Attitude Adjustment

Perhaps it was a simple refusal to adjust behind why Erisi was still unhappy. As he could recall, up North he had been a far more pleasant person. Up North, he didn't have a reason to be angry every sevenday. The way he had been scooped up and sent down for the sake of some dragonrider purpose had been humiliating and violating of his right to make his own choices. His anger, for once, was perfectly justified. But, by now one would expect that Erisi should just let it go and roll with the punches. Nope. He refused. He had been kidnapped by a group of wherry-brained dragonriders who had no real purpose anymore. Thread wasn't even going to come back, so why, for Faranth's sake, were they really this eager to get their numbers back up?

Erisi visibly twitched as he strung a chord on his gitar and it sounded about as sharp as he felt. These past few sevendays since his arrival on Candidate Isle had been filled with a whole lot of him not wanting to do a thing. He imagined he should apply his trade more, since that was all he had now, but he was still feeling particularly sour. The dragonriders had made a mistake if they thought he was going to do any teaching. Entertaining was more his thing, anyways, but he doubted that would be considered as useful right now.

He didn't much care, he was going to play anyways. It was, quite possibly, the only thing that would settle his mood. Then again, when he stopped playing and remembered where he was, it'd probably come right back again. It was a miniature war going on with his moods, and the nasty one was winning. "For Faranth's sake!" he hissed underneath his breath, frustrated that he couldn't find the right note for the one string he had started tuning. It was going to be a longer day than most.

The Harper was dressed just bearably thin. He'd strip naked to escape the heat if possible, but his integrity would not allow it. The sleeves of his shirt were cut off, the top dropping down into a v-neck. He usually did not enjoy wearing shorts, but they were a necessity for today. For some reason, the sash around his waist simply couldn't be let go despite the heat. He liked it. It was the only thing that made him feel like he was dressed nicely today. The colors weren't to his liking, either. He needed to find someone who was decent at dying clothes and cheap. He longed to have more outfits in a cool blue.

The young man wasn't entirely unnoticeable within the Gather Square. He had taken care in separating himself away from most of the people - he was vindictive enough not to care about making friends. In the North, he had been in his environment, he had a nice set of friends that he liked and knew. Down here, he had nothing, and still hadn't found the drive to make anything out of his new life. This stage should have passed by a long time ago, but he was inclined to hold a grudge.

Or hundreds of grudges, for every dragonrider down here that went along down this sharding merry path their Weyrleaders wanted.

A shadow drifted over Erisi as Ronarth appeared, lithe bronze form flashing warmly in the sun. The dragon bellowed a greeting to his fellows as he circled, spiraling towards the gather square and landing with unexpected firmness. His hard landing jolted his rider, but D'ren was well used to it by now. Ronarth was a strong and somewhat reckless dragon, so it was to be expected.

Not too close to people D'ren warned gently. After all, Ronarth was both large (relatively speaking) and not exactly gentle. Clumsy was probably too harsh of a word. Or was it? Either way. D'ren didn't want him landing right next to the slowly forming crowd. Ronarth obeyed, choosing one of the more open patches to settle in...not far away from Erisi.

D'ren carefully slid down from Ronarth's neck and gave a dragon a pat. "Thank you," he said, running his hand over the dragon's warm, soft hide before turning towards the crowd. The bronzerider had mixed feelings about gathers; they were nice and festive, an excellent chance to rest and relax. They could also easily turn into administrative headaches.

He imagined he would enjoy this one much more as a regular wingrider. Tonight, he would have to show his face and make a lot of small talk. People needed to see their Weyrleader at a special occasion like this! It was a chore, and a little uncomfortable for a modest man like D'ren, but it was his job. He would do it without complaint.

Besides, maybe things would run smoothly. Maybe he could have a drink and find someone to dance with. That would be nice...

I would dance with you if I could! Ronarth said, flaring his wings out in an exuberant way. Good thing he wasn't near the people. D'ren chuckled and shook his head, quickly driving that particular mental image away. "I know you would, friend."

It was unclear to the pair which of them noticed Erisi first. Ronarth may have, out of the corner of one shining eye. D'ren may have noticed the music and wondered where it was coming from. Either way, both partners directed their attention to the young harper at the same time, turning their heads together in an almost comical manner.

