unwanted help [tagged Zen/Pod]

[tovaana]

Maz’ru :: Blue Quilath

Should you not start the cleaning process? “Don’t move.” Maz’ru muttered, glancing up at his dragon that was resting in a way that reminded him of people that sat or stood good posture. It might be prudent to at least gather all the materials so we are ready when the candidate arrives. “Please don’t move?” Quilath was all about manners, so hoped a please would quiet the dragon. The young rider was laying on his bed sideways with a leg propped up and the other dangling almost awkwardly off the bed while he sketched with graphite a quick crude outline of the dragon that he could define later. He hummed to himself, glad that he was able to take a moment to do something he used to enjoy – colors and abstract things were more of his specialty, as he had focused on singing than developing art… but as Quilath was important to him, he wanted to be able to document their journey both in song and art. While he was just a blue rider, nothing of great importance to Pern, he was still a rider who loved his dragon and the life he had. At least, he was beginning to enjoy life a little more now that Quilath was full grown and he was getting used to his new flow of life.

Quilath was still for a few breaths before his thoughtful whirling eyes scanned his surroundings and spotted the materials that were not all together. Then, to Maz’ru’s dismay, the dragon started to move. “Ah, c’mon Quil!” Quilath. The blue interjected in a simple tone, as if he had known his rider would shorten it. “I said please!” He slumped on his bed with a groan, his art things clattering to the floor. It will just take a moment to get the things together so we are properly prepared for oiling. The dragon used cautious slow movements and put the bucket of oil and oiling cloths and sponges in a pile, his teeth puncturing one of the sponges. Ah, next time I won’t use my teeth. Will you remind me not to use my teeth when grabbing things? Or, I should remember such a thing, as my teeth are clearly sharp. There we go, see? All prepared. He rested back in his spot, looking at Maz’ru that was still in a slump on his bed. Are you going to continue your… art? If not, I suggest we make use of this time to get started on my oiling. Maz’ru had his face buried in his pillow and made a noise into his pillow. Well, that’s not a very dignified answer. You should probably sit up, and try again.

Maz’ru couldn’t help himself, he started chuckling and pushed himself up and peered at his beautiful blue dragon. “You… are a stick in the mud. You know that? Even if I was going to continue my art, you’re not sitting how you were before, I’d have to start all over.” His hands made a helpless gesture and kicked the art under his bed and his dragon all but winced. Perhaps you should put your art away… somewhere… Quilath glanced around at the rider’s messy weyr and gave up on the idea, or at least, he was distracted by a familiar presence. Ah, the candidate is on his way.

“Cool… What?” There were some shielded feelings that Maz’ru caught from his blue, but the blue shrugged them off. It’s of no importance. Maz’ru frowned and shrugged, getting up and tossing things so there were at least organized piles of things, not that he particularly cared what anyone would think of his room. Having things clean the way that would make his dragon happy also made Maz’ru feel uncomfortable. This, the organized chaos of his room, felt like home to him. "Oh no Quil, you spilled a few drops of oil." The blue corrected his rider in the usage of the nickname and glanced curiously at the clean floor. Perhaps next time I'll try slower, or you could move it instead... There was a pause. I'm afraid you're mistaken, I didn't spill anything. "Yeah, sure, look - right here." The blue, clearly confused looked closer. "Keep looking! You'll find it." Maz'ru said with a straight face, but the dragon caught the humor and mental laughter and simply sighed, I do not understand human humor.

Zen

[Zen]

Podrell

All the candidates were going to be assisting various riders with cleaning and oiling their adult dragons today so they could see what it took to maintain the creatures at full growth. With eggs on the sands, S’bol had been trying to get them all more hands on, practical experience with dragons, which Podrell appreciated. He didn’t imagine cleaning a dragon to be a terribly complicated process but he supposed it would be good to see about how long it would take. They were quite large, after all. S’bol said it would take a couple hours, depending on the color - and therefore the size - of the dragon. The dragon’s personality could affect how long it took as well, which after a moment of thinking about Ama, he understood well enough.

