New Friend [Ruen; open]

[Desert]

It was a bad day for Eden's weyrfolk. Zaire had cropped up in one of the beast herds, and for their own safety and that of their other beasts, the whole herd had to be turned loose and driven into the jungle. Most of them probably weren't sick, but the risk of the disease burning through their entire stock of beasts and spreading to the human weyrfolk was too great. Not even the North's Rogue jumped species like Zaire, and it was the greatest menace to the otherwise prosperous Weyr's existence.

The thing that mystified most people except Healers was that Zaire could mow down humans, herdbeasts, woollies, canines, felines, and other assorted beasts, but not dragons, fire-lizards, cion, or wherries. Anyone who thought about it would be able to discern that the difference between them was that Zaire did not affect ichor-bearing beasts, while the red-blooded creatures from old Earth were eminently vulnerable. Healers would cite that Zaire seemed to have an affinity for red blood, turning human organs such as the liver and spleen into massive blood clots, so it naturally would not affect ichor the same way. The Pernese natives were safe from this Terran-born menace.

So while the wild felines prowling the jungle might thin out their population if they managed to catch Zaire from the infected livestock, the other half of Eden Weyr's population were safe and assured. Once the herd was gone, the weyrfolk went back to check the rest of their beasts, now paranoid of an outbreak. Had they been paying attention, they might have noticed a brightly-colored creature slinking about in the background, not camouflaged at all by the sparse trees growing between the weyrhold's buildings.

Eyes wheeling an odd mix of colors watched the newly freed herd with avid curiosity. The base hue was a bright scarlet, though streaks and smudges of cheerful aquamarine and cornflower blue created an awkward contrast and provided a clear indicator that something peculiar was happening to this creature.

Bright, eye-searing blue coated every razor-sharp scale across the cyan's body. The dragon, tiny in stature but built as handsomely as anyone could want, stalked the confused herbeasts with barely-contained glee evident in the blues and seafoams invading the usually-red eyes. Anyone who had been around this cyan enough in the past months - not that anyone wanted to be too close - would notice that Seth was not at home. Seth, whose moodswings had reached an all-time high since B'tok's death, was an unrecognizable dragon; in fact, he wasn't even there half the time or more.

Sometimes, in his place was a misanthropic grouch who called himself Necrosisith. It was easy enough to tell when Necrosisith was about by the shade of his eyes, which were mostly black; they resembled a slowly-cooling river of lava in which the underlying liquid stone occasionally bubbled up. Also, Necrosisith's behavior was starkly different from Seth's: the few times Necrosisith had control, he would find someplace to isolate himself. Usually he would end up hunting - brutalizing his prey, in fact - and then find somewhere to sit and hate the world.

Right now, however, the elated colors in the cyan's eyes indicated the third and most personable entity. Calling herself Vespith, this happy-go-lucky creature was every bit as sadistic and bloodthirsty as every cyan to come before her, but by contrast, she was eternally joyful. She seemed determined to make up for Necrosisith's antisociability and Seth's instability by being the friendliest psychopath anyone would ever meet. Life was a game, and by gosh was it fun! Especially these poor, sick herdbeasts.

Seth had his fascination with dragon- and manflesh, but Vespith personally thought Seth was a silly nincompoop. Herdbeasts were just as tasty as everything else, but what was the point of food if you didn't play with it? She liked to make great, bloody messes with her meals, and how better to make one than with a beast that was about to bleed its life out anyway? She wasn't in any danger of catching Zaire, and the sickly herdbeasts did look so miserable. She felt sorry for them; it would be better to just put them out of their pain.

To catch them, it was a simple thing. Just drive the herd on, and the sick ones would fall behind, too sick and lethargic to run. The worst one didn't even get up. It lay on its side, eyes bloodshot, and watched her approach. Vespith crooned sympathetically at the beast. Poor thing! She pulled it close and nuzzled the fitfully-twitching bovine's shoulder in condolence before she snapped its neck with a flick.

Its insides were a bloody soup, and Vespith enjoyed herself making it look like the beast had crashed and bled out before she finally finished her meal. At the end of it, she resembled one of Talune's crimsons more than a cyan, and trotted cheerily to the Weyr lake to wash up. Blood was fun to play with, but it was terribly sticky and tended to attract all kinds of unpleasant grime that would ruin her dashing good looks.

Vespith giggled to herself at the joke at her own vanity. She was chest-deep in the lake, but with no one to help her get clean, she would have to wallow until the blood washed off. Or, perhaps she could get someone to help! There were lots of unattached humans walking around, and some of the new ones hadn't had time to learn about Seth or Necro's silliness.

