Shopping for a fight!

[Xinnai]

K'houry was watching, light green eyes narrowed as he gazed upon the scene laid out before him. It seemed like a game almost, almost as if it all weren't going to happen. He didn't notice Genet and Nysta as they wandered off, instead taking a few steps closer towards the rather inebriated riders, watching, his entire stocky body clenched, as the Caminar man drew closer.

He let out a shocked, angry cry as brown hand met whiter jaw and he leaped forward, surprisingly agile for his rather advanced age. He was in the rider's ranks solidly and then watched as fists began to fly. Jaw knotted, rage reared up to blind him. He snarled, stalking forward, eyes raking the gathering crowd for any other takers, ignoring it when another man, a newly established greenrider, was hit. This was what all of this came to! This was why such changes were bad! He'd been right all along.

[Alsivor]

Not unlike Laikol, Aleda's younger brothers Silvio and Milo were stuck manning the stand for their family today, the clothing and fabrics arrayed on the table-front bright and cheery though they hadn't attracted much custom yet. Fifteen-turn old Milo was getting annoyed in fact at how distracted Silvio was, paying more attention to any females that rolled into the vicinity and even if they weren't customers. "Sil, would you /focus/," the younger teen hissed in Noestacan, nudging his elder brother as he watched a pretty skirt flip by /again/. Their stand wasn't as well positioned as well as it could be, some down and farther back from some of the others.

"Huh? Oh. What for, Milo? There's not really anyone buy--," the older teen blinked as he saw the crowd gathering, "--ing." The riders and Caminar and it looked to him like Telgari ganging up on one of his own. His breath hissed through his teeth and his eyes narrowed as he watched then he turned to his younger brother and lifted a finger. "Stay here." Before Milo could really say anything, Silvio had vaulted gracefully over the table and was hastening towards the fight. Milo called out to his brother as he went: "Sil, don't! Father'll tan your hide if you ... Sil!" And ignoring the imprecation to stay put, the much smaller, lighter boy ran around the table and after his brother. It wasn't fair how much faster Silvio was, Milo hadn't hit a decent growth spurt yet and where his older brother pretty much looked like a man, albeit a young one, he was still stuck in gangly child mode. He tried to put a little more effort into it, to catch at Silvio's sleeve to pull him back but he was already wading into the fray.

Silvio reached for the nearest rider, attempting to draw attention away from the Caminar already embroiled, unaware that his little brother was dogging his heels and already in the thick of things himself.

[Omnia Munda]

A'wan was curling a fist beside his hip, but his left hand was swinging for Laikol's shoulder. His plan was clear: steady the Caminar man so his swing would hit harder when it came. And then that swing was coming.

The staggering C'vole was barely aware of Caminar hands reaching for him; like his bluerider wingmate he was blood-eyed with rage for Laikol. But as his hand came off of his jaw he caught sight of Silvio from the corner of his eye. "Y'need a lesson in respect? I got one f'y'here," he hissed in a liquored breath and swung a wild fist hard but ill-aimed in the older brother's direction.

[hails]

Nysta gawked at Genet as the fight broke out. Caminar began to yell and cheer and more weyrfolk stopped to see what was going on. More than a few men from each side jumped into the fray. But at least the fighting was going on over there and since no one was really giving Nysta an evil eye (after all, what threat is a young weyrbrat?) she stayed and watched the brawl with a hint of amazed embarrassment. The two sides surely wouldn't think of the other in a more positive light and more fights were probably in the future.

A group of hot-tempered teens rushed by and one ran into Nysta's shoulder. She was thrown off-balance and fell hard on her knees. Her basket rolled around on the ground, spilling her tarts. Her lovely tarts that she had spent so much time making. She heard laughing above her and saw that a few of the boys had stopped and were talking amongst themselves in some strange language.

"Those don't look better to eat than the ground they're on, Telgari brat."

Oh no he didn't! Nysta jumped to her feet and roughly shoved the boy. "Say that again," she yelled.

___________

Laikol had put himself in a bad spot by making the first punch and he knew it. A hit landed smack in his face and he stumbled backwards. Blood filled his mouth and he spat on the ground. Teeth were still there but his lip was busted.

He yelled in rage and swung his fists, sometimes hitting an opponent, sometimes getting hit back. It was only when a much larger man grasped his shirt and lifted him clear off the ground that Laikol aimed a hard kick in the man's...well...crotch.