For his part, he didn’t particularly have a preference for what sort of dragon he was assigned to for today. He didn’t mind a bit of a challenge if it came to it. Though there was of course a part of him hoping to Impress a bronze so it would be nice to see just how long a cleaning and oiling session would take with one. When S’bol gave him his assignment, however, there was a sinking feeling in his stomach. Why them, of all the pairs he could have been assigned to?

As his fellow candidates were heading off to their assignments, some happier than others at being assigned their preferred color of dragon, he made his way over to S’bol, “Sorry, S’bol, but I was wondering if there was perhaps any way I could be assigned to a different pair?”

S’bol’s head tilted just a little in confusion, “I’m sorry if you weren’t matched with a bronze or a brown, Podrell, but the assignments were drawn randomly to be fair. And there is nothing wrong with being a bluerider, you know.”

“No, of course not,” he agreed hurriedly, “That’s not what I meant. I don’t… the color I’m matched with doesn’t matter, it’s only for a few hours, I just… Maz’ru and I, ah… got off on the wrong foot already….”

S’bol’s gaze narrowed thoughtfully, and a flicker of confusion passed over his features, “Has he treated you poorly in the past?” S’bol found that hard to believe. He may not know the younger bluerider terribly well but Maz’ru hardly seemed to be the bullying sort. Not to mention Podrell had several turns on the young man and seemed capable of taking care of himself in such a situation.

“No, no… I, ah… I was…,” Podrell cleared his throat uncomfortably, hardly wanting to go into details with the candidate master about just why he and Maz’ru were not on good terms.

“Hmm,” S’bol made a thoughtful, knowing sort of sound, “Well if the fault lies with you, Podrell, I suggest you use this opportunity to try to make amends. Should you Impress, you may very well be Maz’ru’s wingmate one day. You’ll need to be able to put whatever is between you now behind you in order to work together. Better you work through it now than during a Fall. There is significantly less danger in washing a dragon.” He ended with a short chuckle and waved him on, “Unfortunately all the others have already gone to their assignments anyway, so even if I was to allow you to switch, I don’t have any other riders expecting a candidate today. Go on now, it would hardly make things better between you for you to be late, would it?”

Podrell was mildly annoyed the candidate master made a good argument for his going, but he doubted Maz’ru would be at all happy to see him, much less be working with him. This was going to be… unpleasant. He sighed and turned to make his way to Maz’ru’s weyr, which he had at least been to before, so he vaguely remembered the way. He hadn’t imagined he would ever be coming back here, as he stood in front of the door, apprehensive. It wasn’t like he at all had a good excuse for his asinine behavior. He couldn’t explain why he fell into acting so very out of character around Siorreya. He sighed again and raised a fist to knock. Best to just get on with it.

There was a call inviting him in and he couldn’t decide if he preferred that to being met at the door or not. At least this way Maz’ru couldn’t slam the door in his face, but it felt like trickery somehow, sneaking into his weyr without him knowing who he was first and giving him the chance to send him away instead, which would hardly make anything go better. He came to an awkward stop in the middle of the room with a glance at Quilath, “I’m… here to assist you with Quilath’s care… if you’ll allow me.” He had no idea what to say to Maz’ru, so getting to the point seemed just as good a starting place as any.

tovaana

[tovaana]

Maz’ru :: Blue Quilath

“Come in!” He shouted, and could feel his blue’s disapproval. Wouldn’t it be more polite to let them in? ‘Maybe.’ He admitted, and would later wonder if he wished he had answered the door (so he could slam the door in the candidate’s face) or if he was glad he hadn’t been so polite.

The moment his eyes hit Podrell’s face, his body had an instant physical reaction – his face contorting in an uncontrolled grimace. He even made a noise that came with the expression before he could stop it, a disgusted “ehhhu.” The expression faded a bit from the original distorted disgust, but his face remained unhappy, but he turned his glare to his blue, making an instant connection. “Of no importance, huh?” He muttered, but he didn’t move from his bed to greet the tunnelsnake. His face mellowed into unexpressive passive aggressive one, where his fury and memories started to surface and boil behind his mask.

“Hah!” He barked with a sneer, shaking his head and then the cruel part of his nature coming up with his next thoughts. “Oh, I’ll allow it. Go ahead then, be thorough. Quilath, don’t move, I’ll start that art piece over again.” He grabbed the board and parchment that he’d kicked under his bed. He kicked back in a relaxed position and started to sketch again without any other instructions.

