[G] [C] 733.06.01 | Suntouched Gemstones [Touching]

Ryvian cringed when he saw a fist connect with a nose and blood spray one way as bodies went in the other. He had been too slow, which he knew he would be but hope had been clung to all the same. Since he couldn’t prevent the fight, all Ryvian could do now was keep it from escalating and possibly working it to be self-defence. One hit could be passed off as retaliation for something that was said or done to provoke her if anyone cared; and he was certain someone would. Bloodshed on the Sands during a Touching? If G’rem was here, they’d all be whipped with his stick by now! Thankfully that grumpy old bluerider was busy preparing a graduation for his current weyrlings.

Before Indivara could get back to her feet or leap back on her prey, Ryvian was there, an arm slipping around her slender waist as he crouched down near Indivara. He knew she could easily jerk free or turn on him to unleash her fury on both men but he was willing to risk it. “A clever dragon,” Ryvian spoke in a harsh whisper to Isscer as he caught the latest insult flung at his friend. In truth, Ryvian could be called a friend to everyone with how easily he got along with people and was always in a good mood but a select few ranked higher than the rest of the population and Indivara was one of them. “Her dragon will be drawn to her spitfire energy, love her attitude, and enjoy her humour. Much like I am. Do you have anyone or any dragon that can say the same about you?” He wasn’t one to pick fights or insult people and he really didn’t have anything against Isscer in general but sometimes a situation called for it and when it concerned Nyvian or the girl he tried to pull a little closer, all bets were off.

Indivara gave a snarled, huffing breath of success as Isscer toppled over under her, the girl getting a rush of adrenaline as she realised without too much conscious thought that she had just decked someone to whom she barely made it up his chest. Indivara brawled regularly, mostly in set ups that were clearly just that, but her bad temper and fierce rivalry were not unknown to spark worse fights, much like Isscer’s snippy remark had brought around.

The smell of blood caused Indivara’s stomach to churn, the girl losing colour in her features, but her determination not so much as wavering as she tried to punch and claw at any part of the struggling young man she could reach, not completely unaware of the fact that he was refusing to hit her in return. Pussy! Snarling under her breath, which was coming in rough pants, Indivara lashed out with her feet as he shoved her away, and an arm twined around her waist, holding her light but secure. Indivara rammed an elbow back into Ryvian’s stomach, before the sound of his voice was recognised. She didn’t apologise; instead, blue eyes flared up heatedly and her stomach gave another threatening roll.

“Let me go!” The girl wriggled viciously, but not hard enough to actually come free; the gentle pressure on her stomach quickly hitting home, and she flaked back against Ryvian when he tugged her a little closer again, heated blue eyes glaring as Isscer as he bled all over the sands. The girl’s lip twitched, a twisted sneer taking over her features. “A better one than you could ever dream of,” Indivara snarled, small fingers of one hand fisting in the front of Ryvian’s shirt; her right hand was folded protectively against her chest – it was aching, now, but it was her stomach that was giving her the most issue. Indivara was breathing heavily through her nose, attempting to control the urge to puke by focusing on the ins and outs of the simple process of each breath.

Krypth’s sudden alert had Indivara stiffening against Ryvian, gaze leaving Isscer and turning instead towards the entrance of the Sands, where Krypth – now sitting up – was looking. Indivara, slipping easily out of Ryvian’s more relaxed grip, stood up with a scowl, arms crossing under her less than impressive bust as she glared balefully up at the approaching Weyrleader. There was no regret, no shame, and no fear; Indivara’s face was still pinched from anger and (in her opinion) quite righteous fury. Krypth, who had stood and appeared to have been intent on coming to her defence, was sent a harsh glare from Indivara. and some type of recall by Jada had the gold reluctantly resuming her position, though her gaze was locked firmly on the humans.

Holy shit, seriously?

S'kef's casual observation of the touching turned into something much more seriously in the blink of an eye. He hadn't even wanted to show up. It wasn't his clutch, so who cared? But J'ver made a proper point about appearances and S'kef made a point of taking some time out of his schedule to stop by. He had only just crept in when he witnessed the altercation across the sands, and he couldn't have been more displeased.

