Ridiculous [INVITE]

If there was ever a hot mess, it was Katila Weyr.

It was so fucking Katila Weyr.

D'ren was incapacitated, and years of sucking dick had enabled S'kef to rise to the position of temporary Weyrleader (in the if-anyone-threatened-to-take-his-position-they-would-be-knifed sort of way). Seriously, the Weyrling believed that someone needed to pay him some a purse full of marks to solve this who done it mystery, because he had this shit solved. People were more dimglowed than he thought if they couldn't piece this stupid puzzle together. His first instinct was to assume it was Lymsleia, because only one person in this entire Weyr was so sharding stupid enough to make an attempt on D'ren's life. The girl was a midwife-claimed-healer, so she obviously dealt with Tansy. Just as obviously she had previous trouble with the Weyrleader about being turned into a baby maker (which she was yet to do).

Seriously, S'kef was probably sitting on his ass somewhere giggling girlishly to himself instead of dealing with the fucking problem. Which was him. Erisi hated the brownrider, but pushing his distaste for the man aside it was clear that S'kef had dipped his hands into the mess of trying-to-kill-D'ren-and-epically-failing. Who was the only person to benefit from D'ren taking a dive? S'kef. If he was in charge of this internal investigation, the first person he'd be looking at was the only fucking man in the entire fucking Weyr to fucking WIN off of someone NEARLY DYING.

On that point, actually, why was S'kef acting the Weyrleader. Weren't they supposed to wait for Nirinath to rise again and some dragon to stick their giant BRONZE dick into her? Tsuen should be running things... eh, okay maybe not. That woman was a hot mess too. So, it should be some old respectable bronzerider who hadn't lost the position of WEYRSECOND under the guise of falling ill. Erisi didn't buy it. Personally, if he wanted to be knifed in the back he would have walked up to S'kef and shoved a boot up the man's ass. Then he would have pronounced him the murder and also declared that he was completely inept to run a Weyr.

He should be running the Weyr, he as in Erisi. Erisi would rule the wherry dung out of Katila. Valerian would be made to suck him off daily, and that would be a victory in and of itself.

Now that was a glorious thought! The Weyrling smiled to himself as he approached an older craftsman. He had already paid the man beforehand, so it was a simple matter of picking up his clothes and leaving. The tailor had to bring in a few of his outfits, because well, Erisi was thinner than most people. By the time he got to the man he was no longer smiling, instead looking impatient. There was no reason for him to be friendly to some old fart. The only people he managed to look friendly to were the ones he wanted to sleep with, and that was self-explanatory.

"You haven't finished them?" Erisi drawled as he leaned forwards toward the man. When he got a reply that was satisfactory and the man disappeared to grab his clothes (most were scarfs, okay, he had some made up too - when he spent he spent) he turned away with a heavy sigh.

He just needed to run things. He'd do so much better. S'kef would call him a savior, many would kiss his feet even if they were covered in shit.

'Why are you not Bronze?'

Why are you not Valerian?

Touche, Charath.

People were sharding incompetent.

S'kef rounded the corner, leaving one of the chambers and the nervous tailor it contained. "But sir! Give me another chance!" the man called as S'kef departed.

"You had your chance," the brownrider replied, scolwing. Was it really so hard to get a sharding jacket made? Shards, he would just have J'ver do it! S'kef waved dismissively as the tailor tried to follow him. "Don't think that your

The young man obviously feared that he was in trouble, but S'kef had no such designs. It was amusing to see the kid sweat, but for now, a warning would suffice. If the kid was just incompetent, he'd know better than to screw up next time. If he was actually stupid enough to willfully do what he'd done, well...it was only one chance.

The brownrider slung the half-tattered coat over his shoulder and walked along. He was displeased, but it could be worse. Assuming Weyrleadership, however temporary, had already proven a pain in the ass. People were too cowardly to outwardly challenge him, but he faced little inconvenciences at every turn; the rabble's sublte little ways of jabbing back at him, it would seem.

Ripping the wrong seams out of his jacket? Just another day at work.

It was frustrating, but S'kef was neither surprised nor discouraged. He didn't mind a good fight, he just wished people had enough backbone to say what they meant! He shook his head as he rounded another corner, entering the next corridor, where he suddenly collided with a smaller man.

He had to check his anger. He was supposed to be on his best behavior for the public eye! Chewing people out wouldn't do, now would it? He sneered and looked down. Who the shards was this? Some weyrling?

"....Good day," S'kef said pleasantly. It was an act, and if the kid was smart he'd see right through it. Now that would be amusing.

He was about to take his clothing and walk off.

'About to' being the key words in that sentence. He didn't make it very far when someone was determined to trample over him. Erisi cursed under his breath as another man walked right into him, and then he got a look at the aforementioned man, and cursed a little more audibly. What was this, a magical fucking summons? All he had to do was whisper the man's name in his mind he would appear in a puff of rude smoke?  Was he going to have to caution every thought in fear that it would drive the pseudo Weyrleader to his side? Oh, hello S'kef! Nice to see you, funny about the previous Weyrleader falling under a sudden case of near death! But hey, looks like everything worked out for you, fancy that!

