Let's Kill Them With Sound [Machi/Jiru/Dragunz]

[nozomi]

Jessan couldn't fix Rhinth.

Machi thought nothing about his girl to be wrong, no, she was his perfect, delicate creature, decorative and loving, and everything soft and tender under that hate he craved from the females in his life. She adored, doted, she required only for him to love her - but even that didn't stop her from being sick, able to only a little before the energy required faded and left her a shivering mass against his chest. Being pressed against bare skin had not helped the shivering any, not even nearly a week after the hatching.

His sister looked to the dragonet a few days, and finally shook her head. She didn't know dragons, she said, and had tried what she'd known to work with humans. But his Jessan, she treated minds, she did not take care of bodies. Machi never figured out how she'd mustered enough knowledge to save Arkady - he'd have just pulled the bolt up and taped it shut, unknowing of what to do with the fever and near-infection and everything else she did for the man that meant nothing. He knew how she was with men; they were tools, pets, and she stayed with them only long enough to get whatever it was she wanted.

She liked this one. It irked him.

Regardless, she softly suggested Jiruyno. He was no dragonhealer, but more equipped to heal then she would be. 'Suck it up, Machi,' she'd said. 'He's a weyrling now, like you, and can't touch you for at least a turn'.

So he sucked it up.

Rhinth gleamed with the fat he'd managed to procure from one of those fat rat creatures that ran around. Well - threatened from another prisoner with a flat stare, a dragon tucked into his shirt with cracking skin, and a knife in his hand. The outlaw could find another female to start a fat-rat creature colony with, Machi didn't give a single flying frag about it as long as he could soothe what pain of hers he could. He had some on his hip as well, in a small skin that once was used to hold water. It would need to be melted, and would stink like disgusting if the skin were to be uncorked, but that meant little when it came to her comfort.

He went to Jiruyno's cave. Machi did not quite enjoy knowing where the healer's personal little niche in the cave system lie, but decided it best to know and not be surprised. In this situation, it... comforted him, somewhat. He knew where the sharding healer stayed, and could stalk him if his shivering girl became more ill.

His cave is not as nice as ours, Mine. Look at that disfigured opening. Machi saw nothing wrong with the entrance to Jiru's cave, but if Rhinth said it so, well, why not. He put his free hand on the solid rock, voice low. He did not know if Jiru were there or not, but best to announce himself before taking anyone by surprise - dragon included.

"Healer." And then he stepped into the entryway.

[giftwrapped]

Jiruyno had never been interested in animals. From his entry into Healer Hall until his arrest and imprisonment, animals had been one of two things: test subjects, or food. He had eaten the ones that were delicious, tested the ones that were small and easy to subject to chemicals, and ignored the ones that hadn't been available for either of those uses. Of course, once upon a time, he had Impressed Trinket and Pet, but they hadn't been animals, in the same sense as the kittens and other animals he had tested drugs on. They had been entirely different, more like tools than animals.

And Moneth was another thing entirely. The sudden feeling of another creature in his head, sharing his thoughts, filing through his memories, had not been easy to get used to. Jiru had been told, once upon a time, that Impression was like finding the second half of yourself. If that was the case, than Jiru's second half was certainly an interesting sort. More than once, he had awoken from his occasional naps to a whirling yellow stare inches from his nose and a low hiss of I'm hungry.

It was taking a lot of getting used to.

But it was coming along slowly, and Jiruyno was seated quietly tailor-style in his cave, examining the flesh of a few native fruits in an attempt to find one that could be boiled for easy oil. It had been long turns since he had hatched the two firelizards, but he remembered the specifics of the care of dragonkin vividly. At the moment, there was little oil. He had a bit himself, stolen from the Weyr's infirmary and guarded carefully against other outlaws, but he was already beginning to run out. And Moneth was itching. He could only assume that the smaller dragons would be bursting up in growth even more quickly.

Animal fat would do for a time, but he would have killed for a more proper tallow. Or vegetable fat. Faranth, he would need to take Moneth gathering some time in the future, looking for other fatty plants. They would find ways to fix the shortage, or the dragons would die. And death was not an option.

It would make eating easier, Moneth remarked idly, shifting from her place in the cave entrance to fix Jiruyno with a sliver of blue-green eye whirling through a cracked lid. She was not sleeping, but resting as her rider wracked his brains, occasionally monitoring his thought processes to see if he was performing to her specifications. For now, she would tolerate his frustrations. But there would be less time for that in the future, when they squeezed the greenrider for all the knowledge she would divulge. Jiru spared the dragon a humourless laugh.

"Maybe."

And he went back to work in silence, not looking up again until the yellow jerked her head up and gave a low, throaty snarl. Someone is here, she snapped, opening her eyes that whirled with yellow-orange warning. Jiru lifted his head, looking to the cave entrance even as his dragon hissed again. Rhinth and her murderer, Moneth rumbled, ignoring the pleasure in her rider's mind at the fact that Machi had sought him out.