Laikol was thrown down and a boot came down on his dominant hand and he felt bones crack. He winced and held his swelling hand close to him. But he was still in the fight and he wouldn't back down!

[Xinnai]

K'houry was in the thick of things, fists flying, his blood running higher than it had in turns. He grinned viciously, punching one man in the face and getting hit back, right in the shoulder. He grunted and aimed for the man, but there were so many people in the way. It was a tangle of arms, of legs, of men going after men in violence that had long been suppressed.

It made the greenrider feel good. He had said that no good would come of letting the Caminar stay. And he was right! The vermin took for granted what they had. And a Caminar had been the first to throw a punch. That counted for something.

Shaking sweat from his eyes, K'houry took another punch, right in the gut. He wheezed, bending to grab at his rather thick midsection, feeling the pain radiate through him. Well, that certainly did say something for age. Shaking it off, he punched one man right in the eye and grinned, victorious.

This was one hell of a fight.

[Invisible]

Growing up confrontational had done Genet some good. The most important lesson it had taught her was to decide exactly when it was wise to confront someone. A big fight was not the time to show how tough you thought you were. Especially since Genet was not a fighter. The occasional scrap with some other holder girl or boy did not prepare one for a huge brawl between angry young, and old, men. Best to remain back so as to be able to watch and not get involved. Unfortunately since she had brought Nysta here she felt somewhat responsible for her. So, when she seemed ready to pick a fight the older girl had no choice but to get involved.

Stepping up by Nysta she formed a fist with one hand and eyed the teenagers. “If you don’t want to have to be teased for being beaten up by a woman I suggest you keep moving.” Wait. What was all that said about Genet knowing when to be confrontational? Right, forget that. Eyes narrowing she gestured towards the basket. “You owe her an apology.” Which probably wasn’t heard so well since Nysta was shoving by then. Her own curse was loud and clearly understood. She did not want a fight, but here she was anyway.




Verinas threw more punches with most of them connecting on the younger riders he’d picked out as his own. When they tried to gang up on him he just kicked up dirt at their faces and got the upper hand again. While the two he’d been beating on began to retreat he let them go. Cowards. Instead he looked around for someone new. And there was K’houry. A stupid old plantado man thinking he could take on the Caminar? With a wicked gleam in his eye he headed for K’houry and aimed a punch at him, coming in low while he might still be distracted.

[Xinnai]

K'houry didn't see Verinas until the very last second. He'd been hit in the eye just moments before and the flesh was rapidly beginning to swell already. He squinted, looking for someone to hit, feeling that fierce battle rage consume him that all people with a Y chromosome seemed to prone to get. He didn't see the other man but when he did, it was sudden.

He bent over, huffing and wheezing at the low punch, scowling at the man and kicking at him, aiming for his leg and then his abdomen. He looked old, but he wasn't. His own working eye still narrowed, his teeth bared in a grimace, he rushed at the filthy Caminar, intent on destroying. It wasn't fun and games now. This was a mini war.

[Alsivor]

Silvio only smiled, charmingly even, as C'vole swung around and the wild punch saw the lithe Caminar sidestepping to avoid it. Milo though was not so fortunate, as he hurled himself at Silvio to drag him out of the fray, the poorly aimed blow caught the younger boy across the face and sent him spinning in a little heap to the ground. Silvio, stunned for a bare second by the suddenness, choked out his little brother's name and then wound up a blow of his own, this one headed for C'vole's gut along with a swift kick to the shin. He suddenly had an urgent need to knock the rider aside and get clear enough to help Milo. Dust got kicked up from the ground as the scuffle intensified and he had a sense of others gathering near. At the back of his mind: Mamma was not going to be happy when he brought his brother home bloodied. Stupid drunken riders.

[Omnia Munda]

One Caminar was, as far as C'vole could be concerned, as good as another. All of them were in his Weyr, eating his food and chasing his women. Rapists, they were - oh yes, the brownrider remembered the ill-timed invasion of Caminar youth when their Weyrwoman's queen was flown! - and thieves. And child-stealers, for all he knew. The nagging sensation that there was something not quite right about that accusation was easily set aside in favor of shaking invisible Milo-skin-cells off of his knuckles and suppressing a hiccup.

But then he was taking a fist in the gut and a kick in the shin and it was all the brownrider could do to throw one hand across his stomach and the other toward a Caminar head. It wasn't a fist this time, but a grapple. Nevertheless, it would take more than just fury and reach for the staggering brownrider to catch more than a handful of dark hair.

