Horrible taste (Ink)

[S'yal]

Has it been confirmed that F'ox will eat anything shoved at him yet?

No?

Let's make sure you don't forget it.

One of the cooks for the Weyr was not skilled by any means. Rather, the poor thing always burned what they were cooking and made it nearly unrecognizable. Most, for this reason, decided to avoid this cook. However, the man had found someone that would always eat his food.

That happened to be F'ox. He seemed to think the bad cooking was the best food he'd ever eaten... probably because it was. They fed him in the brothel, but it was food to keep him looking nice, not food that tasted good. Thus, the skinny greenrider would eat pretty much anything given to him. That happened to be, at the moment, what appeared to be some form of meat and horribly, horribly burned bread.

It looked likely to come alive at any minute.

F'ox had claimed one of the few empty tables, and was currently sitting there hunched over his food and trying to gulp it down as quickly as possible. Snowth was resting with her head beside the table, her eyes whirling a serene green as she dozed. Crypt and Rage, meanwhile, had stolen meat and were fighting over it.

Rage glared at her bronze 'sibling', hissing and screaming at the top of her lungs. FUUUU- THAT WAS HER MEAT.

[Inkwell]

It wasn't often that Orren saw someone out and about that he didn't recognize, at least on some level. He had been here for three turns, after all; one would think he would have all of the Weyr faces memorized by now. But this was one he didn't recognize: A slip of a young man, hunched over his food (perhaps that was why Orren didn't have his face down yet, he could barely see it in the first place), dragon dozing next to him and firelizards having what appeared to be a very heated argument next to him.

Now, Orren didn't like to see people sitting alone at the best of times, and this young man fairly radiated a sense of loneliness and apprehension. And that just would not do-- especially when Orren was on his own break for food and therefore had no excuse not to sit down and perhaps provide some company, which was exactly what he did.

For a few minutes he merely sat in silence, eating at a far more leisurely pace than F'ox and observing him occasionally out of the corner of his eye. However, it quickly became apparent that he'd likely have to make the first move and so he chewed, swallowed, and said in what he hoped was a friendly and non-threatening voice:

"Your dragon is absolutely gorgeous. I don't think I've seen such a lustrous green in here in quite a long time." And he meant it, really. Despite Snowth's mauling and her small size as a green, she was more than impressive enough for Orren, who usually didn't see the dragons this close-up.

[S'yal]

F'ox jumped in his seat as he was joined, strictly avoid looking at his new tablemate. Don't make eye contact, F'ox. They can't see you if you can't see them! That was pretty much the only thing that was running through the albinos mind as he ducked his head, aware of Snowth's rumbling laugh in the back of his head, the soft amusement that accompanied her reassuring touch. She wanted him to warm up to others, but F'ox was sure that he was going to die if he ever talked to anyone. He was going to die and be dead. Well, maybe if it wasn't another rider...

He jumped again when he was spoken to, white eyes darting to Orren. F'ox's face turned bright red, a jerking nod given towards the words. "Y... yes... she's very pretty..." He muttered timidly, trying his best to smile at Orren. He'd complimented Snowth, so surely he couldn't be that bad. Anyone who liked Snowth had to be a good person- Snowth was beautiful and perfect and amazing! "... Her name is Snowth..." He offered shyly.

Snowth, for her part, was shocked. Her wings flared for a moment, her eyes turning a vibrant blue with trails of yellow going through it- her own version of blushing. Snowth was more willing to talk to humans then most dragons, F'ox having impressed upon that that it was polite to spak to people. Thank you. You look very nice for a human. Snowth's voice was filled with amusement and she nudged F'ox's back.

Introduce yourself as well, dear.

"... I'm F'ox... I'm... a weyrling..." He was waiting for the person to realize he was wearing yellow and leave, be disgusted by him. It happened often- he was a prisoner still, even if he had a dragon. It was something he'd realized a while ago. But that was alright. Snowth was worth it.

