Looking for Group [Wanna-be Squadleaders]

[nozomi]

A week after the breakout and three days after the arrival, someone attempted to scrub the doorway clean from blood. The stone had managed to keep some of it still, the gruesome blossom of Warden remaining as a testimony to the violence that occurred just a sevenday beforehand. M'onk asked they try again, and soon, but had little hope; his predecessor would survive in memory forever in that small area just outside of the door. He redecorated the room at the very least, attempting to keep Warden at bay when others visited - it may be too harsh for the loved ones of the man to enter.

(Had he known Warden at all, M'onk would have known that Warden had no loved ones, outside of the dead firelizard and dragon, but that was another matter entirely.)

The rough wooden desk had been replaced by something polished, larger, a deep red in color with a matching chair. Glows lit up every corner of the room, windows wide open and some decoration here or there that Natai picked out. Warden had it simplistic, bare. M'onk disliked it. He changed it.

A sevenday later, and M'onk needed a squadleader for the two new ones in Warden's Weyr. The invitation had been exxtended to all within the squads, although he suspected more than a few riders from the Weyr would be joining. He settled himself in the chair easily enough, eyes on the window in a rare contemplative frown. His tunic, black with a gold trim, felt odd after being able to wear his own clothing for the last few turns.

"Natai." She poked her head into the room, eyes wide with question. M'onk grinned at her, crooked and wide per usual, somber mask gone to his typical cheer. "Let them in once they arrive, will you?"

"Of course." She waved one dainty hand to him, and withdrew through the door. Anyone to enter would be met with a polite, small smile and greeting, and the young woman pushing open the door.

Time to get to business.

[Lesa]

He didn't really want to do this. No, he didn't want to do this very much at all. But Ordith was pushing him, and Amisi was encouraging him (but she was his daughter, and still at the stage when she would think the world of him - for the most part). He didn't have the age many of those in his squad did. Sure, he had a bronze, but a dragon was a dragon was a dragon. How much did that really matter in the end? Still, he would go, regardless of what happened in the Overseer's office. Who knows, H'lack or A'tsu or K'yne could be in there, or come after him and ask to take over. He'd probably let them.

Two of the three were older than he was, and even H'lack was good and steady and dependable and would make a good Squadleader. What had entered his mind (beyond his stubborn, stubborn bronze) to tell him he could actually be Squadleader? It felt like half the time he was still running around after Amisi, and he worried for her doubly here (though he had heard there was a Teaching Harper here, perhaps he could get someone who could finally make those lessons stick, sharditall). There was much more danger here than at Fort - clearly, as they wouldn't have been sent here if there hadn't been a breakout and deaths a week before. He'd tried to leave her behind, he'd tried to convince her. But no, she was willing to give up her chance of Impression at Fort and all of her friends and come with him, nearly as a stowaway (that is, if anyone could stow away on a dragon).

Certainly she had the chance of Impression here, but still - he'd heard that any who Impressed here (no matter if one of the usual colors or those ones that had everyone in such a tizzy) would never be allowed to transfer out. He didn't want this life for his Amisi, he didn't want her trapped at a prison for the rest of her life just because she Impressed. The stone walls bore mute testament to the deaths, splashed here and there with blood. She was thirteen, she had her whole life ahead of her! So what if she found her life-partner here, having one's lifepartner would make life better and whole, yes, but not happy, not completely, if one wasn't happy with their circumstances.

D'ji ran a hand through his curls before roughly tying them up at the nape of his neck. It didn't matter, did it, in the end? He was here, he was going to talk to the Overseer - the man had children, grandchildren. Even if he didn't get Squadleader, certainly the man had advice on how to deal with children. He looked at the girl standing in front of the door, summoning up a smile that was nearly completely genuine.

"D'ji of bronze Ordith, here to see the Overseer, miss."

