Settling In

[M'kel]

Tirenth alighted softly upon the rim of his weyr, then paused for M'kel to slide off his back. The great bronze ambled contentedly down the short stone tunnel to his hollow in the stone. Lowering his head to sniff it, he snorted disdainfully and shot M'kel a baleful look before settling down. His rider chuckled softly, knowing full well that the still rough stone couldn't possibly hurt Tirenth through that thick hide of his; it was just a matter of principle. A newly forged Weyr must be worn in, but somehow the bronze believed that some other dragon ought to wear out his hollow for him. Despite the fact that M'kel had informed him that the hollow then wouldn't fit his One's particular size and shape, the bronze persisted in making his displeasure known.

It's not as it should be, the bronze stated loudly, drowning out M'kel's criticisms. It would be more comfortable with Aviciath, I'm sure. At this, M'kel couldn't help but laugh. A dragon with ambition to match his rider? Could it be possible? Most dragons seemed fairly placid about power and the sort, but then again, it might not be Tirenth's ambition driving his hunger... Like man, like dragon.

Still chuckling, M'kel strode to the curtainless hollow in the stone wall that marked the entrance to his own quarters. Apparently appropriate dividers between quarters and weyr were low on the list of priorities, yet the dragonrider had to admit, it was also the last thing on his mind every time they were out in Pern. He shucked off his boots absently then allowed himself to fall backwards into the mountain of furs on his bed. Now this was something he had been certain to aquire; not that it was cold, for the Southern Continent was in one of its warmest seasons, but because it seemed to symbolize a sort of...wealth. Who could possibly afford to keep more furs than they would ever need besides an important bronze rider, soon to be Weyrleader?

With these loving thoughts in mind, M'kel closed his eyes and placed his hands behind his head, prepared to follow his dragon's example after a long day of endurance flying. Charting the Continent was convenient in that aspect, though it made one want to die of boredom in others. Yes, a peaceful afternoon with no interruptions or catastrophes. That was just what rider and dragon needed.

[D'gellin]

((Hope you don't mind me joining. A 'peaceful afternoon with no interruptions or catastrophes' was too tempting to pass up destroying. XP))

Unfortunately for M'kel, he was one of the few riders available at the moment when a flustered-looking Trilia trotted down the halls.

Q'trismine says he does not hurt. Treating the wound is unnecessary. Minth, her father's dragon, explained calmly as Trilia peaked into yet another empty weyr. This place was positively riddled with places for dragons and their riders to reside but not a single soul was in sight! "Unnecessary?" Trilia huffed, stomping her foot temperamentally even though the green couldn't see her. "Maybe if he doesn't mind loosing his arm."

Finally she heard the tell-tale rumble of another dragon other than Minth. "It's his own fault for forgetting numbweed. I /told/ him to pack some before the jump..." The young girl muttered as she steered herself in the direction of M'kel's weyr and knocked loudly. "Excuse me?" She called "You wouldn't happen to have any extra numbweed, would you?"

Q'tris is very insistent that you pay it no heed. Minth relayed again. "There's a huge gouge in his shoulder." Trilia reminded Minth with pursed lips. "I hardly consider that worth ignoring. No matter what he seems to think, it's going to start hurting him eventually. Probably the moment he gets over his denial." She didn't like the idea of her father being in pain. That and the sight of blood had been making Trilia queasy, so she had chosen to make herself useful instead of sick. This would at least give him time to stop the bleeding and make himself presentable before she returned.

[M'kel]

His eyes were closed against the light from the glows, and his limbs were splayed comfortably across his plentiful furs. M'kel was just beginning to drift down into soothing blackness, when a sharp, insistent knock yanked him back to awareness. Suddenly, the furs were a trap, entangling his limbs as he struggled hastily out of bed. Having been in a state of such light sleep, the unexpected awakening had sent his mind reeling, as his eyes darted frantically around the room to find danger. Finally, unable to free himself from the mountainous furs, he tumbled onto the floor, kicking his way free.