The look he gave S'kef must not have been very impressive, because S'kef's well wishes hardly sounded sincere. 'Yeah, made so much better by the Weyrleader tripping over his feet onto me.'

"Yeah, made so much better by the Weyrleader tripping over his feet onto me." Shells, what was the point of an inner monologue if he wasn't even going to keep it in his head? When he thought about it, he could hardly blame S'kef. No matter how slimey the bastard was, Erisi knew he was sharding irresistible. It should be no surprise that an errant individual crashed into him wantonly. Sorry, S'kef, but his ass cheeks remained tightly clenched against murdering assholes.

Thank Faranth he didn't say that one aloud.

Erisi peered over S'kef's shoulder, and his expression of clear irritation turned towards one of... vague horror? The emotion closely resembled horror anyways as Erisi's eyes fastened on S'kef's jacket. Fuck balls, that was hideous. He'd make such a better Weyrleader based on fashion sense alone. "Did a feral feline mangle your jacket, or do you actually unwittingly wear that?" Figures that a murderer would also have no sense of fashion. Erisi wanted to facepalm.

He also figured he shouldn't be insulting the Weyrleader.

He was less insulting S'kef and more insulting the jacket.

Okay, no, he was just insulting S'kef for having the jacket.

S'kef stared flatly at the young greenrider, taking the snappy words for exactly what they were: thinking out loud. It was hardly becoming, but the brownrider felt himself caught between indignation and dry amusement at the weyrling. Go figure, a little baby green with a sharp tongue. Give him time, though! One day he would be properly put in his place.

Of course, S'kef didn't plan to be the one to do it, but when Erisi's expression shifted to one of horror and his personal assessment of S'kefs fashion sense came to light, it was sorely tempting. S'kef frowned and reminded himself that it wasn't very becoming of an acting Weyrleader to run around snapping the necks of weyrlings. Such overreaction was unbecoming!

He certainly couldn't let it go, though, even though his initial flickering of anger quickly passed. The dour brownrider smirked and shifted the jacket down into his arms. He looked it over and shook his head slowly. "You feel that way, do you? What a shame," he said.

He looked to the little greenrider almost lazily. "So, I see your Weyrlingmaster failed to teach you your place, little greenrider. It would be a shame if someone else had to." He spoke casually, as if he wasn't serious, but the almost imploring gleam in his eyes begged to differ.

'He just threatened me!'

But he also insulted your Weyrlingmaster in the same breath.

'That doesn't excuse that this prick just straight up THREATENED me!'

I will get him back for you.

'Okay... wait, what, no!'

You insulted his fashion sense.

'I was justified in that!'

Their banter played out in the span of seconds, Erisi's blue eyes hardening on S'kef. He hated the man already, and having S'kef go all high and mighty on him made Erisi hate him even more. Of course, he wasn't willing to have a fight with the pseudo Weyrleader because he was fairly confident S'kef played a large role in D'ren's attempted murder. Erisi didn't quite want to be victim number two, or the victim that S'kef actually managed to kill. Way to botch the first murder up, brown noser. Hah, it suddenly occurred to him why having a brown dragon suited S'kef so perfectly, besides being completely incompetent with running a Weyr.

"The stitching is terrible," Erisi pointed out. He would have tried to smile, but nothing could make him smile at that particular asshole. Erisi had standards, and such standards were not going to allow him to cater towards position-thieving bastards. "Seriously, go get in fixed before your lover doubts your senses and crawls into someone else's bed." His words weren't exactly insulting, nor aggressive. Rather, if he was with any of his friends it would have been assumed to be playful banter. It was banter, but lacked a great deal of playfulness.

You should leave. Don't mess with him.

'He's a little bitch!'

Yes, but I prefer you alive over dead. Charath's concern only reflected off Erisi's discomfort by having the Weyrleader try to lord over him. This was why Erisi hated Weyr structure. As a Harper he was far more in charge of himself, and well Holds were far larger communities. It was difficult to run into anyone of importance - not that he was implicating that S'kef was important. S'kef could go drown in a river for all he cared. Now that would be an awesome end, and deserved.

"My place is up North. Funny how no one seems to be in their proper place anymore," he deflected with just the tiniest of frowns.

Again with the coat. S'kef smiled good-naturedly at the weyrling, focusing not on Erisi's words, but rather on the hardening expression of hatred in the clever young man's eyes. S'kef silently requested Tyrrisath deliver the young man's name so they could properly converse, nodding with presumed amusement at Eri's comments and then taking a sweeping step froward.

"Erisi," S'kef said, lightly placing his free arm around the young man's shoulders and sweeping him firmly down the hallway. His arm stiffened, intent on guiding the young man along whether he wanted to come along or not.

"Don't you think it's a touch insensitive to talk about the North while our dear Weyrleader is lying on what may well be his deathbed?" he said, shaking his head in distress. "D'ren had put his sweat and blood into keeping us all alive and healthy for all these turns. We can't abandon him the moment he hits a snag....now can we?"

He smiled amiably, nodding his head to Erisi. "But you are right. There are many who feel the same as you do...but it would do them well to be patient." He released the greenrider before giving him a firm slap on the shoulder, masking it as an act of playfulness, but perhaps falling a little heavier than was necessary.