Before Jiru could say anything, Machi's voice rang out, and Jiru rose to his feet with the grace of a feline, moving to the dragon's side and resting a hand between her eyeridges. "Easy, my darling," he murmured, fixing Machi with an expression that was even more neutral than his usual blithe ones - forced blank to prevent the obvious pleasure from reaching his face. Nonetheless, his voice when he spoke in response to Machi's greeting was light and pleasant - and obviously happy to see the one-eyed man. "Purplerider Machi and Rhinth," he answered softly.

"What can I do for you?" he asked.

Under his hand, he could feel Moneth rumbling in a near-silent growl. His grip on her neckridges tightened; a warning.

[nozomi]

Moneth! Rhinth covered her disgust for the duo in front of her as surely as Jiruyno disguised his happiness at seeing Machi. She crooned to her sibling, ignoring any of that nasty-tempered yellows growling that may have been heard over Jiruyno's warning hand. If Machi did not hear it, well, then Rhinth did not bother to acknowledge the fact Moneth probably growled anyway. What a darling little cave you have. It's so very quaint.

Machi learned young to leave himself out of women's catty conversations. Getting in the middle of two females when they were being sharp-tongued would end badly for all parties that were not those two females. So he ignored Rhinth and her words, stroked his hand down one side of her tiny, shivering body. It took a long moment for him to answer Jiruyno, single remaining eye studying the Healer with a curious amount of detachment.

Jiru couldn't touch him. Not for a Turn. Moneth would between. That, at least, made the roiling suspicion fade to a dull roar, easily hidden under the steel wall of 'I don't give a flying wherrie', the flat emotionless mask of Machi. There was no hate there, though, no disgust. Not yet.

"Rhinth is sick." He said finally. His fingers curled around the delicate curve of Rhinth's neck, fingertips then running down the ridges of her back. "Jessan can't help her." Machi paused, single eye hooding. The murderer looked to the yellow at long last, jaw twitching before he glanced back up to Jiru, gaze trailing up the Healer's arm to his face. "She said to go to you."

[giftwrapped]

For an animal that had no visible pupil nor any real method of moving those glimmering, multifaceted eyes, Jiruyno was always impressed by how obvious and unimpressed Moneth could make her deadpan stare. Rhinth's words went straight through the yellow, who fixed her purple clutchsister with a long, hard expression of utmost disdain before answering. Kind of you to take an interest in little things, Rhinth. It certainly makes sense - like attracts like, after all, little sister. There was no express emphasis on the word 'little' when the yellow spoke it; Moneth didn't think it was necessary to sneer the way Rhinth did. And anyway, it took too much effort.

Through her line to Jiru, she expressed the briefest burst of smugness. But then it was gone and she set about cleaning her claws.

If you left her to die we could smoke the carcass and you could have a lovely new belt, she remarked privately to Jiru, who took a sudden, sharp breath to stifle a laugh at the unexpected comment from his dragon. To his benefit, he never once lost composure, simply slapping Moneth on the neck in a gesture that appeared largely friendly as he sent a mental note of warning. Machi had brought Rhinth to him - to him - for a reason, and Jiruyno would not let petty sibling rivalry detract from this.

Sick, he said. Sickness indeed. Jiru had done his best to get his hands on the carcass of the stillbirth silver after the Hatching, but Jessan had been adamant that the creature be cremated, and he had been in no mood to argue with her pet psychopath (he had once respected Jessan, but her attachment to Arkady was leading the Healer to doubt some of his counterpart's judgment). He wondered idly if he should approach Jessan now and point out to her how much easier it would have been for him to learn this impromptu dragonhealing if he had been given access to something that showed him the creature's internal makeup.

Perhaps he would bring it up to her when next he saw her privately.

For now, though, he stepped forward, reaching out, hands ghosting just shy of touching the purple. He would not touch without permission, and there was a tenseness in his bearing that indicated readiness - should Rhinth snap, he would be out of range quickly. Moneth had expressed no qualms about harming humans even after Impression, and if this was the case with all the mutant spawn that opal had produced... "Sick how?" he asked, all Healer's manners and polite tones as he looked over the tiny creature.

[nozomi]

Rhinth remained quiet with Moneth's little onslaught of insults on her vertical handicap. She leaned ever closer to her rider, shivering still against him, small head tucked in close. Machi continued to stroke her as he had been, fingers brushing along over her eyeridges to elicit a small churr from the dragonet. Neither one of them looked away from their opponent, though Machi's topic of choice seemed to be openly less hostile then that of the two small dragons with them. When Jiru moved closer, Machi tucked a hand under the curve of her dainty jaw, a brief brush of warning and a mental murmur of he is the only healer we have.

