Weyrling Gossip (Open to weyrlings/weyrling staff)

[Invisible]

To say he was surprised was an understatement. K’mar had been trying to help Salina and Ez’ki, for all he was useless, in what their future might hold. Clearly, judging by their reactions they did not want to hear it. He could not help but be hurt that he had been read so wrong. After all he’d done since impressing to try to make friends this was how he was treated.

There was no outburst from him. Volsteath kept him steady as he looked at those gathered. “Neither of you has it right,” he says quietly and then turns to stalk off to the other side of the barracks. Volsteath followed him without even looking at the queen and her misplaced fury. If she was this turned against him simply because his rider tried to help he believed that K’mar must be right when he thought she would be gone once they graduated. He did not understand the politics behind it, but he knew that a queen being unreasonable to a brown because her rider was attached to a blue was somehow wrong. It felt wrong.

It is ok, K’mar[/color] he said to the pensive young man beside him. It is not your fault. They will have to learn from someone else. We tried. You tried. I am proud of you.[/color] I am not trying to overstep my place K’mar told the brown. I just don’t want us all to suffer because that bastard and his blue don’t know their place. The brown moved closer to his rider, slowing both their steps to keep from tripping over each other. Do not worry, K’mar. It will be ok.[/color] The pair settled near the door, waiting to move but not wanting to leave because of how it might be seen. It was not a retreat, but a withdrawal from a volatile situation.

[blueaid]

Z'dayi's expression while the weyrlings continued bickering and snickering around him was pretty clear: Blah blah blah. At two in the afternoon, he could probably admit that he'd been fortunate to Impress to Tremaith-- even while the bronze intervened between him and Salina, a tattered-looking wingsail flickering imperiously at the goldrider while he ushered his weyrling off the cot, nudged him to get dressed decently at least. Yesterday's tunic is hardly the sort of garb that Tremaith would see his rider in, after all. His image of Z'dayi is comically pristine, groomed and shaved, tidy and turned-out. Not at all this tumbled-out-of-bed look his weyrling favors.

"Y'all can stick together," he answered over his shoulder toward T'rad while crouching down in front of his clothespress. It was a mess in there, no surprise, and finding a pair of trousers that didn't have a thousand wrinkles was chore enough. "As for me? Don't matter to me if I'dalyn and K'houry been up all night gettin' freaky and it puts 'em in a foul mood in the morning. Gonna be the same dam-- dang chores and lessons anyways, so..." He was just about to say more when Ez'ki decided to dress down the brownrider. Up climbed his eyebrows.

In an aside, one hand shading his mouth from K'mar's view, Z'dayi added, "Take a breather there, buddy." Kind of like "thanks for sticking up for me," but maybe a little daunted by the bluerider's vociferousness.

[anhydrous]

Daisulyth nudged his rider gently with his mind, amusement coloring his words as he interrupted I’dalyn’s breakfast. Your younglings are talking about you, He said with the draconic equivalent of a chuckle. All morning there had been idle chitchat buzzing in the air from the directions of the barracks, easily overheard by an elder who had been instructed to check in on them.

The weyrlingmaster choked on his klah, standing suddenly and leaving his dishes behind for someone else to clean up. Which ones? He asked with a frown, his step increasingly rapid as punishments swirled in front of his eyes. The brown chuckled again in response, rising from his couch to meander aerially towards Finneth’s ledge instead. Most of them, was his terse reply, wings wobbling on the unsteady current that sent him spiraling upward.

And indeed, most of them were. I’dalyn caught the tail end of an argument from his position in the doorway, his eyes widening but not exactly surprised at the subject of the debate.

“… don’t matter to me if I'dalyn and K'houry been up all night gettin' freaky…”

The brownrider cringed, expectedly embarrassed. Shardit. Now they knew, and they were behaving exactly as he had thought they would. With a sigh I’dalyn suppressed as much shame as he could and stalked towards Z’dayi, having heard his voice over the rest of them.

“You!” He pointed to the bronzeling, the room suddenly silent as each weyrling noticed the infuriated subject of their gossip stalking towards the center of the room. “Go down to the lower caverns and tell the headwoman to clear out the laundry rooms.” It wasn’t a suggestion, wasn’t even close. Pure mortification was driving him to immediately silence any talk and put to rest any assumptions, and a chore of unspeakable volume was the only cure he knew.

Calm was not a word that could be placed on I’dalyn right now. “Every sharding one of you is on laundry duty for the rest of the day,” he bellowed, eyes darting around the room. “I better not see a single one of your faces before you’ve washed and hung and dried and folded every scorching scrap that has piled up down there.” It was clear that he had suffered an unspeakable blow to his pride, for only a man in that position would order such a thing.

