Sticks and Stones [M] (All welcome)

S'kef and Tyrrisath

S’kef tried to stifle his smirk as he looked down at his newest tool. He knew he shouldn’t enjoy it. That didn’t change the fact that he did.

D’ren would be disappointed in you. This is supposed to be an unfortunate necessity…not a sport Tyrrisath warned sagely. The brown perched outside his rider’s hut, wings folded neatly at his sides and fail flickering nervously behind him.  He hated it when his bonded got like this, so consumed with his own anger and biases that it bled over into the tasks that mattered,

Worse still, S’kef had a blank check with this one. D’ren had told his Weyrsecond not to hold back.

Tyrrisath extended a preemptive apology and words of comfort to Larrikith, wherever she was.

A few minutes later, the brown appeared above the gather square and settled alongside Ronarth. D’ren was already there, facing the crowd with dour stoicism. S’kef wasn’t surprised to see no sign of Tsuen. D’ren liked to shield her from damaging public relations, he knew. D’ren would take full blame for this, just as he did the childbearing edict, even though they’d come to the decision together.

S’kef smiled. Respectable man, to his eyes at least!

A crowd had accumulated, curious about the public lashing that was supposed to be taking place. S’kef was pleased to see that crowd. They needed to see that  their Weyrleader meant serious business. Too many lines had been crossed; rider fighting, candidates attacking riders and causing uproars through attempted suicide…and publicly scoffing at the Weyrleader? Perish the thought.

S’kef tugged the whip anxiously in his hands, quickly scanning the crowd for B’jin. Ah yes, B’jin…S’kef remembered that greenrider from his days at Telgar.

So handsome. So feisty…he could use a good lashing to remind him of his place.

---

Played by Bluedragon

B'jin had woken early, at Larrikith's insistence, in order to bath both himself and her. The children, which had stayed the night, were returned home, alongside Indamor's blue riding mother; she had been a more regular presence after Talian's little ordeal had set B'jin to shoving her in his home to watch the children that night. None the less, the woman had been a surprising visitor, lingering after the children had been settled, in order to offer B'jin a form of comfort he hadn't realised he'd appreciate quite as much as he had. He wasn't really worried about the upcoming lashing, firmly believing that D'ren was taking the course of action in a far showier fashion than a serious one. He'd been thankful none the less of a warm and familiar body, oddly content with the fact that she came with no ties and enjoyed their easy going time together as much as he did. Larrikith had been pleased to see her rider loosening up and enjoying himself without her needing to insinuate something. She would have to make a note to thank Ayyonth and his for opening the flood gate, when things were less fanatic.

As a result, when the little green landed lightly in the sunny Gather Square at Noon, the rider that slid from her neck held his body with an easy, relaxed grace. The mark R'nd had left on the side of his neck was just starting to fade, but stood out starkly against his lightly tanned skin, perhaps more so to those that knew of the greenrider's previously 'unobtainable' status, and the fact Larrikith wasn't due to fly for another month. Dressed in his dragonriding leathers, the hides obviously new and well cared for, B'jin unbuckled his jacket, revealing a long sleeved white shirt underneath, and placed the leather delicately over Larrikith's neck as the small dragon rumbled softly, obviously speaking to B'jin at the same time, though whatever she was saying wasn't given away by either rider nor dragon. B'jin stroked her nose for a moment, before turning his attention upon S'kef.

Oh, he remembered S'kef from far back before the Plague. The man's brown had been the one to succeed in winning Larrikith's maiden flight, though B'jin was pretty sure the only people who remembered or knew of that event where the two men involved. He certainly knew D'ren didn't; the man wasn't sadistic enough to put B'jin at the mercy of S'kef with that kind of knowledge! B'jin was positive of that. His expression mild, B'jin came to a halt about five feet from the Weyrsecond, his brown eyes taking in the man's badly hidden smug attitude (he wasn't the only one that could see it, surely!) and the whip he was so fondly playing with. B'jin knew, without a doubt, that whether D'ren ordered one lash or one hundred, he was going to be in a lot of pain when S'kef was finished with him. His eyes flashing, B'jin met the brown gaze of the much taller man, and his jaw clenched in unspoken anger. Crossing his arms defensively over his chest, B'jin's fingers clenched into the white sleeves.

Behind him, Larrikith gave a hiss of intense anger, her wings unfolding enough to make her already solid little body look bigger, eyes whirling furious colours at a rapid speed. Touching on her mind briefly, B'jin calmed the green beast enough that she curbed her vocal outburst; her eyes, however, remained a hot and furious red while her wings refused to settle to her sides. Teeth flashed behind a drawn back lip. B'jin! Larrikith hissed into her rider's mind, her objection to allowing S'kef to lash him more than obvious in every curve of her body. She could accept B'jin being punished, lashed even, but that man? She snarled, the sound rumbling up from her guts and rippling through the air and over the growing crowd.

"Hush, love," B'jin murmured, though his voice carried no particular conviction and the green dragon took it less as an order and more as a suggestion, her hissing lowering in tone but not abating. B'jin turned his gaze away from S'kef to look at D'ren with a calculating expression, a cold feeling creeping into the depths of his guts. This wasn't going to be quite as easy as he'd been thinking it would, if only because D'ren had set the Weyrsecond on him. He shouldn't have been surprised by such a thing, of course, but B'jin would have been lying if he had pretended otherwise. The greenrider had been oddly convinced D'ren would be doing the honours of lashing him.

Figured.

As a Harper it was only natural to want to attend major events and record what happened. Even though he hadn’t been asked to do the official record keeping of the lashing, Valerian had decided to attend, his rank and profession proudly on display in the form of knots and the blue shirt he wore. He wasn’t going to do his own record keeping, though later that night back in his room he likely would make notes for his own keeping like he had been doing since arriving at Katila, but was attending to show support for B’jin and Larrikith. Valerian suspected the crowd would be full of rowdy people cheering for a public display of humiliation and the more friendly faces in the audience, the easier it might be to take on everything else. Or so he liked to think anyway. There was also the belief that the little green dragon wouldn’t be pleased with the abuse and while he wasn’t foolish enough to believe he had any major sway over her, Valerian did hope maybe he could help keep her calm while B’jin was otherwise detained.

He didn’t wait to see if any of his fellow Candidates were going or not, preferring to go to this particular lashing alone, and headed off with enough time to make it to the Square minutes before the punishment was to be given. Green eyes took in the crowd as he approached, noting there were some already that seemed to be enjoying it – brown and bronzeriders happy to see a green punished, perhaps? – while others whispered with each other or looked nervous. None of them were truly important however as Valerian watched B’jin and Larrikith land and the rider head to the man that held a whip and looked like he was going to enjoy every swing he was allowed to take. Without meaning to the young Harper winced at the thought before Larrikith’s outburst startled him and drew his full attention to her. He carefully moved closer to her, not wanting to get hurt or rile her up more and stood a good distance from her that gave her some room but was also near enough that he could lightly call her name and let the little green decide if she wanted company or to even acknowledge his presence.

Ten days had passed since Talian's incident. Well, it would be ten that evening. Ten days since B'jin had saved Talian's life, pulling him back from the brink of death and giving him a reason to value his own life again.

B'jin's 'little healer' was still sick. His stomach was still unsettled and his throat still a bit raw, but otherwise, he'd recovered quickly enough. He'd been eating well and regaining his strength, as well as taking some carefully selected medications to help his innards recover from the poisoning. He'd made a point of getting out and walking around a little bit, getting his body used to working again. He was getting enough sleep for the first time since coming to Katila.

Overall, he was doing pretty well. Well enough to get out of bed and come to the lashing, which he'd only heard about the day before due to his general confinement to the infirmary.

He hobbled up, face laden with a harsh frown. He could hardly believe something so barbaric could be true, and yet here it was! And not only that, but the crowd seemed excited! It completely revolted him, but he didn't leave. How could he? B'jin had been there for him! He needed to be there for B'jin!

Good thing Tal had a strong stomach.

He'd pestered Erisi to come and witness the event with him, if only so he'd have someone to clutch to when it got bad. Eri wasn't there yet, but Tal was relieved to see Valerian. Another welcome, familiar face. Tal walked over to his friend and nodded a greeting.

"Hello, Val," he whispered softly, like ice was flowing through his veins. He glanced into the middle of the square at B'jin. Poor bastard.

R’nd had stayed awake most of the night worrying about the coming day, what it would bring, and if he should go. The following day after an utterly enjoyable and wonderful time spent with B’jin after D’ren left them alone, he had gone to the weyrleader to ask him about the punishment and seek verification that he had misheard and the greenrider wasn’t about to be lashed. Unfortunately he had heard correctly and his efforts at changing the bronzerider’s mind were futile and R’nd left dejected and feeling horrible. He blamed himself for being the reason that B’jin was ignoring D’ren that day until the weyrleader had had enough and ordered a public lashing. At the time, B’jin didn’t seem to care at all and certainly didn’t blame him but R’nd wasn’t too sure how well received he would be now.

