Like Old Men {Damien}

[Zirin]

He needed a vacation. That was what he had told the mess that was apparently their new Weyrleadership. He was done, annoyed, frustrated and even his daily workout had done little to help him stay calm. The sharding weyrlings could take care of themselves for a day or two while J'degar took a trip to the Southern Continent. His orginal intention had been to go visit old friends at the Weyr, but once he had arrived on the continent, J'degar realized he really didn't feel like dealing with busy crowds and noisy dragons.

Find us a beach somewhere. We'll spend the day relaxing. He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair as Syphraelth spiralled down to a place they always tended to visit; a nice little bay with a cave just a short walk away. Fruit trees littered the place and it was just shaded enough to be comfortable. It didn't take long for the thirty-five turn old brownrider to drop from his dragon, shimmy out of everything but his pants, and find a tree to lean against, a skin of fellis laced klah in his hand.

He closed his eyes and tried to relax as his heavily scarred brown waddled lazily into the water, fully intending to coll himself off before having a nap of his own. Sometimes it was nice to just do nothing for a day. GarMine, we may not have as long to relax as you may hope. It looks like rain is coming. Well... J'degar felt no interest in heading back to the Weyr when the rain finally came, perhaps they would just curl up in the old cave to wait it out. For now though, the weather was nice and he wanted to nap.

[damien]

Dearheart, we may have to cut this trip short He spoke conversationally his deep almost echoing voice a soft soothing tremor as he turns his great, axe shaped head behind them viewing the sky with displeasure. Dant’ris shifted against the riding straps not even bothering to turn around. He can feel it anyway his bones are aching and there’s a terrible tight pain on his entire left side where his body is all but frozen thanks to the accident turns ago.

He doesn’t even need to say it, Szyth merely locks onto the feeling and shifts his large frame diving down onto the nearest clear patch of land that he can see. It’s only when he’s landed and carefully folding himself to the ground for his rider to dismount does he see the brown, and by extension feel the rider of the other male.

We have company He says simply as Dant’ris, wincing and in obvious pain limps heavily off of his dragon leaning against a near by rock to glower at the brownrider. He doesn’t say anything just glare, he’s not one for words anyway.

With a human like shrug Szyth turns his attention on the brown delicately stepping over to see what he was doing and watches him in the sands. Greeting’s Brother. My Dearheart can not weather the storm out and we are not safe to between back to our home, can we share the nearby caves with you?

Oh what a charming little git. Dant’ris shot him an angry glare before he limps, half dragging his left side over to where the other man was. He towers over him, says nothing for a few moments before he makes a gesture towards the skin he’s carrying.

“If I promise to pretend I like you, would you share?” He grunts, voice harsh and like two rocks grinding against each other. He’s doing his best to hide his fear, the fact that he hurt so very much and shardit he just wants to lay down and forget for awhile.

A little perturbed ‘hiccup’ noise came from the darkness of his shirt and with a wiggle a fluffy form pops its head over the rim of his tunic peering down at the other man with large eyes rimmed in orange fluffy feathers.

“No Maikoe, I doubt he has food.” Dant’ris tries to press the huntyre back into the hiding place but with a chirrup he rolls out awkwardly flapping and falling to land beside ‘Gar where he peers up at him with wide, large eyes.

[Zirin]

Someone comes. Syphraelth rumbled, turning his eyes to the sky. Tell them to leave. Was all the dragon got in response as J'degar lifted the skin to his lips and took a quick swig. Syphraelth liked company though, so somehow he knew the brown wouldn't turn a possible friend away.Greetings friend. Mine and I would be all too pleased to have company. J'degar glowered and gave his dragon a sharp retort. Don't lump me in with you. J'degar was quick to return the glower, not at all pleased at his peace and quiet being disturbed, but at least this rider didn't insist on making much noise.

"Pretend you like me and I can guarantee you won't get anything. Promise not to annoy me though and I suppose it wouldn't hurt to share." He shifted, sitting up a bit straighter and wincing a little as his own wounds reminded him of the incoming weather. He didn't hand over his drink just yet though, not until he had given the little fluffball bird a good stern look that clearly said he didnt have anything for it.