"S'getting away," urped C'vole, but A'wan was too involved now to hear or answer. As one of the soberer of the riders he was getting in more than his fair share of fists and feet on Caminar shins, shoulders and jaws - but his blue on his ledge high above was becoming most perturbed, and tried to remind his rider, We're supposed to be hospitable. Anxiety rose in the beast's mental voice and he reached out in dismay for a couple other dragons whose riders he recognized from among those A'wan knew were around him. We're supposed to be above them!

[Alsivor]

Ow. Silvio's hair was being grabbed. Good thing he grew up with so many sisters. That he was used to at least. He aimed another kick at C'vole's already bruised shin and the other for good measure to hopefully set him off-guard and off-balance and then reached in to box the rider's ears with hands cupped tight.

He'd have liked to have just rammed the rider hard, watched him fall but in the end, Silvio left his hair behind in C'vole's grip and ducked away. Milo was still lying on the ground in a heap, blood trickling from his nose and mouth and he needed to get his brother out of there before someone stepped on him.

[dragonmage]

Nocia had been wandering a little. She wanted to buy something but wasn't really sure what. She guessed that she would figure out exactly what she would buy when she found something that made her really want it. Her marks felt not exactly as if they were burning a hole in her pocket, yet they weighed heavily on her mind. Genet's amber necklace floated in her mind as well.

Nocia wanted something like that almost as badly as she had wanted the gold dragonet between its Hatching and Impression. It was so beautiful, but it definitely wasn't for her. It fit Genet. Maybe she could find something like that for herself. Even if she couldn't, she had to try. The start of the fight scared her, what was she supposed to do?

((Feel free to drag Nocia into the fight.))

[Xinnai]

Finneth was taking her afternoon nap, basking in the sun that made her feel warm and drowsy, heating her blood and making her feel like a frisky little green again. Not that she wasn't anyways. She rolled over, still huddling on the edges of consciousess when she first felt it. That first wave of uncertainty, that ball that kneaded in the stomach, telling you something was wrong. Desperately wrong.

Suddenly wide awake, the green sat up, reaching for her rider and not finding him close at hand. She felt a brief shiver of unease. K'houry was usually always nearby when she napped. They were too closely twined, shared too much history, to not be close by. And he did not like being alone...

She cast her mind further, about the rest of the Weyr, and did not find him for a while. He was in the bowl. She was feeling more than unease now. She was feeling closer to panic. Finneth linked her mind with her bonded's, following his consciousness. She felt the spark and simmer of pain, the jolt of awareness, and quickly drew back, hissing, her eyes whirling as her wings flared as if in self-defense. Pain. Hurt. Anger. Rage.

It was at that moment when the greenrider had met Verinas that his green had joined him. Finneth shook, trembling briefly, before she gained control of herself. She may have been a green, but she wasn't stupid. She reached out for one she knew could help, one she knew could soothe.

Daisulyth! Something is wrong. Something is terribly, terribly wrong. Mine-K'houry is in a fight. I think...No, I know there are lots of people there. In the bowl. Something is wrong.[/color]

[anhydrous]

It wouldn’t be a lie to say that I’dalyn had been particularly lazy on this insignificant day, morning stretching into afternoon by the time he had made his way down to the barracks to check up on his weyrlings. There was no lesson scheduled, his charges wandering about and completing their chores –if they knew what was good for them.

Without much fervor the brownrider’s boot heels clicked monotonously against the stone floor of the cavern. His seemingly endless path wound down the rows of cots, his eyes rolling lazily to make sure that each bed or couch looked presentable enough if one of the weyrleaders should happen to stop by.

Daisulyth, as always, had taken up his position just the entrance to the barracks, watching his rider’s every move with insatiable anxiety. Much to his delight, a familiar voice cut the tension and surprisingly signaled him by name. He hadn’t thought that he had made such a strong impression on the feisty little green, but apparently he was memorable enough that she would call him on specific terms. Daisulyth rumbled, his eyes whirling contentedly.

The brown’s glee dissolved as Finneth exclaimed her plight, the uncertainty and fear lacing every word. He flared his wings, growling his disapproval of the situation with no uncertain terms. Never one to keep a lady waiting, Daisulyth had a quick reply for Finneth’s call of distress. Do not worry. Pass your message on while Mine and I find Yours. We will not let him be harmed.[/color] His voice was level, if not urgent, attempting to keep the green calm enough that she could relay her message to a dragon of higher rank.