Has this candidate cleaned a dragon before? ‘Don’t know, don’t care.’ That’s not very kind. I know he has wronged you… ‘He has, and he’s not the sort of person I want to waste my energy on. He’s a tunnelsnake, and there’s no way he’s a changed person in a short amount of time, just because he decided he did want to be a dragon candidate. To think, our first search was him? Uhg. Besides, he’s probably just staying for Sio’s sake, he probably doesn’t even care about being a dragon rider. No dragon would actually want him, even if he was ‘searched’- no, I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t impress. In fact, I hope he doesn’t.’ He rambled on in his thoughts, anger snowballing the more he thought about everything; feeling the fresh bitterness from when Podrell had used Maz’ru, and the humiliation that the man hadn’t actually been interested in Quilath – but in his sister and some stupid game. And then of course, there was the disgust of whatever was going on between him and his sister. He grimaced for a moment, breaking his façade for a moment before mellowing again, but he didn’t look at Podrell again, glancing up at his dragon and making quick light lines as he began his art.

Zen

[Zen]

Podrell

Well, that reaction was about what he expected, and hardly unwarranted. He sighed lightly, thinking back to the day he had made such an ass of himself and still at a loss as to how he’d allowed himself to act so…. He managed not to grimace at the thought. It had been so out of character, he couldn’t explain it. Well… not all of it anyway. Part of the bluerider’s dislike surely came from being used, and that… that wasn’t terribly out of character for him. He just felt bad about it in this particular instance. He had been curious about Quilath and how he compared to Ama, but it had been a convenient excuse to get Sio to a more private location. But he couldn’t change what he’d already done, so there wasn’t much use in continuing to dwell on it.

Maz’ru agreed to let him stay, it seemed… but also apparently planned for him to do the task on his own. He glanced at the blue with a slight frown. S’bol had gone over the basics of dragon care with them and it hardly seemed like a complicated process. Surely he could figure it out on his own. The only thing that would make it difficult was the size of a dragon, and that just meant more time taken to see the job completed. It wasn’t like he had much else to do today. S’bol had said after they’d finished their assignment today the rest of the day was theirs, which was fortunate for those of them that had been paired with greens and blues and less so for those who had to help with browns and bronzes. Still, as he had never done it before, and Maz’ru was apparently going to offer no help, it would probably take him a while.

His gaze shifted briefly back to Maz’ru, where the young man was still on his bed and had fetched some supplies to start sketching. “As you wish,” he replied amiably, “Hopefully your disdain for me can be turned into something constructive once I’ve finished, I look forward to hearing how poorly I’ve done and all the ways I might improve.” It was only mildly sarcastic, as he did enjoy feedback. He wanted to know if he’d done anything wrong and how he could fix it, so that he could improve in the future. After all, he hardly wanted to do a bad job with his own dragon, should he impress. But he was anticipating Maz’ru to go over his work with a much more critical eye than he might have with some other candidate, not that he couldn’t take some nitpicking.

He rolled up his sleeves and made his way over to where the cleaning supplies had been gathered, turning his attention to Quilath for now since Maz’ru seemed intent on ignoring him, “I know you aren’t fond of speaking to others, Quilath, but I do hope you’ll tell me if I’m doing something terribly wrong. I would like to do right by the dragon that Searched me.” A slight smile pulled at his lips as he surveyed the dragon and considered just where to start, thinking back on his candidate lessons so far. “Hm… if you’ve any dry spots, I’d appreciate if you could direct me there first, otherwise I suppose I’ll begin at the nose and work to the tail, unless you have some objection?”

tovaana

[tovaana]

Maz’ru :: Blue Quilath

So agreeable. Yet, there was clear sarcasm – though he wasn’t sure if it was the words themselves, or the tone he was using. The young rider ignored Podrell, not making any noise of acknowledgement or anything- no, this man wasn’t worth his time or energy. However, what if Sio and the tunnelsnake made up? What if they stayed together? It seemed clear that the man was being agreeable because he wanted to be in good grace with Siorreya, not necessarily with Maz’ru. And as much as he loved his sister, he disliked the idea of someone being nice with him, just because of their adoration of Sio… it seemed too ‘fake’. And Maz and Sio had also not really spoken since the incident… so in the moment, Maz’ru had no motivation to be a better person, not even for his sister.

