Fecemi la divina podestate [OPEN]

[nozomi]

Bugs and felines mixed with the absolute stink of the jungle displeased Jessan a great deal more then she ever thought it would. She lived in Southern before, and the prison itself wasn't too horrid in terms of temperature and all of that. What she never took into consideration was the fact that Warden's Weyr happened to be full of cleared jungle, and that it was not a huge system of caves and little else.

No. They lived in a sharding jungle, full of hot, humid plants, mouth-breathing animals, and it irked. She'd even took to pinning those long sleeves of hers to her wrists to allow some sort of relief from the stifling heat to her sore fingers. The multiple layers of her dress were reduced to one, high collar of her clothes cut down to reveal collarbone because, crackdust, it was hot.

She stopped caring about it, eventually.

Still, word somehow managed to filter around the cave system and random other outlaws that something was afoot - something big, as big as their last little to-do. After all, they had two dragons here to check on egg temperatures (and Jessan had little doubt one or both of them couldn't be sweet-talked into some shifts, right?). Of course. And in those murmurs carried the single magic words: eggs.

Told to meet at the very edge of the jungle, outside of their little cave system, late afternoon just before the sun hit horizon, a few already managed to get there, waiting for the Mindhealer. She smiled her gentle smile, scarred hands clasping in front of her. She rocked back on her heels, eyes scanning the few.

"Let's give it a few minutes before the whispers erupt even more then they already have - there's always a few stragglers." Her nose wrinkled, smile widened a smidge, enough to make a brief dimple on her cheek. "But! We all know why we're here - Semith ran, and she's had to have clutched by now. We just need to decide how we're going to get them."

[Spiffy]

Living in the jungle was... different, to be sure. And Bellatrix was in two mind as to whether she liked it or not. Sure, the place was full of psychopaths and killers, but she'd chosen to join them and besides, life was more exciting with those kinds of people in it. Many would count her as one of them herself. She wouldn't exactly deny it. And, whereas in the prison she was little more than a guard, and then the lowest ranked goldhandler and wherling, here in the jungle she had power. She had two very mean whers, one of them very big, and the three of them had been quick to establish themselves as not to be messed with. The whole scratched and bleeding fresh from a fight with the senior wherleader and his gold had done much to assist that image, and they weren't above playing upon it. And they owed her for providing them with at least a little meat the first few days or so, caught by Bellask.

Still, it was hot and not particularly nice (the caves had certainly acquired a sweaty man aroma), and the bugs were irritating, even if they seemed to have deemed her blood not sweet enough to bother drinking (little wonder), but the wherhandler was not above stripping down her clothes to the bare minimum. Trousers now little more than shorts and top leaving her tummy and arms bare, she still nonetheless insisted upon wearing her boots and full array of knives and daggers.

But being cooped up in a cave, even with occasional hunting forays, was getting boring, especially after the excitement of the breakout. She smiled, leaned up against a tree outside the cave entrance, remembering how Z had been begging her to stop. The moment was still sweet, savoured for the next round, should it come. The thought of breaking back in to the prison, and making it back with precious cargo, was all too enticing for the goldhandler. Not the eggs of course, she didn't want one of them, unlike the stocky figure standing in front of her, but just the excitement of the chase was what mattered to Bella.

She turned her head when a figure emerged from the cave, Bellask beside her doing the same, checking who it was. Jessan, the one who'd masterminded this whole shenanigan. Bella had to admire her for that, for simply having the balls to try and the wit to pull it off. The Mindhealer was in her good books, if for that alone; Bella hasn't really spoken to her much if at all, and hardly knew the woman.

"Let's give it a few minutes before the whispers erupt even more then they already have - there's always a few stragglers. But! We all know why we're here - Semith ran, and she's had to have clutched by now. We just need to decide how we're going to get them."

She smiled at that, straightening so that she could better face the woman. "So I take it a hit-and-run is off the cards, then?" she said, decidedly unserious about the whole thing.

Then, becoming more serious, she continued. "I suggest that we go in at night, better still just before dawn. The dragons and humans won't be able to see much and it'll almost be time for the wher patrols to pack in for the night. They'll not be on their best attention." She shrugged. "Just an idea."