[firebird]

Dusky found herself at the Overseer's office almost by accident. Sure, she had interest in becoming a squadleader. Why wouldn't she? Would not a bluerider and female in a position of leadership be unusual enough for a reason? However, she had more interest in mapping out the Weyr in the hopes of finding abandoned nooks and passages. She knew very well that any shortcuts would have long since become commonly used, so she was seeking out long winding tunnels instead. Anything so little used as to be unknown to most people would have been perfect.

Unfortunately, it had become quite clear that there were no such secret passages waiting for her. Warden's Weyr, it seemed, was far too new for anything to be long forgotten. It wasn't as if people designed Weyrs with hidden tunnels in mind, after all. Maybe if it were thirty turns old instead of three, Dusky would have had better luck.

So when her search brought her near the Overseer's office, Dusky decided to call off her mission and report in. She wasn't surprised to see another rider in ahead of her. What was his name again? Whatever. It was only to be expected that other riders would be interested in the squadleader position.

"Hey," she said in greeting as she positioned herself so she could face both the other dragonrider and the girl at the door (why didn't she remember her name, either? Argh...). "I'm Dusky of blue Suzelaloth, and I guess I'll be in after him." The last was punctuated with a nod in D'ji's direction.

[giftwrapped]

So the Overseer wanted to see them and discuss Squad leadership. Eleven of them had come to Warden's that past sevenday, and they'd been sorted into two squads - a squad of five and a squad of six. Privately, Sa'nil thought that perhaps one of the riders ought to be sent into one of the squads damaged by the loss of usable dragons (a bronze had been half-blinded, Faranth help them all, and a green had been lost between in the same accident that took the bronze's eye). But it was not his place to make decisions like that, and so he had remained - as he always was - mute about the issue.

That was a terrible pun, and anyway, if you were squadleader, you could make that decision yourself.

I don't want to go.

You need to go. It is your responsibility as a bronzerider to go.

I'm not a bronzerider anymore. Not the way the Watch wants them.

Wherryshit. You're every bit the bronzerider you've always been.

It's...not that easy, Zenoth.

Rheth says G'rus is going.

Now you're just using peer pressure.

Whatever lights a fire under that ass of yours, Sa'nil.

And so it was with Zenoth's urging in his mind that Sa'nil reluctantly slipped into the building and headed for what he vaguely remembered was the door to the office. Slipping inside, he was unsurprised to see D'ji, the other bronzerider who had come from the mainland to Warden's with them. No, the surprising party was Dusky, a bluerider in the same squad as him, who was...well, he hadn't expected her to show up. Call him old-fashioned, but a blue squadleader...was no more ridiculous than anything else, he reminded himself.

He offered a polite smile and bow as he entered the room, both to the honorable former Watch wingleader behind the desk and the pleasant young woman greeting them. His attention, however, was fixed on Dusky, keeping an eye on her lips and waiting for her piece, whatever it was, to be said. She finished her speaking quickly enough, and for a moment Sa'nil looked at Natai, horrified. Faranth, Zenoth, I didn't bring any paper! he shot to the dragon, staring wide-eyed at the young woman in tense, awkward silence.

Then make yourself understood! Zenoth answered, fatherly cheer in his voice. Sa'nil swallowed hard for a moment. He was panicking. He didn't need to panic.

Then, slowly, he straightened up a bit, raising his hands. Making very deliberate eye contact with the young woman who had greeted him, he pointed to his ears, making a quick slash of the hand that was quickly recognizable as a signal for 'no,' and then covered his mouth. If nothing else, he hoped he'd be able to indicate to her his status as both deaf and unspeaking. Faranth, this was hard when it was with strangers. He'd have to be doing it constantly for quite a while. What a terrible wingleader he'd make.

Just talk to her!

The hands moved from in front of his face to loosely centered on his solar plexus, and then deliberately, Sa'nil signed properly to Natai.

'rider S-A-N-I-L - bronze Z-E-N-O-T-H - deaf - read lips!'