Meanwhile, Quilath squirmed uncomfortably under the awkward situation where his rider was refusing to be polite. Yet the only squirming was mental, and even that was cool and collected as the blue considered the situation. The blue was grateful that the candidate understood the awkward situation, as it wasn’t proper for Quilath to speak directly to a human that was not his. His eyes whirled green and blue, face level as he breathed on the candidate that was being the sort of polite that he appreciated it. Quilath then nudged his own undersides – they were the driest. His face turned to his rider for a moment, I don’t suppose you’ll change your mind? He is taking care of my hide – which is your responsibility. ‘No. I won’t. I’ll go over his work at the end, don’t worry… and he’s motivated to look good for Sio, so I imagine he’ll do his best.’ The dragon’s eyes moved from his rider to the candidate, his eyes tinged ever so slightly with an apologetic yellow.

It was difficult for Maz'ru to focus on his drawing, only because in looking up at his dragon, Podrell was there cleaning his dragon.

After Podrell had been working for a while, Ma’ru spoke up while fleshing out the lines in his sketch. He hadn’t looked up from his work in a good five minutes.

“You missed a spot.” His voice was clear and Quilath looked at him, confused, before he realized that his rider had done the same ‘joke’ to him. Perhaps you’d like to be clear in which spot he missed. ‘Don’t you get it? This whole thing is a joke to him. Remember how he didn’t accept being a rider at first? I don’t believe he really wants it.’ Quilath didn’t argue, though he did disagree – since the dragon felt like the candidate was doing a good job, especially for not having much experience… but Quilath wasn’t going to say that, not to either of the humans present.

[Zen]

Podrell

Maz’ru didn’t respond to his snarky comment, which was probably to be expected. If he wanted to try to fix things between them, snark probably wasn’t the best course of action, but he felt more like actions would speak louder anyway. He didn’t have much hope in his ability to fix this particular problem with his words. He’d used Maz’ru and the young man probably wouldn’t believe a thing he said, suspecting him of some further manipulation. He had blown his first impression with the bluerider, and a terrible first impression tended to stick with people. It would be difficult to improve Maz’ru’s opinion of him, but at least he couldn’t see how it could possibly get any worse.

At his request, the blue nudged at his own undersides and Pod took the meaning, starting his work there and doing his best to simply focus on the task at hand. He thought about what S’bol had said as he worked and couldn’t help but sigh lightly, trying to figure out some course of action that might at least jumpstart a fix. He wasn’t coming up with much though. If only Quilath was as talkative as Ama, perhaps the blue could have helped him come up with something. He wasn’t, however, so that was no option.

“You missed a spot.”

He paused in consideration of the statement for a moment, glancing back at hide he’d already gone over, quite sure he was being thorough, and couldn’t decide if Maz’ru was serious or just toying with him out of spite. The bluerider offered no direction, so he was inclined to believe it was spite. “I’ll be happy to go over any spot I’ve missed once I’ve finished and you’ve had a chance to do a through inspection,” he replied simply and continued from where he’d left off. He may want to make amends but he wasn’t going to make a fool of himself or be walked all over in the process. Thinking more on it, he wasn’t even sure if Maz’ru would be able to tell if a spot had been missed from his bed or not.

He ran his hand over a spot he’d found that seemed rougher, where he’d worked oil into it, and marveled for a moment at the shift of colors in Quilath’s hide. “You really do have a most handsome coloring, Quilath.” He was pretty sure he’d said about the same thing at their first meeting, but he was only reminded of how appealing it was, being up close and personal with the blue. He couldn’t help but think how the colors would make a beautiful glassware set, and then let out a soft laugh at himself. Dragon themed glassware sets. Yes, perhaps he could become known for that should he fail to Impress. He could create entire sets of bowls and plates and cups to match riders’ dragons for them. He shook his head at the silly musing. Though it wasn’t a terrible idea, it was hardly what he wanted to do with his life.

