Contemplation [Open]

[oki]

Fekarn watched the movement of the other prisoners within the mess hall, his eyes partially closed in contemplation as he searched the faces of the people as they walked past. He was trying to figure out who was missing from the general populace of the prison since the breakout, something that he hadn't participated in, and something that he hadn't planned on taking part in since he had decided that he wanted to make something of himself.

Sure it wouldn't be an easy, but he was determined to make an effort at improving himself and beating his addiction to dust. Right now his recovery was going pretty well all things considered, after all dust was horribly addictive and the withdrawals he was getting where plain horrific even a few years after giving up the substance. There where still some nights where he would wake up in the middle of the night with terrible cravings, and it took every scrap of mental strength to not seek someone out the next day and beg them to sneak in some dust for him. He wanted to stand as a candidate, and he had no doubt that getting caught with dust would ruin his chances so he kept his nose clean.

Closing his eyes a moment the apprentice leaned over the table, his eyes tracing the markings of the wood appreciatively. The quality wasn't the best, after all why would they shell out for comfort for a prisoner?, but the skill of the crafter whom made it was still pretty impressive. Fekarn wondered if another apprentice at the prison had made it, and if that was the case was that person still here? He longed to share tips with a fellow woodworker, but he hardly if ever talked with his fellow criminals in the prison. Tilting his head his gaze slipped past the table, through the crowd, and to the guards walking casually around the room. Patrols had increased since the breakout, as if the guards expected more trouble from the remaining prisoners.

Fekarn didn't think there would be any more trouble, the remaining prisoners seemed subdued from what he could see and more then a few nursed injuries from the breakout. No, there would be no trouble for quite some time and Fekarn hoped it stayed that way right up to and beyond the hatching of the eggs that he hoped to stand for.

[nozomi]

Patrols indeed increased when the prisoners escaped. M'onk came and despite the smiles and outward appearance, he managed to be a right Wher when it came to security and the tightening thereof. K'yne did not mind in the least; it meant plenty to do, and see, and better yet, the former WatchLeader had no qualms with him and his staying in the same squad.

Even when asked to cover an on-foot guard shift, he didn't grumble. It meant a twelve hour day before three of sleep and another shift in the air with Calith but - they were all tired. He felt it best to let A'tsu sleep alone, and have a shift, then tire out another, less capable man. The assignment sounded simply enough: work the messhall, look for trouble or silence or anything more than a bit suspicious. No problem.

He stalked around the perimeter of the large room, short and stocky frame moving in languid steps. He did not keep his hand at his baton or his knife, nor did he have to: K'yne figured it was common knowledge to not make the small ones irate. Especially not the ones with a permanently irritated expression.

A part of those orders came in the form of engaging the criminals sitting alone and too quietly, the few who looked as if they were thinking quite too much. Poor silent Fekarn fit that description, and that was when K'yne, in all his surly glory, moved away from the walls to descend upon the young man.

K'yne stood on the other side of the table, his hands clasped behind his back with his severe gaze trained on Fekarn.

"Good day, prisoner." K'yne said, with no outward indication that the day was indeed good. He pursed his lips in what could be distantly considered a smile. This prisoner could, after all, be a spy, and should be approached accordingly. "What are you thinking about?"

Mine, I love it when you are subtle and eloquent.

[oki]

Fekarn lifted his head as K'yne approached and greeted him. Something that instantly made him suspicious as the man didn't look friendly at all, that and he was on guard duty and the guards seemed overly eager in their duties of late. Leaning back in his chair the former thief looked at the green rider through partially narrowed eyes, giving away nothing of his internal thoughts to the dragonrider - after all one wrong move was sure to get him into trouble, something that he could ill afford at this moment. So he remained silent for a moment, studying the man whom as far as he could tell was in a particularly poor mood, of course, Fekarn could be wrong as he'd never been particularly good about reading the mood of other people. His pause also gave him time to think of a response, as he was sure saying 'oh I'm just seeing who is missing' would not be the brightest thing in the world to admit, guards always where good at twisting your words, and Fekarn didn't want to be associated with having a possible link with the outcasts.

After a few more moments the prisoner whetted his lips with the tip of his tongue, one hand moving over the table top as he spoke "I was just wondering whom made this table. The workmanship is exquisite given the poor tools we have to work with". His tone was smooth as he talked, his eyes giving away nothing, after all he wasn't officially lying about what he'd been thinking about. He really had been wondering as to whom had helped make the table, and of course the tools they had to work with where never the best and tended to be on the dull end ... you didn't give nice tools with sharp blades to felons after all. Relaxing back in his chair the teenager tensed the legs in his muscles, ready to react if the guard took the comment about the poor qualities wrongly. You never could tell what was going on in the minds of the guards, and that was especially so now that a good number of the prisoners had escaped. Paranoid didn't cover it at all! They had gone beyond paranoid and he wished there was a word that described the mind set of the guards currently.

