Looking for Trouble [Invite]

He'd waited. Even after speaking with Talian about Tansy, and overhearing a few words that had led Nejerc to believe there might still be something there that could help clear who might have poisoned D'ren. He hadn't wanted to risk running into S'kef or any others who might be reporting to S'kef. Sure they were looking for the same thing, but it was all a little too convenient in Nejerc's opinion.

It was early yet, those who didn't rise early would still be abed, and those who did rise early were likely to be filling their bellies instead of running around about. If they were then they likely had important things to do leaving Nejerc a little privacy, or so he hoped.

Might as well have pointed a blinking guilty sign over him, to be approaching D'ren's hut so early. Even though Nejerc knew this he was still going to do it, he wanted to check himself, to be certain. If Nejerc could trust anyone to look for him, he wouldn't have. It was risky, and that thought was enough to force Nejerc's steps into a steady approach.

He didn't rush, no that would mean he didn't want to be seen. He didn't go slow, he didn't want to appear afraid either, though he wasn't afraid. Maybe he should have been afraid? That if someone did see him they might think he was up to something. He was, but they might think he was up to something bad, like cleaning up something he might have left behind after poisoning D'ren.

Tsking at himself as his thoughts ran in a mental circle he pushed them aside as he drew steadily closer to D'ren's hut. He might have made sure it was at an early hour and that not many would be up and about to see him, but that didn't mean he'd point the finger at himself more than he already had. He made his approach obvious.

Let someone confront him, what would they have to say? If it had been Nejerc he wouldn't have had anything to say after all there was no proof Nejerc was up to no good.

All of it sat ill with Nejerc was all. He couldn't stand S'kef being weyr leader, and in Nejerc's eyes he WASN'T D'ren wasn't dead. Until D'ren retired, or died the position would remain his to Nejerc. Perhaps Nejerc should have been a little more caring about how he openly felt about S'kef? But who was paying attention to him anyway? It wasn't like he got drunk and yelled it in the dining hall. Even so it wouldn't be enough to pin the poisoning on Nejerc, S'kef and whoever was answering to him would need more. Something solid, something that as yet Nejerc didn't think existed.

He cleared his thoughts as he finally neared D'ren's hut shifting his focus to what he might find, and what he should perhaps look for...

Z’ia? Aveleth’s gentle voice brushed softly against the edges of Z’ia’s mind and the young man’s gaze flickered in the direction his dragon was located. What, kiddo? What are you doing? Z’ia could almost taste the frown of worry in the bitterness it left in the back of his mind from the dragon’s gentle touch. Nothing, Kiddo. Go get some food. He felt the blue dragon hesitate, and he couldn’t say he was overly surprised. Leaving him along was practically asking for trouble, and Aveleth had several years’ worth of memories to back it up if he only poked beyond the limits of Z’ia’s forethoughts.

The young dragon didn’t voice his acceptance, but Z’ia felt his mind withdraw reluctantly as the pale blue dragon launched, winging his way over the Weyr and toward Eastern fields where he could easily pick off an early morning beast for breakfast. Z’ia smiled wanly as he wove between the huts; originally, the tiny bluerider had had no particular goal in mind, besides a trip to the Hall for breakfast, and then possibly seeking out some source of entertainment to fill his morning.

Apparently, he would be eating after the show, Z’ia raked his fingers through his hair, pulling the shoulder length curls back and tying them messily with a leather tie. Most of the hair he had just pulled back and out of his face rapidly fell free, the tangled curls springing from their confines to tumble down and frame his face; Z’ia ignored them. Steady green eyes were, instead, focused on the rather questionable body of a tall man angling toward the Weyrleader’s hut. Z’ia’s eyebrows arched curiously, while his pulse sped up with the influx of excited adrenaline.

Z’ia enjoyed situations in which his blood was made to pump, the warmth of adrenaline filling his very blood with the heated excitement of the situation of which it was brought about in. Z’ia knew, quite well, that he shouldn’t be inviting trouble down upon himself – the young man had remained out of the line of fire thus far (something he had joked to D’hys about not being difficult, when you only come up to most men’s’ knees; an exaggeration, perhaps, but not by much!) and certainly snooping around the bronzerider’s hut with what was obviously (in Z’ia’s opinion) a trouble maker would call attention, and probably not the good sort.

Z’ia grinned. Trouble had never been something to encourage the young man to behave. Rules, boundaries, consequences – they were nothing more than challenges to be overcome. Come what may, who may, Z’ia was not afraid, and in fact, his blatant and carefree attitude was clear as day as the young man crept up behind the much taller Candidate, clearing his throat dramatically from several feet away.

“Looking for something, Candi?” His voice was soft enough to not draw undue attention, but the simple words were dripping in scathing amusement. Oh, this kid was in so much trouble, and he didn’t even know it yet. Z’ia’s grin was cocky and self-assured as he crossed his arms and stared at Nejerc expectantly. The boy’s extra foot on Z’ia did little to phase him; after all, he was used to D’hys, and that man was a monster (in all ways!).

Sorry I took all year, and that it's pretty shitty >> but yeah.

Reaching the hut Nejerc had been reaching for the door when he heard someone behind him. “Looking for something, Candi?” The voice of the intruder asked him and he lowered his hand back to his side slowly before turning to face the speaker. He didn't say anything respond right away as he took in the man who'd caught him right before he'd reached the house. Perhaps this conversation would prove interesting, as long as Nejerc's lack of communication skills didn't get in the way... again as it seemed to do with everyone else in the weyr.

If this man had as much trouble understanding him as most of the weyr that Nejerc had encountered this season then Nejerc might very well end up in serious trouble after all. Letting his gaze wander over the man he debated his answer and how it might be interpreted in HIS eyes. “Yes, actually.” He finally said, but didn't care to raise or lower his voice. If someone had already caught up to him, why bother trying to hide that he was at D'ren's hut?

