Fear and Loathing [A'liran]

The roar outside sent a shiver down her spine, yet she had no idea why.

Elisel looked up from the list of stock in front of her, blinking in surprise. The howl had echoed into the kitchen, catching her off guard; they didn't often hear flights happening this close to the stock rooms. But the greens around here sometimes went into flight lust with seemingly little warning, so she shouldn't have been that surprised. Setting down the parchment in front of her, she began to carefully restack the store of dried fruit she had been counting.

Glancing out from the kitchens, she noticed all seemed to be quiet...for now. Depending on which of the greens was flying, that would change. Some flights were small, some ended up with too many, but either way the wine would end up flowing. Best do the prep work now, she figured. Upon completion of the inventory, Elisel pulled out several skins of wine, setting them out with a fresh pot of klah and a basket of rolls. Good enough for a flight; they happened often enough. Satisfied with her work for the evening, she turned to walk to her room for the evening.

As she stepped outside, the hints of warm spring danced in the breeze without. The moon shone brightly overhead, highlighting the stars in the distance. There was no hint of the flight at this point; no dragons dancing through the sky. Must have been a quick flight, she mused as she headed towards her room.

Little did she realize...the next couple of hours were a blur. The shadow, falling over her as she walked. The fear as the strong hand gripped at her shoulder, spinning her around. A mumbled apology, a whispered plea to be released. The rough kiss against her shoulder, the ripping of fine cloth, the smothered scream as she clawed back. The slap across her face, the snarled threat, the anger as he stormed away.

She crawled down the hallway from the storage closet he had dragged her into, the soft glow light searing her eyes. A soft whimper escaped her throat as she grabbed at the remnants of her dress, the scrapes and bruises burning as she kneeled there. All she could do was sit there for the moment, her shoulders shaking as the tears began to fall down her face.

Hey! I moved the topic to the Craft Hall, because I realized that the Weyrfolk  Hall hadn't been built yet at the time of the thread. Sorry for the confusion!

A'liran was no stranger to flight violence. He'd ducked his head for the brief but rowdy flight, keeping his own beast as calm as he could and searching out somewhere nice and safe to hide. The greenrider often took other flights a a chance to go questing for some fun, but there was a little too much blood in the air tonight. Maybe it was because his own flight had fallen only a couple sevendays before. He was still sore, ribs aching from rather hefty blow by the bronzerider who'd caught him. The rider and his dragon both insisted that it was an accident, but even if that was true, Ali was far form inclined to accept the apology.

They were all the same. That was how he saw it. That was how he justified his anger and defined his own position among his fellow riders. They were all the same, and he was the victim. He would never accept their apologies.

Frustrated by the mood the flight had put him in, Ali skulked off to the crafter's hall to get away from the commotion. He was overreacting, both he and Astoreth knew it. Greenflights happened all the time, and this one hadn't even been particularly bad, but every greenflight seemed to put Ali in this mood lately.

Fuck those whores and fuck the other riders, too... he grumbled as he stomped down the hall. He pushed past one snarling, grumpy man who looked like he thought about stopping to say something. Ali's eyes flashed with anger and he momentarily bucked up to the man, but the altercation passed so quickly that the sore greenrider almost wasn't sure what had happened. The bastard was obviously in a hurry to huff off, and Ali imagined he was probably lucky to not have been grabbed.

You're too much work to be worth it Astoreth predicted in a dry, judgmental tone. Ali could practically felt her consciousness huddling up beside his to help keep him safe. You're too strong for that

"Maybe," the greenrider growled, pacing around the corner only to hear muffled tears.  He frowned and scanned the hallway, quickly catching sight of a woman. His expression soured.

"The shards..?  Are you okay..?" He held his hands out, not sure if he should actually approach or not. It distracted him from his own foul mood, but that wasn't the same as curing it.  Instead, he now had a new reason to be angry.

That explains it, haha. I wandered around the Weyrhall section, going "what did I do?!"  Makes much more sense now.

Elisel winced when she heard the footsteps approaching once again. Was he back so soon? She didn't know what would happen if it was him. Anxiety rolled over her, and she found herself trying to stand and scramble away at the same time she tried to curl into a ball. The end result was her half-stumbling up before falling down again, tripping over the cloth she tried to keep against her body, hiding the shamefulness of her bruised, exposed skin.

