Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting (open!)

[Invisible]

Bad luck. There seemed to have been a string of bad luck running around the Weyr of late. Some said it was the Caminar casting a pall over Telgar because they’d been here too long. Too long was the grumblings as winter crept closer to stealing over the Weyr. They should be gone by now. No one wanted them around anymore if they had wanted them there in the first place. The music drew fewer people to listen from the outskirts and got more complaints about the noise. The men creeping around the lower caverns were glared at more often. The women were uppity and not just coy when they refused the advances of one of the riders.

All in all it was time for them to go. And the Caminar were feeling the strain as well. They would need to leave to beat the weather. Leave to get to warmer climes and away from the stone rising up over their camp in the bowl. The older men thought it time to get the younger away from the Weyr’s women. It was never good to let them dally too long with women they would owe nothing to. Otherwise they might get ideas with their own kind. The women were tired of being hit on by the riders and being ignored by their own kind in favor of lower cavern tramps.

Then the Weyr had the sky fall over it at night. Brilliant light streaked across the sky and was said to be an omen by some. Good perhaps or bad. And since then? Since the rider and two residents had dared go out and find one of those fallen stars and bring it back things had gotten weird. An illness that seemed to spread from those who touched the star might seem only an early autumn cold but what if it was not? Tools broke, spit canines broke their chains, tunnelsnakes infested the stores and had still not been entirely taken care of. Some said it was the star’s fault. Some the Caminar. Some just too many people in the Weyr of conflicting cultures.

As the sun set on this night at the end of the 9th month things were reaching another boiling point. The brawl of before was being remembered on both sides and no one thought the other had gotten enough of a beat down. Everyone needed a new lesson. The Caminar should be run off for good. The riders should be shown what happens when they don’t let their dragons interfere. It was this atmosphere that had left Genet nervously awaiting Silvio’s arrival to G’tet’s weyr. Usually she did not watch for him knowing he would come. But tonight she had passed several groups of men getting slowly drunk and thought maybe it would be best.

Maybe she should have known better to let him continue coming, but she couldn’t deny either of them their stolen nights. Unfortunately one restless rider had noticed Silvio’s trips away from the camp and made note of where he was going. A wingmate of G’tet’s he thought he owed it to him to get the filthy Caminar away from his sister. Not just because said sister had shown no interest in him either. Tonight him and some of his mates sat around drinking while watching in the shadows.

[Alsivor]

Things had been tense lately and Silvio had taken to heading up the Bowl wall at night later and later, waiting for full-on dark, taking different paths across the ladders and ledges to G'tet's Weyr. Tonight though, he was tired from a long afternoon spent working on gemstones with his uncle. They'd moved from polishing to the first rudiments of cutting and it was tedious, precise work. Silvio longed for the soothing feeling of Genet's arms around him, of that time when he could let everything fall away and lose himself in her company.

So it was that he was not paying as much attention as usual as he hurried through the camp and out across the Bowl past that shadowed spot where riders lay in wait, drinking.

[dragon]

And J'rad was in the same wing as G'tet. Infact, he was wingsecond, picked recently by S'lyn. But what would such a man be doing socializing? Was he clueless to the events around him? Or did he not care and decided at any rate he'd share a drink with his fellow wingmates? That was likely the scenerio as J'rad wasn't one to turn down a decent drink, and he likely had some influence from his dragon or Althesia, or both. They made a dangerous pair when of the same intent and even J'rad found it difficult to resist.

Yet here he was, drink in hand, in the shadows with his wingmates. He had to admit he'd rather S'lyn's weyr compared to this. He'd actually started making attempts recently to get to know his wingmates outside of duties. He'd even tried his hand at their games of dragon poker. He caught on quickly and found he was a decent player, but by far not the best. He was quiet, only speaking when necessary. This gave him the rigid, tough look he desired. But it wasn't at all false in any manner. Surely some of his wingmates had to agree J'rad was a tough piece of work and certainly not the most enjoyable company to be around, but perhaps they appreciated his attempt at comradery that S'lyn pushed for. Ah yes, he remembered that discussion well.