So he had decided not to show up for the lashing, believing he wouldn’t be a welcomed sight but a reminder of why his back was about to be whipped. R’nd, you should go. It’s not your fault. R’nd scowled at the wall where Ayyonth sat on the other side, currently annoyed that the dragon was always there in his head, trying to bring him comfort and ruin a perfectly good time to pout with self-pity. “I may not have started it but I was the deciding factor and I’m sure B’jin’s realized that by now. I really don’t want to see him in pain and glaring his hatred at me.” No, he wasn’t acting his age but more like the brats that had been climbing on Ayyonth the other day but R’nd didn’t care.

You’re acting like a spoiled child. This has nothing to do with you! Ayyonth’s tone had darkened, clearly getting frustrated with his bonded’s attitude and even slightly disgusted by the self-pity. R’nd put on a good front of being friendly and easy-going but he cared deeply for friends and didn’t like seeing them suffer and if he could, he blamed himself for not keeping them from harm. It was an endearing quality and it made Ayyonth proud that he had chosen someone that thought so much of others but sometimes it turned R’nd into a miserable mess of a human and he needed a good shaking. You didn’t make B’jin do anything he did or say what he did. He was already in trouble and knew it but wanted to spend time with you instead of hearing the new punishment. You helped him, R’nd!

R’nd sighed, and sat up on the couch he had been sprawled on. Ayyonth was right, of course. B’jin had opened up to him in a unique way with the fun they had had and by joining him in bed without a flight being involved. R’nd was, in a way, a needed ray of sunshine in an otherwise gloomy time and hadn’t they started a better friendship with that time spent on the grass? A smile appeared as R’nd looked at the painting of Larrikith and the brats crawling on her that he had mounted on his living room wall, but should he really attend the lashing? Go. He will need friendly faces to latch onto during and after to help him through the pain. You would want that in his position, wouldn’t you? R’nd considered the question a moment. He wasn’t sure. A part of him wouldn’t want his friends to witness such a thing yet it would be nice to know they cared.

Decision finally made, R’nd raced out the door and wrapped his arms around Ayyonth’s neck in a quick hug before climbing to his back. They landed away from the crowd and R’nd stroked the beast’s nose affectionately once he dismounted. You stay here. I’m going to join the crowd and make sure B’jin knows he has my support, whether he wants it or not. With that said and a hope that he would be a welcome sight, R’nd moved up through the crowd until he stood near the front and just off to the side.

Kerrin hadn't wanted to attend the lashing. It wasn't really his scene, reveling in the abuse of others, and unlike some of the other Candidates and weyrfolk he wasn't so close to B'jin that he could claim his presence amongst the crowd would provide any comfort or sense of support at all for the greenrider. And yet, for reasons that remained completely beyond the weyrbrat's understanding, his father had insisted he go. For B'jin to serve as an example to him, perhaps? Kerrin snorted softly to himself as he stood beside the stony-faced brownrider who had brought him there. He'd endured enough punishments in his childhood that he hardly needed to watch another man be whipped to imagine what the sting of a lash felt like. Just the news alone that Katila was reinstating this outrageous practice (for he had heard from the older riders that this sort of thing had been common in the old Weyrs) was enough for him. He could contemplate how frequently that lash would be destined for him just as well in the Candidate Barracks where he belonged.

Sensing his son's attention wandering, perhaps, B'ker had placed a steady hand on the boy's shoulder. Kerrin looked up at him in utter bewilderment at the gesture - just in time to spot from the corner of his upturned gaze the ocean-blue hide of Ayyonth as he glided in to deposit his rider on the outskirts of the crowd. Of course R'nd had come. Amber eyes followed the young man's trek to the front of the crowd, and Kerrin felt a pang of emotion he couldn't quite identify at the thought that the bluerider had obviously come in support of his... infatuation, he'd called it? The weyrbrat wondered what was going through his friend's mind; he had heard whispers that R'nd had been involved somehow in D'ren's decision to punish B'jin so severely. Not that the young dragonrider had told him anything about it. Wisely, because Kerrin wouldn't have listened.

Now, though, something compelled him to break free of his father's grip and push through the throng of people to join the bluerider at his side. Some of the brownriders and bronzeriders gathered around his father were smirking far too widely for his comfort, anyhow - not entirely unlike the creepy lash-holder himself. Was everyone possessed or something, today? Whatever. Kerrin's main concern was not with them and their freaky, misplaced joy at seeing a greenrider 'getting his dues,' or even for B'jin, though some part of him did feel the man was being unfairly made an example of with such a public display of humiliation. Kerrin shuddered to think that it could have been him, which he imagined was exactly the point D'ren was trying to make.

But, no. The boy's main concern today was R'nd, for if those rumors were true... he knew anything about his long-time friend, then he knew the bluerider was already beating himself up for playing a role in it somehow. Whether Kerrin liked it or not, R'nd cared for B'jin, which meant that the bluerider had likely already spent the better part of the morning agonizing over his failure to prevent what was about to happen right there in front of the entire Weyr at Gather Square.

"Orwind..." Kerrin breathed once he'd reached his goal, dropping the honorific and appealing to R'nd not as a dragonrider who outranked him, but at his friend whom he had known and been close with since they were boys. He opened his mouth to say something further, only to close it again in silence. What else could he say? 'Sorry'? For what? Besides, pointing out that R'nd might need the support of his friends right then just as much as the greenrider did seemed disrespectful to B'jin. And so Kerrin remained quiet, trusting R'nd would know why he had come, as he turned a solemn gaze back to B'jin and the cruelly smirking brownrider who stood before him.

His stomach churned from the knowledge of what was going to happen. This was going to only make him feel more ill when this public display began. Erisi hadn't wanted to bear witness to this, but Talian had insisted he come. He was a good enough of a friend to pull through for the Healer now, but he wasn't happy. The discomfort he felt was written clearly on his face, even his posture was unnaturally rigid. Erisi stood beside Talian without a thing to say, which was always a bad sign when concerning Erisi. He was one to voice his opinion of events at every opportunity - he was a bit of a born gossip, the vindictive kind. This, however, was something he did not even want to touch.

Instead of pulling the Weyr together like it needed to be, D'ren was going to divide it further by issuing harsh physical punishments on those who misbehaved and stepped out of line. If there was ever a reason to hate Katila Weyr, here was one. Erisi didn't like the Weyr, but he tended to think he knew what was right for it. This was only going to seed dissent. Enough people were remaining in line that there was no need for B'jin to be made an example of. The people who didn't agree with how Katila Weyr ran were numerous, but very few were open about their opinion. It very well could have been Erisi being put up for a whipping instead of B'jin, considering the conflicts he had stirred.

That was an unsettling thought.

"Are you sure you want to be here for this?" he asked Talian through gritted teeth. He was frustrated, uncomfortable, and this really did not sit well with him. He would have stayed in his barrack to avoiding bearing witness to what was about to happen. If he now wasn't so scared of receiving the treatment B'jin was bound for, he would have voiced his thoughts. Erisi was the type of person to walk right up to D'ren and inform him of how he felt - but that... clearly was not an option.

Erisi had a nice body. He wasn't going to risk scarring it just so D'ren could send a violent message to all of the inhabitans of Katila Weyr.

Valerian nearly missed hearing the healer softly say his name but catch it he did and he turned to frown at Talian, though he was a bit glad to see him getting out more now. But did it have to be for a lashing? “You’re not supposed to be here,” he sent a glare to Erisi trailing behind their friend. It wasn’t that he thought Talian was too weak or sensitive to witness such an act that it would hinder his recovery and moving on. It was more Valerian wasn’t sure how his friend would react to seeing his father figure in pain and being so vulnerable and had a worrying image of Talian running up to stop the whipping or tend to the wounds as soon as they were inflicted. B’jin was like an annoying glowing beacon of good times and goofy grins. Even Valerian didn’t think he was prepared to see the man in pain or possibly acting like he wasn’t and it was simply a deep massage. Oh how he hoped B’jin didn’t try joking his way through it. One glance at D’ren told the Harper that that wouldn’t be appreciated and would only add to the number of times the whip cracked down.

“None of us should be,” the glare Erisi had received was now turned to the weyrleader before green eyes softened and fell back to the hissing green dragon. It was an old weyr tradition, Valerian knew that and could respect such things, but this was barbaric. He wasn’t a fan of pain as Talian and Allendris had teased him about early on and while he was sort of close to B’jin and might call him a friend when pressured enough, the Harper wasn’t sure he would even like witnessing someone he didn’t like or know up there.

“I don’t think she’s going to take the lashings very well,” Valerian spoke softly to his friends but his gaze remained on Larrikith. He saw what she had been like while protecting the Healing Hall when one of B’jin’s loved ones was in pain and dying; how was she going to react to her lifemate being whipped?

Talian turned his eyes towards B'jin as his friends, in turn, told him that he shouldn't be there. "I know it won't be pleasant," he said in a sad, broken voice. "But he was there for me the other night. I'm sure it wasn't pleasant for him. I owe it to him to be here," he said. He'd come wearing his knots and with his headband hanging loosely around his neck. He was ready to rush to B'jin's aid if the poor greenrider was really hurt.

