An impartial observer, though only one newly come to the scene of Rainbow Mists, could have been forgiven for wondering why the whereabouts of a certain Sr. Wherhandler were any business of a Wingleader. It wouldn’t have been news to anyone else though, that T’kar was looking for Dalonia.
Stretching his legs out into his stride, T’kar continued down the hall. He hadn’t seen Dalonia all day, not even at the Hatching or even at the feast that followed it (taking the place of lunch). Ordinarily, that might not be a big deal, but since he already had a shrewd suspicion of where he would find her, he was of the opinion that she needed a reminder about what they’d already discussed regarding breaks.
Sure enough, as he approached her office, he could see Dalonia sitting behind the desk, head starting to fall forwards. From the look of things, he would guess that she hadn’t moved for several hours.
He strode in, scooped up the paperwork, and dropped it onto the left hand corner of the desk. “You need to take a break, assuming you even know what a break is. You missed the Hatching and the Hatching Feast.”
Between the murders and the stolen egg and everything else involved, Dalonia had been running nearly non-stop for about five days straight. She'd gotten a nap in here or there and had even managed to relinquish control enough to allow Tellard to perform her self appointed nightly rounds, though she'd made it perfectly clear to that smug little prick that if he tried to undermine her in anyway she'd geld him and he could go frolic gayly with his silly little silver beast. If she had it her way, she'd push herself to do it all and then once the ordeal was over with she'd pass out for an entire day and murder anyone who interrupted her. But it didn't look like it was going to work out like that. She didn't have many leads on the missing egg and only had suspicions to possibly tie it to the murders.
She was dozing off, one of her little short naps that kept her from shutting down completely when she was roused by the rumbling hum of every dragon and firelizard in the Weyr. Pest had even started but was silenced with a harsh thought, though ever since the incident at the Turnover celebrations, Dalonia had been a little more lenient about letting the Moonlight perch on her. He had settled in her lap as she'd bent over the papers again, trying to find some sign, anything that might hint at who had been behind the eggnapping. She'd gotten accounts of the night from everyone she could think of. Every guard, wherhandler, watchrider and drudge that had been awake before the Abyss had raised the alarm and everyone in the Weyr.
There were scores of papers in front of her, spread out in some sort of system that only made since to the wherhandler. But with the constant droning of the hatching hum it was hard to focus. She read the same line of one report several times and her head throbbed from lack of sleep and the pervasive headache that she'd been nursing for days. She wasn't sure how long it had been but eventually the humming stopped and rubbing at her forehead, Dalonia settled back in to read the reports yet again. There had to be something she was missing. Of course if it was there she wouldn't find it as before long she closed her eyes, only for a moment, trying to ease the pain behind her eyes, her brow propped against her hand as her elbow rested on the table. It didn't take long for that brief closing her eyes to turn into an impromptu nap.
The next thing she knew Thief let out a little hiss and Dalosk grunted shortly before there was a rustle of papers. Jolting awake, she grabbed for the unsheathed knife that she kept on her desk and had it arching through the air in a downward stabbing motion before she realized who it was that had snatched up her papers and was...wait Hatching and Feast? The knife slammed into the desk with a thud and Dalonia left it sticking there. Pest let out a startled squawk from her lap but refused to leave it in case the woman changed her mind and made him go elsewhere.
Right, the humming that had distracted her. She had meant to go to the hatching, just to make sure the remaining eggs hatched alright that nothing else janky happened. And the feast...she could've gone for an actually hot meal. "I'm busy T'kar. Take your nagging to someone who has time for it." Dalonia growled, yanking her knife from the desk and placing it back where it had been before. Then she grabbed her papers and dragged them back towards her and began to shuffle through them. If he'd messed up her piles...
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Mar 19, 2015 15:07:01 GMT -8
To his credit, or perhaps not, depending on the reason for it, T’kar didn’t react when Dalonia raised her knife. Well, he did start to shift his weight back, but that was all. Indeed, when she growled at him and dragged the papers back toward her, he reached out and pinned them to the table with his right hand, while his left reached out and snagged her knife.
“Dalonia, you need to sleep,” he said, leaning forward a little. He flicked his gaze towards the knife in his left hand. “Star, Shadow, Wamarna, hold this,” he ordered, moving the knife slightly to call attention to it.
Returning his full attention to Dalonia, he continued: “You were asleep at this desk when I came in. You. Need. Sleep.” He enunciated each of the final three words clearly and distinctly, giving them weight, like he thought that would help them penetrate Dalonia’s skull.
When T'kar grabbed hold of her knife, Dalonia hissed. She didn't like anyone touching her weapons. She even hovered when the weyrsmith was honing the edge of her blades. The only time he'd ever touched them was to fetch them from the person who had been in charge of collecting blades at Ice Stone for the festivities. Standing abruptly and ended up with a flit clinging stubbornly to her leg, she snarled and lunged across the desk in an attempt to get the blade back, but the damned dragonrider had already handed it over to his little vermin.