[twisting]

Kuriel and Djith were cranky. Unlike most of the others they were stuck sleeping in the jungle. And while Djith had found herself a decent little spot it was still a far cry from the natural coolness of the caves. Kuri could have spent more time in the cool stone, but that meant spending time away from her very large partner. Even the whers gave the yellow a wide berth. Kuriel wasn't big enough or spooky enough to get that kind of respect on her own. She had enjoyed these few days with her dragon though. Djith had been hunting. She wasn't the best at it, she was too big to move around the jungle with ease. Ambush tactics down at the river had resulted in a kill, and Djith was starting to get the hang of hunting in such and enclosed space. She was learning the game trails, where they were and when the prey used them. Mornings and evenings were the best time for hunting, which left the heat of the day for sleeping.

Kuriel was living on the outskirts of the little community. She'd barely spoken to any of the others. The girl was going a little wild, mud streaked the yellow of her jumpsuit and matted her hair. It hadn't taken her long to learn that a coating of mud kept the biting insects at bay. Djith was cleaner, but not by much. She could only soak in the river after it was dark, to keep and overhead patrols from spotting her. The long cool soaks every evening had helped keep her still growing hide from cracking too badly, the humidity hadn't hurt either. Fungus would be a bigger problem than cracking.

Djith had positioned herself on the main path leading away from the caves. It was about the only spot large enough to accommodate her bulk. Kuriel perched lightly on the yellows crossed forelegs. Watching the former mindhealer address the crowd with a relatively unobstructed view. She frowned as the woman brought up the subject of eggs. This place was not suited for raising young dragons. Her mind was already running through the list of changes that would have to be made, supplies that would have to be gathered. They could barely feed themselves, how would they provide enough meat for ravenous growing young ones.

Djith on the other hand, was all for the idea. An entire clutch of little ones to mold and manipulate. We will be their mothers, their teachers, Kurimine. We will be all they know. She purred into her rider's mind. They will need us if they are to succeed. They know nothing of raising little ones. Kuri didn't mention that Djith was still a weyrling herself. She also enjoyed the idea of having a group of tiny minions to mold and shape, but it would be stupid to commit without having a few answers.

The rider waited for the gold handler to finish speaking, no point in being rude. Making enemies of the wher handlers would be dangerous even for her. "What do you plan on doing with the eggs once you get them here?" Her voice was flat, a bland monotone. "Hatch them out in the jungle? Neither Djith nor the green can get inside that cave. And what do you plan on feeding them? Half the people here have been living off bugs. You can't feed hatchlings on grubs and beetles." There was no accusation or anger in her voice. Just calm statement of the facts.

[tuathade]

Even if Arkady didn't have his ear to the ground when it came to rumors in the caves, he would have been at the meeting anyway. Since their little encounter, he'd been ghosting after Jessan at intervals, keeping a curious, watchful eye on the Mindhealer. Never close enough to make it actively obvious he was stalking her, of course... No, no. He'd give her space. But it was a small group of people, their little band of outlaws. You ran into people. You ran into someone in particular rather a lot. Funny coincidence.

His former prison jumpsuit had been more-or-less butchered, the sleeves stiff and rank with old blood hacked off, front left open nearly to the waist. He left the pants legs long - the only possible proof against itching plants, thorns, and bugs as you waded through underbrush - regardless of the heat and constantly thanked Faranth for the existence of sensible boots. Optimism was an excellent trait to have; overall morale in the camp seemed to be dropping rapidly, but Arkady's spirits were constantly buoyed by little pleasant surprises. Oh look! They weren't all dead or recaptured yet! Oh look! The possibility of dragon eggs! Fantastic!

"Best part of any plan is misdirection," Arkady observed with his usual grin. "Why not kill two birds with one stone, and lie to them with the truth?"

Snagging a stick from the ground, he doodled absently on a patch of bare dirt as his other hand waved enthusiastically through the air, tracing the outlines of an idea. "The guards know we're out here. They've gotta know we're starving. So make it look like a raid, like we're getting desperate and stupid. Send two groups, first one goes after anywhere that looks least guarded. Distract the lot of them. Meanwhile a smaller group slips in for the Hatching Sands."

It wasn't a perfect plan. Arkady's plans rarely were. He just sort of grabbed onto an idea with both hands and improvised with it until he came up with something he liked. "Our older green can between, right? I've only been on dragonback once or twice, so you with the yellow will have to correct me on this... But if I recall, between is sharding cold. Not a place you want to take a fragile egg that needs heat. So maybe while we're handling the egg transport, we could convince our green friend to snatch up a herdbeast or two from the feeding pens, make a show of it, vanish between again?"