"J'degar." He introduced himself; drinking buddies should know names after all. He lifted the skin and took another hearty swig before holding it up, sighing at the rather strong feeling of the fellis entering his system. He himself was not easily affected by the drug, having developped a mild tolerance over the Turns, and he forgot to mention the strength of the drink. Ah well.

So friend, what brings you and Yours out here?

[damien]

Ha, this was a man he could get used to. A small smirk curves over the right side of his face as he shifts awkwardly lowering himself to the ground beside the brownrider. His movements are stilted and harsh and he has to swing his left leg around before he can lower himself down but the glare he levels towards Gar’ is threatening enough. Say a word, that look says, and you’ll throat will be ripped out with my bare fingers. He flexes them in the dirt for a moment as though he’s pondering doing just that before he gives a little nod.

Figuring out quite quickly that this person was rather mean Maikoe chortled sadly, shifting along the sandy dirt to make his way over to the dragons. By the time he gets there he’s puffed up and rather tired and decides to just sit on the dirt by the waters edge watching them both, feathers puffed up so much that he looks like nothing but a rainbow ball of fluff. Perhaps the dragons would pay attention to him soon? The two leggers would not, clearly.


Accepting the flask Dant’ris smirks a bit as he tags a swig coughing with surprise at the taste of fellis. Ah so he was that kind of man was he? He casts him a look that’s almost a mixture of longing and respect as he takes a longer, second swig before offering it back. The feeling of the drug sweeps through him and while nothing would ever be able to relax his muscles enough that he doesn’t feel pain at least it has taken the edge off.

“Dant’ris, that’s Szyth.” He mutters, jerking his head back towards the bronze who was eying the water with dislike. He makes no mention of the bronze’s odd names for him and instead stretches a bit eyes lifting to take in the darkening sky.

“Going to be a bad one, if I promise not to kill you in your sleep we might be smart to cave up together.” He grunts, shifting uncomfortably at the thought of having to be nice but still it makes sense. There are things that are big enough to make a meal out of them out here, and dragons had bad night vision.

Szyth manages to get his paws wet in the water before deciding that this is far enough thank you very much.

My love does not like people, not really anyway. He wanted to go for a flight but I did not think the storm would come on us this quickly. Is yours er…safe? Well how else was he supposed to ask nicely if the brown’s rider was going to shank his in his sleep?

[Zirin]

J'degar glanced at the man as he struggled to sit, but aside from a quick glance of curiosity, J'degar didn't spare the man much attention. Riders got injured, it was a way of life, and that was all J'degar thought on the subject. Besides, he was here to clear his mind and relax, not feel curious about other people. He turned his eyes back to the water, content to watch the dragons. Syphraelth looked down at the little critter that approached him, and dropped his nose to the ground to get a closer look.

J'degar couldn't help but look back witha chuckle as his drink caused the stranger to cough. Really how foolish was it to accept a drink without asking what it was at least. The longing look was met with mild curiosity as J'degar took the skin back and drank down more of the substance.

"Brown's Syphraelth." He added with a lazy wave at his dragon before glancing back to where he knew the cave lay. "Try it and I can guarantee you won't live to see the morning." He didn't even bother to look at Dant'ris as he spoke, simply shifting to get more comfortable, but there was no rejection to the idea. He could between back to the weyr but he, frankly, didn't want to. A vacation was a vacation, even if it was in a cave with a strange man during a storm. He had had worse vacations.

Syphraelth cocked his head to the side. Your love? Did you bring another with you? Where is she? Syphraelth, understandably, had misunderstood the strange term of endearment and assumed Szyth was speaking of a green. Though the gender confused him. Luckily though, there was a question with which he was soon distracted. Safe? He will defend himself if necessary but Mine will not attack yours. Somehow he didn't quite think that was the right answer, but he had no idea what the bronze was actually referring to.

"I wonder how long it will rain." It was barely more than a mumbled comment, as J'degar didn't really mind the rain. Another sip, and he was offering the skin over again.

[damien]

Maikoe stared bravely up at the other dragon eyes wide as he let forth a string of musical notes. Interested he leans in just enough to poke him gently on the nose with his beak before he burrows in the sand content to stay where he is for now. He’s safe from the water, it can’t reach him here and when it starts to rain, he can smell the wet in the air, he can follow his person-thing into the cave he goes to.