Tirenth raised his head boredly, leaning to stare into M'kel's quarters. He snorted once, then lowered his head again to sleep. It's only a little girl. At this teasing thought, the dragonrider froze, frowning at his great bronze.

"It could have been some other bronzerider, trying to do away with the competition." At this, Tirenth snorted again, closing his eyes determinedly against his rider. M'kel grimaced, hauling himself unceremoniously off the floor and shoving the furs back onto his bed.

You're paranoid. Now answer the door before someone thinks you've killed yourself in all of that ruckus. If M'kel hadn't been one of the Sr. Bronzeriders in Araelen, he would have stuck out his tongue at Tirenth. Instead, he brushed at his clothing to restore some semblance of maturity, straightened his longish hair, and made his way to the door.

M'kel opened the door, striking what he believed to be a perfectly intimidating stance, the epitome of a wrongfully disturbed, important person. However, there was no one to greet his eyes. Not until he dipped his head down, seeking the girl who stood gazing up at him expectantly. I told you she was a little girl.

Ignoring this comment, M'kel smiled awkwardly. He didn't even recognize this Weyrbrat...candidate...whoever she was. Although there was something vaguely familiar about her... "Yes?" he queried, adding a hint of impatience to his tone. Mightily impressive.

[D'gellin]

Trilia flinched slightly at the thumps coming from M'kel's weyr, half wondering if she should stay to make sure everything was alright (as well as to get the numbweed) and half wondering if she should leave now before some psycho confronted her. Finally, however, a much taller man appeared at the door, looking around resentfully for whomever had interrupted whatever havoc he was wreaking in his weyr (for Trilia could hardly assume such noise could be made by an innocent).

She flashed a slightly indignant look at the man for not noticing her right away, but instantly replaced it with a charming smile, disregarding the bite in his question.

"I'm sorry if I've disturbed you. But you wouldn't happen to have some extra numbweed, would you?" She leaned slightly to the left, trying to see past him, incase there was some poor, beaten person lying behind him. That could have explained the ruckus. But her glance showed her nothing out of the ordinary. "My father hurt himself and we don't have any on hand." She added in explanation, light blue eyes blinking with innocence.

The rider was familiar...judging by his knots, posture, and expression, a bronzerider. People of rank tended to appreciate confidence in young children, but she'd caught the slight awkward smile he'd originally given, and chose to throw in some whimsicality to her actions. He didn't very much seem in the mood to want to deal with an overconfident eleven-turn-old anyway.

Q'trismine is going to come get you if you don't come back now. Minth said, a warning edge in her tone that reflected her father's voice.

Oh good, well tell him I've just found someone who should have numbweed, so he should hurry up!

There was a pause. Q'trismine is not pleased, little one.

[M'kel]

As absorbed as he was in exuding just the right amount of arrogance and superiority, the bronzerider did not miss the slight narrowing of the girl's eyes, although this look was gone in a flash, replaced by childish innocence. M'kel was used to the wiles of young ones, for they were the perfect manipulators. He well knew, having grown up with too many siblings to count, and his time out of that environment had not been so long that he'd forgotten. When a young girl had a look like that on her face, she wanted something, and if she played it just right, even he wouldn't be able to reasonably decline.

Trilia's seemingly sincere apology assuaged his indignation to a degree, and M'kel decided at least to listen to her request. Numbweed was hardly unreasonable, and if someone was hurt...

As the girl shifted to glance past him into the weyr, M'kel shifted self-consciously to block her. He suddenly couldn't remember if he'd picked up his garments from the day before, or if they were all strewn conspicuously across the floor. Flushing slightly at such a thought, the bronzerider cleared his throat in a commanding fashion, attempting to draw her inquisitive eyes back to him.

"Your father is hurt?" he repeated, his tone softening somewhat. M'kel scanned the girl once more, noting the condition of her apparel as fairly decent...he could be a kitchen man, or one of the new construction workers helping to shape the Weyr. Why he would ever send a daughter to fetch numbweed from a bronzerider was inconceivable, but the girl undoubtedly panicked and went racing for the nearest help.