"This is disgusting," he said softly. A quick survey of the area revealed plenty of their fellow candidates in attendance. He imagined the leadership would want them there; a warning in case anyone else tried to start trouble. He slid closer to Erisi as the thought crossed his mind, almost in a protective gesture. Tal was normally far too submissive and timid to be even vaguely protective, but recent events had provoked a bit of flame in the healer. He was determined to hang on to Eri and Val and never, ever let go.

He nodded slowly at Val's comment concerning Larri. The poor dragon would undoubtedly suffer just as much as B'jin. Tal legitimately pitied her. "I think the leaders' dragons can control her somehow, so she won't try to intervene," he said with distaste. He wasn't sure how it worked.

He slowly looked to Eri again. "Thanks for coming..." he said, though he imagined one of them would have followed him out here either way. They hadn't been keen on leaving him alone...with good reason.

The name he hadn’t gone by for turns spoken in a familiar voice shook R’nd out of his daze and he turned to face Kerrin, grey eyes softening as they focused on a friend and not the brownrider he had developed a dislike of in a matter of minutes. Of course Kerrin would seek him out. The brat knew him far too well and as startled as he was, R’nd would have been shocked if he hadn’t seen his friend then. “You know I hate that name,” he spoke softly and without a trace of anger or even annoyance in his words. In fact, a small smile followed the statement.

Kerrin was right, R’nd didn’t need anything more than the weyrbrat’s appearance at his side to convey everything he wanted to say but didn’t know how to or if he should. The gesture was touching and helped lift a bit more of the poor mood he had been in. It was always nice knowing someone cared even during screw ups. He knew Kerrin didn’t care much for B’jin thanks to their talk out at the lake not too long ago but to put that aside to show his support when R’nd was in need was pretty amazing and mature. His young friend was growing up. He wanted to show how much the support meant to him, how much Kerrin meant to him but public display of affection with him had already landed one friend in trouble and R’nd didn’t want to add another to that list by even giving a hug. He did, however, risk grabbing Kerrin’s hand to give it a good squeeze, hoping he conveyed his gratitude before letting go again.

With his attention drifting back to B’jin and the unfair fate that awaited him, R’nd’s gaze hardened again as he glared daggers at S’kef. He really didn’t like that man. Actually, he didn’t care much for D’ren right then either. The man had the courage to order a lashing be carried out against a friend but he couldn’t actually lift the whip himself? That didn’t sit well with the bluerider.

S'kef and Tyrrisath

S’kef looked to his Weyrleader for approval before taking a bold step forward, meeting B’jin several paces away with whip in hand.

Tyrrisath was right, he was enjoying this too much.  S’kef shuddered mildly as he heard the anxious rustling and murmuring of the crowd. Some looked outraged or nervous, others looked curious and rightfully amused. How delightful.  It meant a lot to him to be allowed this honor, even if it was largely dictated by tradition. What Weyrleader had to lower himself to the menial task of physical punishment?

It was right up S’kef’s alley, though, especially with B’jin.  He remembered that gorgeous little greenrider from all those years ago. S’kef had B’jin’s maiden flight, and in his mind, that made B’jin his property. Nevermind the burning jealousy. B’jin received far too much of the Weyrleader’s attention! A lowly, insubordinate little greenrider like this one deserved his just dues, not strut around bragging how he got to break the rules because he was the Weyrleader’s pet.

“Hello, B’jin,” he whispered under his breath. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? ”

Nearby,  Tyrrisath fluttered his wings in agitation. He was surrounded by a flurry of mixed signals. His rider was excited. Larrikith was angry. Ronarth was anxious…and this didn’t even take the wildly varying crowd into consideration.
D’ren was anxious as well, but he kept his attitude to himself. He cast B’jin a brief apologetic glance before looking stoically to S’kef. “Twenty,” he ordered, hedging almost all emotion out of his voice. He hated to do this. His guts were twisting in remorse already, but he couldn’t show that. Not when he was making a powerplay.

S’kef patted the palm of his hand with the whip. “You heard him, whore,” he said pointedly at B’jin as he motioned for the greenrider to kneel. D’ren couldn’t restrain a disapproving glare.

---

Played by Bluedragon

Val, Larrikith whispered, taking note of the young man that had stopped just beyond her reach. She crooned softly to him, causing B'jin to shift his posture slightly so he could see what was going on behind him. Seeing the young harper with his dragon, B'jin nodded almost invisibly, though his face didn't shift from the blank expression that claimed it.

Your healer brat and his lover are coming, too, the little dragon added quietly, settling her wings against her side with and irritable twitch as B'jin turned and his eyes met Talian's briefly and flicked over Erisi, who looked decidedly ill. Interesting. Crouching down beside Valerian, Larrikith nuzzled his chest with her nose, blowing warm air though his shirt as she did so. Thank you, she said simply, the words foreign but coming out with ease as she touched on the minds of the three young men, giving the additional harper a curious glance before snuggling close to Valerian, her breathing short and shallow as she watched with apprehension.

B'jin's lips pursed as he watched the three youngsters talking quietly, their faces drawn and nervous. Tell them to stop looking like they're attending my funeral! He snapped, half irritable half exasperated. Larrikith snorted, but did as she was told, touching lightly on the minds of all three young men. B'jin says to stop looking so dour, he's not going to die. Her voice was tight with tension, but her eyes flashed with a rapid swirl of dark amusement before spinning back into darker tones to fit her stressed mood. Weyrlife isn't always flashy. B'jin's been lashed before. He'll be fine. She didn't add that the person who had done the lashing had been his wingleader, and a man with a soft spot for both B'jin's quirky comebacks and greenriders in general. He'd gotten three lashes for being cheeky when she was about six, that had barely been worth the effort of removing his shirt; it had also been held privately. Larrikith had quickly realised this was not going to be as easy as B'jin was still hoping it would be.

R'nd! Larrikith shot an image of the bluerider into B'jin's mind, and the man twisted to spot him, eyes brightening considerably before a scowl lit his face as he took in the man's obviously sleep deprived face. Giving his head a slight shake, teasing the man, B'jin sent him a wink even as he touched on Larrikith's mind. The little green gave a soft chirp of amusement as she sought out Ayyonth's mind, speaking with soft laughter, momentarily forgetting about her worries. B'jin says that guilt is not his preferred method for losing sleep. She paused. B'jin will make it up to him later. Whether the last part was a promise from the dragon or the rider, was for the other pair to determine as both Larrikith and B'jin's attention was drawn by the steps S'kef took, approaching the rider and looking far too happy about the task he was about to under take.

"S'kef," B'jin replied, his tone cordial. An eyebrow arched, and he gave the brownrider a dry look. "Not long enough." Never long enough, the greenrider thought with agitation, his gaze catching D'ren's, eyes near blank with the lack of B'jin's usual fire within them. The single word the Weyrleader spoke, however, sent B'jin physically reeling, eyes widening with sudden horror. Twenty?! The blood drained from his face. He was going to be out of commission for weeks! A month? Behind him, curled up as she was around the three men, with her head leaning against Valerian's side, Larrikith let out a mew of horror, her eyes spinning rapidly. All occurred within the moment of silence between D'ren's word and S'kef's next sentence.

B'jin's face hardened, stance stiffening as he glared up at the brownrider. He crossed his arms, gripping the opposite hems and he lifted the white shirt in a fluid motion, tugging it over his head. He dropped the right hem, flicked his left wrist to gather the material as a bundle in his left hand, and tossed the item at R'nd without taking his burning brown eyes from S'kef. He paused for a moment, incredibly aware of the few scattered love marks across his torso, before he stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and the Weyrsecond and his smug expression. He stopped only when they were toe to toe, with the shorter man leaning forward and rising up on his toes, with his expression a mask of steel B'jin hissed too lowly for the crowd to hear, into S'kef's face: "I will always be D'ren's favourite." He held his position for three heartbeats, before stepping back and away, expression hard.

Larrikith gave a moan of distress, the sound too low for any but the three young candidates she stood with to hear. She shifted uncomfortably, eyes whirling rapidly with worry as she moved her head around, staring at Talian with one intense eye. Her mind touched his with gentle fingers, the little green ignoring his unconscious shudder. She included Valerian in her words, and after a slight pause, Erisi as well. B'jin just said something very unwise. Talian, I need you to focus. Please. This is going to be bad, and he is going to need you, but you must promise not to interfere. Talian? Her voice was frantic, as she nosed Valerian, including him in her demand. The little dragon felt she was going to explode from the stress, and her mind latched onto Ayyonth in desperation.

B'jin's words were unwise. This is going to be very, very bad. There was horror, and fear in her voice. She remembered B'jin after her first flight - by his own memories - and she knew that the man with the whip detested her rider; she knew B'jin knew that. But using his own punishment to bring up past and present grievances between the two riders was more than Larrikith could understand, for all her intelligence. She had no idea what B'jin was playing at, and her anxiety was increasing the further B'jin restricted their bond in preparation for what was to come. She gave a creel of distress, her body swaying as she stood, eyes spinning so fast the motion would have been impossible to see, except that the colours were changing almost as fast, creating a rainbow of hot colours.