Might as well hang a sign over his head saying 'guilty' and see what S'kef did. With out proof no one could truly be certain Nejerc had done anything. Proof which Nejerc was certain didn't exist. Unless one counted being 'nosy' as proof. It was possible considering the amount of gossip Nejerc had heard around the weyr lately, but that was to be expected. It wasn't every day that the weyr leader was poisoned and nearly killed after all.

There was no point to hide the fact that he was going to search D'ren's hut for a clue. He was right outside the door. Who would believe a lie saying otherwise? The 'oh I got lost' might have worked if he was a stolen northener, but that was simply a lame excuse clearly. Not that Nejerc would lie about such things anyway. A lie was a self made trap, one that would close around you quickly if you weren't careful. If Nejerc came across someone like himself about to enter D'rens hut Nejerc knew what he would think, and it would all be speculation.

“Sweet,” Z’ia chirped, not at all put out by the candidate’s attitude. Candidates in general were pretty snotty bitches; none of them worth more than a greenrider’s shit on the bottom of your boot. The bluerider smiled charmingly, and Plague popped out of between much too close to Nejerc’s face to be at all polite, and hissed in it. Z’ia laughed softly as he held his arm up, watching the little green lizard’s tail wrapped around his upper arm while she perched delicately on the forearm, her smug gaze never leaving Nejerc.

“What cha lookin’ for?” Z’ia’s voice was both teasing and mocking as he danced playfully around Nejerc and knocked mockingly on the door. A moment later, he turned around dramatically and stared at Nejerc with massive green eyes (which were sparkling maliciously) and he whispered in a loud, mocking manner, “I don’t think anyone is home!” Plague chittered in laughter.

It had been a difficult evening. Astoreth's patchy green hide blushed with passion and her eyes were red more often than not, signaling that she would soon come into season. At least she had the decency to get properly proddy this time, giving  A'liran some sort of warning before the big event! He estimated that he had another 12 hours before the relentless bitchitude began, and then another twelve to twenty-four before she actually took wing.

That was all well and good. It gave Ali time to think about the flight and prepare himself mentally. He loved flights, at least as a general rule, but his last one had been particularly bad. The greenrider loved the freedom and passion flights provided, but he didn't fancy getting himself beaten up again.

Once he'd noticed the signs, A'liran decided to go visit D'hys. He wanted to encourage the bluerider to chase, and what better incentive than offering a free sample? Ast's condition was making Ali randy, anyhow!

They'd settled on a nice flight over to D'hys' hut, but something caught Astoreth's eye as they passed over.  She angled herself into a wide circle, curious as what she saw below. Aveleth's rider and a candidate outside of  Ronarth's home? A'liran! What does it mean? she asked anxiously, suspicion roused in part by her emotional state. Ali frowned. Let's go see...

Astoreth landed lightly. Still astride her neck, A'liran leaned forward, accusing eyes narrowing at Z'ia. "What the shards are YOU doing here?" A'liran hissed mistrustfully. Astoreth, however, was more interested in Nejerc, who was unknown to her. She fixed her eyes on him, staring unmoving.

Astoreth approaches, Aveleth spoke gently, his voice barely brushing against the back of his laughing human's mind. The words caused Z'ia to pause, however, one hand outreaching to open the door to D'ren's hut with an impish grin, enjoying the horror his good natured actions were causing. Some people took life way too seriously!

The announcement, however, had dark green eyes lifting to watch as Astoreth landed lightly on the ground, an amused smirk tilting one corner of the blueriders lips as he took note of the deeper hue the green was wearing, knowing gaze lifting to meet that of A'liran. “Waiting for you,” Z'ia purred sweetly, laughter in his voice. “Fancy a romp on the Weyrleaders bed?” The bluerider pressed his tongue to the inside of one cheek, nose scrunching up as he grinned impishly at A'liran and bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Reckon you've never done something like that Alleeey,” the name was strung out, before that same teasing gaze shifted to Nejerc, and Z'ia's nose again scrunched as he laughed softly. “What about you?” Eyebrows wiggled suggestively as Z'ia pressed against the door, twisting the handle so it opened. With a soft whoop of amusement, the little bluerider bounced inside, weight centered on the balls of his feet and more hair tumbled free around his face, curls dancing.

Obviously no one was home. Nejerc didn't know why Z'ia bothered with the exaggerated actions they both knew that D'ren was still in the healer's hall. Knocking was pointless. There was no real reason to do it, honestly Nejerc felt more uncomfortable around Z'ia for his energetic over excessive actions. He was the type of person who blew everything out of proportion, acting before thinking. Nejerc hated people who moved before thinking it through.

Feeling more than a little unsettled by Z'ia's actions and words he was still debating his answer when the sound of wing beats drew his attention. Wonderful, Nejerc told himself as he turned to find that there was a green approaching. When it landed he debated his chances of slipping into the hut unnoticed. The green rider distracted Z'ia which was fortunate but when he looked at the green to see it focused on him he reconsidered his chances of slipping inside unnoticed to nothing.

Realizing his chance to investigate unnoticed had quickly slipped from his hands when Z'ia returned his attention to Nejerc he didn't bother answering him as he opened the door and went inside with a loud cry. Closing his eyes a moment Nejerc gathered his thoughts and followed Z'ia in. It just wouldn't do to let the rider investigate the hut when that was the whole reason Nejerc was here. There were some things Nejerc had to check himself. Things he'd heard that he needed to be sure of.

Moving inside he focused on Z'ia to check where he was, and where he was going before turning his focus to what was around him. Nejerc knew there was a problem with having others in the hut with him, one of them being that Nejerc was here to look for clues, even the smallest of clues. Yet by being here Z'ia was ruining some of the attempt and could ruin clues before Nejerc even saw them. Another being that if Z'ia did see one Nejerc was unsure if Z'ia would say anything about it.

Nejerc had nothing to say to Z'ia or the green really. Z'ia because Nejerc figured his question about using the weyr leaders bed was rhetorical, and the green rider because he'd said nothing to Nejerc. This would have been so much nicer if he were alone. Yet Nejerc was certain there was nothing he could say to make them both leave, and even if he could he was fairly certain that if one of them was inclined they would go tell S'kef or some one else and he'd wind up in more trouble than he'd taken into account in the first place.