"Of course I have numbweed," M'kel scoffed at the very idea of an ill-prepared dragonrider. Thread may not be falling yet, but one could never be too prepared. Yeah, that, or you've been hoping every day to see Thread in the sky so we can plunge in and get scored, which is why you'll need plenty of numbweed on hand for the young ladies to slather all over your reckless self.

The bronzerider coughed, colouring slightly once again. Sometimes, the connection to Tirenth could be quite annoying. M'kel was surprised to note Trilia's eyes turn rather glassy in turn, as if she, too, was being communicated with from afar. However, she was much too young to have Impressed by now, so the young man discarded it as just another of her childish habits.

"A moment, please." M'kel ducked back into his weyr, closing the door as he did so. A moment later, he was back with the jar of numbweed, slipping out of the door and closing it once again. He did not, however, relinquish the jar to the girl, for he was not about to lose a whole canister of the stuff because some dimwitted farmer decided to take it home as a souvenir. "How did he get hurt?" he inquired, gesturing for the girl to lead the way.

[D'gellin]

Trilia blinked suspiciously at M'kel's attempts to block her view of the weyr. If ever there was a sign of guilt...There was something he was hiding in there! But as he cleared his throat she was forced to look back up, feigning innocence once more, though she made a mental note to keep a close eye on this man - he appeared to have the makings of a murderer in him.

"Yes, sir." Trilia replied, nodding her head.

"Ooooh, you do?" Trilia lit up instantly, clasping her hands with delight and slightly over exaggerated admiration. Yes! Now her father could get some numbweed on that gash before any trouble arose! But M'kel's face turned a strange reddish color that confused Trilia. Just what was wrong with him? She remembered the possible body in his room and was instantly on alert again. Did this have something to do with it? She nodded silently as he excused himself, disappointed when he closed his door so she couldn't see anything. Even more troubling, he was very careful to block the entrance as he slipped back out of his weyr. Veeeery suspicious....

Trilia tilted her head up at him as he gave her the go-ahead to lead the way. So eager to get away from his weyr! She glanced back at the door before heading off. "We were unpacking and well, one of his bags got caught in Minth's harness. My daddy tried to pull it loose - I told him to just go up and unhook it but he wasn't listening, like he had an unhappy thought on his mind - and when it finally broke free it slammed into him and he stumbled back into the wall. But there was a sharp angle to the spot where he fell," Trilia rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. "And well, it didn't end very well." She subconsciously hugged herself; that whole event had really given her a scare. If anything had happened to her father!

"Trilia!" Speaking of whom. Q'tris, looking a little more bedraggled than usual, strode down the hall, all sorts of aggravated. His arm was crudely wrapped in some cloth, which was already colored with blood. Though, at the moment, he appeared much more concerned with his daughter than his wound.

"Daddy!" Trilia called with delight, grinning brightly. "Look, I've found some numbweed! Now we can dress that cut properly." She announced, eyeing the wrappings on his shoulder reproachfully.

Q'tris' eyes flickered to M'kel and he seemed to pale at the sight of the bronzerider, faltering slightly, before returning his attention to Trilia. "You really needn't have fetched anyone." He said earnestly, his face flushing slightly in embarrassment. He looked back up at M'kel, though he seemed to have difficulty keeping eye contact. "I have to apologize - she took off before I could stop her. I asked Minth to tell her to come back - I've been looking all over for her - but Trilia can be particularly stubborn sometimes." He eyed the little girl disapprovingly as he said the stubborn bit, a silent scolding.

[M'kel]

((OOC: lol, murderer))

Although Trilia had been excited at his announcement of possessing numbweed, there was also a strangely analytical look in her eyes upon his return. M'kel frowned slighly at noticing this, wondering why she would be looking at him like that. Suddenly, it dawned on the bronzerider. She had seen the garments strewn on the floor, the unusually large heap of furs on his bed...she must think he had a woman hidden in there!