B'jin dropped to one knee with his back to the crowd. Folding one arm across his thigh, the other hand resting lightly on the ground beside him, B'jin fought the temptation to tense the muscles of his back. His jaw was clenched visibly; he would not be crying out. The last thing he was going to do was give the brownrider glorying over him any more reasons to enjoy his current assignment. His fingers curled into a white knuckled fist as the first blow was landed, but he didn't make a sound; as the first portion of the punishment continued, B'jin remained stoically silent, listening to the sound of S'kef's joyful counting. By the time he paused at fifteen, B'jin was coated in sweat, and his breath was whistling between his teeth, each one heavy and laboured. B'jin's whole body shuddered, thrumming with the pain centred in his back; his next desperate intake of oxygen was a decidedly breathy sob. The motion pulled in a bad way, and B'jin hissed viciously between his teeth as he froze.

Larrikith stood with the side of her face pressed into Valerian's stomach, though the eye facing the world was fixed decidedly on B'jin, barely blinking as she shuddered at each lash. B'jin was managing to keep most of the pain to himself, though his grip was wearing off as the punishment continued, and even his remarkable tolerance for pain was beginning to wear away, cracking under the forceful administrations of the Weyrsecond's whip. There were tears mixed with the sweat pouring off the man's face, Larrikith knew, but lied relentlessly to the man as she insisted no one else could see. He wouldn't be able to hold up under the next five, she knew, but she was so proud, and she loved him so, and with her small face pressed solidly to Valerian, Larrikith fed B'jin a combination of lies, love, and strength.

S'kef and Tyrrisath

S’kef’s face twisted and his eyes flared with sudden rage. He contained it well, his muscles twitching subtly and his knuckles clutching the whip until they became white, but he didn’t lash out. He couldn’t believe the audacity! B’jin was obviously just as ‘spirited’ as ever, spirit that everyone from the old wingleaders at Telgar to D’ren himself seemed to think was cute and amusing. The very notion sickened S’kef. He wanted badly to attack B’jin right then and there, but no. His Weyrleader was watching. He was doing his job right now…

What a glorious job it was.

S’kef would never understand what such illustrious men saw in cheeky, arrogant, disobedient little greenriders like this one. He scowled, glaring death at B’jin as their eyes met, though his heart fluttered in sudden and rather intense desire as B’jin shed his shirt and sank to the ground. It served as a reminder of their comparative statuses, helping to curb S’kef’s anger. He had the power here, at least between the two of them.

He lifted the whip and drew one arm back, a smirk slowly crossing his face. He’d seen the reaction to D’ren’s edict; twenty, not the paltry 5 or 10 the little bastard probably expected. He was getting what he deserved.

S’kef couldn’t muster a reply to B’jin’s sharp words, though. In all this time, B’jin still knew how to hit where it hurt. No, you fool. If YOU were the favorite, then why are you on your knees in front of me he thought resentfully, trying to convince himself of the truth in his own thoughts.

With that thought guiding him, he brought the whip down. It made a pleasing sound as it sliced across B’jin’s exposed flesh, leaving a gristly welt. The pop caused an immediate hush in the crowd. They watched with their continual blend of emotions as S’kef pulled back to make a second blow, harder this time. The first had been a test, but now he put all his muscle in to it. He’d been instructed not to hold back!

And so it progressed, each blow carefully placed in the same general part of the poor greenrider’s shoulders and back, each blow delivered with the full force of the brownrider’s strong arm. He paused for a couple seconds in between strikes, long enough for B’jin to feel the strikes as individual blows, but not long enough to properly ready himself. S’kef counted aloud, probably to keep a silly expression of joy off of his face.

“Fifteen!”

He paused, taking a moment to asses B’jin’s condition before lifting the whip to finish the job.  Five to go…he’d need to make them count.

---

Played by Bluedragon

Ever since the announcement had spread three days ago that a lashing would be issued in the gather square, N'gelt had been stalking it constantly. He had surveyed the area thoroughly, choosing the most suitable areas for a lashing to be held. His loitering was pointless, but he was relishing in the thought of that filthy Greenrider pet of the Weyrleader's finally getting what he was owed. When they day did finally arrive, N'gelt had been one of the first to arrive, taking careful note of who was doing what. It took every ounce of his control not to strut about and order others about, after all, D'ren had made it clear that he was to remain anonymous amongst the crowd. He wasn't sure how many other riders the Weyrleader had asked to secretly maintain the crowd, though he suspected there would be a fair few given that a lashing hadn't happened in over fifteen turns.

Once the crowd had gathered N'gelt kept his eyes peeled for familiar faces. It didn't take long for him to find S'kef, fondling his new whip. Envy rippled through his body, not only did S'kef have the job he so desired to have - Weyrsecond - he got to lash an insolent Greenrider. He gave the fellow Brownrider a nod, even with his envy of him N'gelt held some respect for him. He seemed to have his ideals in the right place, although his reverence for Bronzeriders was a little distasteful.

D'ren appeared shortly after, to whom N'gelt gave a rather curt nod, if only to keep himself in the Bronzerider's good graces. It wasn't long until he saw I'shan's face floating through the crowd, to which he was somewhat surprised. It was well established by now that I'shan hated all forms of violence, why he would turn up to a public lashing baffled N'gelt. Shrugging he made sure he caught the Bluerider's eye before looking away, making no other gestures to the man. Though it had been two months since their initial flight-lust fuelled encounter, he still wasn't admitting that they were weyrmates yet, and he had no intentions of publicly displaying his affection to I'shan.

B'jin's arrival caused a dark glaze to come over his pale eyes; the filth was here. His cold eyes followed him from his arrival via his Green through to where he stood in the cleared area before S'kef. The pleasure in the fellow Brownrider's eyes was clear and N'gelt shared every single scrap of it. The crack of the whip sent a shudder of joy through him, visible to any nearby who cast a glance to him. It wasn't the act of violence that he enjoyed, but more who it was against. N'gelt barely knew B'jin, but Saquith had supplied him with some background information which he quickly pieced together. He had always known about the Greenrider who D'ren fawned over, but never really put a face or a name to them, just an intense hatred that trumped over any other Green or Bronzerider.

Each lash elicited a deep rumbling purr from within his chest. Though B'jin and S'kef seemed horrified and pleasured by the amount, N'gelt was sorely dissatisfied. Having heard how much B'jin had gotten away with lately, N'gelt thought he needed many more, something long the lines of say… fifty. His dragon ought to get a few too! Tossing members of the Weyr about just cause some little shit decided life was too hard. N'gelt snorted, if he had found the stupid man he would have stood and watched him die. Suicide was the coward's way out, he hadn't even lost a dragon! Shaking his head he let his thoughts drift away as he watched the whip land on B'jin's bare back, barely able to contain a smug grin. Fifteen… Only five more? He gave a slight sigh and pout, it was to be over so soon.

When Jada had become aware of the reinstatement of whipping as a method of punishment, she hadn't quite realized what it was going to be like. Her father had strapped her and her siblings when they were naughty, of course, so some part of her mind had chosen to label "lashing" and "strapping" as the same thing. It had not taken long to disabuse her of the notion, nor to realize that this was quite possibly the largest gathering of Katilan residents that she'd yet seen. Not a surprise, she supposed. This was going to be the way things were done 'in extreme cases', and she needed to see it firsthand.

Her first clue was in watching the man who held the whip. She wasn't the people-reader some of her peers were, but it wasn't too hard to gauge the way he twisted the object in his hands, nor the way he looked at B'jin. Jada felt her face pale, and stuck her chin up, trying to peer around through the crowd at who had come to watch. Being of 'fair to middling' height it wasn't as hard as she was expecting. She recognized a few of her fellow Candidates, a few Riders, and of course the people on stage. She saw people who seemed pleased by what was happening here, and people who did not.

Personally, Jada liked B'jin. She only knew him 'professionally' as it were, with the greenrider spending much of his time with the children, just like herself. She'd been stolen around half a turn ago, in late spring, and was still getting to learn everyone. She only knew the many rumors of why he was getting lashed, hadn't heard anything from his own mouth. They were acquaintances, not friends. It wasn't for support that she was in the crowd.

It would be starting soon, she could tell that much from the tableau. Everyone was taking their places. Squeezing Indivara's hand, Jada moved through the crowd, to get a position where the other girl could 'see' and taking a place behind her. A decision she regretted as soon as the play sprang into motion, the moment the whip whistled through the air and B'jin took the first lash. Jada cried out, then bit her lip and aimed a hand in front of Indivara's eyes. "I changed my mind. This is a bad idea."

She lifted her head, looking around, perplexed. She couldn't bring herself to watch, but it was too late to turn back now.