Meanwhile, Rage had wrestled the food away from Crypt and had fled to F'ox's head, gulping it down there. He ignored that there was a hatchling firelizard clambering around on his head, acting as if this was an everyday thing. Crypt, for his part, creeled until F'ox gave him a bit of meat.

[Inkwell]

Oddly enough, Orren didn't even seem to glance at the color that F'ox was wearing. His brown eyes stayed firmly on F'ox's face, and the open, friendly expression stayed firmly on his own. Clearly this man was either terribly unobservant or merely didn't care about rank. He did pause to turn to Snowth when he was addressed, however -- how often did a member of the kitchen staff get spoken to personally by a dragon, after all?

"Nice for a human, hm? You're too kind, really." Really. He was by no means a traditionally handsome man, and he knew it -- but then, was Snowth a traditionally beautiful dragon? He had never understood the tendency for only Golds and Bronzes to be regarded as truly 'beautiful'. These were dragons, for goodness sake: every hide was beautiful. Just look at those spots on her shoulders, after all, or the yellow tinge to her head-knobs! No, she was just as beautiful as any Gold he'd ever seen, scar or no.

"And a pleasure to meet you, F'ox. It's strange that I haven't before. There are very few people in this Weyr I can say with certainty that I've never interacted with." It was then that he caught sight of what F'ox was eating, and his bushy eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. "Shells and shards, what is that on your plate? You know, I try to teach the other cooks how to make proper food, and all they ever manage is... that." He huffed and pushed his own plate towards F'ox; this food was made by him and therefore not only actually edible, but definitely not drugged -- he'd just been eating it, after all. "There. You look as though you could use some actual food. Leave the rest of that to your 'lizards, I'm sure they'll enjoy it more."

Just you try and argue, F'ox. Just. You. Try.

[S'yal]

It was nice to have someone not look at the bright yellow he wore... but his face being looked at didn't make F'ox feel much better. Well, honestly, he didn't like being looked at period. It was good he'd impressed a dragon that could keep him safe- though F'ox had the esteemed position of being the first prisoner to ever Impress.

What a lovely position to have.

Not necessarily kind, just telling the truth.[/b] Snowth hummed. It was true, at least. She found all humans beautiful, in their own strange way. They were put together so bizarrely, with their fingers and long, uneven limbs. But they were beautiful in the things they could do. They could make the most lovely music, with those clever long fingers of theirs. Their hair was so strange, as well! Snowth chirped a bit of encouragement to F'ox as Orren spoke to him.

"I... I'm not very social..." F'ox muttered, his face graced with a pink blush. That was one of the many downsides to being albino- no chance of covering up a blush ever. "... Food?" F'ox had to wonder why people were always taking his food from him. So far H'und and this person had done it... was it really that bad? "A-ah... it's fine..." He made a half hearted grab for his own plate, but Crypt had already pounced upon it, followed quickly by Rage.

"Um... I... I don't want to take your food... that would be rude..." He eyed the food with outright fear. What if he took it, and this person expected him to pay them back later? He didn't want that. He was supposed to be free now. He looked to Snowth for help, the dragon merely sending him a comforting thought.

F'ox is trying to argue. Just not very well.

[Inkwell]

"You aren't taking it if I offered it first," Orren pointed out. "I work in the kitchens, I can eat whenever I have a spare moment. You, however, are a weyrling, and I bet that means you're on a busy schedule, and not only that, that you need proper food to keep you going." His tone softened slightly: the poor young man seemed so nervous. "Go on, take it. I don't expect anything in return."

Was that what F'ox was worried about? This being held over his head as a favor? Was he worried about being a prisoner weyrling, already on thin ice and then also having to worry about debts to lowly kitchen workers just because he was on thin ice and couldn't afford to get into any trouble? Ridiculous. He had Impressed, hadn't he, and that meant he had to have more than a shred of good in him, Orren was sure of it. Especially if he'd managed to Impress a dragon as sweet and polite as Snowth seemed to be.