Hello Ronarth greeted unashamedly. D'ren sighed and started to walk over..already knowing he would soon be apologizing.

Erisi's gaze cast upwards to the sky as a dragon circled by, lines of irritation creasing his forehead. Then again, it was hard to escape the reminder that he was stuck at some makeshift Weyr. Any sight of any dragon was certain to make the young man frown. Turning back to his instrument, he experimentally strung a few chords, and deciding that it sounded all right, began to play. His music, at least, did not talk back at him, and rarely gave him a headache. It was the one thing he had a true talent for, though if he had applied himself to his learning just as much as he did his music well, he could have said the same thing for teaching. Maybe he had fallen into the wrong Craft, learning and teaching was a huge part of being a Harper, and one part Erisi was stoutly refusing to partake in.

The dragon landed nearby, not close enough that his landing should trouble Erisi, but he could still feel a little gust of wind. It was actually a relief. The day was getting late, but the heat had yet to let up. Erisi wasn't going to be out to enjoy the Gather of a place he hated for very long, sweating made him feel gross. Again, he went back to his guitar, determined to block out everything and everyone. If someone enjoyed or hated his music, he didn't care. He liked it, and right now he was the only person around that mattered.

He was a good portion through a soothing tune that was helping to calm him down more than anything else when he heard a resounding 'hello' in his head. His fingers struck a decisively ugly note in his shock, shoulders jumping and gaze immediately seeking out whatever in Faranth's name had talked to him. Erisi couldn't quite figure it out, and that was frustrating him more than the fact that he had been talked to at all. His hand laid flat over the strings of his guitar to silence it. He hadn't drank at all yet (his taste for wine had been a little soured after his kidnapping, but not permanently so), thus the voice was definitely not just in his head.

He was irritable, not crazy.

Glancing to his side again, he noticed a dragonrider (there was really no mistaking them), and from his estimation a bronzerider. It was a step up from being a Searchrider, since it was usually the Blues and the Greens that got tasked with kidnapping defenseless craftsmen. Oh yes, that was the man that had dismounted from the grossly large bronze dragon. All dragons were grossly large. Erisi enjoyed things that were more his size, or at least not a good twenty times bigger than he.

Erisi had a split second decision to make. He could pretend not to notice the dragonrider and go back to playing, or talk to the man. He wasn't sure which option was more appealing. "Yeeesss?" he drawled in a way that was not entirely mocking, but it was still starting to hint at it. Maybe he needed to vent his irritation a little. This bronzerider was stupid enough to approach him, anyways.

D'ren picked up on the hints of sarcasm in the boy's response, but he chose not to comment about it. There were too many factors at work to assume it was intentional; distance, noise level, hot weather, and so forth. Instead, D'ren strode forward with an optimistic but not overly enthusiastic smile. He'd give the kid some benefit of the doubt, at least until given a reason not to.

Ronarth was far less cautious. He trotted forward, raising his wings briefly to avoid knocking his rider over, and approached Erisi outright. The bronze lowered his head and nudged the youth gently, provoking a sharp whistle and a hustled pace from his rider. "Ronarth! Get back!" D'ren said sharply, more sharply than he would have liked.


Ronarth recoiled suddenly.  His eyes flashed with an alarmed and disappointed yellow. Oh, I'm sorry! he said. His distressed words were aimed at D'ren, but they were open for Erisi to hear as well. D'ren narrowed his eyes sternly, though he felt his stomach churning. He'd only just arrived, and this was happening already?

He turned to Erisi. "I'm terribly sorry about that. He's just a bit overly-friendly is all."

Erisi was comfortable with dragons, as long as they remained at a distance. This one, however, was walking at him. He was no weyrbrat, for Faranth's sake, he had been convinced that all the dragons had died in the plague before he was drugged and hoisted down south to this Weyr. He had no experience with dragons, and no idea what to assume Ronarth was doing by walking towards him. Ronarth was big. Erisi was not. The Harper was convinced that he was going to be trampled by an overlarge dragon. If he had a dragon's eyes, they would be flashing yellow with fear. Instead, his eyes widened, lips parting slightly as if he would yelp. His guitar was very suddenly placed between himself and the dragon, though in hindsight it would probably do nothing to protect him.