Valerian hadn’t expected Larrikith to be so cuddly with him but he went with it, knowing she needed the reassurance and gently petted her head as she snuggled in tight against him. At her words aimed to Talian, he eyed his friend and wondered if the healer would actually do what the dragon and him had both been thinking and run up there to stop the abuse. “He won’t go until it’s over.” Even if Erisi and him had to hold Talian back to make sure the man stayed put since Valerian wasn’t too keen on the idea of Talian receiving a ridiculous amount of lashings for intervening afterward. Twenty! That seemed far too much for what he had heard to be the reasons behind this entire horrendous act. How could anyone stand that many cracks of a whip to their back, especially with such a sadistic looking man that either didn’t like greenriders in general or had a specific grudge against B’jin wielding the whip.

At the first crack, Valerian winced at the sound and wrapped his arms around Larrikith as she seemed to try climbing into his shirt to escape the scene. It was about halfway through the count that the Harper’s stomach started to turn at the markings laced across B’jin’s back in a very specific area and he had to glance down at the little green’s head, missing three more swings in the process. It was only an odd sense of guilt at not suffering through it, if watching another be in pain was truly allowed to even be called that, with his friends that Valerian turned his gaze back, arms tightening and hands moving gently in small rubbing circles against the smooth green hide. He was grateful every time Larrikith twitched and shuddered since it masked his own, leaving him to wonder only briefly who was doing it the most.

With Kerrin at his side and B’jin acknowledging him with a pleasant expression, R’nd finally realized he wasn’t being held responsible for the lashing though that still didn’t ease his disgust at the tradition being revived and used as a way to scare everyone into behaving without question once again. When Ayyonth relayed the message to him R’nd found himself actually smiling and bit his lower lip to keep from anyone questioning why he was suddenly pleased with the situation. Leave it to B’jin to try and stay optimistic no matter what and joke around! Although at Ayyonth’s confusion over who said the last statement about B’jin making it up to him was transferred to R’nd with grey eyes darting between Larrikith and her rider. It was hard to say who came up with that idea but if it happened, it happened and R’nd would gladly go with it when that time came. First, however, the unpleasant portion of the day had to be dealt with, and how unpleasant it was!

Twenty lashings?! “No!” R’nd called out, as did others in the crowd which he would have been pleased about if he was paying attention to anyone else right then, and took a step forward, intent on intervening in some way whether to demand D’ren lower the number or to grab the whip away, just something! But he stopped and fell back in place beside Kerrin. As much as he wanted to do something, it wouldn’t change anything. His conversation with the weyrleader the other day proved the man was set on his decision and while that number was high and clearly chosen to set an example, it had been thought on long and hard, like every decision D’ren made. The only thing his interference would do was land him next to B’jin and receiving the same punishment. While he was vain and didn’t like the idea of getting lashed and likely scarred from it, R’nd held back because he couldn’t put Kerrin through the horror of watching him be whipped, especially since B’jin would be the cause, and B’jin no doubt wouldn’t appreciate it either.

R’nd had told him to stay where he was on the edge of the crowd but when Larrikith’s fear reached him, Ayyonth wasn’t sure he could obey that order. His rider had gone to show support for B’jin so why couldn’t he go to the little green he could see with a group of Candidates, one of which trying his best to comfort her? Sorry, R’nd, he whispered softly in the man’s mind as he moved towards Larrikith, having judged the space and determined it large enough for him to do such a thing, like you, I have a friend that needs me as well. While R’nd was used to him disobeying in playful moments usually with Kerrin involved, Ayyonth suspected that his bonded’s loyalty to friends would let him tend to Larrikith without even a frown sent his way.

In fact, it sent grey eyes widening in shock but R’nd didn’t look away from B’jin and how he didn’t call out with each strike but looked pale as he was coated in sweat. He missed seeing Ayyonth sidle up to Larrikith and nuzzle her from the opposite side of Valerian but felt the concern his blue had for the petit green. This would be nightmare fuel for quite a while and it didn’t help that S’kef seemed to be enjoying it and putting as much force behind each crack of the whip that he could. Of course he couldn’t speak for everyone but R’nd suspected a lot of respect had been lost for D’ren with fear replacing it in most. He knew he had lost some respect for the weyrleader he had always supported even with some of the more questionable decrees, but he didn’t fear the man. No, he pitied D’ren for having to resort to this.

But the bronzerider wasn’t important right then and R’nd didn’t spare him another thought as he winced with every lash, silently counting, hoping it would end soon and B’jin could have his back tended to and fellis poured down his throat to knock him out. The amount of pain the man had to be in yet holding back on yelling out or reacting to it by even shifting his position was remarkable. Though, R’nd swore he saw tears from the angle he stood at, not just sweat dripping down his face, but he couldn’t judge B’jin for that and was in fact grateful he had allowed himself some form of outlet for the pain.

Larrikith's voice drifted into Talian's mind with unusual softness, lacking its usual insulting or cruel edge. Talian didn't like whens he spoke to him but he knew concern when he heard it. He knew when to shove his own anxieties aside and listen. Perhaps most importantly, he noticed her use of his full name - a rarity he imagined, though he didn't have any evidence to support his hypothesis. He'd just never heard it before. He was usually 'little healer' or 'brat'.

He didn't look at the dragon, his tawny eyes fixed perpetually on B'jin, though he gave her the best mental nod that he could. He wouldn't run out there too hastily. He was too afraid of that whip and too cowed by the leadership here to think of such a thing. He'd never been lashed, but his father had been awfully liberal when it came to smaller-scale beatings. His favored weapon was his riding whip. That hurt plenty and left welts for days. Talian wanted nothing of that real one.

Poor B'jin!

Tal wanted to cry, but he refused. He watched with the same sad, broken expression, never tearing his eyes away even though it hurt to watch. He held his composure, but his heart throbbed with particular pain when he noticed just how badly Valerian was taking it, too.

In spite of himself, the healer took a step towards Val and set a hand on his arm. Talian wanted to give the man a hug, but he was still a bit shy to initiate such a thing, especially in public. The touch would do for now, but Tal was unable to produce a smile to go with it. He tried, but what came out instead was a sour frown.

"I can already tell it's bad..." he said regretfully, eyes locking in on the stripes across B'jin's back. Silently, he admired B'jin's toughness thus far. The greenrider must have been awfully pain tolerant. Tal was pain tolerant too, but that just meant that he understood all the better that a lack of screaming didn't mean it wasn't terrible.

Talian cringed a bit as a second dragon landed close by. He instinctively stepped away. The creatures still disgusted him, though he thought he recognized the blue as Larrikith's new mate. It at least made sense for the beast to be there. Talian frowned and looked helplessly at his feet for a long moment.

B'jin was allergic to numbweed. This was just too cruel. Any chance the boy ever had to respecting or feeling devoted to Katila was slipping away with each crack. This place was the worst kind of prison. But now wasn't the time to feel sorry for himself. How was he going to tend to B'jin?

He found himself leaning close to Eri again, almost out of instinct.

"R'nd?"

I'shan pushed his way out of the crowd, his thin form all but trembling. He'd only just arrived, having spent quite a while that morning fretting about whether he would be in attendance at all. He wasn't super close to B'jin, but he liked to think of the greenrider as a friend. I'shan had many friends. Some, like R'nd and his candidate sidekick Farlint, were close. Some, like B'jin, he felt could be a lot closer, but still had great value. It wasn't that they didn't work well together, it's that they had their own lives to attend to.

I'shan admired the greenrider's spunk, though. He felt like they were cast from the same mold in a lot of ways, though B'jin seemed to get away with a lot more than I'shan could ever dream. That and Ilveriath had never gone berserk and played ping pong with the weyrfolk. Now, I'shan was just horrified. How could such a thing be happening?

He knew R'nd was their strongest mutual friend. I'shan appeared from the crowd and latched on to his fellow bluerider in terror. "I don't believe this!" he squeaked. He didn't hang on for long. His last little incident doting on R'nd too much ended in violence - violence that would probably have harsher consequences next time. Shudder.

Please be calm, I'shan. B'jin is resilient, he will bear this well. Please, I'shan, do not panic yourself Ilveriath said warmly. The dragon was every bit as worried as I'shan, but he kept his reservations buried deep, trying his best to protect his rider from them.

I'shan lingered next to R'nd for a couple minutes before he caught sight of N'gelt. I'shan's heart fluttered. How long had N'gelt been there? The two made brief eye contact before I'shan took off, wriggling his way through the crowd and charging up to his brownrider heedlessly. He all but tackled the man, his arms locking tight around N'gelt's waist and his face immediately burying itself in the other man's neck.

"Oh shards, N'gelt! It's horrible!" he said, clinging to N'gelt as if doing so would save him from being whipped himself. By this time, he could hear the cracking. He noticed N'gelt's joy and while disturbed, I'shan chose to ignore it for now. He still didn't really understand N'gelt's attitude towards greenriders.

