|
|
Post by Spiffy on Jun 17, 2011 5:00:45 GMT -5
The healers had reluctantly let J'thir go that morning, with a stern warning not to overexert himself, or for that matter, not to exert himself at all. Someone said they'd track down Tironan, the guard who was no longer assigned to him, should Golith need oiling. But that would wait, Golly was perfectly capable of looking after himself for a few hours while J'thir attended to something that was, just then, far more important: food.
He'd been all too keen to get out of the infirmery for that reason alone, adament that thin gruel was in no way 'nourishing' and that the healers could go tag a wher if they tried again to convince him of that instead of accepting that their damn food was inadequate to proper healing, let alone disgusting.
Mind you, the food from the mess hall was hardly any better. He was still often dealt with the prisoner slop, rather than the slightly-better-than-that slop that the guards and riders and whatnot got, his yellow shirt giving away his previous position in the Weyr. He wondered if he'd be able to get rid of the damn thing when he graduated and jo8ined the guard ranks, if they'd let him. With Warden now gone, nothing in his future was certain anymore, and he wouldn't trust the new overseer as far as he could throw the man.
But despite that, he'd managed to weedle some half decent roots out of one of the cooks, making a rather pathetic display of his bandaged wound until she took pity on him. He still had no idea what was in the meat though, and doubted that he wanted to.
But he was starving, and so without further ado he found himself a seat and set to, shovelling the 'food' into his mouth as fast as he could, ignoring the spasms of pain that his complaining midriff was sending him.
|
|
|
|
Post by nozomi on Jun 18, 2011 22:59:00 GMT -5
Until that very morning, T'di kept to himself and his little personal weyr, hidden away in his blankets and with Mordanth's comforting mental murmurs for safety. The breakout had hurt him somehow. Others had been beaten, or killed, or otherwise traumatized. He hadn't even been to see Leshta yet, something completely out of the ordinary for him. T'di loved her, as much as any friend could, and hell - he sent Mordanth after Semith only because he didn't want her sad! But this time... Mordanth finally forced him out. He threatened to stop eating properly as well, and told T'di that being selfish helped no one. T'di went to get food. He would take Mordanth to the 'bowl later.
And on leaving with the food, he saw just across the mess hall - J'thir. Oh, you didn't forget the man you made out with during Flightlust (though T'di sometimes did - Mordanth liked a good chase), but he especially did not have the ability to banish the thoughts of the man that he'd stabbed. Stabbed. T'di didn't stab people! He ran. He glared, and then he ran. He didn't stab.
Yeah, that was totally his mindset when he put his plate of food down across from J'thir. He bluerider stared down at the older man, his eyebrows knotted up together. At least this second time around, he had no hint of being near to tears, or even upset shock. Simple confusion. A blessing, maybe. Something.
"Hi." T'di, eloquent and smooth with the men, stood there, staring at J'thir, his fingers brushing the edges of his own plate. "You're out."
|
|
|
|
Post by Spiffy on Jun 19, 2011 13:16:55 GMT -5
J'thir didn't look up immediately as a plate was set down opposite him, focussing on his own meal before that of anyone else. Unlike in the prison mess hall, he didn't have to be so hyperaware of who was around him, though he would still normally have looked up. He was just to focussed on his food just then, malnourished as he was, no thanks to the healers.
When a voice from above his head said Hi, however, he looked up, still chewing. If he'd been the type to blanch, he would have. But he wasn't, so his face settled for a scowl instead, a look that plainly said 'oh Faranth not you'. He didn't want to see T'di. Apart from the guy having stabbed him (which coming from an outlaw camp he could forgive the guy for), he'd... he didn't even want to think about it. Disgusting. Horrid. Unthinkable. He'd almost... fuck, he'd wanted it, that was the worst of it.
He shuffled himself and his plate down the table a few seats, until further passage was blocked by the presence of a guard tucking into his own meal. He gave J'thir a brief unimpressed look, then turned his attention back to his own meal.
"Yeah. No thanks to you," he muttered, though loud enough for T'di to hear clearly enough.
|
|
|
|
Post by nozomi on Jun 19, 2011 13:53:22 GMT -5
Annnnd there is was. That scowl. Not all men liked men (or T'di, or both), and when blues caught male greens... Not everyone ended up pleased. Not everyone had partners to cling to instead of the winners of the Flight. T'di knew that too. He'd been on the receiving end of more then one of those sharding half-snarling scowls. At least J'thir had an extra reason, other then kissing - T'di had stabbed him after all.
He didn't squirm with the scowl, or the muttered, sharp words. He did look away, though, a quick flicker of eyes to the side, and then back to J'thir. T'di shrugged, his lips pursed into a tight little line. "You were coming at me," he said in lieu of an apology. "And when people are jumpy from FlightLust with a knife in their hands, did you really expect anything different? At least it wasn't in the chest. I'm high enough to reach."
Maybe. Probably. J'thir could've picked a worse guy to make out with: short with no real fighting experience, panicking in the depths of Flightlust. T'di always got jumpy during Flights, nervous, paranoid about hurting someone else.
Like J'thir.
At least he hadn't stabbed him in the chest.
T'di didn't sit down. He just shrugged again, furrowed eyebrows going down to his plate. "I am sorry, for what it's worth. Didn't think you'd want me saying it while you were in the infirmary."
|
|
|
|
Post by Spiffy on Jun 21, 2011 14:03:19 GMT -5
He was glad when he sad T'di look away for a moment, that self satisfied feeling that you get when you've gotten to someone whom you don't like for whatever reason. And then he stared speaking again. Shells, so he hadn't got rid of him yet.
No need to point that out, he thought, i know that too bloody well. No, he didn't expect any different. What he did expect was a sightly better aim on T'di's part, but he was still thankful that that particular expectation hadn't held true, or he'd likely as not still be in the infirmary. Or dead.
He gave the bluerider a slightly disbelieving look at the comment about being able to reach his chest. Uhh, maybe if you stretch.
And if T'di thought he was short on confidence during a flight, well, J'thir had no experience of flights whatsoever. This was not a good introduction to them.
Then he apologised. About bloody time.
"Or were you just too out of you mind with lust-" he had to keep himself from shivering on that word "-to think of that at the time?"
He ignored the response, ignored T'di for a while, turning his full attention back to the plate. Then when T'di still hadn't gone away, he grunted "You gonna sit down or stand there looking like a dusted wherry all day?"
|
|