Completely ignoring Pest as he crawled up her chest and settled on the woman's shoulder, the Moonlight clearly expecting to be rousted from the place by either his handler or Thief, Dalonia's hands found their way to her hips as her eyes narrowed. So he was going to bring up this again. Always nagging at her to sleep like a damned creche mother. It certainly didn't help that he'd caught her dozing, but she'd never, ever admit it to him. "I had a headache and had just closed my eyes for a few minutes. I don' know what yer fascination with my sleeping habits is, but ya need t' stop. I have work t' do." She snarled the last bit then thrust out her hand. "Give me my blade. Now."
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Mar 20, 2015 12:47:07 GMT -8
It was ony with an effort of will that T’kar resisted rolling his eyes. Predictably, the woman was denying having been fast asleep and demanding the return of her lethally sharp knife. She seemed to fail to grasp the fact that weapons did not belong in the hands of sleep-deprived twitchy people. The absolute last thing that was needed was for the woman in charge of the Weyr’s security to snap and start stabbing people, after what had happened — was it really only about five days ago? — with K’rad.
“In your current condition, exhausted and over-worked, I wouldn’t trust you near a blade sharper than a kid’s wooden toy,” T’kar snapped. “As to your sleeping habits, I shall certainly stop inquiring after them… just as soon as I am satisfied that you even know what sleep is and that you understand that it is best obtained in a bed and not while seated at a desk.”
"Then give me one of those so I can beat ya with it!" Dalonia snapped. She was really starting to get irritated with him constantly trying to tell what to do like she was a child. She would sleep when her job was done. She didn't understand what she'd done to make him think that she couldn't or wouldn't do her job just because she was a little tired.
Stalking around from behind her desk, she went right up to T'kar and gave him what had become to be known as her trademark scowl; nothing good ever came from it. "Ya going to haul me back to yer weyr and chain me up till I sleep? Why do ya even care? Just because I told ya those things don't mean I'm stupid. I know what sleep is an' I know what my duty is. An' yer just a Wingleader now, ya don't get to boss me around no more." She jabbed him in the chest to emphasize her point.
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Jun 3, 2015 5:48:02 GMT -8
T’kar felt an eyebrow climbing. All the signs pointed to an extremely tired Dalonia, who was refusing to sleep for reasons known only to her. He didn’t think that in her current state he could even trust her with the little wooden knives he’d given Vakaral and Avonia.
“I could, except I don’t make a habit of chaining women up,” he stated, trying to keep himself calm, or at least calm on the surface. It was an effort doomed to failure, the frustration with Dalonia boiling away under the surface, the tension singing through the air… What was it about Dalonia that squirmed under his skin like this?
“Dalonia, for the last time! You cannot do your job when you are passing out from exhaustion! As to not being able to boss you around… would you really rather I dumped this on D’gan’s lap, got told to rein you in, then came back down here and tell you the exact same thing, only leaving marks on both of our records? That is what would happen.”
Her eyes narrowed, her lip curling. He might not physically chain women up but half the time they went toe to toe, he somehow managed to wrap her up in verbal chains, forcing her to do as he willed with threats and demands. The last time he'd come after her about sleeping, he'd refused to let her leave his weyr until she slept...well she could've left but then he would've stalked her back to her den and sat there to make sure she slept. Circumstantial chains! And she just knew that he was going to try and do it again.
Letting out a low growl that was echoed by Dalosk briefly though halfheartedly--the Crimson was a great deal less hostile towards T'kar since Ice Stone--Dalonia clenched her hands into fists as though gearing up for a fight. Her chin lifted stubbornly even as her head throbbed and ached. There! He was doing it again! She knew he would. Boxing her in and chaining her up with his words in a way that very few people were able to do.
"I'm not some wild beast to be reined in, ya idiot. An' if ya go to that man about me, I'll be leavin' marks on YOU!" She snarled and snapped, very much a wild beast for all her proclamations to the contrary. What aggravated her the most was that T'kar now had more knowledge of her than anyone else on Pern and could use it to his advantage in a fight. He knew why she'd been sent to Rainbow Mists by her brothers. There would be more than just a mark on her record if anyone else knew about that. People already didn't like her despite her tireless efforts to keep the Weyr safe. She couldn't do the whole social thing; she didn't know how to make people like her. She knew how to do her job and that was all she could do at the moment.
"Ya know why I was sent here. Why do ya even care what happens to my record? Why don't ya just go tell yer replacement and get rid of me if I irritate ya so much? Everyone seems to love that fool Tellard, why don't ya go bother him instead?"
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Jun 3, 2015 7:16:29 GMT -8
T’kar could literally feel his temper rising. A quick glance towards the door showed it was still cracked, and he stretched his leg back and kicked it shut.
“Maybe because that little fact is not on your ecord and will not be appearing on your record, unless you suddenly go all dimglow and start mentioning it in public,” he snapped back. “Which you would realize, if you weren’t too sharding tired to even think straight!”