Ilveriath decided to preempt any confusion. Do pardon him, N'gelt Ilveriath said with uncharacteristic dryness and a bit of gloom, B'jin is his friend, so this is very upsetting for him. He fears he will receive the same treatment next time he feels..spontaneous

Lashings? Lymsleia still couldn't get over D'ren pronouncement of punishment. The Weyr was going to punish B'jin.

She had prepared herself, admitedly she knew this was much more Talian's field of study- he was a trauma specialist, but she stood ready to take up the slack. She knew they were close. And as she pushed herself towards the front of the crowd saying: "excuse me, healer coming through. Excuse me. Ahh sorry." she finally squeezed herself to the front. She scanned, Talian, where was he? She wanted to comfort him, but she could feel her body shaking. Anger and sadness driving her. "Talian, B'jin, D'ren..." she shook her heqad. This felt like madness.

S’kef and Tyrrisath

S’kef paused to admire his work. For someone who’d never actually punished someone like this before, he felt he’d done a fine job. He could hear B’jin’s labored breathing and see the tenseness in his muscles. He could sense the anger and fear…was it coming from B’jin, or the crowd? The crowd’s mixture of displeasure and amusement was also pleasing to him, showing that he was doing a good job and the Weyrleader’s point was being made.

He inhaled deeply and lifted the whip.  There was just one thing missing: screaming. To B’jin’s credit, the little bastard was actually pretty tough. S’kef imagined he could break him now, though. All it would require was a little more effort and a little bit of precision.

He snapped the whip down again, letting out an audible grunt of effort, striking with every ounce of his strength. “Sixteen!”

These final few were drawn out, one landing quite a few seconds after the last so S’kef could compose himself and hit harder. He let out a scoffing laugh of pleasure as he raised his arm back for the last strike. After it connected, he tentatively considered striking again and pretending like he’d miscounted, but just as he raised the whip, he felt a strong hand catch his arm.
Turning back, S’kef’s enthusiasm flickered away when faced with D’ren’s stern expression. “That’s enough, S’kef. Thank you,” the Weyrleader said softly. He let go to S’kef and nodded to B’jin, his face still largely and uncharacteristically emotionless aside from his sad eyes. “Thank you, B’jin. You both may go,” he said, taking a few steps back and crossing his arms. He waited, fully expecting some questions and perhaps protests from the crowd. He was willing to endure them and answer as best he could. No one said such decisions came easy.

S’kef just nodded. “Yes sir,” he said. He turned away from the scene, pausing to give B’jin one last scandalous smirk before approaching some nearby familiar faces.

His first target? A fellow brownrider. “Hello, N’;gelt,” S’kef said cordially. He actually liked N’gelt, though he had his suspicions about his fellow brownrider’s envy. N’gelt wasn’t the true target, though. S’kef callously pointed the whip at I’shan. “You’d better keep your new pet on a leash. I hear he’s quite a troublemaker,” he said with snide, unrestrained joy. He passed it off like a joke, but deadly seriousness lurked underneath.

He cut his eyes away to some of the others, lingering uncomfortably long on Kerrin and then slowly drifting to Erisi as well. He worked his fingers over the whip as his gaze flickered between the boys, both known troublemakers, though for very different reasons.

He chuckled a bit as he turned back to B’jin, alarmed to see a young man already making his way to the greenrider’s side. “Oh? And you,” he said, pointing his whip at Talian, stopping the young man mid-walk. “….Learn from your daddy’s mistakes,” S’kef said, wholly unaware of the implications of his words.

Talian stopped cold.

---

Played by Bluedragon

I’ll reply properly with  Talian once B’jin has posted, but I did want to fold his initial response into this post for simplicity. Tal has just started to run to B’jin and has stopped just short.

If anyone approaches D’ren, I will post with his account in reply.

If Erisi could have stopped Talian, he would have. The Harper didn't even want to be here to begin with, so why would he want his friend to witness someone he valued get hurt? Nevermind that B'jin had saved Talian's life, so whatever suffering the man was made to endure, Talian would to a degree feel himself. Erisi didn't care for B'jin - he was a Searchrider, and that sort of prejudice was hard for Erisi to conquer. B'jin had Searched Talian to begin with, so if the man had just let the Healer remain at home, Talian wouldn't have tried to end his life here at Katila. He only felt for B'jin because Talian did, and he felt a great deal for his companion.

So, when Valerian glared at him, all he could do in response was shrug his shoulders helplessly. He had tried to convince Talian that keeping away from this event was a good idea, but the Healer had been convinced. If Valerian wanted to blame him for failing to stop Talian, then he could go right ahead. Perhaps Valerian was even right to. Erisi, however, was in no mood to argue about it. The expression on his face spoke enough for how he was feeling. Valerian was smart enough not to press him, because right now Erisi did not need to be pressed.

He was standing beside Talian, but he did not watch the whipping. His gaze was carefully diverted away, though he very well could hear the sound of the whip cracking against human flesh. The sound was horrible to hear, but at least it wasn't coupled with a visual. One look at Talian showed that the Healer decided to brave through the show, and bear witness to it. Talian shouldn't even be out of Healer Hall, in Erisi's opinion. He was just going to make himself mentally weak. With mental weakness came crippling physical weakness, neither of which Talian could afford to experience right now. The Healer had barely survived the attempt to kill himself, and Erisi was concerned that any sort of stress would put his friend over the edge again.

Talian had said he would never try it again, but Erisi was... cautious, distrusting even. Who really knew if Talian could fight the urge to die away again?

It was over, though Erisi refused to acknowledge that he had been counting the lashes so he would know that it had ended. Only when the sound of whip against flesh dissipated did he dare a glance back to B'jin. It was just a brief look, but it was enough to make his stomach churn. Larrikith had tried to assure them that it would be all right, and while B'jin would recover well enough from a physical beating, it didn't make doing so right. This all sat poorly with Erisi, and while the Harper had a fair bit of self preservation inside of him, sometimes his opinionated side won out.

Even noticing S'kef's eyes lingering on him, while unnerving and a little sickening, was not enough to dissuade Erisi from taking action. This was especially true when S'kef had it in mind to threaten Talian.

Sometimes his anger won out. Those were never good days. "Keep an eye on Tal for me for a little bit," he said quickly to Valerian before proceeding to weave through the crowd. If D'ren was expecting discontent, Erisi should have been the first person he thought of. Erisi never intended to get into trouble - it just happened. Either he couldn't keep his mouth shut, or his emotions in check. Both of those things were playing against him.

"D'ren." He wasn't yelling, or even calling D'ren by his title, but still was commanding the Weyrleader's attention. And he would have it - may S'kef be thrown and lost in between. "Is this how you're going to make everyone feel better and come together, by allowing them to be whipped by some sadistic whoreson?"

At least he wasn't... yelling?

Ayyonth! Larrikith's voice was relief and guilt as she pulled away from Valerian's gentle touch and pressed against the young blue dragon, shuddering as B'jin's grip faltered and fell away, his block against her falling away with a snap that caused the dragon's eyes to swirl in sudden wild pain and fear. She shuddered, doing her best to remain composed and keep an eye on the young men as B'jin had asked of her. But the little green was terrified, and riddled with guilt as she watched the last of the lashes fall across her bonded's bare back - or what was left of it, she thought, horrified. Larrikith wasn't stupid; she knew she was a large part of why B'jin was being so terribly punished. Pressed against Ayyonth, Larrikith watched with distress as the ordeal finished, but she didn't move toward her rider straight away. She didn't know how to articulate the guilt she was feeling, and was unable to fade her rider at that moment.

The sixteenth strike caught B'jin unawares, and with the whip landing across his raw skin, B'jin finally gave S'kef what he was waiting for, the sound low pitched and closer to a yelp than actual scream - though he was still mortified at releasing it. It was followed up with open sobbing, as the greenrider giving up on attempting to hold some dignity. Shard it all, his back was in tatters, what did vocalising matter now? Despite that, B'jin made wholehearted efforts to swallow the last four cries, his success debatable as the involuntary sounds were torn from his lips.

At the call of twenty, B'jin toppled forward, his raised knee landing heavily on the ground as he threw out unsteady arms, preventing himself from face planting into the ground. Shaking visibly, B'jin's fingers fisted into the ground, pulling at the grass as he fought to get his breathing under control. D'ren was ignored for the moment, as the greenrider slowly sat backwards, careful not to move his shoulders or upper body too excessively. Breathing deeply through his nose, B'jin staggered to his feet, swaying precariously, B'jin held his arms low and wide to assist with his balance while he tottered in a circle, turning around to glare in the direction S'kef had gone, his face drawn and tight with pain and anger.

B'jin's lips parted, his head tilting slightly to lift his chin and he was undoubtedly going to throw something highly inadvisable at S'kef about his efforts in reducing the man to a screaming child at his feet, when he saw the man arrow in on Talian. B'jin felt his insides turn to ice, the same moment his entire body felt as if it were being consumed by molten lava. Lips twisting into a snarl, B'jin stumbled closer to S'kef, powered by an entirely new force of fury, his voice was clear and contained the bite of between as the greenrider grabbed a fist full of S'kef's shirt and used surprise to fling the man around to face him. He kept the fist full of fabric, using it to reef S'kef closer to him.