"Please...please, please, not again," she begged, her eyes squeezed shut. She took a deep breath, trying to stand again, and managed to lean against a wall, pulling herself up slowly. She opened her eyes and trembled, avoiding eye contact by looking down and away. She didn't need to see him again, she didn't -

This one was different. Another wave of fear rolled over her - he'd called reinforcements. "I promise, I'll do whatever you want, please just don't...don't..." She shuddered, still trying to clasp her clothing close. Tears fell to the ground, making the floor a little slick. She lifted her face, unsure of what to do to convince this man not to hurt her like his friend had. He looked angry already, putting her odds at not the greatest to start with.

She didn't think the horrors were over just yet. Maybe if - when - he attacked her, she'd be able to get some leverage on him. But despite his short stature, he looked well versed in the ways of being a rider, and he was athletically built. There wasn't much she'd be able to do to stop him, if he really wanted it. She'd just have to try to appeal to his...good nature?

Using one hand to hold the scraps of her top, she reached up to feel at the source of the heat and pain from her face, running her fingertips over the handprint on her cheekbones. Her soft eyes met his, and she stared at him, gaze down. "Please, rider...I won't..just don't..." She couldn't finish her sentence, her voice creeping up to an almost hysterical whisper as she stood there, trembling against the wall.

Ali paused, watching the frantic woman with confusion and a hint of anger. Why on Pern was she clamoring at him like this? What did she want? He started to recoil in frustration, but after a moment of focus, he realized he wasn't being bitched at or attacked. The woman wasn't attacking him, she was crying! The greenrider's weary frustration shifted quickly to a more protective anger as he took a step towards her.

"Hey...I'm not going to do anything to you," he said, his sense of justice almost insulted and absolutely alerted. Ali hated to see anyone suffer or be marginalized, and even if he didn't know the person in question, he was often quick to jump to their aid. A defenseless woman, and a non-rider at that? He could only imagine what had happened to spur her to such defensive panic. Ali's wild imagination was difficult to control sometimes, especially when he was carrying recent hardship of his own. He would rather help someone else than linger too long on the injustices done to himself, so the moment the situation became more clear, he was all over it.

"Hey! Calm down, okay? I'm not gonna hurt you," he said quickly, holding his hands up to show that he was harmless and unarmed. "I'm A'liran. Do I know you?" It was too dark to make out her face. He'd seen most everyone around, but he didn't know everyone well enough to guess her identity by silhouette.

He took a step back, giving her some space. He couldn't help but wonder if her panic had something to do with the fleeing form that Ali had just pushed passed. Was that man responsible for upsetting her? The bastard sure did seem to be fleeing the scene in a hurry! Typical...

When she saw him hold his hands up, her first instinct was to pull away and hide from the hit she was sure was about to follow through. After a moment, however, she realized he was trying to seem less threatening. A low sob rumbled in her throat, but she tried to swallow it down, instead huddling and staring at him through hollow, tear-filled eyes.

"I'm...Elisel." Her fear echoed clearly through the soft whisper, and she leaned on the wall for support, still unwilling to believe he wasn't trying to trick her. The memory of the hands on her flesh, gripping her and bruising her skin was still too fresh. She took another soft, almost gasping breath but slowly crept back to sit in the middle of the hallway, letting the light fall over her as she let herself hope that maybe...maybe this person could hide her somewhere safe for now.

What there was to be seen wasn't pretty. Heavy bruising lined her upper arms, and her left eye and cheekbone were a dusky purple color. Her eyes were swollen from the tears, and her mouth still trembled softly. The worst was her eyes - they seemed full of the dull fear that only victims knew. It was clear she probably didn't fight back like he did, seeing as she wasn't used to having to do so. She slowly pulled the rags of her top around her, trying to shield herself as much as she could.

"I...can you help me?" It was a whisper, one full of pain and the hint of hope, and she dared to think that maybe she wouldn't be left here to deal on her own. She desperately needed a friend right now, and she could feel the rising feeling in the back of her mind that meant her panic was going to come back - the tightness in chest, the dizzying feeling that came over her. "I just don't want to be attacked again...I need to go, soon, somewhere safe..."

Ali's eyes widened in dull recognition of the marks scattered across her face and body. Even in the low light, he could make out the darker blotches. This woman was covered in bruises. Ali's lip twitched. "The fuck...?" he asked, reaching forward with one hand to lightly guide her closer. His movement was cautious and slow, not wanting to spook her or make her think she was in any further danger.

