A Bloody Mess | 75.06.04

There was just something about walking along the beach at night that made Dilan feel calmer. There was no one on his back or in his ear. It was just the sound of the surf and the sound of the wind around him. No one else and he was fine with that. Waves churned and crashed upon the shore and in to his path as he walked barefooted upon the upper edge of the tide. He would stop occasionally when he found a good sized stone or interesting piece of shell. He would examine the pieces in between his fingers before throwing it back in to the churning waves. At times, he would stop and stare out across the dark waters and towards the unseen horizon. Thoughts spun through his head as waves lapped at his ankles and pulled at the sand beneath his feet until the waves urged him to move again.

Andilan wished that he could sleep but his new surroundings made it difficult. The Candidate barracks were a stark contrast to the filthy floor of the hull that he had endured for many Turns. The smells, or lack there of, was enough to keep him awake long in to the early hours of morning. It was all so strange for him and that was why he sought comfort on the beach. Despite how he hated the salt water and all that had happened to him....it was familiar. The sounds and smells were familiar. But he was free now....or as free as a bird in a new cage could be.

The offer of room and board for a time was Korina's offer but in exchange, he would have to be a candidate for the Weyr. She promised that he would enjoy it but after several days, he knew it to be a lie. Honestly, he was indifferent to the Weyr. He was ignored for the most part save for when it came to chores or duties that were imposed upon the Candidates. That little bit had not been disclosed when he first arrived, and so as consequence, he made the effort to avoid his duties and ducked out when he could. By doing so, he earned the ire of his fellow Candidates who had to pick up his slack and the Candidate Masters in charge when they finally caught up to him.

A sliver of disdain curled his features as he heaved a larger stone in to the waves where it landed with a great splunk. He went to turn to walk down further along the beach when an outline caught his eye against the darkness of the sky. A dragon and their rider. They had no doubt seen him at this point, his outline obvious against the waves of the ocean and the meager starlight. The mere sight of them stoked Andilan's temper and so he seethed where he stood. There was no point in running when they were no doubt looking for him and he was certainly not going to make their trip shorter by walking to them. If they wanted him then they would have to come and get him. He picked up another stone and heaved it as far as he could as he waited.

Barlow’s eyes rose to the sound of a firelizard tumbling through the trees. Must be one of Moriya’s. Barlow made the stick disappear once more into his sleeve before merely waiting. Kit poked her head out to get a look at the other firelizard, before retreating back and pressing her head against the back of Barlow’s neck and crooning. His little feline loved to steal his heat. So Barlow waited until Moraiya inevitably arrived. Neither he nor Kit looked particularly perturbed at the moment, and he merely watched the Blood Rider with dark eyes, observing her mood. She spoke, but her mind quickly went elsewhere. That did have him notice that Zojiroth was not present. Odd, he had seen the Blood out. What was keeping him?

This small mystery had his attention more than Moraiya’s comment about what came next. Of course he knew what came next. He lived everyday knowing the sort of things that could happen to him if he was caught. And he did it anyway. It wasn’t like others who would disobey or do such things because they did not think. Barlow thought his actions out. He had been sneaking out just that late since he was a young child. Still, sleep had not become any better at finding him then it did back then. So he kept sneaking out, and when it came to the situation now, he knew how he would take it.

Moraiya’s mind came back to the present situation he could see and she spoke again, with a question that had Barlow inwardly sighing. What on Pern did she expect him to say right now? She KNEW he’d been sneaking out. Incredibly regularly in fact. Maybe lie and say he regretted doing it? Pretend he was like some other candidate and just say what he would to save his own skin? It didn’t matter that much, if he got more chores, he would just do them, if it was something else, he would accept it until it was done. Then he would likely sneak out again until he got caught again. He was not so wry as to say ‘I look forward to being caught again’ like some imagined rebel of the system. Shards, he wasn’t trying for any of that. He just didn’t want to waste time doing nothing. He looked up at Moraiya, looking to be at his full height, which was painfully short for most people’s estimations.

“There is nothing to be said. I submit to whatever punishment you feel is worthy of this offense.” His voice was extremely neutral as he spoke, and his body language was oddly neutral as well. He wasn’t tense, but neither was he relaxed. Everything about him was full of purpose. That’s how he was. He waited to either get chewed out now, or get dragged inside for the chewing out. Kit just snuggled up a little more. The Pink flitter really didn’t see anything aggravating about the situation. Barlow certainly wasn’t, so why would she be? Well, even if Barlow was, she’d think for a while before getting upset.

Her face curled into a frown as Barlow spoke, he seemed so depressing. He was like a weepy Gray, only in child form. She knew all about his sleepless nights, though, and a part of her heart flinched a little at his words. It was her job to punish him. But maybe instead of punish, it was a better idea, this time, to take action? To be honest, she was sick of having to come out and find him every so often. And while she had gotten okay at it by now, it was still a huge pain and a waste of time and good sleep for her as well. Why did he insist on sneaking out so often?

With a heaving sigh, she reached out and gripped the back of his collar, tugging him out of the grass even as Muon fluttered to her shoulder, and wrapped her tail around Moraiya's neck. With a chirp, she regarded Barlow, and then shook her head slowly. Poor kid was caught yet again. But even the fire-lizard knew that her Bonded was having second thoughts about yet another punishment.

By now, Barlow's heels were surely dragging trails in the sand as her pace was quick and relentless on the smaller boy's stride, but she dragged him all the way up to her Blood and deposited him near his left flank. Poking her head from around the leg of the large beast, she took a look to see if Andilan was still there. Sure enough, he was, and so she cleared her throat, causing Zojiroth's gaze to waver from that spot and move down toward her.