It was easier to finger-spell names at the outset than use a name-sign. No use confusing someone who probably didn't understand signing to begin with, and if she did, probably very little. If she spoke it, all the better. If not...he glanced to M'onk's desk, seeking a piece of parchment, or some other small implement on which to write. Faranth, why hadn't he come better prepared? He should have thought this out better! Here he was making a mess of things already.

[tuathade]

For what felt like the fourth or fifth time, G'rus paced the unfamiliar quarters assigned to him, going over rehearsed phrases in his head. The Overseer had called a meeting of the former Watch newly transferred to Warden's Weyr, to discuss squad leadership. G'rus knew some of his new squadmates, but others he had yet to talk with much, apart from the perfunctory interaction they'd had during the process of transferring weyrs. Faranth knew, Warden's could use the backup after what had just happened. Rheth was calm as ever, dozing comfortably in his new shelter, but G'rus was raring to go. It would be important to make a good first impression on the Overseer-

Whershit, G'rus. Rheth cracked open one eye lazily, just long enough to regard his rider with an incredulous stare, then closed it again. You don't want to be leader any more than I do.

If they need me...

Put on a poker face for other people, G'rus, but you don't have to hide it from me. You're only going to make sure Sa'nil is all right. That sliver of blue-green eye vanished, once again hidden under closed eyelids. Rheth was napping, and he would not be disturbed.

Some of the tension ebbed out of the brownrider. It was true. G'rus didn't particularly want to be leader. It was a fairly transparent excuse to come along to the meeting. Still, it would be exciting to meet M'onk, who was pretty much a sharding legend among the Watch. And it would give him an idea of who the new squadleader was likely to be, at least by observing who did come along. ...and, of course, Rheth was right, as always. Most importantly, it was because he felt like it was his place to go. Needed to make sure there was someone in the room who understood Pernese sign language, after all, even if G'rus still signed with all the finesse of a drunk wher.

(Part of him, a treacherous unpleasant part, didn't particularly want his friend to be squadleader either. Not because he didn't think the bronzerider could do it - Sa'nil certainly could - but because he couldn't quite escape the memory of a certain Watch wingleader, of what had happened to her... No. That had been a different situation, another time and place. It wouldn't happen again. Not even if dragons had already died in the breakout. G'rus wouldn't let it happen again.)

It wasn't all that hard to navigate to the Warden's office - well, Overseer's office now. Strange to think, with the place still called Warden's Weyr, that there was no Warden. He recognized D'ji, who'd seemed like a reliable sort, and Dusky, who hadn't - and there was Sa'nil. Thus far, they were the first four to arrive.

He greeted Natai with a polite nod and a friendly smile, but most of his attention was reserved for the Watch founder at the desk. G'rus stepped up next to Sa'nil, scarred brownrider standing next to scarred bronzerider. His hands moved through the familiar signs, flashing a quick 'hello - good luck!' Of course, saying it out loud would have worked just as well, with Sa'nil's lip-reading skill... but signing it would serve the dual purpose of both reassuring Sa'nil and indicating to the others that yes, he could serve as interpreter as necessary. Then he turned to bow to M'onk. "G'rus of brown Rheth, sir. My friend here is Sa'nil of bronze Zenoth. It's an honor."

[maggie]

H'lak slunk in quietly as usual, although he did give M'onk a respectful nod. "H'lak or brown Drydenth," he said, his voice a soft base, although there was a little grind to it that betrayed how little he used it. "It is an honour to meet you, bron-- overseer." H'lak had never before really sought a position of authority, but the title of squad leader had been appealing. The fact that Drydenth had not shut up once about it since hearing the announcement might also have weighed in his decision to apply for the position. He knew he had the necessary skills, except maybe people skills, but Drydenth had enough of those for the both of them.