The best course of action seemed to be to change the subject, before F'ox could attempt to argue any more. Not that Orren wasn't sure he would win, but that he didn't want to get into an argument at all over something so trivial and perhaps scare F'ox off.

"I'm thinking of trying out as a candidate when the next clutch gets close to hatching," he said, his tone low, as though he was telling F'ox a very important secret. "But I confess, even after three turns here, I'm not sure I can do it. Any tips?"

Come on, F'ox. Come out of your shell. You can do it, he thought, mentally willing the young man to do just that. Despite his prisoner's garb and despite his quiet nature, Orren was sure there was a friendly young man down deep under that protective layering that just wanted a bit of company. He'd find that young man and drag him out into the open with good conversation and food if it was the last thing he did. That was his job in life, after all: to help. To make people happy and comfortable, whether with his food or with his presence. Here, he could do both.

[S'yal]

He has a point, darling. No one will hurt you. Snowth nuzzled F'ox's back, a green and blue eye staying focused on Orren. He seemed nice enough, and Snowth wasn't as anxious as her rider. Perhaps at birth, but she'd begun to grow into her own and gain a bit of confidence. She was still a quiet dragon, but she felt no need to fear a cook. He was being kind to F'ox, wasn't he?

"I... um..." F'ox's will to argue wilted, his protests having been weak in the first lace. He took the food slowly, eyeing Orren as if afraid the cook would change his mind and snatch the food back. That'd be bad. Of course, after the first bite he naturally reacted with shock. "It's good!" His voice came out more excited that he meant it to be, and an embarrassed blush covered his face. "I... I mean... thanks..." F'ox looked down at the table, nearly missing what Orren said next.

He was going to stand? For dragons? F'ox shuddered at the thought of Snowth's hatching, eyes trailing to the large scar that covered her shoulder. Or the thought of Ever's fingers lying in the sand. Or that little blue, who'd announced he'd found His... and then disappeared forever. "If a dragon charges at you, run away. A girl lost her fingers on the sands because she didn't move." F'ox muttered after a moment, reaching out to stroke Snowth's broad head. "Don't get in the way of any dragonets, and don't go near them unless they call out to you."

"Snowth called out to me. She got hurt..." He hesitated. "But, I was the first to Impress; I don't know how I did it." Snowth crooned, rubbing her head against F'ox in encouragement. His voice was slow and halting, as if he wasn't sure what he was saying. "Just remember that if you're not on the sands, they can't find you. So you have to stay, no matter how scary it gets." He bit his lip, remembering when Invidith attacked Snowth. Why had she done that? What had Snowth done to deserve that?

Rage, meanwhile, had started wrestling Crypt for the bad meat.

[Inkwell]

Orren had to cover his mouth to stifle a laugh at F'ox's outburst about the food. He had a feeling that the poor thing would feel he was being laughed at, and that wouldn't do. Orren was more simply happy to see a bit of actual enthusiasm from him, and hey, it was nice to have one's work complimented. "You're welcome, really."

He listened intently to F'ox's halting instructions, and at the mention of the loss of fingers -- he'd heard about that, at least, news of maulings got around fairly quickly -- he looked down at his own long hands and wiggled his own fingers experimentally.

"I... kind of need these," he said dubiously, thick eyebrows drawn down over his eyes. And then a thought occurred to him and he was smiling all over again. "Do you think they're more likely to go after me just because I probably smell like food anyway? Don't dragons come out of their eggs hungry?" He'd heard that a few times, and to him, it made perfect sense: being in an enclosed little space for so many sevendays, in the hot sands, would probably work up an appetite in anyone, and Hatching seemed like it would take a lot of energy as well. Dragon eggs were by no means easy to crack. "Faranth, I'll probably be eaten!" He quieted when he realized that F'ox would probably take him seriously, though, and continued to listen to what the young man was saying.

"So, move if a dragonet starts coming towards me, but don't go too far off the sands, or else they won't be able to find me at all." He nodded, obviously actually taking F'ox's words to heart -- even if F'ox didn't know how he'd done it, he'd done it, right? "I think I can manage that. So... what does it feel like? Being Bonded? I've heard it's the best feeling in the world."

