragon would inflict this much damage on another during a mating flight. She’d never had anyone come into the Infirmary this beat up. Sure, sometimes things happened; look at Foreth’s last flight. But usually those were few and far between. Here...she frowned.


“What’s this?” she muttered, washing the bite mark on Ponth’s neck. Had the blue tried to kill her? A dragon rogue enough to try and kill another dragon needed to be put down right away.


“Who was this bluerider, anyway?” she asked, forcing herself to be calm.


(( He did it so I would stop fighting him… ))  Ponth explained miserably as Mendl carefully probed the bite on her neck. (( Because he caught me. )) And even she knew the rules of the game. She flew, she was caught and that winner was just that, the winner. But the small gasp from Dytha had her own fingers flying to her neck, touching the bloodstains about her collar and turning her face away as she pulled at her shirt, pulled the collar away to expose the “matching” bite on the top of her own shoulder. “They did it at the end. Either the dragon influenced the man or… the man influenced the dragon…”


Deliberately, Dytha had been hesitant around answering Mendl’s question. How much did she want to tell her? But… Mendl was her friend. One of few at that. “He’s one of the Second Pass riders that stayed behind. Came forward from SEF. In a nutshell, that’s about all I know of him. Except the fact he’s a narrow-minded tunnelsnake who, for all his Weyr’s supposeded advancement thinks that these,” And here she gestured at her feet, clad for once in light slip-on shoes, shoes she had grabbed for ease in the heat of the moment. “Are signs of some sort of disease. Filth that I will pass to unsuspecting Riders.” 


Although her movement was limited, in the fading light of day she was able to take a good look at the aftermath wreaked on Ponth and it made the cold coil of guilt twist with raw and ugly anger. “Shells, I thought rough flights were only supposed to affect the Riders. No one said the dragons got involved!”


Mendl compressed her lips and took a couple breaths to keep herself calm. She continued washing Ponth. “I’m not a rider--not sure I ever will be--but mating flights seem to be tricky. On the one hand, the dragon chooses her mate. On the other, whatever is going on, the dragon and rider’s minds are allegedly thinking as one. So,” she hesitated as she thought of something, something that if said aloud, would put Dytha into a huge depression. “So all I can think is ‘like rider, like dragon’ and the dragon is as much a tunnelsnake as the rider is.” That, and she was going to keep a close eye on the dragon infirmary; ask all her friends if they’d had a blue SEF dragon come in with injuries.


“I can kind of see the puncture wounds. Kind of. But the rest...no.” She was done washing Ponth’s wounds and was now coating them with a numbweed/redwort mixture. “Are any of your muscles hurting also? I can put something on those, too,” she asked Ponth. “As well as your cloaca. I’m sure there’s some bruising there, right?”


“Wouldn’t surprise me if they were as bad as each other,” It was a snarl of sound and the angry downturn of her lips suggested that the same thought had already been in Dytha’s thoughts at some point or another. Another sigh, one that would be of many came and Dytha spoke again, this time to Ponth. “Dearling, do you think you could get up for us? Let Mendl and me take a good look at you all over? I know it hurts but we’re going to help take that away.” Even if she had to steal barrels of numbweed from the Infirmary herself and spend the night slathering every inch of the green with it.


With a grunt, Ponth carefully unfurled herself, whimpering as she did as muscles spasmed and complained against the motion. It seemed to take an age but the small green was up on her feet. With her head hanging low in Dytha’s arms, she more resembled a whipped cur than anyone’s idea of a ferocious dragon. (( My wings… because I tried to keep going and…. and…)) When the green spoke to them again, her lilting mind-voice seemed to be wracked with shame. (( … under my tail… It aches… ))


“Well, of course it aches under there,” Mendl said. “You even have some soreness after a good flight. But you just don’t feel it then, because the flight was good.”  She pulled out two large jars--one of numbweed salve, and one of concentrated wintergreen salve. 