So it all boiled down to Nejerc just tolerating the company, no matter he didn't want it. What had he done to deserve this? It was a thought he put aside to stew over later looking around the first room carefully first.

Shards, Z'ia made A'liran's blood boil. He scowled from aback his dragon, clutching the straps with both hands and squeezing as Z'ia made his infuriating offer. Even the way he drew out the greenrider's name had him pissed off. He wanted to dismount and slap Z'ia in his smug face for his casual harassment and that stupid singsong voice, it was infuriating!

Of course, A'liran's anger easily flowed into Astoreth, who began to bristle and hiss with indignation. Don't fall for it, A'liran! she said, eyes flushing a deep shade of red in the low evening light. Her attention shifted away from Nejerc just in time for the young man to slide into the hut unnoticed by either dragon or rider. Their attention was focused solely on Z'ia.

"Fuck you, Z'ia! I don't have a-"

The little shit turned his back on me! Sure enough, Z'ia was already inside, following Nejerc. Wait, the kid was gone, too? Both of them inside no doubt. What a horrible idea.

Astoreth lowered her head, allowing Ali to slide down. He walked over, keeping a wary eye on the sky overhead as he did. He lingered by the door and poked his head inside. "What the shards are you guys doing, looting?" he asked. That sounded about right.

Keep an eye out, baby girl

Don't worry, A'liran. I will.

Congratulatiuons A'liran, you found a clue!

Clue 05:

As you watch the others move into the hut, you notice a strange depression in the dirt. You take a few steps closer and notice a deep footprint, evidently dried after being left in wet soil. The footprint is too small to belong to the Weyrleader but too big to be that of his child. It's definitely that of an adult, but a small-framed one with light feet. The footprint is located near the Weyrleader's bedroom window. Wasn't it damp the night of the attack?

Congratulations Nejerc, you found a clue!

Clue09:

The Weyrleader's hut has been pretty thoroughly picked over, but as you enter his bedroom and look across to th window, you notice something out of place. You find a curled dark hair, medium length and certainly not the Weyrleader's, snagged in the windowsill. Tsuen? A visiting rider?

Congratulations Z'ia, you found a clue!

Clue 15:

As you enter the bedroom, you notice something glinting lightly in the darkness. As you kneel down and peel under the bed, you notice a curious and highly stylized piece of jewelry. This isn't the sort of thing that D'ren would ever keep, and you're fairly certain Tsuen doesn't wear anything in this style. How unusual...

Z’ia danced on inside the hut, completely unphased by the bad attitudes of his two companions. A’liran was a known party pooper, and it looked like the Nejerc fellow was just as much of a sour apple. No fun, no fun at all! Grinning impishly, Z’ia bounced around the main living room, though he couldn’t see anything much worth his attention, and the bedroom – a room far more to his style – quickly called to him.

Aveleth appeared from between, as tidy and cleanly poised as ever, the young blue dragon landed a few huts away, claiming a roof with gentle back winging, while cautious eyes locked onto Astoreth. He liked the outspoken green, but she could be awfully mean, and Aveleth didn’t like being picked on!  Z’ia was in a brilliant mood, however, and Aveleth linked minds curiously, peering through his excited human’s eyes to see what all the fuss was about. Z’ia was jumping on D’ren’s bed.

You are a child, Aveleth’s voice was terribly amused, but as quiet as ever as Z’ia bounced joyfully on D’ren’s bed, smirking wickedly. Seriously? How many people had jumped on the Weyrleader’s bed?! Where was D’hys when he needed his daredevil friend?! Fucking on the Weyrleader’s bed would have been so much fun!

It’s the best way to be, Kiddo. Z’ia responded, high spirited as he caught glimpses of his companions whenever they passed the doorway.  Bouncing particularly high, Z’ia tumbled his body through a flip, and landed flat on his back, arms and legs splayed out like a starfish as he stared up at the roof. He seriously needed a bed this good; Think anyone would notice if I stole his bed, Kiddo? Aveleth’s amusement was thick.

Rhaedalyn was, as usual, being led on a wild chase by Muffin. The blue firelizard was an active little thing and while he would tolerate and even enjoy being cuddled and pampered, it was far more enjoyable to see what was going on everywhere. He was perfectly capable of doing the exploring on his own and even Rhaedalyn knew Muffin would be okay and would always return but she still worried and liked to have her firelizard a bit more under control. Still, she could say that the latest jaunt through the residential area of the weyr would be forgiven thanks to where Muffin led them.

As they moved down a row of huts, movement above and to the left of her caught Rhaedalyn’s eye and she came to an abrupt stop. Aveleth appeared above a hut and landed gracefully atop it. He was such a wonderful dragon! Not that she had ever spoken to the creature but she heard he was precious and sweet. Rhaedalyn was willing to bet he got along wonderfully with Niskziath. They were former classmates after all! She’d have to remember to quiz Niskziath about it sometime soon though she couldn’t risk asking V’zire. He’d tease her to no end if he knew how deeply her crush ran! Before her thoughts ran too wild on her, the young tailor finally noticed that Aveleth was alone and Z’ia wasn’t in sight. That meant he was close by, right?

She scanned the area but only saw A’liran. He was with Z’ia a lot, right? Quietly, and feeling like a complete stalker, Rhaedalyn moved a bit closer to the hut that the greenrider was peeking into. He didn’t seem to be worth too much attention, especially since it was like Z’ia himself wanted Rhaedalyn to find him. Movement in a window caught her eye and with Muffin growing impatient of waiting for her and settling on her shoulder, Rhaedalyn crept a bit closer to peer inside. A giggle broke free before she could cover her mouth at what she saw. Z’ia was jumping on the bed and having a blast doing it! He was so innocent and enjoyed life so much! What an amazing man he was.