[nozomi]

"Maybe we can feed them you." The rather mild voice came from the mouth of the cave, nasal and low, and one dark eye staring at Kuriel. The other had been removed, and covered by a lovely strip of cloth in temporary place of an eye patch. His eyebrow arched, and the briefest of a smile twitched over his lips. It disappeared as quickly as it came, earning himself and then Kuriel a curious look from Jessan. Machi ignored her, tipping his head lightly towards the psychopath in way of a greeting. And, then, as if to himself, a musing tone. "Causing a large distraction would mean they slaughter us. Dragons unable to hurt or no - the riders can."

Jessan frowned at him, delicate as her disapproval always was in public. "A hit and run would be best but, right. Loud may be... unfortunate. What's her name - the green, the - ah, Lillath?" She blinked and shrugged, once. "There are at least two dragons guarding the clutch, and my friends at the prison tell me even with reinforcements that the guard is stretched thing."

"Dark would be best." Again, quiet Machi, his eye trailing to Bellatrix. "Or dawn. Whers are easier to kill."

Jessan's lips twitched, and she glanced to Arkady. Yes. Sure. Of course they were easier to kill. Just ask the dude with the machete. "If she could snatch a few herdbeasts, it could cause enough of a distraction. I was thinking maybe drugging the two dragons with the clutch and their riders would be in order."

Quiet from Machi, expressionless mask once more in place. He crouched, ignoring the stab of pain from his bruised leg. He'd put up with a knife in his shoulder... Again. It took only a moment before he looked back to Kuriel. "Can she feel temperature through you? You can fit in those caves."

[Spiffy]

Bellatrix eyed Machi with a look of mild distaste. The man was even more mashed up than her and Bellatrisk. Even Bella found the extent of his injuries disturbing, not to mention... well, him being Machi. Every guard knew of Machi. She narrowed her eyes at him at the mention of killing whers. He had a point, especially considering that some of the dragons could fight back, though not all of them, and those that could were still young. Even so, she wouldn't mess with the yellow given the chance.

"We'll work out how to feed them, just as we'll work out how to feed ourselves." She herself was living largely off of the scraps of what her whers hunted, which was more than enough for the slight woman, but others were finding other ways. Kailin she knew was working on making a fishing net, and having limited success with it, muttering something about needing a boat. Bella didn't know where she was planning on getting one of those from, Faranth forbid.

"The green is the only one who's likely to get away alive. Anyone who goes with her is going to their deaths," she stated flatly. With the weight of the slighted Weyr coming down on their shoulders, between was the only refuge one could take, and only one of them could between. It was simple as. They'd just have to hope that one green could stir up enough trouble to distract the guards' attention long enough for them to get the eggs out.

Bellatrix though on Machi's final question, something just occurring to her. She wasn't quite sure if it'd work though, let alone if she could talk Bellatrisk into doing it.

"Where eggs have to be heated, right? Who's to say that the temperature's not the same?" she asked, though she didn't expect an answer. She jerked her head toward Bellask, not gold, but still a wher. "Bellatrisk may know what's right for them, though I doubt we'll have much success talking her into staying with them much." Bella had a suspicion that Bellatrisk would have to be talked into protecting her own clutch, let alone someone else's, from the attitude the gold had.

[Zen]

Rynn had silently stalked up to the meeting before it began. There was no use to throw in her good senses about anything at that time, though. No use at all, since she hadn't even been willing to leave. Her whers had forced her into going. While that was all fine and dandy, it still meant she had little to contribute to the whole ordeal.

Both of her whers were with her. Wenny stared deeply into the darkening night. His thoughts were a cluttering mess of everything and anything under the sun. Few of them seemed to even relate to the topics thrown out for conversation. Rysk was, for once, the more attentive of the two. She glared evenly at Bellatrix, her mouth open slightly as if she were getting ready to talk. Her short, muscular tail beat from side to side. Once in a while she nodded, though to what, Rynn didn't know.

Suddenly, Wenrynsk bolted back to the present and jumped to all four feet quickly. His tail lashed and he declared, Rynn-Mine, we must watch eggs. The force of the declaration startled Rynn into emitting a small squeak. Wenrynsk had never, ever, before been as stolid in an opinion as he had now.

"Wait, Bellatrix," Rynn said, her eyes focusing on the batty-haired lady. "If you can't get your gold to watch over them, I'm sure my whers will be more than happy to." She declared evenly, her voice not faltering. Wenny's mind was made up, and when Wenny made up his mind, Rysk would soon make her mind up in the same way. "Wenrynsk and Rysk are both kleptomaniacs; Wenny's already stated that he's missing his hoard of knickknacks that we left behind. He's also just informed me that he must watch the eggs. Wenny is greedy; he won't let anyone come near anything, but he's also a brilliant protector. And Rysk is a green. She has yet to lay her own eggs, but her mothering instinct could only be matched by a gold's. Perhaps it's because she's envious of other creatures and therefore dotes on what she has more. I don't care. If Bellatrisk doesn't see fit to watching the eggs, my whers could do it."