“I’ll numbweed under your tail first. There’s willow salic mixed in with the numbweed in this jar; so it’ll take care of the pain and bring down the inflammation.” She ducked under the tail to look--it didn’t look like there were any abrasions, just the usual injuries if the flight had been incredibly rough. Though usually that was the only place that had issues, when the flight was rough. Mendl rolled her eyes. Just let her get her hands on that jerk!


“Then, I’ve got wintergreen salve for the wing muscles. I’ll leave the jar here--Dytha knows, a little goes a long way. It’ll feel cool at first, then it’ll burn, but the burn will also burn the ache away.” Call her crazy, but she loved the feeling. If she was on her feet for too long, she even put some on them.


“So is this guy in your Wing, also?” Mendl asked. She felt like she just couldn’t let it go, but she wanted as much information as she could get, just in case she could do something with it. Like accidentally push the guy off a cliff or something.


In a peculiar way, the matter of factness about it seemed to settle Ponth, only grunting in discomfort as Mendl tended to her. But already the gentle ministrations were doing their job, the soothing fingers of relief beginning to overtake the pain. The little green seemed to be slowly starting to relax, even just a little but not quite as tightly wound as she had been on Mendl’s arrival. (( Is that what Mine puts on her feet to take the burn away? She says it feels peculiar but oddly enjoyable… )) Pulling her head from Dytha, Ponth shyly fixed her gaze on Mendl. The whirling facets were less dominated by the orange and grey flecks of worry and pain and the frantic whirl was beginning to slow.


Dytha had chuckled softly at the curiosity in Ponth’s voice. It was better to hear than pain. “Yes dearling, it is. And you’ll get to see exactly why I like it.” At Mendl’s question, Dytha shook her head violently. “No, thank Faranth! His blue is about on par with SEF’s smallest browns. Something of a beast even by SEF’s standards. So he got assigned to one of the “regular” wings. Shells, I’ve barely run into the man more than a handful of times but he’s got an axe to grind.” Using Ponth for support, she gingerly moved along the length of the green, inspecting the claw marks around her neck and shoulders more carefully as she did. (( He rides Travath. That is all I know. And all I want to. )) The last was said more sulkily than anything, but it was more than Dytha knew. She wasn’t even sure of the bastard’s name, let alone his dragon’s.


Oooh, a name. Good. That was something. “Alright, here we go. This is what Dytha and I like. There are some men out there who cry because this burns, but I’ve never felt that,” Mendl said as she started to massage the wintergreen into Ponth’s wing muscles. “So if it hurts, let me know.” 


It even made her hands feel more energetic. A good thing, since even though Ponth was a small dragon, there was still a lot of musculature to cover.  


Still using Ponth as makeshift support, it wasn’t hard to make her way to Mendl’s side, dipping her fingers into the thick salve and beginning to apply it liberally to the bunched and hot muscles. Her feet and everything else could wait, would wait until she knew that Ponth’s pain was as relieved as it could be. At least for now. The green’s hide shivered under the salve and the green snorted in surprise as icy tendrils seeped into aching muscles, only to turn into fingers as hot as fire.


(( Ohhhh….! ))  She exclaimed, carefully turning her head to sniff at the ointment, only to snort in surprise as the scent made her nostrils prickle. She huffed and snorted, shaking her head  as though to shake the sensation out of her nose. (( It doesn’t hurt it feels… it feels.... I don’t know how to say how it feels. But hurt is not part of that. )) Dytha rolled her eyes at Mendl. “And that is probably as much as an explanation as you’re going to get.” She grunted a little as she rubbed the hide. On top of everything, aching tiredness was trying to rear its head. There was no time for tiredness yet. There was still important things that needed doing. “You’re doing a marvellous job, dear one. I promise you’ll be able to settle and sleep when we’re all done. I’ll even bring your favourite fur out for tonight.”