Telgar’s laundry room was well known for its massive bins and piles of laundry, a full staff unable to cope with the colossal amounts of clothes and linens that were delivered there every day. They were always backed up, and the steam that came from handwashing all of it made those back caverns unbearable, even on a cool day. There was no trace of breeze drifting through the lower caverns on this particular morning, and it became suddenly clear that the weyrlings had picked a poor time to disrespect the man in charge of them. It was doubtful that they’d be done by nightfall, but the gathering darkness near the end of their shift might bring some blessed relief. I’dalyn certainly hoped not.

“No exceptions,” he said bluntly, a couple of trembling lips ready to assure that they had no part in the talk. “You’re all going to learn some respect, and you’re going to learn it right now.” If his reaction hadn’t made it clear enough that he took no willing part in a tryst with K’houry, his tone would. It was part infuriated, but mostly disgusted.

[neopanther]

Z’dayi’s words amused him – not that he showed it.
“It’s all right, not sure you needed it.” Ez’ki shrugged at the older man’s words.
Ez was more solemn that sour, He refused to smirk as I’dalyn entered the room, all sour and irrational. The man was obviously a little more than perturbed himself by the rising flight of the green. Looking up at the weyrlingmaster, a flutter of guilt stirred, then looking away, punishment delivered, his hands swiped a hair band from the side, quickly tied his hair back, out of the way, washing was a fairly easy task, not overly bad considering what they had been done, besides it meant he got to leave everyone else alone, except for the only two people in the room who he actually gave a damn about. Sure thing that rotten brown rider’d be there, but he had a feeling he’d keep his peace now. He looked sick. Before rising he gave a sideways glance in Sassie’s direction, then to Z’dayi, besides the laundry room was big enough that they could keep apart enough to converse from the brown beast.

He rose swiftly, whisked past I’dalyn, not a word said, but then just gave a quick, “Sir.” In acceptance of what was coming. Shards but it was going to be a long day. Xyruth rose quickly, agitation seeping from his mind, distraction caused by the change of scenery imposed upon them by the enforced reprimand. But the blue felt he had no reason to be punished, as did none of the others, they’d quarrelled but that was all. He gave a dissatisfied huff as he lunged off into a run to catch up with his long legged bonded.
You’re oddly compliant.
I don’t really care today.
Yes, I can tell, but they had no reason to punish us. Or any of them for that matter.
Yes, but I’dalyn’s not currently in a stable mind, he’s obviously pretty off-put by that rising, no sense in making him feel worse, it’ll only make our work load greater.
Logic? Even though it’s not [/i]fair?[/color]
I think I’m learning how the weyr works.[/i] The blue hummed contentedly. But there was a spark missing from his bonded, one that gave the man vitality and his general boisterous nature, it was replaced by distaste. Distaste specifically for Volsteath’s bonded. Yes it would be difficult to ever get an entire clutch where there wasn’t one that you did not get along with, K’mar would be that one, but even little Xyr, ignorant as he was at this tender age, could still see that His didn’t believe that one. He would never lose the friendship he had with Deoneth’s, for it kept them both normal. Abstract a concept as that was for the blue, he found it a comfort. Still nothing would come of K’mars obvious power hungry ways, or his distaste for lower ranks. But Ez’ki and Xyruth were far to proud. Even if that would be draconically ranked lower than K’mar. They would never rsee themselves below that boy.

[blueaid]

Z'dayi's gut reaction was to buck the orders of any authority figure, and it showed in the look that shot up to I'dalyn when the man came in, throwing his weight. This was no little boy in the barracks, no child needing a father-figure to guide faltering steps-- and maybe it was that same crisp delineation between boyhood and manhood that held his tongue. He gave the Weyrlingmaster an extra long look, sideways while he exchanged into a clean tunic, but not a word left him to argue or justify his own big mouth.

There wasn't even solace from his dragon. The warmth of self-satisfaction! Tremaith knows it's unwise to speak so frankly of one's ranking riders, so it's no more than the lot of them deserve than some odious chore. This thought he shared with all the awake dragons in the barracks, all disapproval for their rumor-mongering; particularly his own rider's.

Snatching on clean socks, dragging his fingers hastily over his hair, the bronzeling seemed ready in moments to follow I'dalyn's orders. But there was a fair chance laundry duty wasn't going to find him biting his tongue any harder!

[Invisible]

Like many people in his situation K’mar was suddenly filled with a desire to say I told you so. Had he not warned them? Should Salina not have handled it? She was going to be a leader someday and she showed no signs of the ability. K’mar? We did nothing wrong. Why are we being punished as well?[/color] Volsteath was concerned about K’mar being gone for so long. He knew from his rider’s mind that the laundry would be nowhere for a young dragon. He did not want to be separated and that it was happening because of others set his mind to spinning up any number of retaliations. They would not get acted on but perhaps there was something he could do.