"Come on...let's get you a healer," he said, his voice gruff and filled with slow-burning anger. He knew what it was like to be covered in those marks. He knew what it was like to feel weak. He wasn't exactly good at being comforting, though. Ali was more than willing to throw himself between any helpless person and whatever threat was endangering them, but he wasn't so good at damage control. He was angry and reckless, filled with a strong desire to enact revenge on behalf of those wronged, and lacking the self-control to stop himself from doing it.

Astoreth hissed and coiled tighter on her perch. Her red eyes followed the man responsible as he disappeared into the darkness. She considered relaying the information to Ali, knowing well that he would have preferred to fly off into the darkness after the other man, filled with some self-righteous desire to right whatever wrong had been done, but she stopped. She and A'liran were similar, and she'd shared his rage and his indignation many times. She'd also shared in the suffering that resulted, and right now she could not bear to feel her rider in pain. She watched with misgivings as the man disappeared and reached out to her bonded with a gentle voice, soothing him, begging him to be still and soft for her. 

Astoreth's touch calmed Ali, but it also sent a shiver of frustration across his body. "Fuck's sake," he growled, heart quivering in anger. He looked back to Elisel, his expression fierce. "Come on...we're gonna get you somewhere safe, and if anyone so much as looks at you sideways, I'll kill them."

Okay, so he was exaggerating. He wanted to mean it, though. He wanted to let his frustration loose on someone deserving. He'd felt this gnawing sense of helplessness so many times before, both over his own pain and that of his fellow greenriders. How many times had he comforted one of them after a bad flight? How many times had he chosen to comfort one of them over comforting himself? It didn't make him feel any better, though. It just made him feel useless. The damage had already been done!

He didn't reach for her hand. He didn't even look at her again. He just turned urgently, eyes scanning the hallway to make sure all was clear before he motioned for her to follow. "...Come on. Hurry." He took a few long steps before pausing. "...I'm A'liran."

Elisel shrunk away at first, but as long second after second passed, she realized he would not hurt her. She didn't want to trust him. She didn't want to think that it was all going to be okay; it certainly didn't feel that way. But she needed to believe in something, or she was going to drown and die. And this A'liran seemed as much as something to believe in as anything. Taking a deep breath, she slowly came forward, taking the time to stand using the wall.

She was still nervous - he seemed so angry, and the last thing she wanted to see was more violence. The thought of another rough grab, a swing made her shiver, and she took a deep breath, trying to push the fear away. If she let the anxiety take over...well, she couldn't worry about it. Right now, she had to force herself to just stand and follow. She was hoping the process of getting up and walking would fight back the urge to just lie down and never get up again.

As she slowly stood, she realized her shirt was a problem. When she had...she winced, and she tried again. When it happened, he'd just ripped her tunic open. With A'liran's reaction to the damage on the surface, she was reluctant to let him see the bruises beneath. She didn't want to see them herself. All of her ached, and it just made her miserable. "Um...A'liran..." The name was pretty, and she focused on that thought. It kept her calm.

"May I borrow your coat, A'liran?" She stood in the shadows of the hall, holding the biggest section of fabric over her chest and abdomen. She glanced down, wincing at the openness. It was embarrassing, and it hurt, on many levels. She glanced around uneasily and begin to slowly follow after A'liran, unsure where they could go that would be "safe". He was out there, after all.

"My coat?"

Ali turned around, looking her over more carefully for the first time.  It wasn't cold. Why did she need a coat? The reason was unfortunately all-too obvious once he looked. He frowned a bit and peeled his thin jacket away, offering it to her without another word. He looked away discreetly, both for her benefit and to hide his toxic expression. He was outraged. This was just another night to most of them, wasn't it? The sort of people who'd done this? Just another night, and just another victim that couldn't fight back.

Maybe he was being dramatic or sensitive. That's what most people would have told him, and not just the aggressors. His fellow greenriders would say the same. Back in the north, the lower  caverns women would have said it, too. They would have told him that he was wasting his time, his energy, his youth...And in time, he would waste more. It was just tiresome.  Wearying. Heartbreaking.

He sighed once, then started to walk again. "...Let's talk about something else," he said curtly, not realizing his cross he sounded until a few moments passed. He winced a little, feeling a spike of annoyance at himself this time. "...Ugh, sorry about that..." he grumbled, wondering if the muttered apology would make him seem less like an ass, or more like one.

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