Mendl giggled a little at Ponth’s surprise. “Right? It’s a good feeling. But we’ll get you all taken care of.” Leaving Dytha on one side, Mendl went to the other, massaging the aromatic ointment into that wing, the shoulder blades, her neck, carefully keeping away from the abrasions. This stuff was not good on cuts. Well, maybe it was, but the pain wasn’t worth it.


She was sure her tail hurt, also, so rubbed it into the tail muscles too. “You’ll need to call me tomorrow so I can do this again,” she said. “Right now it’s too much for one person, even as small as you are.” She peeked over Ponth’s back at Dytha, who looked like she was ready to drop.


“Have I missed anything, Ponth?” she asked.


(( Am I allowed to call for you? I know you are waiting for the eggs. Mine says that is why there are so many of you now. )) Ponth’s tired voice was shy and uncertain, as though to call on Mendl would break some terrible unknown rule. But it was clear that as Mendl and Dytha worked, applying the salve where it was needed, that it was doing the job it needed to, the relief visible as the small green’s legs eventually folded beneath her and dropped her to the stone. Pain could keep you going for a long time, but when it faded, the strength seemed to fade with it.


(( I think… that’s everywhere… )) Already she could feel the throbbing aches beginning to be overriden by the salves applied to her. Now, most of what she could feel Ponth could now distinguish as being only Dytha’s pain,  not her own. (( Now I only feel where Mine aches. It is less… blurry… ))


Dytha hadn’t missed the subtle but friendly jibe and snorted as though highly offended. “I hope you’re not calling me stubborn from over there, madam.” Even in her tiredness, a glimmer of humour touched her eyes but it was wan. “You can call on Mendl whenever you need to, you just might have to wait a little if she’s in classes.” She knew what her friend was saying. Just as she knew that Mendl knew her well enough by now that she would likely try and do it all herself if no one stopped her. Stubbornness had its place.


“You can call on me anytime of the day or night,” Mendl said, rubbing Ponth’s headknobs and hoping those weren’t hurting as well. “Now, where’s that blanket and we can get you settled for the night. Then I need to make sure yours isn’t hurting so she can sleep, too.”  She fingered the small vial of fellis something had made her take from the infirmary. Just a small amount, and she’d tell Master Larsin about it later.


Taking a moment, Dytha made her way carefully to Ponth’s head again where the green gratefully pushed her head into the waiting arms. With every last bit of energy she had, Dytha wrapped her green, her sweet, sweet green in as much love as she could muster and used all her strength to push the cold and ugly sensation of anger away from Ponth. “It’s in the chest on the corner of the ledge there.” With Ponth using such a small amount, even on a damaged ledge like this, she had been able to fold the large fur into a chest and leave it within reach whenever it was needed.


Even Dytha wasn’t so stubborn as to realise that Mendl would have been able to reach the chest and return in the time it would have taken her to get even half way there. Now that Ponth was beginning to settle, she was becoming aware of the deep, pulsing ache that spread up her legs. She knew that pain. The telltale sign of having done far too much and in the morning she would suffer for it. But she would deal with that when it came. “You’ll sleep soon, my darling. I promise. You shall sleep for as long as you want to.”


Mendl brought the blanket over and handed it to Dytha. Though she would have been more than happy to settle the blanket with Ponth, she knew it was something Dytha needed to do.  Meanwhile, Dytha needed some ministrations of her own.


“Have you taken a bath yet?” Mendl asked. She thought that the bathing pool had been used, but the bloody shirt made her rethink that possibly erroneous observation. “If not, we need you in there now. And I know you’re tired, but if you want Ponth to sleep, we need to take care of your pain now.” 


Carefully, Ponth was covered with the soft fur, light enough to prevent overheating but plush enough to provide dense comfort. Almost immediately the green had settled beneath it with a happy sigh, carefully settling herself down. The effort was exhausting in itself but as Mendl had already observed, it had been deeply satisfying for some reason Dytha hadn’t been able to name. But when it was done, she had given Ponth a fond caress to her eyeridge before turning to her friend. She could already feel the whispers of sleep pulling at Ponth and knew that it wouldn’t be long before she was fast asleep.