Spotting one of the new younglings, a strapping, black-haired lad, Vespith lifted her head out of the water and whistled beckoningly to Ruen. Hello there! You're one of the new candidates, right? I'm Vespith; what's your name?[/b][/color] She regarded the young man with bright blues and greens dominating her eyes, almost camouflaged against her neon-blue scales.


ooc; -flails- you see why i suggested Ves. she's a lot like Ruen, but much more child-like.
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[scottie]

A whole herd of beasts had to be turned out for the creatures of the wild to take care of them thanks to Zaire setting in. It was a loss of meat, though a safety precaution that had needed taking. At least that's what Ruen had heard from the safety of a room in the weyr along with his other candidates. There were rumors spreading, talking going on, bigger kids trying to scare the younger new ones. Of course the trouble maker was involved in that kind of mess. He looked at a nervous young one as if inspecting the twelve year old very closely with his narrowed silver eyes. It was almost as though a predator were sizing up his prey and as the seconds ticked away with out the older candidate saying a word, the younger one clearly started to get more and more concerned. Ruen milked it for all it was worth too. He gave a shake of his head and backed away from the younger boy. "You're gonna die, brat. You've got Zaire. Gonna bleed out of every part of you and wither up, dry right out. Do me a favor and stay away from me."

Panic. Fear. It set in the child's eyes and it made the sturdy candidate smirk to himself and chuckle as he left. There was nothing more satisfying than making a kid who was so trusting afraid. Chaos and mayhem were always entertaining. He tried to stir more of it up as he went, just wandering through the weyr in effort to keep himself entertained. He mindlessly snatched a handful of berries, popping them in his mouth as he went. He had muscle mass to help keep up. That required food so his body had something to burn off other than that muscle on him. He dodged around people, occassionally tripping them or tricking them into thinking they dropped something, watching them fumble around to try to figure out what they were missing afterwards. Small things. Plotting big ones took time and effort which he didn't care to put in at that moment in time.

He bumped hard into another man, one just a few years older. Ruen shot him a kind of sarcastic grin and got a glare in return. "Watch where you're going, hey?" He commented then rolled his eyes and continued on his walking, another berry getting popped into his mouth. Not as good as say meat, but still satisfying until he could get proper food containing meat. Meals. Never happened right when he wanted them. Which was honestly most of the time. "Could have at least apologized. How rude."

He polished off the last of the berries in no time, shoving the last few in his mouth all at once. He firstly attempted to wipe off the lingering stickiness on his pants, however, it was unsuccessful. He was rewarded for the attempt by fabric-fuzzies sticking to the berry juices left on fair hands. Wonderful. He had to scowl down at it, murmuring oathes under his breath at it. Water. Washing them off propperly was the next step. He looked around to get his barings instead of continuing to wander aimlessly around with no proper reason behind him. The closest place he could think of to try to get the berry juice off was the lake. Hands kept carefully away from his clothing, he made the trek, mind wandering all over the place, often going back to complaining over trivial annoyances. Should have grabbed something else.

He closed in on the water, lost to his own world and focused on his goals of the moment. Getting the damn berry juice and fuzzies off his hands. He had crouched down at the edge of the water, reaching down to scrub his hands in it, hardly noticing he wasn't alone until he heard the noise of a big creature in the water. He stopped what he was doing to look up at the dragon, one dark brow raising in amusement in curiousity. The water had washed away some of the crimson, leaving the creature a messy mix of that eye searing blue and the bloody crimson. The thing was like a horrible accident that he just couldn't look away from. Ruen had heard of Cyans, even said he should get stuck with one so it could eat him, but he'd never actually seen one. He knew there was one lurking about, but he thought it'd try to gut him, not whistle at him.

The messy and mischevious looking boy gave up the curious look when he heard her. It was a her. Even more shocking, he could /hear/ her. He'd never actually had a connection with a dragon to hear one like that. He hadn't impressed. He hadn't the ability to hear all dragons either - nor did he particularly want it. It seemed like more of a hassle than a gift. One big headache.

"Uh... Hi, Vespith. My name's Ruen. Looks like you had some real... bloody fun there." He motioned to her bloody hide, brows furrowed in a look of mild concerned. Was he really talking to a blindingly blue dragon? A Cyan? Or was he really losing his mind? He wasn't sure. He really hoped he was still alright in his head. The idea of being sane was one he really liked.