One would have to wonder if Althesia was in sight. But knowing J'rad, maybe not. He tended to keep his personal life and the life he shared with his fellow dragonriders separate. Though to the latter there wasn't much life at all. Besides the begrudging acceptance of most of his wing, J'rad really didn't care for or could stand the company of most anyone else.

However, there was something notable of J'rad lately. His bandaged hand. By now his wing had to have known he'd broken it, but hardly anyone would know the reason behind it. Some may have ventured to ask, but none would pry J'rad's lips open, especially with the glares and scowls he gave. And he was known to back up any threat that those looks gave. Drink in one hand, bandages on the other and a silence he held closely, here was J'rad.

[Invisible]

J’rad may be unaware of what was going on, but he would be the only one. Other than Silvio walking right into the trap laid out for him. Not that a bunch of drunks sitting in wait was much of a trap, but after a few drinks what were they supposed to come up with? There was much jostling of elbows and punching of arms as they built up their aggression. Along with much wine and beer being consumed. Never forget that.

Genet may not have seen who was down in the bowl, but she couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. At first she tried to dismiss it, but with a frustrated sigh she began to head down to meet Silvio. She knew he was there the same way she always did. Her heart beat faster and she felt warm like her whole being was attuned to his presence. The men who were ‘defending her honor’ didn’t seem to notice she was on her way. In her mind that was a good thing. Not that she knew which men were where exactly.

She would not get there in time to stop a pair of riders from stepping out in front of Silvio to block his path. “Where do you think you’re going?” one of them demanded in a booming voice. “Your kind don’t belong here.”

[Alsivor]

Silvio already had his foot on the bottom-most step to the first ledge up off the Bowl floor when the dragonrider in the shadows boomed at him. The Caminar turned slightly and blinked at the rider's aggressive voice and posture. He was tired, but so tired that he didn't realize that he was potentially in trouble. Still, he kept calm in spite of the sudden rush of blood in his veins and bowed his head just a little, looking humble.

"Good evening, riders, I hope you're enjoying the fine weather. It's a lovely night, isn't it?" He mustered a politely pleasant smile, and tipped his head upward. "I have an order to deliver to a very impatient client." He fingered the piece in his pocket that would stave off those words being a complete fabrication if need be. He kept his foot on that step too, pondering his options for an escape route. Up the wall or back across the Bowl? He was very badly outnumbered if this didn't go well. He was torn between the idea of finding refuge with Genet and drawing the riders away from her if things turned nasty.

[Invisible]

Genet would have laughed if she thought Silvio worried about getting her away from unruly riders since that was her thought as she hurried down to where he was. She was not concerned with her own health thinking herself safe enough. When she was close enough to see what riders made up the group she swore loudly. Those jerks! None had even been interested in finding her missing brother but now they were going to cause trouble in his name? Not if she had anything to say about it. Her pace quickened and she hoped she got there in time to stop things. Or at least in time to help Silvio fight them off. Probably drunk too. What was it with riders spending their down time drunk? What did they have to get drunk over when it wasn’t even a Pass? More swearing that got louder the closer she got would eventually get someone’s attention.

In the meantime Silvio was on his own with the group of men looking for more fun than they could find in a skin or two of wine. “We know what you’re intent on delivering,” one of them said. His knot couldn’t be seen in the darkness, but he was big with blonde hair tied back in a club. “And we’re here to tell you, pal,” he reached out to shove the Caminar with a finger to the middle of the chest, “We don’t think you ought to be doing what you’re doing to our wingmate’s sister. You turn around and keep on going you got no trouble with us.” The snicker that came up from several riders gave lie to those words even more than the spokesrider’s sneer.

[Alsivor]

Silvio's brows lifted slightly as the blond jabbed that finger at him and he spread his hands in a gesture of innocence. "I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding," he said as politely as he could. His own temper was starting to fray. It had been a long day and he was sick and tired of this sort of thing. Hadn't they come to the Weyr to avoid it after all? If they were only going to catch it inside as well, why not just /go/?