He knew dragons didn't hurt people, but instinct said that it was a high possibility right now. The dragon stopped short enough to keep from running him over, but the creature's head lowered to his eye level, and Erisi was sure there were sharp teeth in its mouth. Erisi tried to placate himself in those few moments by using reason over emotion. Dragons really didn't eat people. They were capable of it, but they didn't do it. He had not heard of a single case of a dragon killing and consuming a human, so surely there was no possibility of it suddenly happening now...

Okay, he was still feeling panicked.

And, just maybe, he whined a little as the dragon nudged him. His dignity would never allow for him to openly admit that he had, though. The dragon's rider finally told the creature off, but it did little to calm the young Harper down. At least he was in one piece, right? His panic turned quickly to self-defense, and his blue eyes were a little more harsh when they fixed on D'ren again. "Friendly?" Erisi's voice was a little steadier, but he was still embarrassed by it. "I guess personal space isn't an option." It was difficult to tell whether Erisi was joking or genuinely sour. He felt a little bit of both, anyways. He needed to joke around a little to calm himself.

After a few moments, the color in his face started to return. He had heard Ronarth's apology, and could only assume that it was directed at him. At least the creature felt bad about nearly running him over, right?[/size]

You can't just do that to people. You're bigger than him, you know D'ren said smoothly. He hated to scold Ronarth, but what was a man to do? The beast's manners had never quite matched the rider's expectations. Ronarth was well-meaning, he just needed a firm hand!

I am sorry Ronarth repeated, craning his neck forward and pressing his snout against D'ren's side. D'ren lifted one arm and stroked the dragon's neck reassuringly. "I'm afraid so. Ronarth here is just a bit too friendly for his own good sometime. I'm sure he'll not be repeating that little breach of etiquette, will you love?" He looked pointedly at the bronze as he spoke.

Ronarth's eyes blushed yellow with embarrassing and he produced what might have resembled a cheep in a smaller dragon. No, it will not Ronarth said, trying to swallow his indignation.  He hated being scolded. It made him feel like a fool, and horribly aware of his own shortcomings as well.

D'ren gave Ronarth a reassuring pat before looking back to Erisi. "I don't believe I've seen you about before, son. What's your name?" Probably one of the new crafters he thought idly.  He was aware of each arrival, but rarely remembered their names until he got around to actually meeting them. Ronarth rumbled gently and lifted his head, choosing to look down on Erisi from above, as if that somehow made him safer from scrutiny.

D'ren extended a hand. "I'm D'ren, by the way. Weyrleader. And this is my bronze, Ronarth." He still hated introducing himself in such a pretentious way, but he knew it was important to maintain appearances.

Erisi genuinely hoped that the dragon wouldn't be getting too close again. Dragons were okay at a distance, but when close up Erisi was sure he'd have a stress attack. Hah. That would certainly stick it to the Weyr. They went through all that trouble to kidnap him and he ends up dying not even a turn after arriving. Sure, it wasn't the ideal plan for Erisi's well being, but if he had to die, he at least wanted to stick it to someone while he was doing it. "I suppose when the plague struck, manners became less of a priority." There was little way to discern whether Erisi intended those words as an insult or was merely making an observation. Eventually an individual would learn that it's always safer to assume that Erisi is being insulting above all else. It was a natural talent of his.

A fine eyebrow arched upon his forehead at being called 'son', but if he was going to pick on things today, that was probably going to be the last thing he fixated his ire on. "Erisi," he introduced himself, making somewhat of an attempt to be nice, "Junior Journeyman Harper." It was probably easy to tell that he was not quite happy with his new arrangements. Erisi found it hard to believe that anyone could be happy to be whisked away on a dragon's back to some miserable overheated lands with even more miserable dragonrider company. But, some people didn't shine as brightly as others.

If it was difficult to tell that Erisi was unhappy with his situation, it became insurmountably easier when D'ren introduced himself as the Weyrleader. "Oh." The note was flat, bland, as if D'ren had lost every chance there ever had been to get on Erisi's good side. Whatever warmth there was to Erisi's face faded. Okay, he'd take having the dragon close rather than this man.  D'ren's hand was left hanging in favor of Erisi putting his guitar gently down onto a bench. His arms folded against his chest, eyes casting themselves back to D'ren to give him an unamused expression. "So, how's the kidnapping faring this time of the season?" And he smiled, the sweetest smile he could manage.