It looked like some loud-mouthed boy had provoke that insufferable little wench Indivara. The girl responded by swiftly proving just how unladylike she was. At least she had a decent hook, and at least the boy seemed chivalrous enough to not hit her back...what a pair of fucking idiot kids.

"Unacceptable," he growled simply as he approached, reaching out to snatch Indivara's arm and spin her towards him. While normally he'd have reached for his whip, this time he unconsciously opted for a simpler method: he curled his fist and swung at her, consciously aiming for the little hussy's jaw instead of her nose. As much as he would enjoy putting the bitch on her ass, he probably didn't need to demolish her face. He probably would have, were Tyrrusath not insistently whispering to him about his reputation.

Not that anyone would care. A woman putting herself in a man's place like that? She was asking for it.

"You call yourself weyrbred?" S'kef asked harshly, looking at her as if she were the most pathetic piece of scum he'd ever seen. "And yet you act this way? You are a disgrace, with your shameful behavior and your obvious immaturity," he said coldly, his words slow and pointed. He realized then that he'd probably hit her harder than he meant to, but who cared? The ugly little bitch needed to learn some manners. Were he not tending to his own reputation, he might have said as much. She wasn't worth his insults, though. Just a misbehaving child.

"You are a representative of Katila. Of all the hard work and suffering that the plague survivors endured to bring you into this world. As you stand, you are an insult to dragonriders, and you will remain so until you act your age and learn your place," he said dispassionately. She was young, so he would give her the benefit of the doubt...One mistake. She was allowed one mistake. He didn't feel like he had to say it out loud, either. He was no old softie like D'ren...If she didn't get the message this time, she wouldn't get another chance.

"Both of you need medical attention," he said, motioning impatiently for them to leave. "Tyrrisath has called a healer to tend to you both. Go to the hall, now." He reached idly for his whip, daring them to argue. "Get out of my sight."

Stupid kids.

Being jerked towards the Weyrleader by the grip on her upper arm seemed to do little to phase Indivara, who continued to stare up at the man with an expression that was a mixture of fury, and pride. Desire the man's reputation, and the fact that Indivara had a pretty good insight from not too dramatically enhanced Jada-stories, the girl was never one to cower in fear. Even when her face was being shredded by the bronze hatchling Hoth, Indivara had been in shock, pain, and horrified - but never truly afraid. Whether the girl was capable of fear, or simply too idiotic to acknowledge the emotion, was debatable. Too proud, was the likely reason - fear was for pansies and princesses, not girls that would Impress bronze!

Indivara grunted inelegantly as S'kef's fist connected solidly with the side of her jaw. Her head snapped, and there was a flash of shooting pain that exploded out and sent her queasy stomach completely out of her mind. Instead, it was  replaced by the insistent throb in her face as the girl flexed her jaw, unable to control the livid glare she leveled on S'kef. She hadn't expected him to hit her, and her entire body radiated a far too obvious 'you fucking cunt!' But she made no effort to vocalise her fury; Indivara wasn't completely stupid. She was hot headed and arrogant and obnoxious, but not stupid. She didn't have a death wish, she just had issues.

Her entire face was quickly bruising, the throb insistent as Indivara ignored most of S'kef's rambling about how disgraceful she was (she'd heard that from so many lips!) as her fingers played lightly over the damaged flesh. She'd be black and blue soon, and the girl shot S'kef another pissed and snarly glare as she reached over to grab Ryvian's hand and drag him away when she was 'dismissed'.

Her upset stomach taking a backseat to her aching face, and the tender touches of her still aching right hand, Indivara dragged her friend relentlessly out of the Circuit. It didn't occur to her that he might want to touch more eggs, or that his Teacher might not want him to leave, that his twin was still somewhere on the Sands or even that S'kef had been talking about Isscer when he shooed them away. He was leaving. With her. Now.