Rysk want eggs, more eggs than Wenny. Rysk told Rynn, therefore solidifying the thought process in Rynn's mind.

[lithle]

Myr had stood in the shadow of one of the huge trees, listening as the conversation went on around her. Roni was, as ever, at her side, tiny fingers intertwined with hers. The two looked surprisingly kempt considering the situation. Myr cleaned their clothing regularly in the hotsprings, saw to it that they stayed washed. She'd twined blue flowers through Roni's hair, made a garland for her neck.

The girl was decorated like a doll, her eyes, very dark and very sad, all that showed that she was human and hurting.

Myr wasn't liking this meeting. It was so disorderly. Everything here among the outlaws was disorderly.

She'd been a master vintner once. She knew about order. She knew about making things work. That wasn't to say she was a leader, she wasn't. But she appreciated leadership in others. And now people were vying for the right to watch the eggs. It made her uncomfortable. If it were her, she wouldn't share. No, letting any one person have control over the eggs would be very bad.

"Excuse me?" She had a low, soft speaking voice. "If you'll forgive me, we would do better to approach these problems in some sort of order. Before we plan how to steal them or who will watch them or what to feed them, perhaps we should know where to put them."

She wanted this to work, or she wouldn't have spoke. She loved little Roni, her precious, darling pet. But she wanted a dragon. She wanted one of those huge, lovely creatures. She wanted it tied to her, unable to escape. Hers forever, to love, to keep. Her own special thing.

"I suggest the hotsprings. It is warm in those caves. We could build a platform and cover it with sand. That is, if some would agree to build it. I know nothing of wood."

[twisting]

Most people would be disturbed if a one eyed serial killer suggesting they be fed to hatchlings. Kuriel just smiled sweetly, the picture of innocence, filthy innocence, safe on her living perch. The yellow arched her neck, drawing protectively close to the waifish young woman. Djith opened her mouth ever so slightly, letting her teeth glint in the dying light. Her swirling eyes remained calm and cool. It wasn't even Machi the yellow threatened, but the others, who may have mistaken the killers words for an open invitation on her rider's life. She knew threats would make no impression on that one.

The subtle warning faded and serenity once again fell over the weyrling. Neither Kuriel nor Djith were about to let a pack of whers mother those babies. No, those little ones were all theirs. "She can," she said in answer to Machi's question." But warm sands and mama whers will not change the fact that you can't raise those babies inside that cave. Flightless hatchlings and their riders will make lovely snacks for the wildlife." She stroked her dragon's smooth hide, a reminder that she spoke from experience. "Djith was threatened by a pack of wild whers hunting by the river last evening. If they are so bold as to threaten a dragon her size they will make short work of a babe. Young dragons spend much of their time sleeping, and they need somewhere safe to do that." Her words were delivered with a casual air, as though she could care less what the fate of the hatchlings was.

She did care though, she cared very much. Kuriel needed to get her dragon inside that cave. Djith needed to watch over her little ones.

[tuathade]

Arkady briefly met Machi’s eyes and snorted in disbelief. “Gonna have to disagree with you on that one. Slit a rider’s throat, their dragon is out of the picture. Try that shit with a handler, and the wher will hunt you down, rip your arm out of its socket, then probably eat you for good measure.”

More were joining in. Arguing, debating. Getting ahead of themselves – everyone wanted to be the one in charge of the eggs, it seemed. One big fat power struggle, and Arkady had no interest in putting himself in the middle of it. What did he know about the proper temperature for eggs? Still, someone had to guide them away from distraction. “Ladies,” he prompted gently, “the eggs will need constant watching. Hot springs is our best bet, we’ll sort out shifts once we have a plan to get them; everyone will get a chance to be mommy, so don’t get your knickers in a bunch.”

Quiet. Hah. A quiet raid on the hatching sands. Whershit. The idea of a few of the less useful outlaws getting sacrificed as a distraction just… didn’t bother him all that much. Thinning out the weaker of the herd meant a better group overall, and probably less food shortages later. Still, he kept that particular thought to himself, as he doubted the others would approve. Drugging, drugging the riders would be a good idea if they could wrangle it, but unless Jessan had a magical route to the Weyrwoman that Arkady didn’t know about, it would be a long shot indeed. “If you want quiet, don’t try to sneak onto hatching sands currently being guarded by a queen and her mate in the middle of a prison. The plan is risky as fuck no matter how we spin it, and like it or not, I doubt everyone’s going to make it back.”