She did not snap, did not even flinch away from that touch. Oh, she worried, a little, just to Machi with that shiver of anxiety. Jiru could hurt her, hurt Hers, although nothing in his words or stance indicated he'd do such a horrible thing.

She will mock me if you tell him, Machi-Precious. A hiss of disgust, just for Machi, it had his hands tightening on her. The little dragon squeaked, quieting only when Machi relaxed his grip.

He ground his teeth together. Admitting his Rhinth had even a smidge of something not perfect with her killed. Not with anguish, but pride. She was perfect, beautiful, lovely even though she was small. But she was - temporarily - weak. Just temporarily. Jiru may be able to help her.

"She has a fever, and cannot eat much. Not because of her size, or age. Rhinth is not very strong yet but I think that's more from everything else, not her being weak." And if any sort of disagreement came from Jiru about Rhinth one day being strong? He'd get a glare. Patented, flat out, I-Will-Murder-You-Motherfucker glare. Only if, though. Machi pursed his lips in a brief flash of concern before his expression flicked back to it's usual flat Nothing look. "I need her well."

I will be well, Dearest. They are not quite so fine a rider as you Private words, and he cuddled her, however briefly, for them. Then, Machi looked down at his girl. "Can you do anything?"

[giftwrapped]

There was no violent response to his grazing hands, and Jiru slowly let his fingers fall to rest on the purple dragonet, checking pulse in the throat and tilting the head up to peer into her eyes. He didn't know what he was supposed to see; dragons lacked pupils in the conventional sense...ah, he didn't know what he was doing, and he was so ill-equipped to make these attempts. But he tried nonetheless, gently pressing at the hinge of her jaw to coax her to open her mouth, though never speaking to the dragonet. It was not his dragon, and thus it was an animal, a tool, an object of manipulation on someone else's person.

He would check her teeth, look at her flesh, see if the gums were pale or flushed with the ichor they should have been. He sighed quietly, prodding into Moneth's mind and looking for any knowledge of her own anatomy that the yellow might have. She looked at him, cocking her head to one side in confusion, eyes whirling with a flicker of yellow. I don't know how it works, she answered sharply, a shrug to her voice. I just know it does. But you can fix her, if you wish.

She was disgusted, but the impression she left in her rider's mind was that if he decided to fix Rhinth, he would need to bloody well do it right or the dragon would have his head. He sighed quietly then, shaking his head and dropping his hands, turning away and going looking for the bag of healer supplies he had been changing and augmenting since he arrived at the camp. There were things missing now, things he had run out of. But there were new things, plants and crushed insects and other chemicals he had been working on, attempting to discover their accurate uses. There was little he could do for Rhinth with what he had.

"Blood," he said after a moment, with a note of finality. "If she won't eat, then blood." He paused and sighed quietly. "Would that we had herdbeasts; cream would likely be best for her. High in calories, rich in fats...but blood will do." He shrugged and wrinkled his nose a bit, shaking his head and keeping from sighing in defeat. He was frustrated, yes, but he would do what he could. "As for the fever..." Again, the shrug. "She needs water. Hydration. Blood will help with that, but water too."

"Cool water may help with the fever. On the wing membranes, if possible. But be careful not to overcool her," he added, voice still blithe. He wasn't certain that what he was prescribing was correct. Dragons were not human. Feverfew or willowsalic could just as well be poisonous to the creature as it could help. Faranth, he knew so little of their internal makeup, and his flits were so long gone. He had not thought to test them at the time. He could only suggest, and hope.

"Beyond that..." another slight shrug.

[nozomi]

For once, Machi did not tense up when Jiru got close. He knew just how near the Healer was to his person, and the thought unnerved him something fierce, but he had a Rhinth in his arms and she required all of his attention. Machi going on the defensive would only serve to upset her, and she did not need more of that. Despite everything going on between himself and the Healer (or not going on, depending on who you maybe talked to), his next look up to Jiru did not feature a scowl or expressionless death stare.

It happened to be a rare emotion from Machi labelled 'surprise'. The briefest of quirks at his eyebrow, the edges of his eyes widening a fraction, a tightening of his mouth when he realized the Healer had a point. Blood. Blood for Rhinth, nothing hard for her to digest, just... good things. Even the dragon managed to pause her hate for Jiruyno and his dragon within her mind for that split second.

His fingers are not as comforting as yours, Mine. She muttered to Machi, words venomous but less requiring of violence. For now. The purple allowed Jiruyno and his touch, his disgusting closeness to the rider that so obviously disliked him. Her tiny wings flexed against her back, quieted into submission still by the tender strokes of Machi. The Healer stood so very near to them that both rider and dragon felt his bodyheat, could nearly detect the air ripple from Jiru's sigh. Nng.