Her point about Tellard, he ignored. He didn’t even really know why. Instead, he turned and scooped the paperwork off her desk, setting it in a pile on the floor. “No more paperwork until you take a real nap,” he snapped. What was it with Dalonia and sleeping? He knew she’d do it, he’d seen her do it, but she throw such a fit about doing so you’d think that every time she slept she expected to not wake up.
That didn't answer her question at all...if it had even been a question. She didn't understand why he was always sticking his nose into her business. What did it matter to him whether or not she slept...whether or not she could sleep. Sometimes working until she passed out was the only thing that let her sleep for more than an hour or two at a time.
Even when she was drugged she wasn't free of the various nightmares that plagued her. Her fingers twitched and Pest curled more tightly around her shoulders as T'kar moved her papers to the floor. Did he expect her to curl up on her desk? "I'll sleep when I'm done working." She replied stubbornly. He said she couldn't think straight but she could still think straight enough that her mind wandered back to the attack. Her mind was still working enough that she couldn't stop it from working over the details of the murder and the eggnapping.
"Ya don't even like me. Yer dragon hates me...why can't ya just leave me alone?" A bit of the growl had left her voice. Did she even want him to leave her alone? As much as he aggravated her, he was really the only dragonrider that she even respected enough to actually talk to in full sentences. But since the incident with the fellis, she was more certain than ever that there was no way he could feel anything but contempt for her. What did her previous actions matter when compared to a life of calculated deception? She moved towards the stack of paperwork, reached for it though she knew he would have something to say about it.
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Jun 3, 2015 14:24:53 GMT -8
What was it about Dalonia? Seriously, if there was a single more infuriating woman on the entire face of Pern, the planet would probably shake itself apart just from trying to escape. Fortunately for Pern, there wasn’t one. Unfortunately for T’kar, he was stuck with the one and only.
Without actually thinking it through, T’kar promptly stepped on the pile of papers, pinning them down with his foot. “You are the Wherleader, like it or not. I cannot leave you alone.”
T’kar leaned forward just a little, resting some of his weight on and arm laid over his knee, so that his eyes, almost burnished amber-gold with fury and frustration, where exactly level with Dalonia’s pale green ones. “Besides, you are through working until you’ve slept enough to be able to make good decisions. We’ve already been over why that is, though I suppose I could reiterate it if you’ve already forgotten.”
When a booted foot came down on her papers, Dalonia snarled and barely resisted driving a dagger through it. That restraint alone spoke volumes, considering that two turns before she wouldn't have thought twice about it. Then as he stooped down even as she started to straighten and locked eyes with her. Her left eye squinted as she let out a growl, refusing to budge an inch despite his invasion of her personal space.
"I'd like to see ya try an' make me." She snarled, shifting closer and straightening up to her full height. If he wanted to keep staring her down he'd have to come to her. "Not even a mighty, pompous menace like ye can make a person sleep."
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Jun 22, 2015 20:26:21 GMT -8
“No, I can’t make you sleep,” T’kar said, easily shifting position just enough to keep his eyes locked on hers. “But I can stop you from working until you actually get some sleep.” Anger was still roaring through him, bringing with it links to other emotion, other thoughts.
“Now, do you want to be reasonable and get some sleep, bearing in mind that I can have Ancalanath find out from Dalosk, Pest, or Thief if you actually did, or would you like to stand around here and argue about it some more.”
Dalonia snarled, her lip curling at his threat. It was like this between them much of the time, to the point where there were some in the weyr that wondered how they had managed to make children without killing each other instead. But even as her anger rose she still had vague recollections of their time in the infirmary at Ice Stone Weyr. It was disconcerting and only made her all the more irritable in her exhausted state.
"I will not be reasonable!" She snapped, more just to snap than anything and not quite aware of what words were being spit from her mouth. Not coherent enough to realize it made her sound like a petulant child more than a dangerous and capable wherhandler. "I'd like to see you try and and use my wher against me! He'd sooner eat you than work with you!" Except that was also a lie as the Crimson, over the past couple years, was gradually warming up to the dragonrider. Had even taken simple commands from the man when she'd been attacked. "Leave before I make you leave."
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Aug 20, 2015 0:40:08 GMT -8
T’kar greeted Dalonia’s first snap by throwing back his head and laughing out loud. Maybe not the wisest thing to do, under the circumstances, but… only Dalonia. Only Dalonia would snap something like that. He was still grinning as she snapped out wherry shaffit about her wher being more likely to eat him than anything else. Not counting the wherling training, he’d worked with and around that same wher twice, once when she’d been injured at Ice Stone, and once when she’d been hiding from her brothers by using Ancalanath as a shield. He didn’t doubt the wher would attack him if a sufficiently angry and scared Dalonia ordered it, but he also doubted the wher would attack him without such orders.
“Leave before you make me, eh?” he half-teased, half-laughed, a veneer of humor over annoyance that was fast transmuting yet again to anger. “I’ll leave, just as soon as you’ve slept.”
He stepped forward quickly, intending to catch her and throw her over his shoulder. He knew where her room was, and he could certainly manage to carry her that far… and stay there until she actually slept, too.