“I like you. You almost make me want to try something, I haven’t had a good fight in ages.” The gruff man spoke up as he accepted the skin again drinking heavily before he hands it back. He needs the fellis, and as much as he hates to admit it feels nice. He thought he got over his need for the drug but you never knew how much pain you were in until you couldn’t feel it. His face starts to relax a bit as he turns his head up to the sky lifting his right arm to massage his left shoulder, a muscle and bone mass that’s just so much useless meat.

“I’d say all night, should storm pretty bad, too.” He grimaces but there’s a flash of something that could be fear on his face. He’s about to say something, perhaps tell the man how badly it would storm, or the proper way to kill a man(when he’s getting dressed in the morning then he can’t hide any weapons) when Szyth speaks and he ‘hears’ what his dragon says.

She? Oh no you misunderstood me, my dearheart is right there talking to your rider! And Szyth does something that’s entirely frightening if you aren’t used to it. Flesh curls back over his mouth and he’s literally grinning, baring his sharp teeth in a parody of a human grin. Dant’ris notices this and he’s quick to hold up a hand just in case the brownrider see’s this as a sign of aggression, which most dragons do.

“He’s just grinning.” He explains hastily as Szyth, distracted by what he thinks is a fish dunks his head in the water only to come up spluttering remembering that he dislikes water greatly. Shivering, dripping and wet he looks mournfully over at the brown dragon.

Can we get out of the water? It’s going to be wet soon enough He speaks to all present, unless of course Gar’ happens to be mind dead.

Dant’ris snorts. “Big useless lump that he is, afraid of a bit of water, you would think that he would realize that he’s larger than anything in there.”

[Zirin]

Syphraelth snorted as the little bird poked him, sending a rush of warm air over his little feathered friend. It was different than His' pet, to be sure, and yet Syphraelth saw similarities. Both were friendly little creatures that were apparently comfortable in his presence; Syphraelth took pride in that.
　
"As fun, and easy, as a duel sounds, I'd rather not. Can't you see I'm on vacation? Find me some other time and I'd gladly take you for a round or two." He paused, watching Dant'ris drink, and though he wasn't what one might call nosy, he couldn't help but be curious. "You drink like a man used to fellis." It wasn't a question, more a statement really, and J'degar didn't require an answer if Dant'ris didn't feel like giving one. As far as J'degar could guess, the man had probably had a dependancy at one point, likely due to whatever was ailing his body, and it could have been a rather strong dosage he used; J'degar had certainly not gone light on this batch of klah after all and the taste and effect were immediately noticeable. Well, everyone had their reasons for turning to fellis.
　
"Mm." He all but grunted in agreement, turning his head to look at the quickly approaching clouds as his hand subconsciously moved to rub at his shoulder, fingers tracing along the deep threadscars, feeling the mild, almost ignorable throbbing that seemed to occur in bad weather. Sometimes he was pretty sure it was all in his imagination.
　
Your dearheart is your rider? Syphraelth lifted his head to regard the riders curiously. Of course, he loved his own rider deeply (and the thought caused an equally strong feeling of love to return to him from his rider) but he had never thought of calling his rider something special; perhaps Love? Sweetheart maybe? Don't even think about it Syphraelth, or I'll fill your den with wherries. Well, that put an end to that particular train of thought.
　
So distracted by the riders, Syphraelth didn't notice the strange behaviour of the bronze, but his rider certainly did. Eyes narrowing he moved to jump up, Syphraelth's name on the tip of his tongue and already calling out with his mindvoice. The brown dragon looked up in time to see it, jumping in surprise and standing to defend himself, but by then he could hear the correction over the mentla link. Cocking his head to the side, he tried to copy the expression, but only succeeded in looking like he was terribly confused.
　
You are strange, my friend, I had thought you were to attack me. I suppose you are right, though the water sooths my leg. Stepping out of the water, he gave a little shake to get the excess off. Grab some sticks on your way Syph. They had done this enough times to know what to do. J'degar, with a grunt of discomfort, J'degar rose and offered his temporary cavemate a hand.
　
"I would consider your dragon wise then. Sometimes it is the little things we need to fear." Thread, for example, was so small and almost insignificant on its own, and yet it was the deadliest organism around.