Immediately he thrust his head into the barracks, shoving I’dalyn’s consciousness roughly to gain his indifferent attention. We must find Finneth’s. There is a problem.[/color] I’dalyn nearly stumbled from the forcefulness of the order, rushing out to his brown with a very deep furrow in his brow.

“What? Finneth’s? Are you still going on about that green?” His exasperation was thinly veiled, but still received a growl from his impatient dragon. Riders are fighting in the weyrbowl! We must intervene! The concept was not unfamiliar to him, but somehow I’dalyn was unable to get his mind around the urgency. Daisulyth ushered his flustered rider into position on his back, taking an awkward flying-while-running gait in the direction of the Caminar caravans.

I’dalyn was dumped -quite literally, onto the ground not far away from the thick of the fight, Daisulyth’s eyes whirling hotly as he surveyed the scene. I’dalyn struggled to regain his balance and take in the multitude of people brawling in front of him, eyes darting among the faces of those participating. Half were Caminar, the other half Weyrfolk, although it was impossible to tell which had started it.

Why do these people quarrel!? Daisulyth demanded, shocking his stunned rider into action. I’dalyn stuck two fingers in his mouth, the shrill sound that emerged barely audible over the shouting and cursing.

“What the HELL is going on here?”

Intelligent words. It didn’t really matter though, not when the agitated dragon growling behind him cut such a large shadow over the squabbling mass. Said dragon was merely searching the crowd for K’houry, quite intent to win his darling’s heart with the safe return of her dearly-beloved-although-angry-horrible-stubborn rider-mine.

[hails]

A hard punch in the chest had knocked Laikol off his feet and he landed on the outskirts of the fight. He sucked in a deep breath and stumbled to get back on his feet. His hand hurt, his face hurt, his chest hurt, and his pride hurt. He was about to dive back into the swarm of flying fists and grunted curses when a loud voice came somewhere from above him. He glanced up and was shocked to see not only a young man but a very large dragon.

Eyes wide with fear (who brought a dragon to a brawl?!) Laikol stepped backwards, hoping to make a quick escape without drawing attention from the weyrlingmaster and his mount.

___________

Nysta turned back to Genet with a small triumphant grin as the boys muttered a small apology. Guess even two females could be intimidating. She picked up the basket and looked at the tarts with a frown. Perhaps another time.

A fluttering figure appeared between two stalls and grabbed two of the boys by the arms. The boys looked up at their mother with shocked expressions. "And just where do you think you two are going," she asked in Noestacan. "Think you two are man enough to join the fight?" Her sons continued staring at her with fear. "If you're man enough to fight, then you're man enough to do extra work, I think." And with that, she dragged the two of them away.

"So..." Nysta said slowly to Genet as the rest of the boys dispersed. "What do we do now? I reckon most of the Caminar don't feel like trading with us weyrfolk right now." She chuckled a bit to herself.

[Invisible]

Many of the Caminar had the same thought as Laikol. Whose bright idea to bring a dragon into this? Things were going along quite well. “Cowards!” Verinas shouted towards the riders. “Cheaters! Can’t beat us fair. Cowards!” But even as he shouted out these insults the Caminar youth was backing up slowly. If they were bringing in the dragons he didn’t want to be around and get stomped on. He was not sure he believed the assurances of weyrfolk that a dragon wouldn’t hurt a human. The weyrlingmaster’s dragon seemed to be the herald of the end of the brawl. It was not the authority of the weyrlingmaster that did it for the Caminar. But, the fear the weyr would turn their beasts on their ‘guests’ was not an unknown fear.

K’tel, followed by his brother, had been heading for Silvio and his brother. The arrival of the weyrlingmaster stopped the rider and his brother up short. “Shells,” he muttered and aimed for someone else instead. Silvio was busy so he had to get his last licks in up close. Another punch and a kick to the Caminar’s side while he was down and K’tel grabbed his brother and began hauling him back. The idea being to get out of sight. No need to notice them and them risk getting in trouble after all.

Genet let out a sigh when she escaped having to fight. It was definitely one of relief as she had not come dressed for trouble. Still, it was a little disappointing not to get to hit someone. There was nothing wrong with hitting someone every now and again. So long as you got in the last punch. Or scratch or whatever the weapon of choice for the fight was. When Nysta spoke she turned to her and shrugged. “Dunno. We could stick around and see what happens? Oh! We could see if any of them would talk to us. You know, gather information. Like harper spies!” Because how dangerous could that be anyway?