He probably shouldn't pick fights with a Weyrleader, especially with his sharding huge dragon looming directly next to him. But, Erisi was in a daring mood, and at least intended to do nothing more than voice his voluminous amount of displeasure.

Oh, nice. One of these.

D'ren managed to suppress his displeasure. It was genuine; after all, he felt horribly guilty about the kidnappings. He wasn't going to let it show to this punk, though. It was a decision that had to be made.

He took a moment to consider his response. He ultimately decided not to stoop to thew harper's level and be rude back. "Kidnappings? Well, it's a shame you feel that way, Erisi," he said, shaking his head slowly and looking up at Ronarth. The dragon's eyes whirled in curiosity and he cocked his head to the side, not unlike a curious feline. I thought they only came off the island if they wanted to join us the dragon stated plainly, his voice strained with the slightest hints of confusion.

"Ronarth does bring up a good point," D'ren said, well aware that his bronze spoke openly and without restrain. The Weyrleader's brow furrowed with displeasure. "I am sorry you feel that way Erisi, but sometimes necessary sacrifices have to be made. These things are ugly sometimes, but there's nothing that can be done about it now. But if you're so unhappy to be here, how is it you've been removed from the island already?" he asked. There was a faint threatening intonation in his voice. His eyes appealed to the boy to make peace, for D'ren hated to think that he might have to do something drastic...like send Erisi back to the island. Wouldn't that be unfortunate?

He waited patiently for the young harper's response, all the while continuing to console his dragon.

Perhaps mouthing off to the Weyrleader was a bad idea, but it certainly felt good. This was a genuine target on which Erisi could vent his frustrations on. This is the man who had at least approved of uprooting people from their lives and thrusting them into new and wholly unpleasant ones. How D'ren could not see the wrong in this situation was beyond Erisi. The dragonriders' needs were not greater than the need to preserve people's free will. "It's not a feeling, it's a fact." Maybe people went willingly with the dragonriders, but if that was common then why was he drugged and brought back here? The impression that Erisi got was that they simply didn't ask. They took what he believed they had no right to take.

The voice that Erisi took to be Ronarth's spoke up again, and he visibly grimaced. The island was not a wholly pleasant place to be dropped on. "These sacrifices aren't necessary. You're taking things way too far, way too extreme. It's absolutely baffling to me that you think that your need justifies what you're doing to people." There was some reason in his voice, but it was greatly clouded by his own ire. How could he not be angry? He had been the type of person to feel vindictive and continue to feel that way for a long time beforehand, and this was not going to change, especially when he was being pushed to do so.

"I was there for a while. I imagine someone took pity on me, or I seemed to be nice enough for half a day." He really did not want to talk about the sharding island, though, and he certainly didn't like the sound of D'ren's voice. These people were absolutely out of their own minds, if this was how they took to treating others who didn't comply to their desires. "Can you really expect every person you steal to automatically adjust? Do you honestly think sticking them on an island for a few days does anything good? We get stolen, that's punishment in itself, and then stuck on a fardling hot piece of land for a few days as even more punishment, when in the beginning we've done nothing wrong. I think your processes are all wrong, D'ren." Right, he wasn't going to address the man as Weyrleader. Why? He was in a bad mood.

"Or, well, maybe that's just what you enjoy doing to people. I couldn't possibly know."

D'ren didn't protest the harper's comments. Erisi had every right to feel that way. While most stolen youth were pleased to lay eyes on living dragonkind, there were always those who resented their losses. They wanted to return to their careers, their families, their friends...their home. D'ren figured that if he was in their shoes, a young man wrenched away from the only life he knew and held in an unfamiliar land, he might feel the same way.

"You're well within your rights to be upset, but just like I can't expect you to adapt right away, I also can't expect you to understand yet," D'ren said, his face suddenly heavy with mellow regret.  He looked apologetically at the young man and openly frowned, but he didn't budge from his actual position.  He felt sweat droplets forming on his brow, but he wasn't sure if he should blame stress or the sharding heat. "But I'm not going to argue with you about it.  I could sit here and explain myself on each little detail, but I can already tell that you're not the sort to be convinced when you don't want to be," he continued, crossing his arms and quirking a brow sternly at the boy.