[S'yal]

Luckily, F'ox wasn't looking at Orren when he laughed. A shy smile managed to work it's way onto F'ox's face, the weyrling looking up at Orren. "Thank you." He mumbled, his face flaming before he quickly looked back to the food. He really had no table manners at all, did he? Not that he could be blamed- he'd hardly been taught not to shovel food into his mouth like a half starved Wher.

"Does't everyone?" F'ox muttered, shivering at the thought of losing his fingers. He wouldn't be able to oil Snowth if that happened, or make his riding straps... or really do anything. Fingers are good. "Not unless you smell like meat." F'ox fell quiet and chewed thoughtfully, obviously putting a good deal of thought into this question. "I don't think so. Usually they're more occupied with finding their match then eating." Invidith had been an exception, with her mauling of candidates. "I hope you don't get eaten. You're nice." He offered shyly, a questioning note to his voice. That was a good thing to say, right?

"Yeah!" His exuberance for the subject showed, F'ox nodding. The next question made him hesitate though, thoughtful gaze going to Snowth. "Like... being alive. Like your entire life was spent asleep, and suddenly you're awake and you can see how beautiful everything is..." He smiled, his eyes alight with love for his green. She was everything to him- Beautiful, wonderful, the light in the darkness. "But... it's probably different for everyone..."

As if you were only half, and suddenly you're complete. Snowth chimed in, remembering the awful lonely feeling she'd felt before Impressing. Did all humans feel that way without dragons or whers? The horrible emptiness? She didn't understand how they managed to survive like that.

[Inkwell]

The good thing was, Orren didn't really have many table manners either. He'd grown up eating in the kitchen in between helping his parents cook for whatever guests happened to be passing through, so he understood very well the instinct to just shovel down what you could in whatever time you had.

"I hope you don't get eaten. You're nice."

Now, how often did a member of the kitchen staff hear that from a weyrling? "Hah, well. I'll do my best. I mean, if I even manage to Impress, I'm sure the dragonet will be more interested in whatever actual food is on-hand than my... well... my hand." He hoped. "You'd think dragons would only eat the mean candidates anyway." Alright, that may have been a bit off-color. He was sure the poor girl who'd lost her fingers was very nice and hadn't deserved it at all.

He listened with rapt attention as F'ox and Snowth explained, or at least tried to explain, the feeling of being Bonded. Even with F'ox's pauses, it sounded just about as beautiful as Orren had been lead to believe. He'd never felt really... lonely, or empty, or like something was missing in his life, but the hopeless romantic in him certainly had something to say on the matter of being whole in a way it was unlikely he'd never experience with a woman. You couldn't really share thoughts with a lover; being able to do so with a friend who happened to be a Dragon sounded downright amazing. Besides, a lady, however beautiful and talented and sweet, couldn't breathe fire.

Well, if he was lucky, he would be able to Impress and he'd meet a beautiful, talented, sweet lady who could. You never knew, after all.

"That sounds... amazing. Even if it's different for everyone. I suppose it has to do with the disposition of the human and the personality of the dragon and... and lots of things." He paused. "Is it often that people don't Impress at all? I mean, I've heard of people standing turn after turn and never meeting Theirs. Or dragonets that can't and just sort of... blink between." Of course, he'd never been between, but he'd heard people talk about it and he simply couldn't imagine wanting to be there for any longer than he absolutely had to. He knew a dragonet from Semith's last clutch had betweened -- a blue, if he remembered correctly. How depressing that had to be, to step out into the world and be met with only emptiness and the assurance that the person who was meant for you wasn't there.