“Not yet. I ran one earlier. Probably left half a tap on when Ponth went up which is why it’s still running warm. Faranth knows how much went down the drain.” But wasted water seemed ridiculously unimportant at that moment. “I need to clean up.” There was a finality in the way she said it that implied that the “cleanliness” Dytha craved was more about scrubbing the taint of H’lan from her flesh than it was about actually bathing. That and she wanted to roll in a vat of numbweed herself. Carefully she moved from the green’s side, her face a contorted grimace of stubborn pain, her movements stiff and uncomfortable as aching muscles protested at their use.


“Here, lean on me. I won’t insult you by insisting on washing you, but I will sit here and watch to make sure you don’t accidentally drown yourself.” Not from any suicidal tendencies, but from sheer exhaustion.  “Then, we’ll get you that vat of numbweed.” 

She remembered that angry bite on her shoulder. “And disinfect you to within an inch of that bluerider’s life.”  


And even though Dytha had those teas for her feet, with the small amount of fellis, she felt that maybe just the teensiest bit more was warranted. And then...even if it got her into trouble, she was going to sleep here. Her friend was too beat up to leave alone. Candidate curfew notwithstanding.












What is Wrong with This Kid? (M'ayen/D'xon)

Laura Walker
 

Later in the day after Garatt’s failed morning detention D’xon couldn’t get off his mind how badly Garatt was doing. If M’ayen had also given him detention, then there must be something consistent going on. He had to find out more.


During a break they shared, he went to M’ayen’s office and knocked.


“Enter!” The call rang through the door after a few moments.


D’xon came in and closed the door behind him. “I need to talk to you about a Candidate.”


“Ah?” Internally M’ayen was ready to go on the defensive. It was only a matter of time after all until the children started to complain. Of course he could justify everything but it was annoying to be called to account. Still, he nodded to the chair across his desk. “Go ahead then.”


D’xon took the seat. “A Candidate named Garatt. He’s been turning in really awful assignments that don’t make much sense. He mentioned that he had detention with you so I assume that he’s been causing problems in more than my class.”


Oh. Well, this was an interesting turn of events. M’ayen paused and tried not to smile. “..Garatt,” he said as though readying his thoughts. “..Yes. He has been rather struggling, hasn’t he?”


“I feel like he’s probably better than he’s showing,” D’xon said. “But he’s definitely not showing it. How has he been doing with you?”


M’ayen sighed deeply. “Garatt is.. Well. We’ve been seeing rather a lot of each other. The boy just doesn’t learn, does he?” he said as though despairing. “I know it’s not said here and not the Arolos way, but sometimes I do rather miss the ability to give children a short sharp shock that makes them decide whether they want to stay or go. There’s only so much that can be achieved with detentions and correctional essays.”


D’xon’s lips thin slightly at that. He agreed on the latter, but not on the first part. But no need to argue, they were at Arolos not at Fort. “Well, at this rate he’s going to get threats to be put out of Candidacy anyway. Maybe that will be shock enough.” Maybe.


“I’ve yet to meet the boy who isn’t convinced the world will always offer one more chance,” M’ayen said. “He’s already had Standing at this Hatching pulled.” A truth, if one with other reasons behind it.


“There’s a difference between the loss of one chance, however painful, and the chance of losing everything entirely.” D’xon shrugged. Their options were limited in some cases, but at least if the Candidate was sent away then they’d not have to deal with the boy anymore. Honestly D’xon was annoyed by Garatt, but he didn’t think the boy was being deliberately a problem. And he’d rather deal with one struggling than one who was defiant and disrespectful.


M’ayen laughed. “Not so much a hardship in this case. The boy’s set to inherit a fairly large Hold if he doesn’t wind up with a dragon. This is where a lifetime of coddling gets you unfortunately.”