Speaking of the brown and his people skills... Miiiine, you're going to be working with these riders and maybe even we will lead them! You should at least say hello to everyone. And find out how many greens are in our squad. I like greens, mine! You should make friends with their riders. You should make lots of friends. Friends are good." Drydenth was very happy with his move to Warden's Weyr, but he was getting restless, since his rider wasn't socialising and he didn't really know any of the other dragons. The brown paused in his tirade, thinking. I send you Lavina. She will help you make friends.[/color] H'lak winced. The obnoxious little green was not someone he wanted to present to his new squad right away. In fact, presenting either of his, or more like Drydenth's, flitts was not high on his priority list. He had heard rumours that there were flitts here less agreeable than his, but he still was a little embarrassed by their behaviour.

The little green flitt popped out from between with a girlish trill. She looked around, then huffed. There weren't any manly dragons or flitts about. Despite the number of men in the room, there wasn't any quite as manly as she usually liked. With a little huff, she went to land on H'lak's shoulder. She cooed at him happily, starting to nip at his hair, putting it back in order. H'lak sighed. "I apologise for her," he muttered, embarrassed.

[nozomi]

Oh, no! People were being all - all formal. Natai's smile wavered a bit with the first two, her eyes darting from one to the other before she cleared her throat in a rather close mimicry of her grandfather's likewise habit. One small hand fluttered to her throat, and the quiet girl managed a smile.

"Oh, no, it's quite alright - Grandfather would like everyone to be in there at once to discuss things. It's a pleasure to meet you both." She pushed the door open, waving them upset just as S'anil came up. with his signing. Natai blinked at the man for a moment, her head cocked and lips pursed in confusion. She did not know sign language.

'No hearing' was simple enough - universal slashing by the ears. Right.

"Grandfather knows some signs," She said finally, and smiled! She liked to smile and poor Sa'nil tried so hard. "But I don't. I'm sorry. I'll --" Then, G'rus. A very, very tall G'rus. Natai blinked up at him, her eyebrows high, and that meat her chin had to go baaack and back. "--Learn."

They both received a bright smile and a gesture inside, Natai shrinking back against the door to look over to H'lak, fingers rising in a greeting gesture.

M'onk allowed his little granddaughter her time to wave and attempt to be social (it didn't work). He stood once the the riders entered, hands on the desk. The overseer nodded at them, head tilting to the side with that cheerful smile.

"Thank you all for coming to this meeting. I realize transferring here may not have been the first choice of some of you - a prison is not exactly an ideal place to be a squadleader at." He shrugged his rickety shoulders. "So, I thank you. It's nice to meet everyone - I am M'onk, and I ride Mihkath."

A nod to H'lak - "And flits are welcome here. Now, as for business, we have two squads, and no squad leaders. I'm not opposed to switching squads around to situate everyone. All of you have been brought here as a part of the 'random' squads. This is Warden's Weyr, and theorhetically color does not matter. So. Who here has been a squadleader or second?"

[giftwrapped]

What's going on now?

G'rus is here. He came late! You lied to me, you know.

Well, whoops! I lied. ...Are you angry?

I could never be angry with you, Zenoth.

Good!

The woman's expression of bewilderment when Sa'nil spoke to her didn't go unnoticed, and the young rider watched her and read lips even as he chatted mentally with Zenoth. At this point it required far less concentration than it had when he first started to learn three turns ago, but nonetheless he couldn't take his eyes off Natai as she spoke - and nor could he ignore M'onk, when the man stood. The gaze from those periwinkle eyes was sharp, and Sa'nil was vaguely aware that it was the type that could very likely make someone uncomfortable. Though he doubted M'onk would be at all intimidated by Sa'nil.

Surreptitiously, without looking at G'rus, he nudged the brownrider slightly and signed a quick 'Dusky here why?' before bowing to M'onk. The man had asked a question that Sa'nil didn't particularly fancy answering, and for a moment, the bronzerider dithered. He had experience. He had a good deal of it for a rider his age and in his condition, three turns as a wingsecond, and that mission in command of his own small squad...Faranth, but that was something he wasn't at all interested in discussing. And yet, M'onk had asked, and he was both one of the greatest wingleaders the Watch had seen and the Overseer of Warden's Weyr.

