Hello loves! While I haven't been writing, I have been working on updating some issues that have been hanging around on the layout! The Character change box is now at the bottom of the page, beside the up/down arrows! Green and Gold dragon flight dates have been shifted to the bottom of the page, where the (useless!) discord widget was located. Where the dragon flights were in the header, is now replaced by a Monthly Event box! This will be updated at the start of each month, with a fun mini-event you can take part in, if you want to! Thistle!
13.Sep.12, 04:44 AM
It would have taken blindness to overlook B'jin's reaction, and Talian was anything but blind. The healer leaned back on the palms of his hands, face unchanging in the low evening light. He watched silently as B'jin huffed and fell backwards and shared some unheard exchange with Larrikith, who seemed displeased at the outcome. For a brief moment, Talian found himself wondering for the first time since meeting them what exactly went on between them. He was dismissive of dragons, quick to label them as vile things and instantly discard anything they had to say, but after an entire turn of observation, he knew there had to be something going on in there. In that moment, it was oddly and undeniably evident that B'jin and Larrikith had their own little world in there.
B'jin was worrying about him, Talian knew. B'jin was so kind, always worrying when it wasn't his problem and suffering through so much guilt that Talain no longer felt necessary or vindicated by. He once smiled at the thought of B'jin feeling such guilt, not because he wished the greenrider pain, but because it meant he felt remorse for the horrible thing he'd done. And it was a horrible thing, something Talian would never forget. Sometimes, though, Talian wondered if B'jin realized that forgiving and forgetting were not always the same thing. B'jin was forgiven long ago, even if neither of them would ever escape the reality of what had happened.
B'jin, however, was probably worth it all. No, not even probably...he was. He absolutely was. An unusual sense of calm washed over the young man as he flopped backward beside the man he regarded as his father, thinking about the implications and the unfamiliar and yet fortunate reality he'd just stumbled upon. B'jin was worth it. It was just one thing, but it was something.
"Yes," he answered simply, his voice just as devoid of humanity as it had been before. "I'm perfectly fine. It's..." It's not J'ver he explained to himself, perhaps subconsciously hoping Larrikith would pick up on it and make B'jin understand. "It's fine. It's what I expect from d-...most dragonriders." In a very Talian-specific sort of way, this was a compliment to riderkind. Shortly before, he'd not have hesitated to unapologetically label every rider in the Weyr a torturer and a rapist, while somehow exempting B'jin (and B'jin alone) from that distinction. Now, he was acknowledged that he expected it only from 'most'.
Of course, it also put Valerian in a rather unsavory category in the young man's head, but he was resigned to that much.
"I knew something was bound to happen the moment he Impressed," Talkian said dispassionatly, almost bored. "It's fine, though. It was just sex."
It was just sex. Tal frowned, troubled by his own void concerning the subject. It didn't even feel worth thinking about, and that didn't sit well with Tal. He knew it should have bothered him far more. Discontent, he brushed the subject away. If B'jin watched closely enough, or if Larrikith even tried to pick up on the young man's peripheral thoughts, they would be able to watch as he slammed the subject into the back of his mind.
The healer was silent for a few long moments before rolling onto his side and looking at B'jin, eyes wide and expression gradually softening. "This place is so...stagnant," he observed. "It's like nothing ever happens and nothing ever changes. I can't believe it's been over a turn. I can't even fathom it." He sighed, frustrated. "I...it's almost a relief to not have to see my father anymore. Or the Hall. Or the Master Healer. And I don't miss the sharding pressure..and I can only imagine what it would be like with a baby. But I don't have anything to do, B'jin. It's boring. It's like there's no past and no future. I...I don't understand how you aren't all crazy..."
He shifted onto his back. "Home is painful for me, too. But here is just...nothing. It's just a bunch of nothing." He sounded almost amazed. It was an attitude he'd been holding in for a long time, unable to express without falling into a self-destructive pity tangent. Those weren't completely behind him, but he'd advanced beyond spewing them out loud. Everyone knew how he felt on the matter, and he knew what everyone else would say. He was comfortable setting it aside to discuss the whole thing in other terms. He could even, for the first time, admit to the few good things that came with his incarceration, even if most of them came due to the absence of things from home.