[damien]

Now soaking yet, though it would have taken a tiny puddle to get him like this, Maikoe chittered his amusement and hobbled back to where the humans were. Giving the mean one a wide berth he shifted over to sit beside Dant’ris. Without thinking the man picks him up placing him on his lap where he’s used to being. Quite happy to be away from the water, even though the fun dragons were in it, he shuffles to huddle up against Dant’ris’ warm covers making sure to nuzzle up into his tunic till he’s barely visible.

Dant’ris had caught the others hand moving to his shoulder and a faint little smile, barely visible, tugs at the corner of his mouth. He knows that movement, he’s done it enough. He gives him a faint sympathetic nod before he rubs his own shoulder sub consciously.

He had started to his feet-almost, when the dragon looked ready to attack and his rider ready to take on a full grown bronze by himself. He managed to muffle his yelp of pain before he got to his knee, the other leg out behind him awkwardly. There was no other way for him to ‘kneel’ anyway, and lying down again was out of the question when the thick clouds above suddenly rumbled with thunder.

I did not mean to frighten you! It’s a grin, I learned it from my d-rider. It shows you are happy with someone, or something. Why should they get to make all the fun faces? Come, Mine wants sticks as well. Does yours have problems with his back? Dant’risMine feels as though he might He was careful to explain his ‘smile’, which had caused so much trouble before he stepped carefully out of the water.

Branches were hard for him to get, his mouth was far too big to pick up simple little human sized branches. He surveyed the land before taking a gentle stroll over to a near by grouping of trees. There he grasped one of the lower branches, thin by his standards but thick enough to make a communal fire out of. Yanking on it he tore it off of the tree trying to ignore the shower of leaves that fell every which way, and on him, as he all but skipped back to his rider with his prize.

Dant’ris took the hand with an obvious frown of reluctance. Accepting help was not something he was used to, not at all. He needs it though and it’s obvious as he lurches to his feet. The left side of his body is extremely stiff making him grimace with pain as he lets go of the hand. Carefully he walks towards the sands leaving a drag mark in it from his left booted foot.

“He also doesn’t like women.” It was the fellis talking perhaps, or just what ever it was mixed with. Oh he wasn’t drunk, nor was he high but he was feeling…calm, something that was new for him and he found himself liking it quite a bit.

“And men, I should have added that. It’s quite nice having a dragon that doesn’t want to chase any of the female ones. Ugh, like I want to end up in bed with even one of those riders.” He shuddered and made his way into the cave, not before motioning Szyth to lay down the branch he had collected.

“At least break it in half.’ He growled gruffly.

With a sigh the dragon lifted a foot and delicately brought it down some where in the middle of the ‘branch’. Splintering under his weight he moved back watching as his rider bent down, grunting in pain, and picked up a few of the pieces.

“Better.” He didn’t ask for help as he moved deeper into the cave tossing the logs in the middle, far from the entrance but not to back; the smoke needed a way out.

“Since we’re going to be stuck with each other for awhile, “ He hissed as he dropped a log on his bad leg going momentarily cross eyed with pain, “You should tell me a few things about yourself. I don’t care if they are lies.”

[Zirin]

I should not have assumed the worst my friend. You must show me how to make fun faces as well, I think. In the end, Syphraelth was a rather laid back brown. Very little affected him strongly, and it had been more his rider's fear that had made him jump so quickly. Syphraelth much preferred to simply relax and let life slip by.