Slowly, hesitantly, he glanced over at G'rus and tugged the man's sleeve again. 'writing stuff want - mine forgot' he signed quickly, then approached the desk and reached out, laying a hand on one of the hides on the desk. He preferred paper, most of the time - quicker and easier to write on - but whatever M'onk would give him, Sa'nil would accept. Making eye contact with the rider that was much less intense than the one with which he had been watching speakers, he mimed writing and gave the brightest smile he could.

"Please?" he rasped softly, a barely-audible whisper, the word made unpleasant by the grimace of pain on his face. Speaking wasn't entirely impossible for the rider, but vocal cords damaged in the explosion left little in the way of volume, and pain was an inevitable fact of his situation.

[tuathade]

G’rus could practically hear the crickets chirping after M’onk asked his perfectly reasonable question. No one speaking up? No one at all – well, except Sa’nil, but Sa’nil was not speaking up for obvious reasons.

He shifted a little, then shook his head. “No, sir.” Simple enough answer for a complicated question. There had been times when he… Well, when he’d thought that maybe he was good enough to make ‘second. Considered stepping up, putting himself forward to the squadleader and seeing if she agreed. But the mission had always come before his personal agenda. And then post-successful-mission celebration, and then the mission after that, and – it had never seemed like the right time. Always another day, right up until the point when suddenly there weren’t any more days left. After that his record only got spottier. Little chance of him making anything, now.

Sa’nil nudged him, signing the same question that G’rus had been asking himself. G’rus waited until the deaf rider was looking at him again, then shrugged noncommittally. Dusky he knew, they were in the same squad. The others – H’lak of Drydenth, and D’ji of Ordith. A brownrider and a bronzerider. G’rus didn’t stand by the Watch’s policy of “only bronzeriders in charge” to the exclusion of all other colors, but even with that in mind, G’rus wouldn’t be surprised if it was the two bronzeriders who got the position this time anyway. M’onk was the founder of the Watch, after all, and an older bronzerider himself.

His friend signed again, and – shards, Sa’nil, of all the days to forget that. Hearing the scarred young man forced to speak aloud was never pleasant. It was a painful reminder of the days when they’d both been in recovery at Fort, both badly injured and struggling to make themselves understood. G’rus had recovered, more or less. Sa’nil had it harder. Shells, if it had been anyone but M’onk, G’rus would have just grabbed a hide off the desk himself and forget about asking permission.

Stay where you are, soldier, Rheth intervened. Quit being a mama flit for once and let him fly on his own wings.

G’rus shoved the dragon back out of his head with a mix of fond exasperation… but Rheth’s advice was pretty much always good. This was a test. He had to stay where he was and let it play out without any interference.

[firebird]

Dusky gave a cheerful wave to everyone else who appeared. Shards and shells, there were a lot of them, though. Apparently the Squadleader position was pretty popular. Dusky was finding it hard to keep an eye on all four of the riders at once, so it was a little annoying. The bronzeriders would probably get the job, in any case. Bronzeriders always had priority.

Dusky followed the other riders in when the door was opened. Though she stayed near the back of the room -why bother vying for the front?- she did edge around so that she could still see the new Overseer through the gaps between people. Being short was truly a curse.

Dusky, they won't stab you in the back. Go introduce yourself to M'onk, Suzelaloth told her. Really, that distrust of hers was going too far. It would be good for her to make herself known!

Only if he talks to me first. I don't have any leadership experience to tell him, anyway, she replied as she watched Sa'nil approach the Overseer. He seemed sensible enough to her.

[maggie]

H'lak shook his head, scratching Lavina's eyeridges to keep her quiet. He had never formally been in charge of a squad. He had occasionally, for a Dust bust or other such punctual activities, but he had never truly led a squad, so he didn't think it was pertinent.