She sighed, completely infatuated as always but gasped a second later when Z’ia flipped in the air and flopped on the bed. He laid there sprawled out and looked ever so inviting. A blush bloomed on her cheeks and soon Rhaedalyn felt her entire face going hot. Her thoughts had drifted down forbidden roads again with how nice it would be to curl up beside Z’ia in that large bed. He would be snugly and attentive, no doubt! His fingers would brush through her hair and dance lightly over her skin as they shared stories and he would always make her laugh and feel special at the same time. It was so tempting to crawl through the window and find that all out right then and there but that would definitely leave her labelled as a creepy stalker and a trespasser.

Embarrassed by the blush she couldn’t seem to shake and how she was practically clinging in desperation to the window sill, Rhaedalyn finally spun on her dainty heels and resumed her jogging after Muffin who took off soaring from his perch. At least a little innocent physical exertion could be used to explain away the flush!

Like Rhaedalyn, D’hys was tipped off to Z’ia’s location by Aveleth hanging out on a hut. Unlike the girl, the bluerider was aback his dragon flying over head. It wasn’t standard routine to seek out and interrupt whatever Z’ia was up to since his friend got into mischief on his own as regularly as D’hys did but exactly where Aveleth was sitting made D’hys nervous. That was far too close to D’ren’s hut and knowing how strong the daredevil urge was in Z’ia, it was pretty obvious the brat was snooping in D’ren’s hut and not visiting someone else nearby. As far as D’hys knew, Z’ia wasn’t really close friends with any of the neighbours and it seemed unlikely he’d be anywhere but at the ailing former Weyrleader’s hut.

Land on a nearby roof. See what Aveleth’s up to and I’ll see what mischief Z’ia’s into. Zeianth did exactly that and gracefully landed on the roof of a hut next door to the one the fellow blue was perched on. D’hys slipped free of his dragon’s back and carefully climbed down from the roof. There wasn’t a point in making Zeianth drop him off on the ground and then settle himself up on a roof out of the way when the drop from roof to ground wasn’t that big.

As he approached D’ren’s home, D’hys frowned at spotting Astoreth without and A’liran peeking in. Was there a party they forgot to invite him to? He wasn’t sure he would have attended even if he had received the invitation but D’hys figured he’d roll with the current situation presented to him and stepped up behind A’liran and boldly slipped his arms around the greenrider’s waist. “I’m going to start believing you purposely seek out trouble, babe,” he whispered against an ear, nipped the lobe, and let go of A’liran as quickly as he appeared. He’d have fun further picking on the man later but he knew Z’ia was inside somewhere and he probably needed to be dragged away before trouble really did land on them.

Slipping by A’liran, D’hys noticed some kid he didn’t know which meant he was likely a Candidate brought in from the North and therefore not worth knowing and continued moving through the hut without a word said. A laugh, however, was given when he saw Z’ia sprawled on D’ren’s bed and he moved in closer. “You’re looking pretty comfortable there, Squirt.” Z’ia in a bed was often a good distraction from a bad mood or boredom and already it was proving to be the same thing. “You’re like a Siren sometimes that distracts me from other intentions.” It really shouldn’t have been that surprising given how similar their thought process could be but D’hys bent down and offered a wicked grin before giving away one of his rare kisses to entice his friend into playing a bit. An audience didn’t bother him and the idea of fucking in D’ren’s bed seemed like a fun way to pass the time, relieve some stress, and earn some bragging rights. They had enough people and dragons on look out to get them dressed and out of the room if need be as well.

Congratulations D'hys, you found a clue!

Clue 07:

Most of D'ren's paperwork was relocated to the Weyrfolk Hall after D’ren’s hut was searched, but it seems a few pieces were missed! On the floor, you notice a piece of paper sticking out from under the Weyrlerader's dresser, probably knocked off of his desk during the relocation process.

Looking through it, you realize it’s a set of reports dealing with unruly northerners. Four are mentioned in specific: Talian, who attempted to kill himself rather than live at Katila; Erisi, who engaged in a violent verbal dispute with the Weyrleader at 231 turnover and has been vocal in his hatred of dragonriders since; Volfetti, known for her  famous escape attempt; and Sanderon, whose repeated escape attempts and violent outbursts caused him to be imprisoned on the isle again.

There are notes dealing with each one. They seem to be arranged in order of concern, starting with the least.

Talian's temperament improved dramatically in the months following his suicide attempt and he came to befriend a handful of dragonriders, as well as contributing greatly to the Weyr through his medical skills.

Volfetti also calmed down, in her case after having a child. Her protests ended in favor of raising the child, but she refused to stand for Impression.

Erisi Impressed a green dragon during Nirinath's most recent hatching. His temperament and attitude never Improved and he continued to spout hatred for the Weyr and it's leaders, but he appears to be more talk than action.

Sanderon remained under close watch after his release. After a couple sevendays, wardening duties were transferred from bluerider I'shan to a brownrider responsible for watching the young man's every move and watching for relapse. There has been only one further incident involving Greenrider A'liran, but since it was indeterminable which one initiated the conflict, both received moderate punishment and were sent on their way.

All of these candidates remained on file. The first two, however, were due to be removed, while the latter two remained under the Weyrleader's eye.

If Nejerc had thought that Z'ia was an unwanted companion, A'liran a crowd, spotting a woman outside the window.. One he only caught a glimpse of but thought he recognized as a candidate though he wasn't sure as he continued his scan of the area having moved into the bedroom, and casting Z'ia a glance. He was slightly disturbed that Z'ia was taking liberties with D'rens bed but said nothing aloud on the subject. If the bed had been his he would have been disgusted and disgruntled he liked his bed.. He liked it not being touched by other people without permission.

Moving back the way he'd come retracing his steps he stopped as he saw another man joining them. The man flirted with A'liran before coming into the room and Nejerc was beginning to regret his choice of time to come search D'rens home. It clearly was not a good time there were to many people around already. He looked around again after casting A'liran a second glance.

Nejerc hadn't answered A'lirans question about looting because he thought it rather ridiculous. Why would Nejerc need to loot the weyrleaders hut? While some might see it as a good idea Nejerc considered it rude considering the circumstances.