They were outside, and out of sight of S'kef and his damned dragon (Indivara had sneered at Tyrrisath when they passed the dragon) before Indivara slowed, letting go of Ryvian's hand so she could poke cautiously at her face. She was a swift and easy bruiser, and was quite certain she looked rather spectacular already.

"Wher faced cunt whore mother fucking son of a thread scored slut. He fucking hit me!" Despite the words (which were ground out with minimal movement of her jaw), there was a smugness held in the upturned corner of Indivara's lips that betrayed her. She was amused, but also rather impressed. Her next comment giving away what had her so smug. "Bet I broke his fucking nose. Pussy cunt."

Indivara threw a snide look over her shoulder, where she was sure the boy was lingering somewhere in hearing. After all, he'd been banished to the healers as well.

{phone tag. Please excuse oddities.
Happy to start a new thread if you guys are up for it xD hehe}

Isscer stared at Ryvain with a blank look before he rolled his eyes. Even that movement hurt, but it was worth it; the stupid Southerner didn't seem to realize that this was not his fight. It was more an annoyance than anything else, and Ryvain went for the most part unignored. Indivara's comment earned her a glare, and Isser spat out blood on the sands, not willing to waste more words on an impertinent girl when they would do no good.

He was in the process of getting to his feet, limbs shaky and weak, when S'kef swooped down on the three of them. Isscer hastily righted himself, willing his knees to do their job, watching with a detached air as S'kef hit the girl in the face. Normally Isscer might have been concerned, but he couldn't find it in himself to be concerned for a snotty brat like her. A Southerner through and through, and he scowled at her as she went, dragging her boy off the sands with her.

Her comment got his ire up, but Isscer wasn't about to make a bad situation worse. He wasn't entirely stupid; as a Northerner, he knew his situation was precarious. If he hated the Southerners, the weyrbrats who were selected as Candidates hated him more, no doubt thinking that the influx of Stolen crafters prevented them from Impressing. Isscer had no desire to bring more attention to himself, and hadn't even thought that Indivara would be provoked to such a reaction; keeping his head down was his main priority.

He shot a grateful look to S'kef, who he would always favor for his views on the North and the Northerners, and headed after the others, trying not to drip blood everywhere.

I would be up for a continuation thread! =]

Ryvian felt pretty worthless in that moment. He stood frozen in fear when S’kef came storming in their direction and only gaped when he pulled Indivara away to punch her. Weyrleaders didn’t punch young women! He didn’t say that though, didn’t even move as he stared at the angry brownrider and his injured friend. How he would have loved to jump on S’kef and fight him or even speak up and say he was the one that hit Isscer but Ryvian failed in every way as a friend right then and only thought of all of that as Indivara grabbed his hand and dragged him away.

In a moment of clarity Ryvian sought out Nyvian and waved at his brother. “Everything’s fine, Nyvian! You better Touch every egg and tell me about them later!” Contrary to popular belief, the twins couldn’t communicate like dragons could and he still had to use actual words with a clear voice that carried over the Sands. His brother would worry about him and Indivara as well but it wouldn’t do to have a pile of people in the room while the Healer checked her over. Actually, Indivara would likely be better off with Nyvian, the one that had a clearer and calmer head – not the twin that couldn’t even stand up when his female friend was being smacked around.

Still, he allowed himself to be dragged away since he still didn’t want to leave Indivara’s side. “Sorry I didn’t step in against him,” Ryvian murmured when they did stop for a moment that seemed designed for Indivara’s colourful and creative cursing. That was one thing no one could dispute; she had quite a mouth on her! Ryvian himself wasn’t known for swearing too much since he hardly even got upset but again, sometimes a situation called for it. “Isscer is a fucking douche. He deserves a broken nose or worse.” It likely wouldn’t come from him though even with Ryvian’s decision to stay close to his friend in case the Northerner tried to retaliate while in the Healing Hall. What better location and time than when your target was drugged up or napping on an uncomfortable exam table?

This time Ryvian took the lead, keeping Indivara’s hand in his as he continued their walk to the Hall and medical attention for both her face and hand. He hadn’t missed how she cradled it against his body after swinging at isscer and he’d make sure the Healer tended to it as well.