Poor kid

"I owe you an apology, but not an explanation. What's done is done..it's your job to make the best or worst of it now. I'm sorry, but it's for the sake of the whole world." He didn't try to be particularly solemn, though his face was shadowed with something resembling stress. He hated treating people this way, but it had to be done.

It has to be done he reminded himself softly.

The Weyrleader looked... mildly regretful, and Erisi wasn't sure if he should take some comfort in that or none at all. He felt no comfort. He had family in the North, even if they had irritated him at times, and there were far too many children for his liking... they were his family, and it was now likely he'd never see them again. What were they to think about what had happened to him? Assume that he had died? It was probably better, since there was no way back to them now. He was as good as dead to them now.

"I don't think this weather suits me," he commented softly after a long silence. The comment had far more meaning in it than it seemed. He didn't like it here, he probably would never fully adapt. There was no way he could rebuild everything that he had lost, everything that had been left behind in the north. "Anyways, it's been explained to me before, and from every angle what you've done and will continue to do is unappealing. If I had ever wanted to be a dragonrider, it would not be in a Weyr like this, run like this." The idea of being a dragonrider had never been appealing to him as an adult. As a child, before the plague wiped a great number of dragons off the face of Pern, he probably daydreamed about it as any other young kid. What child did not want to fly? But, as an adult, all he wanted was to sing and play music, and live the life he wanted to live.

He hated having control over his own life snatched away from him like this. "I'm not sure your apology would really be sincere, since if you had to do it twice, you probably would have, for the sake of your Weyr." His hand waved in the air flippantly, as if dismissing D'ren's apology altogether. It wasn't unpleasant to hear one, but it could not possibly be sincere in this situation. "The world can take care of itself. It doesn't need you to do it."

He smiled sadly. "I hope you're right, son," he said wistfully. He loved to think that thread may not return. He would love for history to make a fool of him. It would be worth a hundred generations thinking him a fool if it meant the people of Pern wouldn't have to endure the horrific onslaught of thread. He wasn't optimistic, though. The records didn't lie. Patterns existed, patterns that suggested the return of thread.

Pern would need dragons, D'ren was sure of it.  His belief in thread wasn't pessimistic, at least not in his eyes. It was practical.

"Who knows. Maybe you are," D'ren said with sudden perkiness, though the cheeky, almost sarcastic glint in his eye suggested that he didn't think so.  It was all well and good for Erisi to believe so, though. He was just hurting himself in the long run...and one day, he would see. "But that doesn't change things for the time being. Nor does assigning blame..and in your case, complaining. I don't blame you for having reservations, but if you have grievances, you should go about expressing them in a polite way, don't you think?" It wasn't a suggestion. Erisi was lucky he'd mouthed off to D'ren, and not someone high ranking with a shorter fuse.

Ronarth lowered his head to Erisi's eye level and crooned. It makes him sad to make decisions like that the bronze offered 'helpfully'. He blocked D'ren out as best he could; the unaware bronzerider quickly realized Ronarth was bespeaking Erisi, but he'd missed whatever Ronarth said. He looked at the dragon with exaspiration. "Ronarth, leave him be."

Ronarth exhaled slowly. Besides...! he began hopefully, Don't you want a dragon?

The tension was slowly beginning to ease again. Erisi probably wouldn't consider it wise of himself to start bad talking the Weyrleader, but he was an opinionated sort of person, and more often than not his word was going to be heard. In the end, he wasn't sure he really liked or disliked D'ren. In all likelihood, his emotions leaned towards dislike merely based on the man's position in the scheme of things. D'ren probably had a hand in instigating the ridiculous plot to drag people from the north to the south against their will. That was still unforgivable, and not something Erisi could dismiss.

"I hear being polite is for Senior Journeymen Harpers. I'm still at liberty to talk in any way I please," he said airily. He bent down, picking the guitar up again to give his hands something to do other than grumpily fold over his chest. It was a good thing he did, because his guitar may be needed as a shield when Ronarth's head lowered close to him again. He heard the dragon, and assumed that it meant he was being spoken to.