“I hope it’s not that big of a hold given how he is crumbling under pressure here.” Boy would that be a disaster. “But maybe he’d do better at that than here. Not that he could do much worse.”


“Berford, I believe.” As far as Holds went, it wasn’t a small one. “Holder’s only son. Faranth knows why he let him go.”


“Well...that’s a shame. Maybe his father let him go because he didn’t think that the boy could manage the Hold. If he Impresses, I bet there’s someone waiting in the wings.”


“Oh, undoubtedly. I suspect for Garatt though, the kindest thing that could happen is if he were to get sent home to be Daddy’s problem again,” M’ayen said. He sat back in his chair, raising a hand with fingers bent to start ticking off a list. “Day-dreaming in class. Outright sleeping in class if you would believe. General slovenliness. Inability to follow basic instructions. Inability to answer questions when called on. The list goes on.” He shrugged disgustedly. “And I’ve seen girls who cry less than that boy at a punishment.”


“I can’t believe he’s been here this long,” D’xon said, acknowledging all the problems. He considered for a moment. “Unless this is a new problem. Even the ACMs here aren’t that lenient. I hear that he had a close encounter with the egg thing and those stupid Candidates. Still, if he’s that easily traumatized, what happens if some of the eggs don’t Hatch or there’s a tragedy in his Weyrling class? Or once he’s graduated and his first wingmate dies?”


“If you ask me, Garatt is one of those children who scrapes by until someone starts to apply a little discipline,” M’ayen said. “Once we were asked to be sterner about picking up minor infringements.. He’s not used to being scolded, so everything starts to slide.”


D’xon nodded. “That’s also possible. At any rate, he’s not doing so great now. I hope with time he’ll improve or we’ll know that he can’t.”


“In the meantime--” M’ayen looked at D’xon a moment, considering. What could he get away with here? “What is he struggling with in your classes?”


“He’s mixing up essays as he writes.” D’xon shrugged. “It’s like he forget what he’s writing partway through and starts a different essay. Unfortunately none of them would be of great quality even if they were finished, but probably passable, I suppose.” He didn’t mention the being sleepy. A lot of Candidates were tired that early in the morning. He was, too, for that matter.


“Well.” M’ayen seemed to be thinking. “There is the Candidate trip coming up, and I have to say, I’ve already said I’m far too old for camping. If he can’t catch up, I don’t mind taking him in hand and ensuring he does them here, and perhaps missing a real treat would get the message through.”


“That might be a good idea,” D’xon said. “In the meantime, any chance I can take the occasional evening or part of an evening to do some of his detentions.” Because there would be more, he was sure of it. “I’m not adverse to making him do morning detention, but that means I have to be there, too.”


That, M’ayen liked less but he looked considering. “You can, certainly, but I feel a little as though he’s getting away with something there. If he’s making mistakes with both of us the penalty surely has to be something more than the same amount of detention shared between us.” Don’t push that too hard, pass it back. “Any thoughts?”


“I’m not talking every time,” D’xon said. “I’m suggesting either we flip and you kindly take a morning once in a while, or you take one candlemark in the evening and I take the other.”


“I can take the occasional morning, certainly,” M’ayen agreed. He paused. “You know, if it helps, I have a low class-load at present as I’ve just returned. If I know what essays you’ve assigned him to do, I don’t mind watching him for the extra hour here and there added on to his detentions with me.”


That made D’xon happier. “I’ll let you know. Maybe he’ll amazingly straighten up, but I’m doubting it. We’ll see how he does with the ones I currently have him doing. I just can’t see passing him with the work he’s doing. Especially not with important classes. He’d just become a liability.”


“How are you finding him with things other than essays?” M’ayen asked, as though it were only a matter for mild interest. “I have to say, his appearance drives me up the wall.”


“Ah, yes,” D’xon had to admit to that. “I’m guessing that there’s little we can do to impact that can fix that any time soon. I don’t understand how hard it is to look presentable. He’s a Holder’s heir, for feck’s sake. Surely his father raised him better than that.”