Shards, the group of people in D'rens hut wasn't lessening it was growing, and with a green dragon outside it Nejerc knew more and more people were bound to take notice. This was going to get out of hand fast. Perhaps he should come back later? Yet he'd already talked himself in a circle over that thought, coming back later would be moot. Anything that he found would no longer be relevant after so many people traipsed through the hut.

He should leave, and now before more people showed up and saw him here. Yet despite the thought he couldn't help but continue looking around a little longer.

Aveleth greeted Zeianth with a low warble, eyes swirling happily as the other dragon landed not far away, his own human’s high mood flooding through the young blue to keep him in high spirits. It didn’t hurt that Astoreth hadn’t taken the chance to be meant to him yet, and with Zeianth keeping him company he doubted the feisty green would get snarky; or at least, if she did, Zeianth would protect him! Aveleth chirped again, genuinely happy with the day so far; it could only get better, right?

A wicked grin was lifted and aimed at D’hys as the bluerider called attention upon himself, Z’ia offering a lazy salute in response. A cheerful laugh was given at being called a siren, though such an alignment caused a trickle of discomfort to slither down his spine. A flash of yellow rippled through Aveleth’s eyes before resuming a clear blue, highlighted with lusty purples as Z’ia responded to the kiss he was given. Nimble fingers made quick work of D’hys’ belt before the other man so much as managed to pull away, Z’ia’s expression devious in its intent.

As eager as ever for a rush of adrenaline, and to make trouble, Z’ia’s nimble fingers made short work of D’hys’ clothing, even as he could feel the other bluerider tearing his own off him. A well-rehearsed dance that ended up with two naked blueriders within a heartbeat; as it should be!  “Bet these walls haven’t seen so much skin since they were built.” Z’ia gave a devious smirk; D’ren was such a prude!

Any dragons?

Astoreth, Aveleth, Zeianth.

Interesting group. Anyone else with them?

He's called Nejerc

Nejerc? Didn't sound familiar. One of the other associated names stood out much more, but S'kef was still less than pleased to hear the unfamiliar one. The other three were trouble waiting to happen, but S'kef didn't want anyone else getting up to their elbows in this mess. It was just one more brat to keep an eye on.

Fuck them up

Tyrrisath appeared, eyes burning red. The big dragon landed in front of D'ren's hut, a deep roar tearing from his throat. He projected a wave of anger at the smaller dragons, earning a shriek of terror from Astoreth as the little green scrambled to get out of his way. Tyrrisath snarled at her and snapped his teeth, watching as she dove for the hut and hastily collected A'liran.    Stop the dragon ordered, paralyzing the little green where she stood. A'liran protectively wrapped his arms around her head, back pressed to the hut as they stared up at the brown.

S'kef dismounted. He and Tyrrisath paid no attention to the blues, both assuming that they'd been scattered. "Greenrider! What are you doing here?" S'kef snapped at A'liran. The greenrider spit some sort of angry response at S'kef, but the brownrider wasn't listening. The question was largely rhetorical, it would seem.

Hold them here he ordered Tyrrisath, who silently consented. Then, S'kef threw the door open and stomped inside. "Who's there?" he called, entering the living quarters to see movement. S'kef pulled a glow fro his pocket and held it up.

So this was Nejerc. S'kef did know him after all, but only from a distance. He was a harper of sorts. Unimpressed, the brownrider stepped closer. "You do realize this hut is the property of bronzerider D'ren, right? You are breaking and entering." Anger mixed with cool arrogance on the brownrider's shadowed face as he glared at the younger man. His voice was calm and smooth, almost non-threatening, were it not for the outraged look lurking behind his eyes.

A deep roar had Nejerc whirling toward the door even before he heard the voice outside. S'kef. Glancing around he realized he was to late when the door was flung open and S'kef stepped in. He closed his eyes a moment as the glow hit his face and then opened them again as he heard S'kef speaking.

Shards. This could not possibly get any worse. Since he didn't wait for Nejerc to identify himself before asking him a rather stupid question if Nejerc did say so himself. It was quiet possibly rhetorical but Nejerc was fairly sure from the look on S'kef's face he was in big trouble, if he didn't already know that the moment he realized it was S'kef who had caught them.. Them?

Nejerc started to turn toward the bedroom where he'd seen the other two riders, but stopped before completely facing it and returned his attention to S'kef. Far be it from him to point the finger at someone else for being in D'ren's hut. He had after all come here for a purpose, that would have probably gotten him in trouble eventually if his path ever crossed S'kef. It had happened, and sooner than Nejerc had wished. Granted he would have preferred it never happen.

“Yes.”

It was the answer to the question if he knew that the hut was D'ren's, but who wouldn't? There was no point feigning ignorance, it would have been unacceptable anyway. Skulking around in any hut really was a bad idea anyway, unless invited in to do so. Someone had though, Nejerc knew, whoever had poisoned D'ren had come into the hut uninvited at least he was fairly certain of that.

The only question Nejerc found himself terribly concerned with at the moment was what S'kef was planning to do. He was no fool and was fairly certain there would be punishment or something. You didn't simply enter someone's hut and sniff around after all, but worse was that this hut was involved in a crime, one S'kef had made clear that he would investigate. His eyes narrowed slightly on S'kef, as weyr leader he could go wherever he wished generally, but if Nejerc had a say he would keep S'kef away from his own quarters.

Aveleth shrieked, frightening the high heavens out of Z’ia whose small body jerked unintentionally like when he had one of his nightmares, and he struggled into a sitting position, shoving the far less worried and much larger body off him, hand slipping on the sweat slicked abs so he almost face planted against D’hys’ hips. The roar Tyrrisath had released had been lost in the high of a good tumble, but the terror Aveleth suddenly radiated was impossible to ignore and Z’ia kicked D’hys in the shin as he struggled to get up. Scrabbling backwards, Z’ia collapsed on the corner of the bed, sitting still as his face betrayed the change of focus.