He chanced a glance back at Maz’ru. The bluerider was clearly drawing his dragon, as he’d told the blue not to move and that he would start the art over earlier. So he ventured an attempt at conversation, “Were you an artist before you became a rider?” He fully expected to be ignored or otherwise snubbed, but there was no harm in trying.

tovaana

[tovaana]

Maz’ru :: Blue Quilath

The young man rolled his eyes at the pleasant response to his ‘missing spot’ comment.

He is being very kind, could you pass on my gratitude? ‘It isn’t genuine. And no, do it yourself.’ But it wouldn’t be- ‘what, proper? Do you really think I care about being proper with this tunnelsnake?’ It certainly doesn’t seem like you do, but proper etiquette and being an honorable rider is rising above those with lower values. I wouldn’t say to trust someone who has slighted you, but honor has more to do with how you act toward those that slight you. ‘Yeah, well, I don’t feel like being nice or proper or whatever. There was a moment of mental silence and the dragon dipped his head a little for the candidate, his chest vibrating a little with his rumble of gratitude of the compliment. Uhg. Why did his dragon have to be so… so… proper. The word made him want to puke.

After a few more minutes passed, the man spoke again. Did he honestly expect a constructive conversation?

Maz’ru didn’t look up, tension playing in the muscles of his jaw. Anger bubbled and boiled and Quilath shifted a little as if bracing for what he felt coming. I don’t suppose anything I say could help you calm down in a situation like this? “No! It would not.” He said aloud, his eyes glancing up momentarily at his dragon then back at his work. Mental speech was more private, but it wasn’t as rewarding when trying to express his feelings. His pale green eyes were sharp as they stared down at his drawing, but his hands had stopped their jerky movements.

“What do tunnelsnakes know of having civil conversations? They creep around looking for advantages, beating around the bush – but never actually apologizing. Just cut to the chase, it might make you look less pathetic than trying to lick the dirt off my shoes." He sat up, eyes ablaze as he looked up, eyes half lidded. “Let me show you how, since tunnelsnakes are more adept with oily words. You like Sio, so you need me to like you, and I don’t and never will. You crossed lines you cannot uncross, no matter how hard to you try and pretend like nothing happened. So stop acting like everything is fine, because it’s not.” His voice was venomous and even, but he didn’t look away, daring the man drop the façade.

Zen

[Zen]

Podrell

“No! It would not.”

Pod glanced back at Maz’ru at the rather heated comment, though it didn’t seem to apply to anything he had said. His gaze shifted up to Quilath, sure it was meant for the dragon, and for the first time he considered that the two of them were having a conversation right under his nose that he had no idea about. It was strange, since Ama generally broadcast her side of the conversation and he’d never really had to worry about a private conversation happening around him before. Or maybe there’d been more private conversation than he’d been aware of. He could only imagine what the two had been talking about.

He had expected to simply have his question ignored, so when Maz’ru instead launched into his scathing tirade, he was rather surprised. Odd though it may be, he preferred it to being ignored. At least it gave him something to work with. He paused in his oiling of the blue before him to let the accusations rain down on him, waiting for the younger man to finish and rolling his words around in his mind, trying to decide just where to start. He supposed the venom in Maz’ru’s voice had surprised him a little too. He knew he was angry at him, and that he had every right to be, but he had underestimated just how poorly the bluerider thought of him.

He hardly thought he was bootlicking by just trying to be civil. He wasn’t groveling for forgiveness or layering flattery on Maz’ru in the hopes of getting back into his good graces. He just wanted to start a dialogue so he could at least try to mend what he’d done. Well, he had gotten that now, hadn’t he? When the bluerider seemed finished, he sighed, “I don’t need you to like me, Maz’ru.” He returned to his work, “I would prefer it, of course, but my relationship with Siorreya can exist without your approval.” He was only being frank, which seemed to be what Maz’ru wanted. Having family members that disapproved of their relationship was hardly ideal, but he certainly wasn’t going to give her up over it, and he doubted very much that Sio herself cared much what anyone thought of what she did and who she spent her time with, family or not.