Letting out a slow breath Fekarn looked around the room, his hand moving from the table to link casually behind his head with his other hand. Dark eyes remaining on K'yne "It's nice that we're allowed to pursue crafts even so, keeps our kinds occupied with the long days locked up in this place" did he go too far with that? It was hard to tell and he guessed that he would find out if he'd been a little too bold in his choice of words.

[nozomi]

He hated it when people returned his severe look with one of their own; in K'yne's mind, it meant they were as easily angered as himself, and without the steadying presence of one such as A'tsu. He, himself, lacked his partner that day, a fact that did nothing to hinder his hostility. Prisoners especially should not have that Look about them. As such, his frown deepened only the slightest, though the rest of him appeared unphased.

Mine, remember he is in a cage. Calith paused, and K'yne heard the amusement in her tone. And if you hurt him, you may be sent away. Greenriders did not garner the same respect as the Bronzeriders did - or brownriders.

That thought always made him a bit prickly. He loved Calith with all that as he could, as much - no, more - then he did his weyrmate. She always stood as the brightest star in his sky, shining more then the sun, with A'tsu as the moon. Not everyone saw her that way, or thought more past 'green'.

A'tsu never thought of him as less of a leader for his girl. Only others. Years later, he still remembered those Looks he started getting once she cracked from her shell, pale and rainbow-eyed.

K'yne would receive no tolerance for snapping at prisoners, no matter how much he wanted to.

"As far as I am aware, prisoners did not craft the tables. The Halls sent Journeymen, and Apprentices." He remembered that, a vague tug at his memory. They'd tempted a few with them, dangled a brief 'maybe' for others. K'yne and A'tsu stayed put, until the breakout. Along with Beastcrafters and the sort."

Why was the man still staring at him like that. Canines would take such a thing as a threat. Whers, something he'd been accused of being several times, they would have lashed out by then. "Perhaps if one did not pursue illegal activities, being locked up wouldn't be such a chore." When had he become so talkative. When.

[oki]

So prisoners hadn't crafted the desk after all, how very interesting. That meant that the table was poor quality because the weyr didn't want to spend money on getting good quality goods for prisoners like him. Leaning back in his chair he kept his eyes on k'yne as the man told him that people shouldn't pursue a life of crime if being locked up was a chore. The sentence even made the prisoner chuckle a little "A bit late for that isn't it, kinda like closing the barn door after the runner beasts have bolted" the husky tone of his voice filled the room as he talked, his eyes partially closing as he relaxed in his chair. The sense of paranoia faded away to the back of his mind, and in it's place a sense of enjoyment took root. Sure he was talking to a man that obviously didn't like him, but the conversation was better then what he got with the rest of the prisoners, and well Fekarn was the kind of guy that loved to play with fire.

Right now that fire was K'yne, and Fekarn was enjoying the thrill he felt by talking with the man. Running his right hand casually through his hair the prisoner talked once again "Besides you can't always avoid a life of crime, a guy has to feed his family after all" His hand dropped once he was sure that his hair looked acceptable, and he gave the guard a wink of his eye. Fekarn wondered if the guard knew that such a thing was a lie, that he had resorted to a life of crime for no other reason then because he had enjoyed it, but then he realized that he didn't care. Let the guard judge him if he liked, the guard would leave him be at some point and with any luck he'd never see the man again. What did it matter if K'yne thought that he was a bad person for lying about his life? His comment was true enough for many people in the prison, and he'd heard it enough to use it as an excuse for his own behavior.

Behavior that had landed him in this place, and in this place he was likely to remain. He didn't think that he'd leave without impressing to a dragon, and if he didn't impress? Well then he wasn't sure what would happen then, and it wasn't worth considering especially when he was already getting on the older end of the age scale for candidacy. Letting out a breath he leaned forward to let all four legs of the chair where on the ground once again, and he turned his head to watch as another guard walked on their route around the mess hall.

[nozomi]

So maybe the conversation didn't go as he planned. In all honesty, K'yne didn't ever contemplate how conversations would go; most of his chatting with A'tsu happened with no words involved, glances and touches and the odd things that had more then a few people asking him over the years if they were 'okay'. Of course they were okay. Long story short - K'yne did not talk to people outside of A'tsu or his squadmebers, often. Especially not with prisoners.

Definately not with prisoners that winked at him. Did Fekarn just wink at him? The words, and the wink took a second to sink into his sometimes thick skull, because winking had never been something - would never be something - that K'yne was used to. When he realized just what Fekarn did and said, his eyebrows pressed together and lips pulled into an even tighter frown.

Ooooh. Mine, are you being flirted with? I like it when you're flirted with! No. Stop it. Tell him he's pretty. I want to see his face when you tell him he's pretty.

That will never happen.

"I'm sure that's exactly what you were doing when commiting crime." K'yne ignored his dragons disappointment with him not complimenting the odd prisoner, cold eyes raking over the boys face before looking back to the other prisoners. There were many of them. Too many of them. It made him uncomfortable, in a quiet, deep seeded way. Dusters, thieves, murderers. His skin crawled. The feeling never lingered, disappeared even as soon as he busied himself with other duties, but the fact that feeling was there to begin with... It disturbed him. "Are you Standing, Prisoner?"