[S'yal]

F'ox was obviously relieved as he was informed that Orren wasn't going to try to get eaten. Good, good. He didn't like people being eaten. "They have meat." He chimed in 'helpfully', being the helpful little guy he was. F'ox glanced at Orren's hand, then at Snowth's shoulder. "Some of the dragons are mean, though. Like Invidith." He said freely, ignoring Snowth's sigh. She was trying to encourage him to forgive the dark green, but it wasn't like that would happen anytime soon. His first meeting with Snowth had been ruined by that green, and Snowth had hurt so much...

"It is amazing." F'ox nodded fiercely, before pausing to push some hair out of his face. "I don't know how the others feel. But it was the best thing i've ever felt." The question made him frown, and he shrugged. "I mean... in your case.. you can Impress even if you age out... the whers, I mean. But I've never met someone who never Impressed. I've been t-told it happens." His voice quavered, the thought of having never impressed Snowth distressing him.

"The blue who Betweened Impressed. He told us so. I think he went to go find his rider!" F'ox was obviously sticking to that ideal, his voice full of childish excitement. "He told us all. He had rainbows in his eyes. Dragons get rainbows in their eyes when they Impress." Of course the little blue had Impressed. Why would he said he had if he'd never Impressed? Maybe he'd just Betweened to some hold or something to be with his.

"I'm sure you'll find your dragon... you're so nice, you have to find them." He smiled shyly, trying to be reassuring.

[Inkwell]

"Well, I suppose it'd make sense that some of the dragons are mean," Orren conceded. "I mean, they're just like humans -- all special and different. So you've got to expect that some are going to be bad-tempered, just like some people are. And I bet they make perfect matches, too." After all, even bad-tempered people had friends. Deserved friends. If prisoners could Impress despite whatever crimes they had committed, then surely there really was a dragon for everyone.

Orren considered what F'ox had mentioned about the Whers. It was true -- he was only three turns off from not being eligible, after all. But a Wher was really nothing but a smaller dragon, weren't they? You could still bond to one, you could still feel the same sense of closeness. Really, the only difference was that you couldn't ride them, and in the grand scheme of things that wasn't essential. If His turned out to be a Wher, he wouldn't be disappointed at all.

"You think he found his rider, then? I mean, if he did get the rainbows in his eyes, he must have." Of course, you'd think there would have been some sort of outcry if a random Blue had just blinked into existence somewhere and Impressed. An outcry that would have gotten back to Warden's, once people put the obvious two and two together. But Orren didn't really have the heart to point out any flaws in F'ox's reasoning, and anyway, stranger things had happened. "Well. I hope he's happy, wherever he went."

"I'm sure you'll find your dragon... you're so nice, you have to find them."

"Well, I can only hope," Orren said, rubbing the back of his neck in a slightly embarrassed manner. It was nice to have the confidence of a weyrling behind him. "I mean, I'm just a cook. I haven't even really learned a Craft in a proper Hall or anything. And given my age, I'm probably not the most qualified of candidates... but if you think I can do it, I bet I'll manage."

He turned to Snowth, flashing the dragon a hopeful sort of grin. "What do you think, pretty lady? Will one of your little siblings like me?"

[S'yal]

"I wish they weren't." F'ox muttered, looking at his nails. He used to trust dragons unquestionably, as they'd ever hurt him before. He knew they couldn't, that no dragon could lift a claw against him. But it wasn't him he feared for. They could hurt Snowth. He needed her, he couldn't bare her to be taken from him by anyone. She was the only reason he was alive.

"Of course." F'ox nodded, a frown on his face. "Dragons don't lie, at least. They might hurt each other, but they don't lie and said they didn't. They don't lie." That wasn't true, but it was obvous he believed it. No dragon had ever lied to him- Semith had even told the truth when she said that Snowth was waiting for him. "I do too. I don't want him to be sad. He was so cute." He was beautiful. He needed to have a rider. "But all dragons are cute and beautiful."

F'ox nodded, that shy smile returning. "I'm just a prisoner." He offered, eyes closing. "I can't do anything. Just..." He trailed off, that familiar haunted look returning to his eyes. What wuld Orren say if he knew he'd been talking to someone like F'ox? He would probably leave or be mad at him- F'ox didn't want the cook to be mad at him. He liked him. People were always... disgusted by F'ox.