K-kiddo, what! What’s wrong? He could feel Aveleth trembling as the little dragon withdrew in on himself, curling into a small ball on the roof he’d claimed while terrified white eye stared up at Tyrrisath. Z’ia’s expression hardened into a scowl, despite the gentle reassurances he was giving his dragon, attempting to get the blue to relax. He was assisted by another, and Z’ia relaxed visibly as Aveleth finally stopped trembling, though he was now watching Astoreth with horror. The poor pretty green! She hadn’t done anything wrong! But, like when he desired to step up for Rilaleeyth, Aveleth was trapped by his own terror of the situation. He was not a dragon made for protecting others; he couldn’t even protect his own bonded! Hush, Kiddo. I’m here to protect you, so don’t you fret. Z’ia blinked, meeting D’hys’ eyes and slipping off the bed to clothe. He knew the other rider would be well aware of S’kef’s presence outside the room.

Damp curls were swept out of his face as Z’ia tugged on his pants. Then, throwing D’hys his most devil-may-care smirk, Z’ia bounced out of the room before he could be grabbed, a shocked gasp escaping his mouth as he stared up at S’kef with wide green eyes. A sweet smile then took control of his lips, and Z’ia crossed his arms over his bare chest, shirt folded between his arms. “Good morning, Sir!” Cheerful and bubbly, Z’ia’s voice was a brook of happiness compared to the stiff tones being used by the other men. “Wait! This is D’ren’s hut?!” Huge eyes stared at S’kef, the bluerider looking utterly scandalised. “Crap, Sir, we thought it was an empty! I mean, I know D’ren lived in this area but-!” Z’ia’s arms unfolded so he could wring his hands uncomfortably, tugging his shirt on even as he mumbled once more; “We’re really sorry, Sir!”

Too many ‘sir’s, Aveleth whispered gently against the edge of Z’ia’s mind. The tiny bluerider gave no indication that any such communication had been given, however, as he swayed anxiously on the spot, wide eyes glued to S’kef. It was a pity there had been no green flights that morning. It would have been the perfect way to excuse a couple hot blueriders taking over a hut; then again, everyone knew he was prone to random flings in empty huts, right? Z'ia shifted uncomfortably.

D’hys cursed softly as a foot connected with his shin with Z’ia scrambling to get up. He was fully aware of the distress of dragons around him though Zeianth himself was mostly unaffected. In the blue’s opinion, Tyrrisath roared too loudly as if overcompensating for the fact his hide didn’t sparkle in the sun. It was intimidating, Zeianth would give him that, and perhaps if it had been directed at him as perfectly as it was Astoreth, then there may have been more fear. As it was, Zeianth was like D’hys, mostly unaffected by the happenings around them save for how their friends reacted. A croon was given to Aveleth while D’hys stared oddly at Z’ia.

When it was clear Z’ia was fine and Aveleth’s likely fear hadn’t paralyzed either of them, D’hys followed suit in tossing his pants on. He, however, had no intentions of meeting S’kef under the current roof. He didn’t need to be seen in D’ren’s hut which could be seen as a sign of removing evidence just as easily as it could be a sign of looking for evidence against another person. There would be punishments, of that he did not doubt, and he simply couldn’t risk such a thing if he wanted to keep his game going with V’zire.

He made a grab for Z’ia but his bouncy friend proved elusive and dodged the grasp. D’hys gaped at Z’ia’s back for a moment before writing him off as insane and on his own. There was a perfectly good window they could slide out of even though their dragons were both hanging out on nearby roofs to place them near or even at D’ren’s hut. Grabbing his shirt and shoes, D’hys went for that window and paused only long enough to grab a piece of paper on the floor. It likely wouldn’t be that exciting but given he was certain that particular group of men were there looking for clues or just fun things to start gossip over, the bluerider took it with him to read over once he was clear of the hut. If it was anything worth sharing, Z’ia would see it later on – assuming the daredevil hadn’t met his match by goading S’kef like he currently was doing.

With a glance over his shoulder and a shake of his head, D’hys slipped out the window and made for safer grounds.

"D'hys!" I'shan's voice snapped, hitting a shrill note before fading away in the blackness. A thin bluerider crouched , worrying and yet curious brown eyes fixed on the other man as he pulled himself through the window. "D'hys, is that you?"

It was been an exhausting morning. Squee wanted to play, and thus far that meant chasing every other fire lizard in the weyr. Talian's blue was too much of a fraidy cat to be fun, and one of Valerian's was awfully mean! Then there was Muffin, who was just such good company that Squee couldn't stand to hold still! No, he'd been flying around for most of the evening, causing a fuss and being adorably annoying. I'shan was chasing him, more to see peoples' faces than to actually mitigate the damage.

His chase led him to  D'ren's hut, where the sight of incredible hotness inside distracted him for a moment. Ilveriath was safely asleep, unaware of the horrible situation at the hut, and I'shan had been startled out of his skin by Tyrrisath's bellow. He'd hidden on the other side of the hut, pressing himself against the wall to make himself as small as possible. How thankful he was when D'hys emerged, and not S'kef!

"We should bail!" I'shan yelped, eyes widening. He peeked around the corner, where he saw A'liran and Astoreth firmly arrested by the snarling brown. Perfect!

Sucks to be you, A'liran!

I'shan scrambled off at a sprint. He didn't bother to explain to D'hys what exactly he was doing outside the window.

S'kef's hard gaze remained fixed on Nejerc, studying the younger man for signs of weakness or falsehood. The harper was impressively stoic. S'kef didn't like that. He would have preferred fear, though at the very least he appreciated the honesty. A denial would have been tedious. His expression hardened further, brown eyes searching for purpose behind the harper's face.

"Disgraceful," S'kef said after a moment of examination, his voice bubbling with hints of anger. He reached for his side, where he carried a riding whip instead of the traditional belt knife. S'kef hadn't carried a knife with him since his exile ended, and before that he'd been uncomfortable for far longer. His reasons were his own; none in the Weyr aside from J'ver knew why S'kef chose to go about unarmed, but it wasn' anyone else's sharding business.

