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+---- Thread: For What It's Worth [Open] (/showthread.php?tid=2148)
For What It's Worth [Open] - S'bel - 23.Dec.13
"Damn," S'bel muttered, pulling himself up and muttering more than a few other colorful words. He didn't make his bed. It hadn't been made when he'd crawled into it. He nearly tripped on an empty wine bottle as he stumbled out of bed, and it clinked and rolled away to hit a wall of his hut. He was sure he needed to bathe. And shave. The usually pristine rider looked uncharacteristically rough, but considering everything, that much was to be expected. He rubbed at his eyes, just imagining the bags that must be under them.
The bluerider had made the minimum amount of public appearances possible following the landslide, enough to let people know he was, in fact, still alive. Not that he believed anyone actually cared about that fact. There was work to be done, and S'bel did his part in what had to be done, and for the rest of the time? The times when there wasn't rescuing or searching or scouting or cleanup for him to do, he mostly drank himself into oblivion, hiding out in his hut in a hazy cycle of inebriation and the hangovers that followed. Because at times like these, S'bel just couldn't fake it. His smiles would do him no good here. They were out of place. He just knew he would tempt fate out there and he would trip up and say something stupid. It would likely be something completely, brutally true, but still stupid at a time like this.
Because once that initial shock that the whole weyr felt wore off, and the despair and denial and everything else set in for many others at Katila, S'bel couldn't even say he was surprised. Something awful had happened to them again? Well surprise surprise. It was nothing new. Dead weyrlings. Dead riders. Nothing new there either. The dead Weyrwoman? Now that was something original, but still didn't surprise the cynical rider all too much. S'bel just felt overwhelming bitterness, and that was nothing new for him.
"But still, I can't just stay in here forever can I?" he said, to himself mostly. No. came Ipsyth's reply. The blue hadn't been himself either since it all went down. He was less talkative. S'bel figured it would soon pass for his dragon, though. Once the more obvious signs of destruction that served as a reminder were cleared away Ipsyth would only need a few days to forget and be completely normal once again. Or at least as close to normal as the blue could come. Still, Ipsyth's voice served as a calming factor for S'bel. He sighed. "Right then," he said with resignation.
And so S'bel put on a clean outfit. He smoothed his hair into a more controlled state and walked out of his door and into the light of morning. There, he glanced over at Ipsyth, curled up next to the hut. He reached out a hand to absentmindedly rest on the blue's neck. The dragon uncurled slightly and looked at his rider. As sure as the clouds in the sky, from this day to the next, we carry on. We always do, S'bel... don't we? S'bel gave a snort of half-laughter at that. "Right you are Ipsyth, right you are." He looked at the ground for a moment, closed his eyes, and exhaled. And when he raised it again, that familiar smiled rested on his face, not a wide grin, but something that was an approximation of optimism or reassurance. More faked, perhaps, than ever, but still there. And so S'bel set off to the regions of the weyr not completely beyond hope where others no doubt gathered. To find food. Company. Something. Something to keep him going, because, like Ipsyth had said, they always did.