"Blood. Like a wher." Still flat, monotone, but he looked down to Rhinth with contemplation. She cocked her head away from Jiru and against Machi, eyes closed. Jiru once more, and his head tilted ever so gently to the side. "Alright. Blood, then."

Should he thank Jiru? Jessan would say yes. Machi chose not to move, eyes narrowed to study the Healer. Machi half-hoped that not stepping away immediately would be seen as a sort of concession that Machi did not think him a moron. Something like that. After a moment, though, he shifted his weight back, chin once more up.

"I will do that, then." Another step back, a straightening of his shoulders, as Machi tried to figure out how to leave without making it look as if he was fleeing. A face-down with Jiru would end up in the man touching his face again, he felt sure of it. His eye had healed. No more face-touching.

[giftwrapped]

"Don't -"

And for a moment, Jiru paused. Don't what? Don't go? No, that wasn't it. He would never ask something like that of another man. There was no weakness, no begging someone to stay. But for an instant, he had....considered it. But no, that wasn't what the 'don't' was for, and he had cut himself off before something stupid could leave his lips. The pause lasted no more than a breath, and then Jiruyno was back to his regular composure, expression mild, eyes blank but for the slightest flicker of - what? Amusement? Interest?

Something.

"Don't ignore meat," he added. "Feed what she can take. Cook it a bit if you need to. Blood is calories, but it is not nutrients." Easy enough for anyone to understand; there was a reason golds were encouraged to blood their kills only, but dragons as a whole ate the entire organism. So few species were designed to live off just the red stuff - or the green stuff, he supposed. Was ichor as nutritious? Would it be better that the purple be fed off it? "Ichor," he said, thinking aloud more than speaking directly to Machi, "might prove better than blood - if you can get it."

But that would not be so easy. Dragonkin were not precisely easy-to-find wild, and while the odd firelizard nest showed up, it was not worth the effort to hatch them when eggs could be cooked instead. "Flit eggs, maybe" he remarked, spurred by the line of thought. There would be protein, there. Protein and substance easier to digest than meat, as distasteful as the idea of half-formed embryos might be. "Perhaps it would be in our interest to acquire females and farm them," he said, still thinking aloud, before glancing up to Machi, the ghost of a half-smile on his face.

"Perhaps there are ways to keep them well and raise them healthy, after all," he remarked, and for once, that blithe tone had just the slightest note of pleasure, of satisfaction.

There we are. You're using that brain of yours. Finally, Moneth remarked softly, though the tone was nearly affectionate as she bumped her muzzle against Jiru's hip.

[nozomi]

No matter what Jiru meant by the half-uttered not-request of 'Don't-', Machi stopped in his very slow fleeing from the couch. Rhinth's eyes flashed a murderous red for a split second before settling into the blue-greens of her rider holding her close and being warm, away from the prying hands of the Healer. Jiru talked to himself, and Rhinth hissed mentally. Machi's gaze did not waver from Jiru as she whispered into his mind.

Moneth's thinks he's such a darling little thing. His brain is not nearly as sharp as yours, precious.[/i] Her small head turned to Moneth, the much larger, ridiculously healthy Moneth. Oh, to keep Hers from that one... Mine would be ever so pleased if yours was right, Moneth, dear. Can't judge a book by it's cover, with ideas and all.

Sweet as pie, innocent little Rhinth. She ever crooned, quiet and low, and Machi's twitch of the lips responded to the brief noise of curious pleasure.

"Didn't you have the only green firelizard around during the Hatching." Not a question, and maybe there happened to be something almost amusement littering Machi and his tone. He remembered Kitty, dangling uselessly in Jiruyno's hand. He couldn't bring up the image of Moneth eating the pathetic creature, distracted by moving bodies, then Beoth, then Rhinth. But she'd been there, and green, and female. Hells, even Machi's right eyebrow moved upwards briefly. And why yes, Jiru, Machi did keep a sharding eye on you while you stood much too close to others with that sharp little doctor beast of yours. Then, contemplatively, eyes sliding down to Moneth with eyes starting to hood. "Perhaps Jessan and her-" His lips twitched, disapproving. "-He can go hunting for them. There have been hunting parties before."

Maybe Arkady would be eaten by a rampaging wher. It'd be appreciated - the wher would be treated as a king! Before they ate it, at least. Machi cuddled Rhinth close, a joke of Jiru and impulse control twisting in his mind but - no. He'd never appreciated talking, and especially not with the Healer. Machi shrugged, one shoulder, the good shoulder.

She trembled in his arms, small and cold, finally deciding to rest her cheek against his chest. The pair of them watched Jiru and his yellow before Machi mentally sighed and asked the question that had burned through his brain since the hatching (if he were honest, since Jiru poured the fucking redwort in his eye): "How does one make soap?"