The weyrling brown’s mind reached out to find the weyrlingmaster’s own brown. He slid around the older brown’s thoughts to land himself and his distant celebration, now quite dimmed, within the older dragon’s head to ask Pardon, Daisulyth. My rider is too upset to answer and I wonder if I might ask of you a question?[/color] K’mar would be mad when he found out what his dragon had done, but he would get over it. Even at such a young age Volsteath knew K’mar would forgive anything he did. He was his rider’s life and that gave him the upper hand in their relationship.

As for his rider K’mar was saying nothing. What more could he say? He was being punished for what others had done and it made him furious. If the sharding idiots had listened to me. He fumed internally sharing it only with Volsteath and appearing almost disconcertingly calm on the outside. Peace, K’mar. It will be fine. Some will remember your words and next time they will look to you and not some others. It was good what you did. We will gain an advantage and someday those that mock us will see what we can do.[/color] With that thought to settle him K’mar could ignore those who wrongly thought ill of him.

[Xinnai]

Salina felt the storm that came in with the weyrlingmaster and inwardly flinched. Oh yes, they were in for it. She sighed. How could a normally logical and rational man react like...this? She was admittedly one of those who had been gossiping, but rather about the punishments they'd be faced with for this new developement in the weyr. She hadn't even wanted to think about I'dalyn...and K'houry....It seared the back of her eyes.

But the laundry room? She nearly groaned. They were going to die. They were all going to contract heat stroke and die. Still, she could see where the weyrlingmaster was coming from. He must have heard one of the more unsavory remarks. Just thank Faranth he hadn't heard the words between K'mar, Ez'ki and herself! She didn't want to think about what that might have meant.

The little weyrwoman got up quietly, walking out the door without a word. Salina had seen the look Ez'ki had shared with Z'dayi and herself. Okay. Deoneth followed after quite easily, nose even with her rider's hips as the girl tried-vainly, one might add-to catch up with Ez'ki. She didn't really have a hope, considering she was about as tall as one of his legs.

But she began thinking, and the thoughts that came to her were ones she was digusted to have. But maybe, just maybe...She shook it off, but it was nudging at her mind, insistently commanding she listen. But she wouldn't. Not now. Right now, she was marching off to her death.

[dragon]

T'rad was going to respond to Z'dayi, but the weyrlingmaster entered in, seemingly on cue. Oh yes, there was shouting and ordering around. They were going to be worked all day today. T'rad didn't offer any pursing lip, nor felt it necessary to tell the weyrlingmaster that he wasn't really involved. That was all pointless.

But mine. You didn't really do anything. Paleoth pleaded with his rider, not liking the idea of T'rad getting punished. Don't worry Paleoth. It's useless anyway. Might as well try to get this over with as soon as possible. With any luck, I'll get some sleep before the morning. T'rad's words sounded in defeat and Paleoth only grew more unhappy. T'rad did mutter something. "Grease to the fire", he spoke under his breath so he wouldn't be heard. He wanted an I told you so, but that was just as close.

[anhydrous]

With his hands crossed stubbornly over his chest, I'dalyn watched as each of the weyrlings departed. The scowl on his face didn't fade as the last of them walked off, the puzzled young dragons that had been left behind cocking their heads at him curiously. Their thoughts pressed in on his mind, a mix of confusion and injustice shining in their faceted eyes. The weyrlingmaster ignored their little gazes, dragging his foul mood with him like an angry cloud as he stalked towards his office at the back of the barracks. A few heads turned to follow his path, some more interested than others. The slamming of his office door was the punctuation of the issue, a smatter of young dragons flinching and blinking their eyes at the harsh sound.

Daisulyth's consciousness crept past the younglings, sliding through the barrier of the door and flickering against his rider's mind. I'dalyn shoved away the comfort his brown was attempting to offer, earning a surprised withdrawn from the generally calm dragon. Before he could think of an appropriate response, a small slippery thought addressed him by name. Whatever satisfaction that was elicited from such an interruption was well-hidden, although Daisulyth couldn't help but feel pleased to have acquired such memorability.

Volseath's voice was easily recognizable, and Daisulyth made his mind more accessible for the little brown. These younglings were to look to him for guidance, and he was more than happy to offer it. Of course,[/color] He replied without hesitation, aware that it might have something to do with whatever brash action his rider had just taken. The general feeling of unease that was radiating from each weyrling's mind could not be escaped, not even for a brown who had landed on his mate's ledge and was now seeking a fond touch of his jaw to her's.

[Invisible]

Worried as Volsteath was about his own rider he did not let it show to the others in his class. He kept his emotions locked down as much as he could and if his eyes gave anything away it was only in the rapid whirling they did. There was nothing to be done for it since they would be separated so why get too upset? K’mar would be back he knew so until then he would have to set a good example by being patient. When Daisulyth answered he was silent a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing.