"But I wouldn't expect a green weyrling to understand the subtleties of politics. Now, why don't you be a good boy and keep your nose out of other peoples' business?" He smiled and lifted a brow. "And their closets." He didn't much care about the stitching on him damn jacket, but leave it to a greenrider to fuss over such a trivial thing!


"But you're a smart kid, yes? You already know that."

Powerplay with permission!

'I am going to get knifed my sleep.'

That's impossible when you don't spend a night in your own bed.

'You're not helping!' Erisi felt an arm come around his shoulders, sending alarm triggers up to his mind. He was never fond of physical contact outside of the bedroom. The Weyrling was not a personable figure - he wasn't exactly hated, but he wasn't the most well liked individual in the Weyr. Most people were convinced that all Erisi was good for was warming their bed - and sometimes that was very much the truth. He wanted to balk at the touch, give S'kef a scathing remark, but held himself back. The young man was tense in S'kef's grip, but unresisting otherwise as they began to walk down the hall. So long as he wasn't guided to some dark corner he would be fine.

I won't let him knife you.

'YEAH, you're doing a FANTASTIC job right now, Charath.'

Do you want me to see if Valerian will come rescue you, since apparently I am inept at it.

'...No.' Charath could almost hear the distress in his voice, and definitely could hear the pout in it.

The pseudo Weyrleader was chatting him up, and Erisi couldn't keep the disapproving scowl off of his face. He was trying to be a little more careful around S'kef now, but there was little he could do to ease the urge to punch the brownrider in the face. He felt as if he were being baited into saying something he'd regret, that or he was being outright chastised for having a differing opinion than most of Katila. "Fun-"

Don't. Charath reminded him sternly, and for once Erisi kept his tongue firmly where it belonged - in his mouth and not speaking venomous words.

He grimaced as S'kef clapped his shoulder, resisting the urge to rub the slight hurt away. The brownrider was clearly the biggest dick in the entire Weyr, and for some reason that had earned him the position of temporary Weyrleader. It was a position he obviously did not deserve, if he spent his time chastising Weyrlings. Erisi was sure the position of Weyrlingmaster would be easier for him to secure, and more his rightful place. Shells, he'd get to play the little lord over a class! It should be thrilling. "I think most have been awfully patient, considering how long we've been trapped down here."

Oh ho bitch, want to say that again to his face? He could practically taste the insult on S'kef's words. He was a Harper before he had ever Impressed, and a sharding smart one at that! He knew when he was being insulted, and S'kef was definitely fitting into the holier-than-thou role. "It's a Weyr, you can't expect anyone to keep their business secret forever," he answered with a sly smile. Erisi was not the type to just sit back and let someone talk over him.

I Impressed to an idiot.

S'kef lingered at the end of the hallway for a long moment, hand resting lightly on Erisi's shoulder as he came to a slow stop. The brownrider accepted Erisi's sassy words without any immediate complaint, though he did send a small quip or two towards Tyrrisath. Were the brown dragon privy to Charath's words, he'd have been inclined to degree. He reminded his bonded to keep his temper under control, but made no attempt to restrain him from retaliating in another way.

"Erisi," he said lightly, after asking Tyrrisath to supply the green weyrling's name. He turned around, looking down at the young man with a blend of disappointment and morbid amusement. A cruel smile appeared and his eyes darkened slightly. "Poor boy. Now try being here for fifteen turns."

There was a distinct thread of hatred in his voice. His eyes narrowed and he exhaled slowly, letting the subtle flash of anger fall away. He offered a crisp smile in it's place.  "If you think I'm D'ren, you are very mistaken, my little friend."

He gave Eri's back one more firm pat, once again harder than it needed to be, and turned to walk away. "Keep your mouth closed in the presence of your betters," he said casually over one shoulder. "And be thankful that I doshare D'ren's kindness and patience." There was a hint of brightness in his voice, but it was more from self-satisfaction than actual mirth.

Congratulations Erisi, you found a clue!

Clue 11:

As S'kef walks away, two crafters walk past, whispering scandalously about him as he passes.

“You know, I’m surprised more brown and bronzeriders aren’t pissed off that S’kef jumped on the job. I’m sure a lot of them would have loved a shot…” one of them says idly.

The other smirks. “Think any of them might have done it?” he asked.

The other shrugs. “I dunno. Some of them are crafty, though. Does anyone know where R’nya was that night? They say he was having some disagreements with D’ren, and he’s so quiet and…I dunno. Just seems like a sneaky bastard to me. I think someone should check him out.”

“Do you think S’kef will?”

“I don’t know…Kinda doubt it.”

“You know,” says the other, “there’s S’thor, too. I haven’t seen much of him, but I don’t know that he has any connection to the Weyrleader.”

“Who knows, dude…”

The other one shrugs. 'What about T'shiro? They say he and S'kef really don't see eye to eye, and they're both in R'nya's wing."

"T'shiro? I don't think so."

"Man, they say he's a totally different person when he's working. Cruel and severe. Everyone in their wing thinks he's a megalomaniac..."