Mine has many pains from Threadfall and training, but none he cannot cope with. We believe a good nights rest may help. It is the wounds of the heart that pain him most. Syphraelth knew he was saying more than J'degar would be comfortable with, but that didn't bother the brown. It was a show of faith, really. He followed the other to shore, and was glad his smaller mouth enabled him to gather wood with a bit more ease, though like Szyth he needed to break brances in half as well.
　
J'degar watched Dant'ris's movements with a light curiosity, though once his hand had been let go of he turned away and continued on, as if there was nothing strange about the way he walked. J'degar could care less about injuries after all; it was a way of life, and clearly Dant'ris was just as capble of caring for himself as any man was. If he expected to be babied or cared for because of his leg, then Dant'ris had stumbled upon the wrong brownrider; he would get no sypathies and would be treated like any other rider.
　
"Syphraelth is particularly fond of chasing greens, it seems. I stopped caring about the outcome of flights long ago." He was mildly surprised that a man of Dant'ris' age would seem so against flights, but he supposed anything was possible.
　
As J'degar carried his own wood to add to Dant'ris' pile, he gave only the barest nod of acknowledgement as the bronzerider hurt himself, but as he had already shown, he had no intentions of babying the man. If he couldn't handle being out and about alone then he wouldn't be here.
　
"I suppose, though the deal goes both ways." There was no way he was talking about himself unless the other was going to return the favor. He dropped down to light the fire, having brought the necessary tools with him, and contemplated as he worked. "I was a wingthird from Southern Weyr, initially, though I left and got saddled with teaching whiny brats and their hatchlings instead. No respect for authority in the lot of them. I think about shoving them off cliffs sometimes... damn Weyrleaders would kick me out fast if I did though. That's the problem these days, everyone's afraid of a little disciplinary action." He wondered what sort of lie he should tell, but then, Gar wasn't exactly one to lie. He simply preferred to use omissions. Dant'ris could assume he was lying if he wanted to.
　
"As you could probably guess, I'm rather fond of klah and fellis. Help yourself to it, by the way, I brought enough to kill me if I drank it all alone. There, your turn."

[damien]

Szyth turned his head to peer at the brown with great interest. He must be liked by the ladies, the bronze figured. He had a nice coloration, muscular features and he all but oozed a sense of manliness, which was what most females wanted, or so he was lead to believe. Having only ever chased once, and having lost spectacularly at it he didn’t quite understand the entire point, and when he was sure both the humans were in the cave did he lay down and start up a rather private conversation.

What’s it like, chasing females and wining? I’ve never bothered, I don’t have the need but I do enjoy the egglets, and watching them hatch. We used to have a human hatchling but… A sigh escaped the great bronze and his eyes grew sad. He missed her.

As if on cue Maikoe chittered as he drew himself against the dragon, being folded gently in a paw large enough to smash him to mush.

Dant’ris was glad for the fire once he had it started. At least he was still good at this, starting fires. He winced at the memory of all those candidates who couldn’t even use flint and tinder! He shuddered, disgusted and accepted the flask taking a hefty gulp of it before he he turned his attention to the brownrider. Ooh, a fellow man of action was he? He could not hide the faint smile that curled the healthy side of his lips, nor the fact that it was entirely animal like and dangerous.

“I got saddled with the candidates myself, since I’m not up to chasing around weyrlings.’ He snorted at that. Not up to it? He could chase them from sun up to sun down if he had to! Oh well.

“Get them while they are young and the possibilities are endless. Shame, they won’t let me do much here either. You know what’s a good form of discipline? Water. Doesn’t leave marks, and it won’t hurt the bond since you got weyrlings. You see, find a pool, or shards if it’s raining that’s even better. Stick them up to their necks if you have the pool of water, or just shirtless outside. Leave them like that for a few candlemarks, tell them for every move they take its another candlemark. By the time they are done they are so bone tired they won’t remember their own names.” He sighed wistfully at those memories.

“Couldn’t tell you where I was born, just found this group of folks because it was this or go to what was it, Ista, fort? Can’t remember, all I know is one of them is supposedly a place were we could have retired. Retired, ha! I still have children to scar for life.’

[Zirin]

The question surprised Syphraelth as he settled down near the bronze, ready to wait out the coming storm. He had to pause in thought, diving into his rider's memories before he could answer. I have not fathered any clutches, but I have claimed a green or two in Flight. Mine wants me to catch a queen, but hatchings make him sad. It is quite the predicament. He lowered his head lazily, glad to be able to just rest. The incoming storm bothered him little. I enjoy showing the females they are wanted. It brings them happiness to be chased by many. It matters little to me if I win or not. In most cases it was true, Syphraelth simply liked chasing to bolster the number. It was only his rider's desire to be Weyrleader that drove him to chase the queens with any form of effort. His eyes whirled with a knowing sadness at the thought of losing family; His knew that all too well.

"Candidates? I like to think I can handle brats just fine, but one day with the candidates took ten Turns off my life." He huffed, recalling the experience. No, he was a man who could overcome anything.. except candidates. He just couldn't handle their sheer lack of discipline and knowledge. He gave a light chuckle at the idea of chasing anyone around. Between candidates and weyrlings, Gar would much rather chase the weyrlings.