It didn't matter, though. S'kef didn't need a knife, but the whip would do just fine. He lifted it, pressing the tip against Nejerc's cheek in a threatening manner. "If you are concerned for D'ren," S'kef said in a soft voice, deceptively kind aside from the crooked smile that accompanied it, "then you should have come to me first."

The brownrider leaned closer, continuing to stare dead ahead as he whispered delicately in Nejerc's ear. "This is my Weyr. Nothing is to happen without my consent."

S'kef remained where he stood for a couple lengthy moments, seemingly lost in thought or perhaps lingering for the sake of intimidation. That was not the case. Rather, his attention shifted to the bedroom door, which he watched coldly for several seconds before the occupant emerged.

Z'ia? Seriously?

S'kef pulled away from Nejerc and took a bold step towards the little bluerider, who was bouncing along as always and spilling some obvious wherry shit about not knowing whose hut he was in. S'kef frowned and snapped his whip towards the little bastard's ribs, catching them firmly along the left side with enough force to leave a welt, but little else.

"Shut up! I don't want to hear your excuses, bluerider!" S'kef snapped. "Both of you, outside!"

S'kef impatiently herded the men towards the door. A'liran remained outside, back pressed anxiously against the hut, but Astoreth was no longer with him. Tyrrisath had ordered them apart and now had the green curled helplessly against the ground, Tyrrisath looming over her like a stoic prison warden. Astoreth cried pitifully, and A'liran called for her desperately in his mind. His poor baby was so frightened!

"Release her, you asshole! Fuck you!"

The greenrider's rage hardly seemed worth the effort. S'kef turned, striking the greenrider a single time just as he'd done to Z'ia, but with much more force. Ali hissed and Astoreth cried out, but S'kef ignored them both. He looked back in the hut, making sure the others were following. "Come on. Hands on the wall, all of you." The brownrider maintained fluid confidence of both voice and posture, but a small was playing on the corner of his mouth.

Powerplayed Z'ia with permission. Rowen, if you want Nejerc to refuse, go right ahead

Z’ia issued a sound somewhere between a squeal and a yelp, bounding back away from the slap with the whip too late to completely avoid the blow. He hadn’t seen it coming, certainly hadn’t expected it, and was wondering how he’d managed to miss it when S’kef started waving it around again. Z’ia skipped anxiously for the doorway, green eyes still comically wide as he stole skittish glances back over his shoulder at the brownrider.

“A’liran!” Z’ia gasped the name in surprise, blinking and more taken aback by the way Tyrrisath had the pair cowering than because he hadn’t known they were there. That was just a useful back up to his story! His wide eyes snapped across all the occupants of the area now, before dancing over to see where Aveleth was. His dragon was crouched on a roof, his position completely defensive while his eyes spun in colours of distress and anxiety. Z’ia’s stomach rolled uneasily as his dragon’s emotions leaked in on the edge of his mind. An apologetic thought to the young dragon, and Z’ia blocked the easily distressed creature from his mind, attempting to send him to D’hys’ but unsurprised when he didn’t move.

A high pitched screech of rage was issued instead, and Z’ia made a grab for the previously empty space before him and snatched his little spitting firelizard out of the air, jerking her to his chest and glaring challengingly at S’kef. Z’ia could let anything go, but harming his babies was far outside of what was allowed. No one harmed his Aveleth, or his little Plague. The firelizard wasn’t going anywhere, however, as she hissed and spat at S’kef while Z’ia struggled to keep a hold of her. He was pretty sure if he let her go she’d lay into the man’s face. Granted, that would be hilarious but it would also be likely to end up with an extinct Plague and Z’ia was not on for that. She was doing a number on his arms though, as the tiny bluerider struggled to hold her.

Release her, you asshole! Fuck you! – Z’ia startled, unintentionally releasing his firelizard as S’kef turned on A’liran with his whip. Aveleth gave a startling bark, and Z’ia yelped, green eyes wide with shock, while Plague vanished between. Trembling, Z’ia’s breathing was coming in hitched gasps as he spun around and leaned against the wall, using it more to hold himself up than he was to obey the harsh commands of the Acting Weyrleader. Aveleth! The fuck, Kiddo?!

It was a delayed moment as Nejerc's mind worked in rapid directions. First, he had known if he was caught especially by S'kef there was no doubt that a sever punishment would quickly follow. Honestly he'd hoped he'd be able to get in unnoticed, but that hadn't worked the moment Z'ia had caught up with him before he'd even entered D'ren's hut.

Stepping outside taking in A'liran and his green he frowned. Nejerc was no expert but the green looked almost ready to take flight. Scaring the shells out of her like this couldn't be good for her, having her rider punished likely wouldn't be doing her any favors either.

Nejerc could try and offer to take the blame, as he doubted telling S'kef that A'liran had nothing to do with it would result in no change in punishments. In fact Nejerc was having trouble thinking of a way out of the punishment for A'liran, even if Nejerc took his share. He couldn't exactly smart off to S'kef it wouldn't help A'liran, or himself. So where did that leave him?

Well, the only thing he could think of was to do something worse than he already had to piss S'kef off even more at him, and then do something really stupid like run. Nejerc wasn't in the habit of actually doing seriously stupid idea's except this one where he'd snooped in D'ren's hut but that was on a whole new level from hitting S'kef and then trying to escape. Especially with S'kef's dragon right there.

Yeah he'd never make it, but perhaps his distraction would help S'kef forget how angry he was at A'liran, and Z'ia. Or it might serve to just piss him off more. Eh. They would definitely not thank him for extra punishment.. Perhaps the best thing he could do after all was to appear obedient. However if S'kef thought this was over.. He was wrong.

For all his thinking, there was no escape for any of them this time. Turning he put his hands on the wall and braced against S'kef's punishment. It was going to happen, preferably sooner rather than later.