[Desert]

Vespith watched Ruen wash his hands off and waded a little closer, though still keeping her distance. This human seemed wary, but so far not fearful like most of the rest of the Weyr was. They were such party-poopers! She wasn't like Necro who would be perfectly happy if everyone else died. She liked people! They were fun to play with.

The young human who identified himself as Ruen had noticed the blood liberally coating her muzzle, throat, and chest; thankfully, he seemed only wary. So he hadn't had the unpleasant luck of encountering Seth or Necro.

Oh, yes. I just had a snack, and those herdbeasts do get a bit messy. The ones that just got turned out were in such a state! The poor dears, they'll all die off soon, and it seems such a waste.[/b][/color] Vespith ducked her head, a few tinges of gray staining the bright facets. She was truly sympathetic toward the sick beasts.

Anyway, I was hoping that you could help me out, if you aren't doing anything right now. See, I haven't got a rider to wash me off, and blood is always hard to get off unless someone scrubs me with sand. Would you mind, Ruen?[/b][/color] Coyly, Vespith curved her neck, gaping her maw in a smile. I do promise I'm not as bad as everyone says I am. Well, they just know how Seth acts, and he's pretty crazy, so I can't blame them. But I'm not Seth so I don't see why everyone is so afraid of me.[/b][/color]

That statement would probably confuse the poor candidate, but as long as Ruen would help her wash the blood off, she was more than willing to explain that or whatever else he wanted to know. Vespith was a social creature, and she had been denied interaction for far too long.
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[scottie]

So far Ruen had been very lucky indeed. He had been mauled, but he was still alive and it actually hadn't been that bad. However, for every dragon that tried to carve him to bits there were dozens more who didn't. Besides. He wasn't like the rest of the Weyr. Fear wasn't his style. He'd been taught at a young age that if someone or something tried to kill him then he could go ahead and try to kill it right back. He had the same rights as everyone and everything to live and try to kill things.

His lucky streak had included never running into a Cyan until right then, let alone a murderous one who wanted to turn him into a delicious, bloody meal. He rather liked being so raw that he was still alive and well.

He could still hear this one though and that was what was really bothering him. He was pretty sure he shouldn't be able to. Of course, he could be wrong he really never paid attention when people were talking at him or lecturing. He much rather imagined ways to make them scream and entertain himself. "Bet it's one hell of a way to go. A waste... sure... but I'd rather lose them then turn into a big scab and die." Not that it wouldn't be fun or anything.

His head tilted as he looked at the dragon, brows furrowing more as he looked suspicious and curious. How could a dragon not have a rider? Weren't those necessary to their survival? He'd heard about a special case. But only one special case. The name 'Seth' rung a bell. Maybe he should have been paying attention. He shrugged it off though.

"Maybe you should try making less of a mess and it'd be less of a problem." He pointed out logically, though shook his hands to get the water off them before standing. If he was going to help, he wasn't going to soak his clothes and walk all the way back to find fresh ones dripping wet. He stripped off his clothing with the exception of his underwear before wading into the lake. He fished up a handful of sand and approached the dragon cautiously. "Hey, I don't care who the dragon is. Long as they don't try to kill me, I'm pretty alright. You try to kill me though and I'll try to kill you right back, not to offend you, strictly survival. Now, my only thing is - why can I hear you?"

[Desert]

Vespith dipped her head into the water again. With a nictitating membrane protecting her eyes from the water, she could keep the outer lids open and watch Ruen playfully, her eyes resembling great lumps of turquoise lit from behind.

You can hear me because I've made a temporary mind-link with you, silly. Dragons can talk to anyone they want to, really; talking to your rider is easiest, then to riders of another dragon, then people with the potential to be riders. People who weren't Searched, like the older humans in Holds, are kind of hard to reach. But since you're a candidate, your mind is easier for me to link with.[/b][/color]

As Ruen approached with sand at hand, she raised her head out of the water and turned to let him get at the bloody scales. And no worries. I understand that. If someone tried to hurt me then I wouldn't take it lying down either. But you don't need to worry about that. You're a nice person, and I like you; I won't try to hurt you deliberately. Though you might want to be careful with my scales; they're very sharp. Move your hand with the grain of them and you'll be fine.[/b][/color]

As Ruen went to work, Vespith sighed happily and let her eyelids slide closed. Ah, that's nice. Thank you for helping me, Ruen. Most everyone in the Weyr is afraid that I'll be like Seth and they stay away from me. But Seth hasn't been too sane since he killed B'tok, so I'm not honestly surprised. He wasn't the nicest dragon in the first place. About half the weyrfolk here were convinced that he'd sneak into their beds and eat them or something.[/b][/color] vespith snorted slightly. They weren't far wrong, but they don't seem to know the difference between Seth and me.[/b][/color]
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[scottie]

This was not what Ruen had been expecting when he had woken up that morning. Granted, he hadn't been expecting much when he got up, but getting in the lake with a Cyan who could probably rip him to pieces wasn't at all in the realm of his assumed possibilities for the day.