“Pick him up in class,” M’ayen advised, the voice of experience. “Every time. For day-dreaming as well - and if he tries sleeping again, though I hope I’ve taught him better than that now. Sometimes being pulled up in front of their peers is what it takes.”


“D’xon raised his eyebrows. “I take it you’ve been doing that. Has it stopped the behavior yet?”


“Well, I find he pays a lot more attention if you make him stand rather than sit,” M’ayen said. “Once he’s sat down he seems to go off into his own world.”


That earned him a slow nod. “I will consider using that technique.” After all, having someone stand for a class was a relatively benign punishment. “Though by that standard, I’ll have most of the class standing at some point. Then again, a lot of those manage to keep up with good work. He does not.”


“It’s that or keep an eye on him and shout his name whenever he starts to nod,” M’ayen said. “And between you and I.. my eyesight’s not what it was. I’ve moved him to the front row where it’s easier to see but watching him constantly is a strain.”


“Honestly, I’m not sure why you’re bothering,” D’xon said. “If he needs that much work to stay on task, then why not let him fail out? Are they going to keep this much of an eye on him during Weyrling classes? Or when he’s in the air for Thread?”


“Have you tried removing anyone from Candidacy for anything less egregious than the mess on the Sands the other day?” M’ayen asked. “If I so much as try I have the sharding Candidate Counsellor leaping down my throat, bleating that I’m being unfair and that’s not how things are done here. I’d be highly obliged if someone could convince the boy to drop out but right now it feels as though the alternative to applying discipline is a completely unprepared Weyrling in the future.”


“Ah, yes, the Weyrwoman’s uncle,” D’xon said. “Did you ever hear why he got his current job?” Even turns and turns later, sometimes rumors stayed around.


“I know that back a few turns ago when I had the Candidates he didn’t even go for the job,” M’ayen said. “I was surprised, honestly. I thought the Weyrwoman would have pushed him into it.”


“Actually he had it before. Turns ago.” He’d gotten another ACM drunk one day and got a lot more information than he would have just asking normally. He was pretty sure at least that detail was right and was willing to bet the next wasn’t too far off the mark. “He failed miserably. Probably because for a long time he had a drinking problem. Or so I was told.”


M’ayen gave a low whistle. “That one I didn’t know,” he admitted. “Though it explains a lot. His softness on them couldn’t have helped either.” He considered the other man. “Can I suggest, as outright removing the boy from the program is beyond us, we work together on this one?” he said after a judicious moment. “I know ACM Talena has been having similar problems with him. I feel as though he really needs a coordinated zero tolerance approach. Give him the message that either he straightens up or he leaves.” 


“I honestly don’t see that approach working given how he’s already crying at the drop of a hat,” D’xon said. “But I don’t see anything else working, either. I’m willing to keep an eye on him and press the bigger issues, but otherwise I’m tempted to let him fail on his own merit. He can’t be babysitted forever.”


“If that boy does Impress, there's no way he's getting anything other than green,” M'ayen said. “Which will no doubt impress Daddy no end but he simply hasn't got the strength of character for anything higher.” He huffed as though thinking it over. “While I've more often had this issue with girls I'd say let him cry. Ignore it. He'll do it as long as he learns it gets him out of consequences.”


“You’re probably right,” D’xon said. “I know we need them, but we often don’t need the riders that Impress them. I can let him cry anyway. Maybe it’ll shame him into doing better.”


“I suspect it won't take many occasions of being allowed to cry in front of his peers before they'll squash that particular habit out of him,” M'ayen said.”Talk to Talena as well. Maybe she’ll have a few ideas on more effective punishments.”


“I just might.” D’xon pushed to his feet. “I think that’s settled then.”


M'ayen nodded. “Thanks for this. Always better to deal with the problem kids as a group.” And just like that, for a variety of minor childish misdemeanours, Garatt was a problem child.



--

Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.