What Volsteath asked about was not the punishment. He recognized that others thought it unfair, but I’dalyn was in charge and fair did not matter. They did what they were told. He would not argue the punishment as that would serve no purpose later on. I wondered, Daisulyth, about the behavior of some of the others. I was accused of something I do not understand. I meant not to upset anyone. Perhaps this was our fault for trying to help? K’mar and I just wish to be helpful.[/color] While Volsteath’s voice was always quietly sneaky sounding this time he managed to inject something less sneaky and more woeful. Poor baby brown dragon.

[anhydrous]

Try as he might, Daisulyth couldn’t quite grasp hold of the weyrling’s thoughts. He turned away from Finneth for a moment, blinking against the bright sun and trying to refocus. Just what were you accused of, little one?[/color] He queried in response. The weyrlingmaster’s dragon had not exactly been listening to all of the exchanges inside the barracks, thinking that I’dalyn would have been able to handle the situation once he arrived. Apparently he had been wrong. His rider was not in the right mind to deal with such things.

With his tenderest tone he tried to cheer the younger brown, sensing his woe. You must keep in mind that sometimes the best intentions are fraught with misunderstandings. While it is good to be helpful, sometimes it is better to be unobtrusive.[/color] His general advice held merit, even if he was unaware of the full situation. Daisulyth was very good at keeping his head down and staying in his place. It had kept him alive through weyrlinghood, and from what he understood Volsteath seemed to be in need of a lesson in tact.

[Invisible]

Volsteath was not quite sure of how to explain what happened. He was completely unsure of what exactly had happened. He had not yet been ‘yelled’ at by any of his clutchsibs after all. The response of Deoneth to his words had left the brown baffled. He hoped Daisulyth, being older, could make it clear. He appeared lazy enough in the barracks the way he stayed stretched out on the floor near the door. It was just his mind that was moving.

I was told I reached too high because I talked to her.[/color] Her would be Deoneth whose identity he supplied with a mental image of the young queen. Am I not supposed to talk to her?[/color] Volsteath was pretty sure this was not correct. One day she would be above him, but for now they were all equal in childhood. If we are not to speak to her I wish someone had told me. I would not want to do something I should not. It is important we do only our best.[/color] Because Volsteath had plans, oh, yes, that when he was older he would be able to better put to fruition.

[anhydrous]

After a long pause where Daisulyth conferred with a few of the older dragons who had heard the commotion in the barracks, he returned to Volsteath’s mind with a clearer picture of what had transpired. I think we both know that you were not just talking, little one,[/color] he chided.

Recalling the tone that Volsteath had used and applying it to his next words, Daisulyth attempted to educate the younger brown. Scoldings are not usually appreciated by queens of any age. [/color] While Volsteath might have been trying to help, Daisulyth’s mimic of the weyrling’s tone might clear up whatever misunderstanding he had. There was something distinctly biting in it, unpleasant when applied to any words.

He paused for a moment to bring clarity, shifting his voice back into the assuring teaching voice that I’dalyn had imprinted onto him. Golds are often touchy. You must speak to them respectfully if you wish to be heard.[/color] With a flick of his tail he passed his knowledge on to the younger brown, hoping that he had been helpful.

[Invisible]

Daisulyth said the wrong thing somewhere. There was, for Volsteath, an abrupt withdrawal from his mind by the weyrling brown. The only thought that lingered was I did no scolding. But I see even you think I should not be talking to someone ‘above me’. This I will remember.[/color] In the barracks he rose from his spot to stalk out to the bowl where he would find somewhere sunny to lay and ignore further attempts to speak to him.

[anhydrous]

The weyrlingmaster’s dragon was surprised at Volsteath’s sharp words, blinking as the younger brown extricated his mind from the conversation. That was certainly unexpected. Such bold words from such a small dragon. He shared a chuckle over it with his mate, amused with the way the brown had stalked out into the bowl to pout. It was doubtful that he knew that they could see him, but Daisulyth had his eyes trained on the young brown.

Sensing that he would be ignored, he didn’t make any further attempts to speak. Instead he rested his head over his forearms, eyelids dropping closed while he soaked in the sun and reflected upon what had transpired. It seemed that the weyrling hadn’t been thrilled with the advice that he had received. Daisulyth shrugged and sighed, having done his duty faithfully. He answered the question that had been asked of him, obviously just not gently enough.

It was a pity, really, that the weyrling had chosen to refuse his guidance. Daisulyth had thought that the little brown was smart enough to interpret his counsel without taking unnecessary offense, but apparently Volsteath still had some growing up to do, regardless of how wise he thought himself to be. It was undoubted that the weyrling would grow up to be an invaluable wingrider, but it was so much easier to figure things out when experienced words didn’t fall on deaf ears.