"Has a hard time of showing it, don't you think? When you feel bad about something, most people usually don't do it." It was a step to be talking to Ronarth, though he felt... mildly embarrassed to be speaking out loud to a dragon that didn't have to move its lips to talk back. It probably seemed like he was talking to himself to anyone who happened to catch what he was saying. "Your dragon is fine... as long as he stays still." Perhaps Ronarth wasn't intentionally seeking out Erisi's death, but it could certainly happen accidentally. One bump from Ronarth would probably break a bone, or five. Probably ten.

Erisi figured he was probably overreacting. "Mmm, no. I like my feet on the ground. I like singing, and I like playing my music. I've never wanted anything much more than that, except for the occasional dimglow to leave me alone." Ronarth was making far more progress with Erisi than D'ren. The dragon couldn't be blamed for his bonded's actions, anyways.

"You're free to have your opinions, but I've already asked you once to be polite," D'ren reminded Erisi casually. He wasn't going to let this kid bother him anymore. He felt pretty terrible, and the encounter had dragged up plenty of emotions that the bronzerider tried to keep hidden. No matter how much he wanted to pity the boy, he still needed to command some respect. He cast a stern look at the younger man. "Speak to me like that again, and I'm afraid I'll have to think of a way to repay your kindness."

He decided to let that be that. He turned towards the gather, which was slowly starting to ramp up. He would need to mingle soon. "Now, you're more than welcome to join in the festitivites and start settling yourself in. It'll be better for you in the long run," he said, though he didn't expect much of a positive response from the youth. He would need time to adjust. They often did. But D'ren was in no position to coddle the boy and beg his forgiveness. Erisi was just going to have to suck it up and take one for the team. D'ren offered him a pleasant smile and a slight wave before turning to head into the group.

Ronarth watched D'ren go and heaved a dragon-sigh. I do not always understand why he decides to do things that he does not want, but he always seems very sure of himself he said. I do not think he would ever willingly hurt people unless he thought he had to...but...

The bronze shifted his thoughts to D'ren. Are his words bothering you? he asked softly. D'ren would have shrugged, were he talking to a person. It's not really that, Ronarth. I can't let every little thing bring me down D'ren said, even though he knew he'd never truly shaken that old flaw. It's unprofessional for me to sit there and argue with him...besides, I won't be changing his mind. I offered a hand to him. It's up to him to accept. he said, at peace with his decision, though as usual he wished it didn't have to be the way it was. He didn't accept the situation because it was right, just because it was the way things had to be.

Sometimes, things just didn't work out. After all, as a dragonrider, D'ren had lost a home, too.

The words were on the tip of his tongue, tempting to incite another argument. He was not sure, however, that he would walk out of it completely unscathed. That was enough to reel his temper in a little bit, enough so that whatever words were about to be born were kept locked in the back of his mind. Erisi knew how D'ren was talking to him, knew that the words were a threat he should heed. The Harper already hated it here, and D'ren could very easily make him hate it more. His words were kept at bay, but his blue eyes were harsh on D'ren's face. At least he wasn't speaking, though his expression said everything. Do you threaten everyone who steps out of line?

After a few moments, he dropped the look, gaze lowering to his guitar as he strung a few simple notes. Erisi usually liked parties, he liked being tipsy, enjoying chatting with people he liked and cared about. But, this party had nothing for him. He'd find no fun mingling with these people who were simply accepting their fates and going along with the dragonriders. "I'm sure that I'm not the only one he's hurt by doing this, but he justifies it because he believes it necessary. Who knows who's really right or wrong, but I'd bet my marks on myself in this situation. Ah, no offense to your rider," he added to try and placate Ronarth in the case he said anything wrong. "But I don't think anything good will come out of stealing people from their homes and lives and plopping them down here."

With the rider quickly disappearing into the crowd, Erisi expected the dragon would likewise stop talking to him soon too. That was probably for the better. There was no stopping the dragon from relaying whatever Erisi was saying to D'ren, but Erisi was not in such a cowardly mood that he'd prevent himself from saying what he wanted.

He was at peace again, playing an intricate tune on the guitar and singing softly to himself. The song was neither particularly melancholy or angry, as if he was trying to hide the fact that he was feeling both of those things.