"Water huh? I like your style." Yes, he would certainly need to consider it the next time his group acted up. "For the love of my dragon's egg... I had one of those stupid girls complain that I didn't give her time to do up her hair. Her hair! As if Thread wants to wait around for a bunch of weak willed idiots to look nice." Shards he hated the lot of them. J'degar wasn't quite sure why he was willing to ramble on to this man, but shards, if they were stuck in the cave together he may as well do some rambling.

"Retire? At your age?" He glanced over the man, trying to guage how old the other was and, with a nod to himself, decided that they must be relatively near eachother in age. J'degar had no intention of retiring. He planned on fighting until Thread took him. "Last thing any Weyr needs is more disciplined riders retiring and leaving those newly graduated, soft-hearted brats in charge." J'degar was a firm believer in hard work, after all, so if the man was still breathing and able to move around, he oculd make himself useful. Perhaps not in the highest flying wings, but there were other duties to be done.

[damien]

Yes, he supposed that was a way of looking at it. He had thought of it like that before, letting them know they were wanted but he never had a relationship with any of the dragoness before to have to do it. Usually when he saw a female rise she had a good two or three suitors but there was the usual female just turned old enough to rise. He thought about what the other dragon said, how he could make them happy and pondered if he’d be able to even do anything should he win such a flight.

Is there a way to fly and not win, but still show the female that they deserve attention? He shudders to think if he actually was the only suitor for some poor female. That would be cruel to her, unfair. They deserved someone who wanted them and would give them what they deserved, not someone who was only flying in the vain hopes of making their self esteem larger.

He sighs, shifting in the sand to get more comfortable before tossing a rather forlorn look at his rider, wishing he would be able to chase him.

“Next time accidentally have her near a fire, and just as accidentally have it catch her hair.’ The smirk he gives is entirely wolf like and not at all sane-but the point in fact was he was having fun. This man was a kindred spirit, someone who he could relate to, talk to and just have their own grumpy version of fun with. He found himself relaxing against the warmth of the fire listening to the man’s words with a faint snort of amusement.

“No, I’m too young to retire, you are right. A pity though that I can’t stay on the saddle to long, Szyth’s wings there, see how big they are, and those extra muscles of his? He can dance in the air. He could weave his way between greens if he wanted to.” But of course without his rider, he didn’t want to so they were both left to sort things out, neither quite sure what to do.

“Since I don’t remember seeing you around I take it you’re from across the way.” He jerked his thumb towards Trellis. He seemed uncaring if the man was in fact from there. If he turned dangerous he could take care of himself and plus, just because he lived in a place did not mean he danced to the tunes they played.

“Seems like you’re stuck,” he grinned that wolfish insane grin again as the rain began to start, pouring down in sheets.

[Zirin]

Syphraelth gave an amused rumble. Who thought the day would ever come when he would 'teach' a full-grown bronze something. His eyes whirled in amusement. A big bronze like you? Just falling behind on a green's flight would likely do the trick. Or feigning injury I suppose. I like winning, of course, but I like chasing because I don't mind losing. He paused to consider the bronze's words. Did he truly hold no interest in females? It seemed strange, but then again, Syphraelth'sOwn had a minute interest in men, so he didn't see why dragon's couldn't have their own preferences as well. You need not force yourself for their sake you know. There are plenty of males willing to chase.
　
"Ha! That would have the sharding Weyrwomen on me in an instant. Sexual harassment or something like that. I settled for getting them all nice and bloody from butchering." He paused and gave an amused little snort of his own. "I've half a mind to just chop it all off while they're sleeping. Sadly I'm not one for stealth." Ah well. Blood, mud, sweat... the girls would learn soon enough that they couldn't always be picture perfect. At least some of them had learned to get up earlier to deal with appearances.
　
"He's a fine looking bronze," J'degar nodded, his eyes sweeping over the dragon's form. Definitely the type you wanted with you in a wing; sturdy, but swift. A shame his rider was so terribly injured. "But you can ride and that's what counts. The day I lose the ability to fly is the day I go between." He reached up to rub at his shoulder again as the rain began. The Threadscores had been deep, and while he still had, more or less, full use of his arm it did hurt, especially when it rained. It was a constant reminder of the time he had let his guard down.
　
J'degar glanced in the direction Dant'ris indicated, a frown marring his features. Trelis; the land of crushed dreams, it seemed. He should have never left Southern, he had been on the right track back home, but Trelis had a knack for destroying everythng that was important to you.
　
"Unfortunately," He growled, clearly displeased by the notion. If it wan' for his son now being a weyrling, and the debt he owed the old Weyrwoman, he would have left long ago. "I can assume that means you're part of that redicuous Rebellion? Dragon killing dragon, what a waste of resources." J'degar glanced up to see Dant'ris' grin, and returned it with one of his own. He liked this man, this kindred spirit of sorts. Tonight would be fun, no matter the outcome, he realized. Reaching into his pouch, he pulled forth a deck of cards and a few worn marks that no longer held any value. He simply held them up in silent question as he reached to take a hearty swig of his drink.