The sound of feet and cursing approaching, turned his head slightly and Silvio caught sight of Genet's approach out of the corner of his eye. Oh this wasn't going to make things any better. With her descent, he couldn't prevaricate, try to defuse the situation by pretending to innocence. He held steady for now though. "Good evening, Genet, your brother's wingmates seem to have stopped by for a visit."

[dragon]

J'rad saw the situation unfold before him and he was no fool to it, even if he may have been fool to the intentions beforehand. So one of their kind was visiting one of his wing's sister? J'rad saw the obvious consequences of this situation should it be allowed to continue. But he wasn't going to stop it either. Why? Oh, J'rad had his reasons. Helping a caminar being one of them. But he wasn't going to back up his wingmates either. He did have a broken hand that was still healing, after all. If this got violent, he was sure to cause more damage to his hand. He wasn't going to jump in just yet. He would, however, observe with some form of interest. He was also aware of the swearing that got louder and louder once Genet had arrived on the scene. He was comfortable with his place in the shadows, drink in hand as he sipped it casually. He was far from drunk, unlike some of his wingmates seemed to be. But perhaps in another drink or so, he'd have a decent buzz. If he got that far.

[Invisible]

Silvio and J’rad were not the only ones who noticed Genet. The blond fellow who was stopping Silvio looked over his shoulder. “You best get to your bed, Genet. We’re handling this. You’ve done enough and just wait until your brother gets back.” It was the wrong thing to say because it only made Genet speed up until she could shove her way to where the Caminar stood and stand beside him. Some of the men who were a little more sober shifted uncomfortably where they stood and looked not to J’rad since he seemed to want to stay out of it, but to N’rol who had jabbed at Silvio already.

“You turn around and don’t come back,” he said with a sneer. “You had your fun, but it’s over.” He made to shove Silvio but Genet grabbed at his arm and he was busy trying to shake her off. “Genet, get off it,” he said and turned to give her a shove. “Hey!” was her protest before she stumbled back and let go his arm. “N’rol don’t you dare stand there and dare talk about when G’tet get back when none of you gave a care when I was looking for him.”

She peered around into the dark trying to make note of who all was present. “You all go sober up. It’s disgusting. And what I do and with whom is none of your business at all.” Hands on her hips she stood there until realizing she was no longer near Silvio. In her haste to get by his side she quite by accident kicked N’rol in the shins. His response was to grab her and hold her still. “Let me go, jerk!”

[Alsivor]

Silvio's jaw tightened a little at the tone the rider took with Genet but before he could open his mouth, she was wading into the fray. He couldn't help the grin that slipped across his face at the way she got right up in N'rol's space and gave him what for. "Hey now," he said as Genet grabbed onto the blond to hold him back and his shake sent her stumbling. "That's no way to treat a lady," the Caminar said and started to hold a hand out towards her.

Things got scuffly a moment later and then N'rol was grabbing Genet and Silvio's jaw tensed again. "If this is what you call protection you have a very strange idea of it," he told the rider, "unhand her." He stood straight and tall, though there was something about his stance that spoke of readiness, for fight or flight, weight balancing forward a little onto his toes. Though tall enough and certainly no weakling, Silvio didn't necessarily present a very threatening image, especially not by comparison to some of the other larger, brawnier riders present.

[Invisible]

“Yea, unhand me, jerk!” Genet said and yanked herself out of N’rol’s grasp. She pushed past another rider and stopped at Silvio’s side once more. “You can all move along now. Or else I am going to go wake your wingleader up right now and complain about every single one of you.” There was a brief thoughtful pause in her words and then she added, “And I’ll be informing the weyrleader as well. I am just sure S’lyn would love to hear from J’fel about controlling the men in his wing.”

At her words several of the men backed up and mumbled to one another. They didn’t want trouble with S’lyn and certainly not with J’fel and S’lyn. One of them looked back at J’rad as if the wingsecond might step in and clarify things. He was the senior man present and all so a little guidance was what they sought. In the meantime Genet was glaring at N’rol as she said, “Go back to your weyr and sober up.”