His throat was suddenly dry, and the air was too thick. If M'kel denied it, she'd probably not believe it, instead taking such a statement as confirmation. If he said nothing, she might forget. Unlikely. Of course, the dragonrider couldn't comprehend why this girl's impression of him would matter, but M'kel was young enough yet to care about such things. Image was everything, after all, and he may be flirtatious, but not promiscuous.

It was too uncomfortable a thought to dwell on, so the bronzerider focused intently on Trilia's rambling speech as he followed her down the corridor. Minth? Now that was a dragon's name. Why would this girl be associating with a dragon? Ah. Her father's dragon. She was a Weyrbrat, then. At least that justified her wandering the corridors behind dragonriders' weyrs searching for numbweed.

As they continued down the corridor, M'kel racked his brain for the name of the rider of Minth. That familiar look about Trilia, the name of the dragon. What was the colour again? Not bronze...not brown...

M'kel came to a stumbling halt as Trilia's name was called sharply. His eyes raised and fixed upon the face of a familiar greenrider. Greenrider. Q'tris.

The greenrider seemed as shocked and uncertain as M'kel at their sudden meeting. His eyes slipped from M'kel's gaze, dropping to the floor. The bronzerider felt rather awkward himself, though he didn't know why, and he fixed his gaze lower on Q'tris instead. The tattered strips of cloth wrapped haphazardly about Q'tris's arm drew his attention, and he cleared his throat roughly.

"Ah, no bother, she was no bother." His speech was rather gruff, though not unkind. "Perfectly understandable...a child panicking when her parent is hurt...especially since you've been such a part of her life." Quite an unlikely thing, that, seeing as Q'tris was one of the most unlikely to be with a woman in a manner in which a child could be conceived. "I, uh...I brought some numbweed. Do you need...help?" M'kel was offering to help tend the man's wounds? Trilia certainly had thrown him off balance; he'd usually hand it over and walk away.

[D'gellin]

((lawl, promiscuous M'kel X3

Ar, sorry, short D': I just wanted to reply ;-; ))

Trilia blinked, looking between her father and M'kel. They seemed uncomfortable in each others' presence...Another suspicious action! D: Did her father know about the dead body M'kel was supposedly hoarding? Funny how everything seemed to fit...

Q'tris was at a loss. He hadn't wanted to involve anyone - it was just a scratch for Pern's sake. Trilia had over-reacted and run off, completely disregarding his demands to leave the matter alone. The lack of control frustrated him and he couldn't help a surge of agitation. If she'd only listened to begin with...And now he felt like a fool. He heard the gruffness in M'kel's voice, felt the mutual hesitation and awkwardness. It gave him the sudden feeling that he'd very much like to punch something, but he mastered the impulse and came up with the most civil answer he could muster. "If it's such an enormous deal that it does need proper care, I would...appreciate some assistance..." He admitted after a moment when Trilia glared reproachfully at his reluctance. He'd never hear the end of it from her if he didn't accept the aid. But that didn't stop his cornered feeling, which was slowly growing more alarming.

[M'kel]

Q'tris had accepted his offer of help. M'kel glanced hopelessly at the other's reluctant face, then down the inviting corridor back to his weyr, then at Trilia's narrowed eyes. He recoiled slightly in surprise, for the look of suspicion she continued to shoot between the riders was all too intent, and he knew for certain that she wouldn't soon be forgetting the pile of furs on his bed. He cleared his throat hastily, for M'kel feared that Trilia would leap in and start asking questions, questions made even more awkward by the fact that another dragonrider was standing right there.

"Um, well, yes, glad to help. Nothing else I'm doing, or was doing..." This last bit he directed at Trilia, an almost pleading look in his eyes asking for her to believe him. Feeling uncomfortable meeting the young girl's accusing gaze, M'kel quickly turned to an intense study of the bandaged wound. If it was his choice, he'd simply slather it in the entire jar-ful of numbweed and scurry off. Unfortunately, that might look even more suspicious, as if he was overly eager to return to his weyr. The last thing he wanted was for Trilia to voice her suspicions to her father.