[damien]

((sorry this is crud))

“It’s not sexual harassment, like you’d touch the kids.” He snorted his amusement though for a moment his look darkened as he stared over at the other man. Eh, surely not. If he was into that he would have shown signs, and being a weyrlingmaster meant he was checked out before-or so he hoped he wasn’t sure how things worked these days. “They can’t blame anyone if they just wake up with the hair missing, you know. But yes, stealth.” He sighed, stretching his good leg and flexing his hand for a moment, feeling the pull of muscle and tug of tightness getting worse. The weather was not kind, he would be in great pain before the night was over.

He took a healthy sip of the drink before handing it back. It was starting to numb some of the pain, which is what he wanted. Not enough, but nothing ever did these days. The lines of pain around his eyes were beginning to slacken some what, and he looked more relaxed.

“Wasn’t much choice, like you said the day I retire, “ He shook his head snorting a bit. “They needed a candidate master and I refuse to take some cushy job that involves me doing paperwork and being treated like im invalid. I know for us, when we are both to old we plan on going out with a bang, not slipping away quietly in some infirmary.” Dant’ris clearly disliked riders who thought it was their ‘due’ to be coddled and treated with respect and allowed to die in a cushioned life.

He eyed the cards for a moment before he accepted them beginning to shuffle the deck. Gambling games were universal and he began to set the deck up for such. “Shame we cant play for real but hey. Better stuck here then listening to the moaning of little children and soft footed riders.”

“It is a shame though, dragons killing dragons, like you said. You don’t sound particularly happy to be at that weyr though. Take it you have little choice?”

[Zirin]

"I spend enough time with the snivelling brats in class, last thing I want to do is touch the bastards." He snorted. Well, it was a half truth; his weyrmate was one of the weyrlings, and he had almost crossed a line with the topazweyrling, though it hadn't been his fault... he had tried to warn the idiot of flightlust! That was a man almost as old as himself though.
"Perhaps I should employ someone to do it. Bet their screams of terror would wake the rest of their classmates." He chuckled to himself, mentally enjoying the imagines screeching. He supposed an alternative would be to employ his old knowledge of potions to knock them all out for the night, then his lack of stealth wouldn't be an issue. Ahh to dream again! He watched, briefly, as Dant'ris stretched, seeing the telltale signs of weather pain. He wondered what had caused whatever ailed him, but it wasn't his place to ask.

"I'll have you know paperwork is a respectable way of passing time. Much preferred to simply resting." Then again, J'degar found that focusing his mind on paperwork was an excellent way to relax, off as that was. "i can't even stand staying in the infirmary for a few days. I don't know how those ingrates can stand being babied while they stay there." J'degar clearly shared similar feelings. It was a dragonrider's duty to live out his life working for the safety of Pern; he didn't care what someone's excuse was, he firmly believed that one should always be working. His current little vacation was the first true break he had taken in a long, long time.

"We need our numbers for Thread, not useless battles simply because someone is easily offended." He shook his head, watching the other rider shuffle. His expression hardened for a minute as he studied Dant'ris, wondering how much information he could trust the other with. Finally, with a sigh, his shoulders sagged and he took on a rather sorrowful look.

"I've done things in my life I am not proud of. I owe a debt and swore an oath. I am chained there until the debt has been paid." A life debt. He was trying to make up for it by preparing the weyrlings for Threadfall, but it wasn't the same. Not to mention, his weyrmate still had many months before she would graduate and be able to leave.

"So what brought you to the little rebel gathering? If you don't mind me asking. I don't particularly care either way."