And N’rol? He was beginning to have second thoughts about this whole mess. Clearly G’tet’s sister was some sort of loon. If she wanted to throw her skirt up for some Caminar trash he was beginning to think that was ok with him. Wingmate or not G’tet couldn’t expect them to risk getting punished for protecting his tart of a sister. “You ought to remember,” he told Genet with a drunken sneer, “Your brother may be in our wing, but he’s still just a greenrider. And that’s more than you are so you’re really nothing.”

It was something of a mistake really. Genet wasn’t really concerned about what N’rol thought of her. She had no use for him so it did not matter. But then he had to go and make a disparaging comment about her twin. Without any warning or, really, any thought, she stepped closer to the sneering rider and punched him on the nose.

[dragon]

J'rad watched the ongoings with a silent, but quick eye. This situation was on the fringes of a fight. Pushing, punching, shoving. Oh it was starting alright. But J'rad was still none too interested to stop or edge it on, still keeping himself on the sidelines, uninvolved. But his eyebrow raised at Genet's words. Telling the weyrleader, eh? That was a subject that'd cause mixed feelings among his wing. Surely some of the men would be ready to back down then and there at the mere mention of such a thing. The only thought that proceeded after that was one word. Weakllings. To follow through this far with their intentions, yet to fall short at mere words, at the mere mention of the weyrleader. And if that wasn't enough, some had even eyed him for some sort of answer, retort, or explanation. How truely weak minded could some of these guys be? A scowl crossed his features at any who dared eyed. The intention and implications behind this scowl that was so typical of J'rad was easy to interpret. "Think on your own. Decide on your own", the look, the scowl, practically screamed this. He may have given some form of direction or order as wingsecond, but this was no drill or duty here. These guys would learn to fend for themselves, without their superiors fighting their battles. J'rad took another sip of his drink, pulling away any more contact from the event going on around him. There was still no need for him to step in, yet. Perhaps this would all change soon enough.

[Alsivor]

The riders seemed to be backing off at first. Mostly. And then N'rol started up again. Silvio's mouth opened for an angry retort and then Genet's fist was flying at the blond rider. There was a moment of brief silence as several pairs of rounded eyes were fixed on Genet. "Genet really can handle herself, you know," he couldn't help but point out, trying not to laugh.

A punch thrown was a punch thrown though and before Silvio could reach out to draw her back try to defuse the situation, a dark-haired, sturdy rider put his mug down and waded in, aiming a blow of his own at the Caminar, regardless of the fact that Genet was the one who struck first.

Silvio ducked, blocked aimed a return blow of his own. He was quick on his feet but he and Genet were very outnumbered. This could get pretty bad before it all got better.

[Invisible]

The odds of Genet apologizing for throwing the first punch were pretty darned slim. Even if it got her and Silvio beaten up over it. After N’rol got hit she pulled her hand back and shook it. “Ouch. That was probably not the way G’tet showed me.” But she didn’t have time to complain further because N’rol may have stepped back cursing her as his nose bled but there were others.

One of them swinging at Silvio and she was about to aim a kick at him before he was taken care of by the Caminar. Instead she jumped on the back of another rider sneaking up behind Silvio. “Do not even think about it,” she yelled as she pounded on the guy’s head and shoulders. She was more of a nuisance than a real fighter, but sometimes a nuisance was what you needed.

“You all better stop it right now!” she hollered like they were recalcitrant kids not putting their own toys away. “You will so be sorry!” Yep. That was going to stop them. At least she was trying. Other than throwing the first punch. Speaking of that N’rol was coming back for more wanting his revenge. He grabbed Genet by one of her braids and hauled her off the other rider.

[Alsivor]

Again, laughter was barely withheld on Silvio's side of things even as he laid out that first attacking rider. That particular fellow had reeked so much of alcohol that it was no wonder he hadn't wound up posing all that much of a problem for the sober Caminar, tired as he was. He gave his hand a shake, knuckles reddened by the punch he'd leveled first to gut then to jaw and he turned, set his shoulder into another one of the gathering drunken riders, pushed hard and sent the man stumbling into a group of his fellows.

This bought Silvio some time to whirl about to deal with N'rol. "I told you to /leave her alone/," the Caminar said angrily in his turn and sent his fist flying for the blond rider's face. Not much time to dodge if someone else came up behind him now.