"Right then," M'kel nodded sharply, as if some major decision had been made. "We'll need to wash that out before applying numbweed. We could use the bathing chamber in my weyr..." What?! And have Q'tris view the mound of furs, clothing strewn about the weyr, for himself? M'kel groped around desperately for a solution. "...Or we could go to the...uh...your weyr! Yes. It's close to here, right?" Well, of course it wasn't. Greenrider weyrs weren't located near bronzerider weyrs. His weyr was much closer.

Before Q'tris and Trilia had time to figure this out for themselves, M'kel grasped Q'tris's uninjured arm and Trilia's shoulder, steering them back down the corridor in the direction from which Q'tris had come. A pang of nervousness shot through him again, and the bronzerider hastily released both man and girl, striding along beside them as casually as possible. "Hmm...ummm...how's..." he paused, racking his brain for the name of Q'tris's weyrmate...the man did have a weyrmate, right? "...Your....weyrmate...man...person?" Well of course he was a man. Q'tris was a greenrider after all. What an awkward statement! A trickle of sweat made its way down M'kel's back, and he shook his head, trying to clear this mindless insanity.

[D'gellin]

In all his efforts to remain calm, M'kel's continuous furtive glances toward his weyr did not go unnoticed by Trilia, who was almost certain now that there was something dead and decaying in his lodgings. So she didn't hide her skepticism when he pleaded innocent, quirking an imperious brow at his claim of having been doing nothing.

Trilia's eyes lit up slightly at M'kel's offer to clean out her father's wound in his weyr. Perfect! Now she could see for sure - but no, that wouldn't make sense. Why would he invite them to the scene of the crime? Unless perhaps it was all a ploy to make him appear innocent while the body was shoved into some obscure place...Or herself and her father were the next victims. She turned her face forward to hide the uncertainty as M'kel changed his mind (too abruptly) to go to Q'tris' weyr instead. The clues were less likely to lead back to M'kel if he murdered them in her father's own quarters; the devious...He even steered them away! Something Trilia was quick to show her distaste for; she would /not/ be handled like that. He let go abruptly, but she was on to his game. And seeing as Trilia was by no means a loser, she wasn't about to let him win.

It was out of Q'tris' hands now it seemed; Trilia wouldn't let him escape and now M'kel was going to make a thorough job of cleaning the cut. The thought of going into someone else's weyr was troubling enough but to bring M'kel into his weyr in the state it was in? The thought made him sick; he hadn't even finished unpacking, let alone clean. Was the bed made? Were the clothes put away? /Minth? Status report./

I rather like it the way it is. It looks normal. Minth replied lightly. Normal as in everything's not completely perfect but it's not in total disarray. She added, for Q'tris was on the verge of questioning what exactly she meant by that.

He took a deep, calming sigh. /I'm going to take your word for that./ It sounded more like a threat, but Minth just sent a mental laugh his way. And then M'kel was asking about his weyrmate. Or at least it appeared he was trying to. Q'tris couldn't help giving the bronzerider a peculiar look, suddenly catching on to how anxious M'kel appeared. "Caring for Minth and Trilia are my top priority." Was his curt reply. Which was true - it was his constant time spent with Trilia that had warded off his companion. He couldn't lie that that hadn't hurt him; he hadn't kept up a long relationship since then. But that wasn't something he was about to confide in the apparently discomfited M'kel. Not wanting the conversation to fall into an awkward silence (which could sometimes be worse than an awkward conversation), he continued on the topic. "And...yours? Woman?" He added quickly, thinking M'kel might think he was throwing the 'weyrmate man' question back at him. It wouldn't do well to unintentionally insult the man on top of everything else.

A light went on in Trilia's head. What if the victim were his werymate? "Yes, how is she?" She asked suspiciously, inconspicuously appraised his appearance. A murderer perhaps, but not an ugly one. He was certain to have a love interest. And it could have been that very woman who was dead in his weyr. She'd discover the truth yet!