"Now then. What to do with the two of you?" She frowned once more, and the Blood rumbled into her head his thoughts on the matter.

Maybe this one should be eaten? he questioned, motioning to Andilan, and she made a face akin to one of somebody who's rump had just been bitten by a canine. With a furious shake of her head, she pointed straight up to the dragon's nose. "I'll have none of that, you bloody wherry!" Moraiya berated, wagging her finger in discontent. Her gaze first fell to Andilan, and she rubbed her mouth with one hand as she thought slowly.

"You. Zojiroth told you, huh? Better watch yourself around Darks, the more involved you get with them the harder it's going to be to make your sweet little cheeks rosy. I can tell you're not goin' to have an easy time at this Weyr... It doesn't like people like us." Her eyes narrowed as she finished her sentence, and she looked him up and looked him down. Oh, she knew the look of somebody willing to kill. It wasn't hard to see, not for somebody like her. But that meant two things. She would likely be his best ally, and his worst friend. She could already tell he was going to hate her by the end of his Candidacy, because she knew that letting up on him was a terrible idea.

"It's chores, for you. Lots and lots of chores. I'm sure you'll hate them, and I'm sure you're going to want to do anything but chores when you're through with even the first chore, but chores it is. Zojiroth here is going to personally oversee your sentence. And if you ever sneak out like this again, it's going to be the Weyrwoman who comes to get you, not me. So hope to yourself that you don't anger Rilora, because I can tell you now that a Queen isn't nearly as small as Zojiroth here, and even he isn't small." She put a thumb to her nose, and wiped it, gave a sniff, then looked to Barlow.

"Now... For you." Her words dripped with disdain; a breeze floated in that caused her to shiver, the light rain having peppered her jacket enough that she could feel water on her flesh. Zojiroth shifted uncomfortably with the silence that followed, even he knew when Moraiya was being serious.

"This is the last time you will be sneaking out. And if I have any sort of say about it, hopefully, it will be the last time you feel the need to. You and I both know that chores isn't a punishment anymore. Your punishment will have to be something else, won't it?" Rubbing her chin, the Candidate Master's icy eyes looked to her shoulder where her little fire-lizard was sitting, and she rubbed the Wood's neck ridges gently. "What'dya think, Muon? Boiling hot water on the toes, or maybe ten lashes to the behind?" She couldn't help but giggle at the thought, but physical punishments were for much more serious offenses.

"Honestly, I'm contemplating knocking you out every night with a swift boot to the head. That way, you sleep, and I feel like I've exacted punishment through physical beatings. What do you think?" Her eyes glowed with a morbid humor, and even Zojiroth wasn't sure if she was serious about that one, but her comment was directed straight at Barlow, so he didn't say anything else about it.

The rain picked up then, drops darkening the sand noticeably around their feet. The breeze picked up as well, just for a moment, blowing their hair about wildly before it settled down. It was getting colder, and later...

It was only a moment or two that Moraiya was gone thus leaving the Blood dragon with Andilan. The young man did his best to ignore the girth of living flesh that bore down upon him like a barely restrained jail keeper. The young man drew his arm back and chunked his last stone in to the rushing sea which had begun to churn and froth as the storm began to come closer. He had long since felt the change in the air but he could feel the hair upon the back of his neck began to rise as the air grew heavier. He heard their approach even across the soft sands but Zojiroth's girth prevented him from seeing them even if he was making a point, or attempt, to ignore all of those around him. Even Moraiya clearing her throat did not draw his gaze to her and he left her talking to his back instead. He missed the surprised expression that flashed across her face at the unheard sound of her Dragon's suggestion.

He turned his head to the side to cast a hardened gaze at Moraiya as she spoke. He smirked darkly at her words because honestly, she knew nothing of what she spoke of. He did not want to become involved with any Dragon, Dark or Traditional, and he didn't care if people liked him or disliked him. Living six Turns upon a boat where your life was worth no more then a dog's had changed his value of other people's opinions. Being betrayed by his father had changed everything....A rude snort passed through him as Moraiya reassured him that he would do his chores and that she would no doubt add more for him to do. He rolled his eyes and turned his face once more to the surf when she reassured him that her Blood Dragon would be his overseer to ensure that he would do his work. He was not afraid of the Dragon and he smirked at the thought of the Weyrwoman chasing after him in the night. He was not worth the trouble. They would probably send her out again to get him. Andilan was her charge...and he was damned if he did not do his part to make her earn her keep as Candidate Master.

It was not the physical labor of doing the chores that he hated. No. He could handle the physical labor. He was used to pouring out his sweat and the rock-hard callouses of his hands told of the countless hours that he rowed the pirate's boat, taking over those who were not strong enough to pull their weight or who were too sick to deal with the physical labor. The manacles had cut visible scars upon his wrists and he rubbed them absently with a scowl upon his features. No, the thing he hated the most...was being ordered to do the chores. Without the pain of the whip to keep him from arguing, he stretched out with his newly found freedom and did what he want, whether it made others happy or not. No one lived or died because he did not do his work.

The wind came upon them and Andilan turned his head against the onslaught of raindrops against his face. With a sly ear he listened to the tortures that Moraiya threatened upon the second Candidate within their mists and he could not help but notice that both she and her mount were wholly distracted as the storm advanced. A dark but playful smirk danced upon his features as he slipped away and began the task of walking back to the Weyr whether they decided to follow him or not. His steps ate up the distance along the beach as the rain began to steadily drum along the stretch of sand as he wrapped his arms tightly around his chest as he walked against the wind. He did not look back to see if they had noticed his disappearance...Moraiya's scream of outrage would surely signal their notice.