"Mine likes to be quiet, but he has led before. Not a squad, but busts and little things,[/color] Drydenth told Mihkath. "He does not think it is pertinent, but I do. I suspect that more than just him have had these punctual assignments, but yours would know this because yours founded the watch and is cool and has done things like this and commanded and...[/color] Drydenth decided shutting up was probably the best option, at this point.

[nozomi]

Oh, look! They talked. For a long moment there, M'onk thought he'd have to start making snarky, out of character remarks in order to get the little fledgelings to say absolutely anything. What was the point of leading if one wasn't comfortable speaking up? Granted, not many of them spoke up, but at least the crippled one - the bronzerider, at that, moved in and spoke first. M'onk appreciated that, and he smiled to Sa'nil. He took a moment to take some parchment from a drawer of his desk, easier to write with, and all that, before handing it to Sa'nil, followed by the nearest writing implement on hand.

"Young man," M'onk said, his voice low, soft enough so only he and Sa'nil were a part of the near-silent conversation. "I walk with a cane because it pains me otherwise. Don't feel you need to speak to get what you need. We'll discuss this later, shall we?"

Interesting how an old man with a smile could make the request not so much a request.

"So glad to see some of you are coming forth!" M'onk stepped back with Sa'nil newly equipped with communication. The Overseer beamed at the group, eyes crinkling until they damn well disappeared. "Well. Not all of you. Two of you, which is rather disappointing. What sort of Squadleader wouldn't even say 'no' when asked a yes or no question? Come now. You, there, with the firelizard - at least you nodded."

M'onk's eyes narrowed in on Dusky, and one craggly eyebrow rose up high on his head. "You, young lady. Why are you skulking behind them all? Come forward, now. I promise I'm not the beast rumors make me out to be."

He lies. Mihkath rumbled the words to everyone in the room. Mine is a horrible liar, and regularly comes with me to the Bowl to eat his fill in terrified wherrie.

It probably said bad things about M'onk when he started to laugh with his dragons blasted words. He finished with a cough, grin widening on his lips. A murmur from Mihkath, just for him, and M'onk flicked his fingers towards H'lak. "H'lak, is it? My loudmouthed partner has said that you've done a few things in the past. Right! Feel free, any of you, to talk my ear off. I'm not a fan of silence, and I'm not a fan of it after I've asked a question.

"So, with that on your minds, for those of you who haven't led a squad, you are pretty much at the whims of your squad. It isn't all you order and they follow. People, being people, will argue, and rebel, and how you handle that is up to each individual squad leader. Like I said - I enjoy people talking at me, and about themselves, and this being what it is, interesting outcomes sprout from less than normal circumstances. What I would like to do is place those more willing to think outside the box and communicate. And none of this color business. The prison preached color equality while V'tya ran it, and I daresay there would be a riot amongst his more loyal ranks if I dared change it. You've all worked with at least one other person in this room before, haven't you?"

[maggie]

((Jumping queue on posting because I leave Sunday night and therefore this might be my last post in this thread for a while ;.)

H'lak smirked. Drydenth, who was shamelessly eavesdropping, continued his good-nautred conversation with Mihkath, not at all inclined to silence like his rider was. "H'lak-mine says that he likes being par-- parci-- pari---"[/color] the brown tripped over the long word, parsimonious, that his rider had used. H'lak liked using long words because Drydenth liked trying to show off with them later. This usually failed. Mine does not like to talk when he thinks that chattering is unnecessary. He likes to listen to people and know everything before he talks. I think he's afraid of looking stupid, but that's stupid. We all have to look stupid sometimes, and if we can't laugh at ourselves, who will?[/color]

H'lak very reluctantly spoke at that last question. "I have not, overseer," he admitted. "Save for perhaps a chance shift watching work groups together since we came here. Our Weyr-hold was very small, few leave it." He didn't elaborate on whether or not his decision was forced, the phrase coming out in a neutral, gravelly tone.