He frowned.
"And don't say 'craft'," he said, his tone rigidly serious until he got to the nbext part. "...Because every other healer in this place is a talentless wherry."
He sat up again and stared comically at B'jin, his expression playful and yet hilariously honest. "Every single one of them!" the healer hissed, as if acknowledgement of their failure was physically painful to him.
Then, he laughed.
B'jin was worrying about him, Talian knew. B'jin was so kind, always worrying when it wasn't his problem and suffering through so much guilt that Talain no longer felt necessary or vindicated by. He once smiled at the thought of B'jin feeling such guilt, not because he wished the greenrider pain, but because it meant he felt remorse for the horrible thing he'd done. And it was a horrible thing, something Talian would never forget. Sometimes, though, Talian wondered if B'jin realized that forgiving and forgetting were not always the same thing. B'jin was forgiven long ago, even if neither of them would ever escape the reality of what had happened.
B'jin, however, was probably worth it all. No, not even probably...he was. He absolutely was. An unusual sense of calm washed over the young man as he flopped backward beside the man he regarded as his father, thinking about the implications and the unfamiliar and yet fortunate reality he'd just stumbled upon. B'jin was worth it. It was just one thing, but it was something.
"Yes," he answered simply, his voice just as devoid of humanity as it had been before. "I'm perfectly fine. It's..." It's not J'ver he explained to himself, perhaps subconsciously hoping Larrikith would pick up on it and make B'jin understand. "It's fine. It's what I expect from d-...most dragonriders." In a very Talian-specific sort of way, this was a compliment to riderkind. Shortly before, he'd not have hesitated to unapologetically label every rider in the Weyr a torturer and a rapist, while somehow exempting B'jin (and B'jin alone) from that distinction. Now, he was acknowledged that he expected it only from 'most'.
Of course, it also put Valerian in a rather unsavory category in the young man's head, but he was resigned to that much.
"I knew something was bound to happen the moment he Impressed," Talkian said dispassionatly, almost bored. "It's fine, though. It was just sex."
It was just sex. Tal frowned, troubled by his own void concerning the subject. It didn't even feel worth thinking about, and that didn't sit well with Tal. He knew it should have bothered him far more. Discontent, he brushed the subject away. If B'jin watched closely enough, or if Larrikith even tried to pick up on the young man's peripheral thoughts, they would be able to watch as he slammed the subject into the back of his mind.
The healer was silent for a few long moments before rolling onto his side and looking at B'jin, eyes wide and expression gradually softening. "This place is so...stagnant," he observed. "It's like nothing ever happens and nothing ever changes. I can't believe it's been over a turn. I can't even fathom it." He sighed, frustrated. "I...it's almost a relief to not have to see my father anymore. Or the Hall. Or the Master Healer. And I don't miss the sharding pressure..and I can only imagine what it would be like with a baby. But I don't have anything to do, B'jin. It's boring. It's like there's no past and no future. I...I don't understand how you aren't all crazy..."
He shifted onto his back. "Home is painful for me, too. But here is just...nothing. It's just a bunch of nothing." He sounded almost amazed. It was an attitude he'd been holding in for a long time, unable to express without falling into a self-destructive pity tangent. Those weren't completely behind him, but he'd advanced beyond spewing them out loud. Everyone knew how he felt on the matter, and he knew what everyone else would say. He was comfortable setting it aside to discuss the whole thing in other terms. He could even, for the first time, admit to the few good things that came with his incarceration, even if most of them came due to the absence of things from home.
He frowned.
"And don't say 'craft'," he said, his tone rigidly serious until he got to the nbext part. "...Because every other healer in this place is a talentless wherry."
He sat up again and stared comically at B'jin, his expression playful and yet hilariously honest. "Every single one of them!" the healer hissed, as if acknowledgement of their failure was physically painful to him.
Then, he laughed.