"Touch my boy," B'jin snarled, uncaring of any further trouble he might get himself into, "and not even the depth of between will offer your worthless hide sanctuary." His words were no idle threat, and carried all the promise of rain being wet. They were also filled with all the burning fury of the red star, as the shorter man pushed away, shoving S'kef in dismissal and, lip twitching, B'jin took two steps back, eyes hard. No one threatened his loved ones, and especially not his kids.

The greenrider's gaze was torn from S'kef when he heard someone say D'ren's name with such force, and his brown eyed gaze, tight with pain and anger, turned to see who was going for the Weyrleader's throat. He wavered slightly with indecision for a moment, before he let the boy hold his own. He'd had enough for the day, thank you very much. Eyes meeting D'ren's, B'jin gave the Weyrleader a cordial nod, as if nothing at all had happened, before stiffly turning to find his dragon. B'jin's fingers wrapped lightly around Talian's upper arm, and he steered the young healer away from the irate Weyrsecond.

Worn brown eyes met grey as B'jin's gaze paused on R'nd's face, and he offered a bare ghost of a smile, before his gaze shifted to stare at the timidly shaking form of his poor dragon, pressed against the young blue. B'jin's face softened, eyes warming as he staggered, trying not to irritate his back any more than simply breathing was prone to do. He dropped Talian's arm and stopped before Larrikith, whispering her name gently until the little green turned to look at him, her eyes filled with all the guilt she was trying to suppress. "Oh, sweetheart, you're not to blame. Nobody but me, baby girl, nobody but me." Larrikith gave a timid sound, and buried her face against B'jin's stomach. He wrapped his arms slowly around her nose. "I love you too." he paused for a moment, his features becoming drawn as pain shot through his form when Larrikith moved to withdraw her head "Talian?" Coming down off the adrenaline, B'jin's face paled to a sickly grey colour, and he swayed dangerously, shocked by the amount of pain throbbing across his back. "N'weed. Home."

Larrikith gave a sudden bark of warning and fear as B'jin's eyes rolled back and his knees gave out, the man crumpling.

Farlint was not what some would call a Happy Camper when he pushed his way through the crowd. Public punishment was just public humiliation, in the guise of being some kind of corrective action. It didn't correct much for many people. Look at him. He was all sorts of scarred up between his accidents, and his misadventures, and his 'corrective action.' So to hear that it was being 'brought back' wasn't anything special to him- it had just been a nice vacation, now it was back to the real world. As it were.

He didn't like the look on the brownrider's face, though, when he started beating B'jin. Farlint only knew the rider 'socially' but it was enough to know that the guy was decent, if a bit dour. Twenty lashes would have been a fitting punishment, if the man hadn't taken it as a personal challenge to try and make the rider bleed profusely. Maybe he was aiming to make him pass out? He definitely seemed to want to hear him scream. Far's skin was crawling as the brownrider gave in to his passion, grunting in a mockery of sexual congress as he leaned back, gathered his strength and flung the whip forward.

It was downright disgusting. The Weyrleader should have known better than to hand the whip to a man like that. Bad judgement, D'ren.

Far didn't miss I'shan running around from person to person, though he did raise an eyebrow at the bluerider's taste in people to fling his arms around. He wormed his way through the crowd towards I'shan, tucking his mahogany hair in his collar to keep it from smacking people in the face as he walked by. Tall as he was, it wasn't hard to keep an eye on him.

Tall as he was, and close as he was, he didn't miss the way the whoreson who had just beaten B'jin waved his 'tool' in I'shan's direction. Nor did he miss the way the Weyrsecond turned his gaze on other, less-fortunate-looking souls. Other Candidates? Other Riders?

Farlint would consider later what made him step up. He had never considered himself a particularly stupid man, nor a particularly brave one; regardless, he caught himself puffing up, irritated. "Watch where you wave your flaccid little tool, brownrider." he snapped, and glared down his nose- somehow- at the slightly shorter male.

It was kind of like when an animal was feeling particularly mean. You distracted it from the weaker members of the pack.

And if you had to, you put it down.

(Yes, Far suffered from a healthy dose of arrogance.)

Indivara held tight to Jada's hand as the young woman lead her through the throngs of people, the girl's eyes wide as she stared at them all. Indivara wasn't completely naive, she'd known it would be a big event. The Weyr had been alive with whispers and gossip for the past few days, and she'd been in the thick of it to learn as much as she could. Indivara knew B'jin as a teacher - his were some of her favourite classes, if only because the Rider had a tendency to take groups of the younger kids to the lake or he'd give them random lessons, that Indivara had no idea how they were related to the harper craft, but they were enjoyable. He told good stories, too, Indivara reflected, bumping into someone she didn't see step in her way. The girl crept closer to Jada, focusing as they navigated the crowd.

When Jada finally halted, and drew Indivara to stand before her, the girl was frowning and was feeling more than a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of people that had come to see one of their own be lashed. She knew what lashing was, of course. Indivara was a girl that loved stories, and would ask questions no matter how personal or improbable it was to do so. She had heard tales from some of the older riders, and seen scars that marred shoulders and backs from their own lashings. She knew what the day would be, and she wasn't entirely sure what it was that had enticed her to go with Jada. Indivara was a lot of things, she knew, but she wasn't really one to take pleasure in another's pain and humiliation!

The first crack of whip on skin caused Indivara to flinch back into the reassuring body of her teacher, and the girl pressed firmly against Jada. She'd been startled by the young woman's cry, and clung tighter to the hand still held in her own, oddly not offended by the way Jada had stuck her free hand in front of Indivara's face. The weyrbrat's other hand rose tentatively, to grasp at Jada's fingers there, too, and she lowered the woman's hand so it wasn't obscuring her gaze of the two men, the girl shaking as the sound of whip and flesh mixed again and again. Her blue eyes were wide, and horrified, unable to tear her gaze away.

"Very bad," Indivara murmured in a belated reply, her voice slightly higher than usual. She wasn't sure that she was talking about any one thing, however, as she watched the lashing come to a close and the crowd grow restless; the poor man's back! Indivara pressed further back against Jada when one of the harper candidates took off after D'ren and she squeezed both of Jada's hands, wrapping herself in the woman's arms, suddenly very worried. "I want to go," the girl whispered, her over active mind suddenly seeing Erisi being lashed by the cruel brownrider, and her own back being exposed for all the trouble she threw herself in. Indivara shuddered.

With the final crack of whip against skin, R’nd exhaled, having been unaware that he was holding his breath throughout the ordeal before then. He had also been aware of how tightly he clung to the shirt B’jin had tossed at him, grateful once he noticed his white knuckle grip that it wasn’t anything fragile he held and that any wrinkles wouldn’t be an issue right then. He struggled with going to B’jin’s side to help the man to his feet to head to a quieter place to be looked after and staying out of the way for any and all Healers on hand to rush up there and treat him immediately. For the moment, he would stay where he stood, keeping an eye on all the key players and what they would do next.

He watched S’kef finally leave B’jin and head towards N’gelt and I’shan – R’nd didn’t think he had hallucinated his friend’s brief appearance and his for once justified dramatics before he flittered off again – saying something he couldn’t catch but had a feeling it was aimed at I’shan and it wasn’t pleasant. The look that Kerrin soon received didn’t sit well with R’nd either and he instinctively stepped in front of his young friend as if to shield him from such filth while at the same time letting it be known that if S’kef so much as tried looking at Kerrin again he would be going through an angry bluerider first. “Keep your distance from him, Kerrin. Unless you Impress brown or bronze, he’ll look for any reason to whip you now that he has tasted that power, or honour as he likely views it.”

Everything about the public lashing disgusted him but when he saw someone moving towards B’jin, R’nd sighed in relief as grey eyes caught the master Healer knots. Unfortunately that relief was short-lived as Talian came to a complete stop, looking somewhat scared thanks to S’kef’s evil gaze falling on him. Then the unimaginable happened with B’jin rising to his feet to defend Talian while impressively shoving S’kef away. Emotions quickly played across R’nd’s features from shock to admiration for sticking up for his loved ones so beautifully to a small, sad smile when their gazes met and B’jin’s anger lessened to grant him a ghost of a smile. It was only then with the greenrider staggering toward his timid dragon and Ayyonth’s own concern for the pair feeding R’nd’s own, that he was stirred to action.

“Kerrin… thank you,” R’nd knew his friend would understand the implications that carried from putting aside his feelings for B’jin to offer his support to letting the bluerider go to his dragon that was growing restless with concern for Larrikith while checking on B’jin as well. But when he was just steps away from the group, R’nd heard the searchrider’s slurring words and saw him swaying as if he was about to go down. Two heartbeats later and R’nd had his arms full of a rider pushed beyond his limits. He had no idea what to do or if he was causing B’jin more pain by the way he had caught the man and turned his gaze to Talian, the closest known Healer, looking for guidance.