I'm no disgusted, F'oxmine. I love you. I always will. Snowth's soft voice carried to him, and F'ox nearly flinched at how sad she sounded. He'd made her sad. It was all his fault. You are perfect and wonderful. What happened to you was not your fault. It was never your fault. Her voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

I'm sure they will. Snowth spoke to Orren as if her private conference with F'ox hadn't happened, her eyes having only a touch of yellow anxiety. I hope that one finds you on the Sands. We have so few candidates...[/b]

[Inkwell]

"Hey, now. You're not just a prisoner. You managed to Impress a dragon, and from the looks of it, you can do a lot more than 'just' whatever got you here in the first place. You managed to take care of an injured dragonet when she needed you, and you're raising her into the beautiful creature she was meant to be. I'm fairly certain that isn't an innate skill people just have, that level of caring. You know what I mean?"

He crossed his arms in front of him on the table and leaned forward a bit, fixing F'ox with a expression that seemed to say 'you know it's true, don't argue'. "Let me be honest. I don't care about why you're wearing yellow. You're still a person, and a dragon chose you, which means you can't be evil. A dragon may take a mean rider, but they'd never taken an evil one. Right? Right. To be honest, you have more of a right to a dragon than I do. It's a second chance you wouldn't normally get, but one I'm sure you deserve, or you wouldn't have Impressed at all."

Orren knew that, for the Impressed prisoners, a dragon was life-changing in more ways than merely having a new mind entwined with one's own. A dragon, for F'ox, had likely meant a chance at companionship that F'ox had never expected he'd have, not to mention freedom he'd otherwise have to wait turns and turns to experience. Orren's life wasn't so bleak as that, or at least, he liked to think so: he wasn't imprisoned, he wasn't lonely, and he didn't need a second chance.

He just wanted to help. And he hoped that would be enough.

Snowth spoke to him, bringing up another excellent point. There were barely enough candidates for all the eggs, even with some of them missing. "If nothing else, I hope I Impress just for that. It would be horrible if more dragonets betweened just because there weren't enough candidates to stand for them. To be honest, that's one of the reasons I decided to try it: so few have stepped forward. You would think, with standing open to prisoners as well, that we would have more than enough."

[S'yal]

F'ox blushed. He looked down at the table, hardly realizing that his food was now gone. "It wasn't just me. The healers are the ones who made her better..." F'ox bit his lip, shaking his head. "It doesn't make me special. Any rider would do it for their dragon..." It was the truth, wasn't it? What rider would let their dragon suffer. "No, I don't." He seemed upset that he didn't understand, a frown etched onto his face.

F'ox shook his head, nails digging into the table. "But I don't." Of course Orren wouldn't understand, he didn't know. In F'ox's own mind, he was broken and dirty and all sorts of things that were wrong. Snowth let out a low whimper of protest, but F'ox for now ignored his Green. She didn't understand. Of course, in all reality, F'ox was the one who didn't understand. "I'm not a good person... I don't deserve Snowth. But I have her."

He'd never give her up. Even though he felt like he didn't deserve her, he wouldn't give her up for the world. It was that trait of selfishness that he'd somehow managed to keep. He wanted to be happy, even if he didn't feel like he deserved it.

I hope that none of them Between... especially after they were stolen. Snowth's eyes were yellow, mixed with red. Oh, those poor infants alone in the jungle... with only Djith and those terrible whers to mother them...[/b] She didn't know a green had left, but that hardly mattered. Her tender heart could hardly bare the realization of what awaited the infants- Between if they were lucky.

"They're scared." F'ox whispered, looking down. "I was scared. That they would hurt Snowth. She's too big now, but with Djith and her rider having left... what if prisoners impress to more of the new colors?" F'ox bit his lip, shuddering. "I don't want any of the babies to be hurt."

L'vey will protect them. Warden may be gone, but L'vey won't allow the watch to hurt them.[/b]