S'kef strode along after Z'ia, trying not to smirk at the skittish little glances the bluerider was giving him. He could hear Tyrrisath's rumbling laughter in the back of his mind, devilishly amused at the fear they'd inspired in the little group of troublemakers. Just like old times S'kef purred, patting the whip in the palm of his hand as he waited for both men to make their way outside.

Yes Tyrrisath whispered. Only so much more.

As S'kef moved to head outside, he found himself suddenly challenged by Z'ia's angry little fire lizard. S'kef blinked at her, unimpressed and maybe just a little amused. "Relax," S'kef said in response to Z'ia's venomous glare. S'kef had no intention to harm the little firelizard, though he thought with some irritation that it needed to learn some sharding manners! But what else could be expected of a green?

The brownrider watched in satisfaction as Z'ia and Nejerc both complied with his orders. A'liran, however, was still hissing protests and agonizing over his whore dragon. S'kef reached out, snatching the greenrider's shirt collar and unashamedly pushing him into the side of the building. Ali swore, but caught between the wall and the angry brownrider, there was little else he could do. He placed his trembling hands on the wall and closed his eyes, mind ringing with curses.

S'kef paused, considering the situation for a few long seconds before seizing A'liran again and dragging him to another section of the wall, effectively switching his place with Nejerc. "Stand up straight, greenrider," S'kef ordered before lifting his whip.

Astoreth screeched. A'liran! A'liran! she cried out pitifully, her voice ringing free for all to hear. She silently pleaded with him to obey the brownrider's orders, her own terror at their situation permeating him and making him tremble. The greenrider groaned in pain as he felt the whip against his back, well aware of the pleasure that the bastard brownrider must have been getting out of it. Ali didn't even necessarily think it was sexual; S'kef was just a power hungry bastard who enjoyed forcing others to fold before him, and tonight there was nothing ALi could do to defend himself.

S'kef smiled. The green dragon's whining and A'liran's groans were unmoving to him. The little sluts would never learn their lesson without a firm hand to teach them. He struck the greenrider along his shoulders and ribs, repeating the action  until Ali's littler gasps turned into miserable groans and finally to screams. The whip, intended for runners, was blunt and thin. It wouldn't leave any permanent marks, especially through clothes, but hopefully the greenrider would learn his sharding lesson.

Once he was finished, he snatched the trembling greenrider's shirt collar again and pitched him towards Astoreth. "Now get out of here. Go home and keep to your own business," S'kef growled at him. A'liran scrambled away, running to his Astoreth and throwing himself onto her neck. Finally free from Tyrrisath, the green let out a sad creel before vanishing. They were gone.

S'kef smirked, then looked to the other two. Nejerc was, as far as S'kef knew, a first-timer. He silently hoped that listening to A'liran's punishment had put a good sense of fear in the little bastard. S'kef approached, placing one hand on  Nerjerc's back to make sure he stood firm against the building, before similarly laying into him. He didn't restrain himself when it came to force, pelting the harper with every ounce of ferocity he'd given to A'liran and even Z'ia back in the hut, but he didn't continue for quite so long. Even so, the brownrider's arm was tired by the time he was finished. His 'merciful' moods were not particularly merciful.

"Get out of here," he ordered, motioning for Nejerc to gather himself and leave. Dark eyes swept over the harper, searching for any hints to the man's state of mind after his punishment. Was he angry? Cowed? Was he likely to be trouble again?

S'kef allowed the briefest moment to glance at Z'ia as well. Hah...

The green's screams for her rider were their own form of punishment slapping against Nejerc's mind. Nejerc was stiff from bracing by the time S'kef reached him. He managed to stay standing longer than perhaps he would have been able to normally thanks to his knee's and elbows that locked in place by that time. Each hit seemed like a cut to his skin, even though he knew it was not. The pain a burn that was increased before it could fully subside, by another hit.

Shards his back ached and burned with every movement, yet he said nothing as he pushed to his own feet properly once more. He turned to see S'kef eying him and found himself straightening. Brushing his arm with one hand as if brushing off dust he might have smiled if he wasn't in as much pain as he was instead he walked past S'kef as casually as he could without wincing.

Z’ia shot a hot glare at A’liran when Astoreth started screeching, the tiny bluerider less than impressed by the display, despite his firelizards obnoxious attempt to rescue him moments before. The obvious difference there was that A’liran had no control over his slut of a dragon; Z’ia however, considered his feisty little firelizard’s actions to be a mark of her dedication and love for him. But then, she was his, she was allowed to be that way. A’liran was a whore who needed to learn his damned place!

A place S’kef was quickly determined to grind the greenrider back into! Dark green eyes flickered into life as Z’ia peered past Nejerc’s body to watch with fascinated curiosity that the young bluerider almost completely managed to keep hidden from the candidate beside him, his face betraying nothing more than his wide eyed and completely false horror at the show being put on. His heart was fluttering, blood rushing with the thrill of watching A’liran crumple and the only solid thought that Z’ia caught was how much he would have loved to be the one wielding that whip.

Fascinated eyes watched with less of a shield as Nejerc’s back was attacked, knowing without thinking about it that the other would be far too occupied with the systematic slaps of the stout whip to notice any changes in Z’ia’s stance or attention. On the edges of his mind, Z’ia could feel Aveleth’s anxiety mounting, but didn’t pay the young best a whole lot of attention; Aveleth always got fidgety when Z’ia was enjoying himself at the expense of another.

The tiny bluerider edited his expression as S’kef withdrew from his overbearing stance, allowing Nejerc to collect whatever dignity he had left and stalk off, Z’ia watching him leave with thinly veiled interest before turning to look back at S’kef. The bluerider blinked once, and then flashed S’kef a brilliant smile, green eyes sparkling. “That was informative,” he quipped cheerfully as Aveleth settled down on the ground a few polite feet away, creeping forward to nudge his nose under Z’ia’s elbow until the young man pet him. Plague chittered soft reassurance to the blue dragon, who was eyeing Tyrrisath warily, body coiled to flash between at the brown’s smallest twitch; it was a good thing the beast was so stoic.