Talian really admired B'jin. In spite of those involuntary cries and hoarse sobs, B'jin had taken what must have been terrible pain with remarkable bravery. Talain suddenly realized his hands were cramping from the tight fists he held while watching the horrible spectacle. He was distantly aware of the discomfort around him - Erisi turning his eyes away, Valerian clutching tightly to Larrikith. The dragon herself looked terrified, an emotion Talian had never expected to see in the stubborn, prideful beast.

Then, it was over. Those last cries were heart-wrenching for Talian, so much that he started walking forward without thoughts. B'jin's back was shredded. He needed attention! Heart pounding and blood surging, Talian ducked through the crowd to meet his friend and provide what help he could.

He stopped cold when S'kef threatened him. Soft eyes widened as Talian eyed the whip, so terrified that he froze where he stood. He swallowed hard and looked at the brownrider with disbelieving terror. "I'm a healer..." he said defensively, voice so shallow that S'kef probably couldn't even make out what he was saying. Talian's shock only intensified when B'jin rose to his defense.

"B'jin! No...n-not for me.." Talian panted, suddenly terrified that his friend was going to get in trouble again for his sake. How horrible that would be! Talian peeled away from the frightening brownrider with timidity and desperation as B'jin pulled him away. "B'jin...don't worry," Talian purred his his 'doctor' voice, warmer and calmer than his usual mincing mode of speech.

He winced, hesitating for just a moment as he saw Erisi walking over to the Weyrleader. Tal was torn. He wanted to go defend Erisi, but B'jin was in terrible shape. Besides, as a healer, it was his duty. "Be careful, Eri!" he called out nervously before turning back to B'jin, just in time to see the greenrider topple over...and to see R'nd catch him.

Tal didn't know R'nd, but right now he didn't care. With the focus of a well-trained surgeon, he took a confident step forward and motioned to B'jin. "Get him to his hut. I'll be there soon with medical supplies," he said pleadingly. His fear was melting away in the place of urgency - not frantic urgency, but the kind of urgency that put him into his most focused and intense moods. He was a healer, this is what he did....and he was more than happy to do it for one of the most important people in his life.

He didn't wait for them to go before turning on his heels and bolting for the healing hall to gather supplies. He imagined the shadow that passed over him was that of the blue.

"Twenty?!" Kerrin had hissed when D'ren had made the announcement, adding his voice to the sudden uproar of astonishment from the crowd that had gathered there to watch the lashings. Even for him, a boy intimately familiar with how punishments were dealt out at Katila Weyr, the number sounded outrageous. He heard R'nd's protest join his own, tensing visibly when the bluerider took a step forward - though whether it was in preparation to stop his friend from doing anything rash, or else to spring after him and join in on the chain reaction of foolish martyrdom, the weyrbrat fortunately never had to decide. In the next moment R'nd had fallen back in place beside him, evidently having resolved to keep his cool. Kerrin breathed a sigh of relief, unaware that he had been holding his breath until the moment he'd exhaled. Still, he remained tense. It was hard to relax, with the emotions of everyone around him running so high.

Kerrin flinched at the first crack of knotted leather against bare skin, and for the first time in his young life the teen learned that for all the carefree bravado he attempted to feign in front of his peers, he was just not the sort of person who could stand and watch another human being be publicly brutalized. The second strike proved too much for him; his head dropped, eyes squeezed tightly shut against both the awful vision of B'jin's suffering and the cruel sneer of pleasure that twisted on the face of the man charged with inflicting it. Each subsequent crack, seemingly louder than the last, brought another twitch of the boy's shoulders. Nothing he did could tune that horrible noise out, and even when it was over it still took most of what he had to open his eyes and take a look at the damage that had been done.

Unfortunately, it was just in time to see S'kef's heavy gaze lingering on him, and that was impetus enough for the nausea that had been roiling gently in his stomach until then to be replaced with a sudden surge of hatred and anger towards the brownrider. Kerrin met that gaze with amber eyes burning with contempt, his lips curling in a mirthless smirk. Let that jerk fondle his whip all he wanted; Kerrin, for one, refused to be cowed by him, and his refusal to wilt or tremble beneath the Weyrsecond's meaningful stare conveyed as much. Fortunately, R'nd stepped in with his warning before the weyrbrat had mind to shout anything unwise. The boy scoffed, but relaxed his stance just enough to let the older man know that he'd been heard, and Kerrin knew that what he said was absolutely right. "I doubt even a bronze dragon would stop him. He enjoyed it. He's sick."

As caught up in his own mini-confrontation with S'kef as he had been, Kerrin hadn't quite followed all of the events that led up to B'jin unexpectedly rising to shove the brownrider away from Talian, who for that matter seemed to suddenly have half the weyr rising up to his defense against the brownrider's threats. As it should have been, too, because what the heck had Talian ever done to anyone?! He nodded to R'nd when the bluerider thanked him, knowing it to be the dismissal it was when B'jin's eyes rolled back into his head and R'nd valiantly rushed forward to catch the swaying greenrider. Kerrin bit the corner of his lip, eyeing the fainted dragonrider in his friend's arms for a moment... and then, seeming to think better of something, shook his head. Now just wasn't the time. He stepped forward, placing a hand on R'nd's shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze. "Catch you later, okay?"

It was the most Kerrin could say, without outright wishing R'nd luck.

Talian turned on his heels and took off in one direction, and the weyrbrat did the same in another. There was nothing more he could do there to help, and Faranth knew how little he cared to stick around to chat with the likes of S'kef.

I'shan's words didn't surprise N'gelt in the least, though he barely even registered them as he watched the final five strikes. He gave a short nod of approval, seeing how much effort S'kef was putting into them and the resulting blood and reactions from B'jin. He placed his hand on I'shan's shoulder, it was the most affectionate move he had made in public so far. To be fair, he knew practically nobody would notice it but himself given that everyone was focused on the lashings.

Ilveriath's voice in his mind was a shock, it wasn't often that dragons bespoke him, even with some of the rather vocal ones throughout the Weyr. It was wispy and flowery, the kind of voice you could fall asleep to. In a way it was like Saquith's, though it lacked the almost-femininity that his Brown's had. The gloom and dryness that overrode his otherwise pleasant voice along with what he said caused N'gelt to pull his lips into a thin line. B'jin was I'shan's friend? As far as he knew, I'shan mainly befriended other Blueriders, or at least, they were the only ones he mentioned or saw when N'gelt was around. This reveal that his lover was friends with a Greenrider was quickly forgotten as Ilveriath continued to talk.

Leaning down slightly N'gelt pressed his lips against his ear, whispering ever so softly to him. "You won't get lashed. Trust me." It was a promise to I'shan, even though he didn't explicitly state it.

The sound of S'kef's voice calling out 'twenty' made N'gelt bring his head back up, eagerly seeking out the back of the lashed rider. The gruesome sight that greeted his eyes made him smirk, he would receive no such wounds and nor would I'shan. N'gelt let his hand drop from I'shan's shoulder now that the brunt of the event was over, watching as S'kef approached them. "Hello S'kef," he greeted. His eyes watched the whip as it pointed at him, no, at I'shan, narrowing as he heard the threat. "He won't be seeing you anytime soon." N'gelt responded evenly. There was no threat in his voice, but it was clear that he expected I'shan to keep his sense about him. Unlike N'gelt, S'kef's dislike of Greens bled over to Blues, one of the few downsides he perceived of the Weyrsecond.

As soon as S'kef had left them, N'gelt wrapped his arm forcefully around I'shan's waist. "Let's go." He growled, not allowing I'shan any choice in the matter as he steered them out of the crowd and away from the threatening Weyrsecond.

D'ren watched stoically as the crowd started to disperse. He caught the inflections in B'jin's eyes and acknowledged them with an almost invisible nod. He felt bad for what he'd done to the greenrider, or in this case ordered to have done, but the longer he remained in his post, the more D'ren realized how wretched life could be. He was in a perpetually difficult position. He wanted to be a benevolent leader, but whenever he showed his naturally kind and paternal side, he was accused of being too soft. Too soft!

Sometimes, Weyr life was grim. As he stood and faced the crowd, his only regret was imposing it on the stolens. Dragonmen like B'jin had fewer excuses, though perhaps B'jin was yet again an exception. He had, after all, Impressed on accident. Nevertheless, a point had been made. The Weyr had been rife with scruffles and trouble-making lately. D'ren hoped this could at least cut down on it, though he wasn't so naive to think it would wipe it out completely. Even the best run Weyrs still had fights.

They'd think twice, though. How unfortunate.

He wasn't surprised when a voice called out to him. He was mildly surprised to see Erisi, though. D'ren smiled shallowly at the boy, fully expecting the candidate to void his second warning with whatever words flew out of his mouth.

Ah yes. There they were.

D'ren realized at once how old he was feeling. "Erisi, correct?" he asked, shifting to face the young man. "I'm going to ask you to mind your tone." He'd had just about enough of Erisi. Poor kid.

Ronarth sensed the distress and started to walk forward. Please don't... he whispered to Erisi.