The random sketching with the stick was neither random nor without purpose. It was a somewhat clumsy rendering, but the best he could do from memory and still reasonably accurate – there was a wavering line representing the distinctive shoreline of Warden’s, over here the winding river with a few boxes representing buildings, over there a line representing the area of clear-cut forest… Someone who knew the place a little better could doubtless correct any inaccuracies. "Do we have a way in? Preferably one that doesn't involve us being spotted from a mile off, even in the dark?"

[nozomi]

[Quick note: the information in this post has been admin-knowledge since the beginning of the game, I promise I'm not making it up on the fly, and, no, your kiddlets would not know most of this stuff. If you were unaware of it before, assume your char was as well.]

"Like I said. Drugging." Jessan hooked one of her ankles over the other, calm hands once more folding in front of herself. She'd reverted once more to the body language and tone of her Mindhealer self, skirting away from the previously snarky Jessan few of them knew. Her fingers even laced between themselves, that small smile on her lips. "You would be surprised what strings can be pulled when people tell you their deepest and darkest secrets, Arkady. They're on the beach, either way, and not in the direct line of the prison."

Including kitchen staff, which meant those to feed the Weyrwoman and Weyrleader. Funny how the 'normal' of the prison ended up with much more twisted lives then those of most prisoners. Crossdressing guards, kitchenstaff having been bribed by prisoners for favors, those that sympathized, wanted, or simply didn't know how to say no to a more dominant presence.

"In the meantime, he's correct. It's - oh, and look at that. An aerial view of the prison." Oh, did Arkady ever get an amused look at that particular display of early-conversation lies (not that she expected him to tell the truth, at least not then). "We have a squad or two of Wher patrol. Once I find out when they're on exclusive duty, that would be the night. It's the guards on foot we need to worry about. There-" Those ankles uncrossed, and Jessan pointed at one spot in particular on Arkady's impromptu map with the toe of her shoe. "On foot guards don't patrol there. Too dark to see without a lot of glows, and whers are much more convenient, if we need into the actual Weyr to pull this off."

"Packs." Machi pursed his lips, a brief flicker, his sole eye on the ground where Jessan's shoes pointed. "Ones with straps or something. Put an egg in there, over the shoulders. Run like hell. No betweening, and plenty of body heat." The killer hesitated before looking back up, eye going from one person to the next, even looking towards his sister. "If someone gets the materials, I can put them together."

[Spiffy]

Both Bellask and Bellatrix jumped slightly when Wenrynsk suddenly jumped up, the green where growling at him out of habit. Bella recovered quickly though, but was intrigued when the handler - Rynn or something? - called out her name. Ha, and told her to wait?Ohh that was brave, she thought, straightening as she waited to see what the other had to say. Not waiting cause she'd been told to, you understand, waiting because she wanted to see what Rynn had to say, yes.

She smiled as she heard. Ah, good; someone else willing to do the work. That was good, because she would rather prefer to have Bellatrisk with her that stuck in the caves - almost as much as she knew Bellatrisk would prefer not to be stuck in the caves.

"And you're more than welcome to the job!" she answered in an overly happy voice, spreading her hands wide before leaning back on her tree with a flump and all but ignoring Rynn.

Only to narrow her eyes at Kuriel as the yellowrider started talking. Too damn right whers were bold enough to attack a dragon. Shoddy guard creatures they'd make if they weren't! And it's not like the wild ones were to know that the yellow could fight back now, was it? Then Arkady spoke up. Bella, quite frankly, couldn't see the point in their arguing. The answer seemed pretty clear to her.

"I don't think anyone was suggesting that we teach them how to fly, Yellowrider. So how's about that these two-" she indicated the two whers by Rynn's side "-keep an eye out on the eggs, and when they hatch, you can take over! Sound fair?" she suggested, looking from one party to the other.

She blinked when Jessan mentioned having a wher patrol. What, under her control? How on Pern had she managed that? They'd all seemed fairly loyal to her, but then she wasn't exactly a shining star to be compared to now was she...

"Which squads?" she asked, suddenly serious. If she knew which squads the Mindhealer was talking about, maybe she could remember what their patrol times were. Unless Z had had the foresight to rearrange the timetables in response to the breakout and the joining thereof of the junior goldhandler (herself) who he'd conveniently entrusted with the timesheets several times so that he didn't have to deal with them. Oh dear Zalman, if only you knew what she'd be using that information for now.