He nodded at her. "Right, of course. Silly me. A temporary mind-link." He went with it, stepping carefully as he moved through the water. He didn't want to step on anything that would hurt his feet. He valued his ability to walk around without pain. "Glad to know I'm easy. Always knew girls secretly liked that."

Ruen smirked at his own weird innuendo, starting to scrub the blood off her blinding scales with the sand. That smirk twisted into a grin as she continued to talk to him. She liked him. That was pretty sure that the only other being in the Weyr that actually liked him was his brother. "Just shows how much you don't know me if you like me. Shards!"

Just as soon as she mentioned to be careful about her scales he managed to catch one the wrong way. He yanked his hand back, letting go of the sand and sticking the mildly injured hand in the water. He pulled it back out to look at the cut before putting it in his mouth, teeth sinking around it as he sucked and tried to sooth it. He pulled it back to glare at it again. "Could have said that sooner..."

Ruen grumbled but stuck his hands back in the water, getting another fist full of sand in the hand he hadn't cut. The cut hand he raised back up, holding it up to try and get it to clot better. He went back to washing the blood off easily. "How does a dragon even go without a rider?"

[Desert]

Vespith had leaned her head to the side to give Ruen easier access to the side of her throat where the blood had started to funnel between the ridges in her scales. When Ruen's finger slid the wrong way against her scales, she whistled contritely and withdrew her head to give him space.

I'm sorry, Ruen. That happens a lot, I'm afraid. We have a magma here, and her rider is always cut up and hurt. Some of it is because Honuth is, well, a magma, but unless you're careful with these scales they can be troublesome.[/b][/color]

With the one side of her clean enough, Vespith waded around until she was facing the other direction, and her other side was available for cleaning. As far as I know, cyans and the part-wher hybrids in Fyr Amenti are the only dragons that can live without a rider. It's because cyans - the few that bother to Impress, anyway - bond so loosely with the human that they aren't as damaged should the rider die.[/b][/color] "as damaged" being the operating term in the sentence.

Generally, I think the two states - having a rider and being riderless - are meant to be mutually exclusive. I haven't heard of a feral cephalo or something Impressing later in life, and the only example I can cite of a cyan who outlived his rider by more than a few hours is Seth. Seth... well, Seth went nuts.[/b][/color] Vespith tucked her head slightly in discomfort.
[/size]

[scottie]

The cut hurt, but it wasn't anything that wouldn't heal on its own or would render permanent damage. The blood was already stopping in flowing. However, he couldn't imagine what it'd be like to ride on a dragon with sharp scales. He could only imagine all the ways that could go wrong.

He broke into a mischeivious grin at her, crooked and toothy, eyes sparkling with mild amusement. "Hey, it isn't fun unless there's blood, right? Never have to worry about those problems. Never gonna have to deal with riding a magma." He wasn't the right gender. Not only that, but he seriously doubted one would be interested in impressing him either.

Once Vespith was turned around and situated, he went back to scrubbing her, washing away the blood, letting it wash off into the water while being as careful as he could not to cut himself on a scale again. He wrinkled his nose a bit in concentration as he listened to her and focused on getting the blood from scales and the ridges. Couldn't leave her a bloody mess.

"That's.... comforting?" He answered not quite sure what to say. It was obviously a bit of a touchy subject given how she tucked her head down, so he did nothing to push at or question more. At least not about that. "What a bloody mess you've got here..."

[Desert]

Ruen's comment brought a trill from Vespith's throat; she tossed her head (carefully) and giggled, swishing her tail in amusement until the water was choppy. You are right, Ruen! No blood is no fun. You are the only one who seems to think that! The others are such party-poopers.[/b][/color]

Then, she realized that her wiggling wasn't getting her any cleaner. Oops, right.[/b][/color] She settled down, then, and dropped her head so that Ruen could get to it again. Still, the humor remained spinning in her eyes, washing the wide gems with greens and blues as vivid and bright as her scales.


ooc; urgh. sorry for the shortness of this; i had a post but when my laptop died it got lost. -facedesk-
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