“And I did offer you an apology, I can’t control whether you believe in it or accept it,” his brow furrowed slightly in concentration as he worked oil into the blue’s hide for a quiet moment, before turning to look back at Maz’ru, wanting to face him when he offered his apology once more, “I got caught up, as I often do, in the game Siorreya and I have been playing. I can’t change what I did, but I am sorry for it. I went too far. I was genuinely interested in meeting Quilath, and I’m thankful for it as well.”

He went back to his scrubbing, considering all the bluerider had said once more, “It isn’t my intention to act like nothing happened. Whether I can rebuild this bridge I’ve burned or not, you are Siorreya’s family… I will be civil with you, even if you cannot forgive me and don’t trust me. I did use you. I understand how that would inspire further mistrust, and I… spoke atrociously.” Maybe if the two of them had been alone, he wouldn’t feel as ashamed of what he’d said, but saying something like that in front of her brother? He would have thrown a punch had it been him in Maz’ru’s situation, and violence was never his first response. “Believe what you will, but I am very aware of all I did, Maz’ru, and I am not proud of it. I do learn from my mistakes, but if you insist on holding them against me, that is your prerogative. I would like to earn your forgiveness, but I won’t grovel for it, and if you are resolved that you ‘don’t like me and never will’, then I won’t waste my time trying to convince you otherwise.”

tovaana

[tovaana]

Maz’ru :: Blue Quilath

He waved a hand in dismissal, “You apologized because of the consequences.” He was standing now, seething. He clenched his jaw to keep anything else from coming out. He listened, the logical part of him heard the genuine nature of what he was saying, however the way he ended the ‘apology’ snapped any sanity that had been gathering. “I suppose to you rebuilding bridges means only making things better when your assignment makes you apologize or make things better? How dare you come here to my space and tell me I can suck it up and that it’s all on my cooperation.”

His hand lifted almost numbly. He didn’t want to get any closer, because he’d never had such uncontrollable anger vibrate through him, so much desire to see someone on the ground and unconscious after being pummeled by his own hands. His fists clenched, his breathing deep, and his lip was lifted in a snarl like an animal. That’s what he felt like, an animal, and he didn’t like it – and yet he’d never felt so alive.

“Get. Out.”

He felt his dragon's sadness and disapproval, but this time didn't say anything - Quilath didn't feel like he'd be heard anyways, the feelings that were surging through his rider felt like a wall. 

Zen

[Zen]

Podrell

Podrell let out a huff of exasperated breath at the accusation that he only apologized due to the ‘consequences’. “I apologized because I feel remorse for my actions,” he replied firmly, beginning to feel irritated with Maz’ru constantly telling him what his own motives were. But the words that followed from the younger man made it quite clear he didn’t believe that. He rubbed one hand over his face, recognizing the losing battle he was fighting. “No… I didn’t mean it that way….” What was the use, at this point? Maz’ru was riled up once more and clearly had no desire to listen to anything he said and hear it for what it was. The bluerider kept twisting things, distorting his words, and Podrell had no desire to give him any more fuel to those ends. Maz’ru was going to believe what he wanted to believe, it seemed. Perhaps that was fair. They’d interacted once before this and it had ended terribly, he’d given Maz’ru absolutely no reason to trust him or anything he said.

He had been giving the bluerider space, both of them some space, to let the… event simmer and perhaps cool any feelings over it so that a proper discussion could be had between them. And he hardly imagined Maz’ru even wanted him showing up trying to apologize again, and even with the bluerider’s accusing words that he was only apologizing because he was forced to be here for his candidate lesson, he doubted he would have accepted an apology at any other time either, even if he had come of his own free will specifically for that purpose. No, he was quite certain words were not going to solve anything between them.

When the sharp order for him to leave was bitterly spat at him, he could only sigh again. “... As you wish, bluerider,” he responded after a moment, dipping his head respectfully, his tone carefully neutral. He glanced over to the dragon then, “I apologize that I’m unable to finish your oiling, Quilath. I hope I didn’t do too terrible a job.” He gave the blue a quick bow of the head as well. If words would not work, he could only hope that actions would serve to earn him a second chance with Maz’ru, eventually. He turned and headed out, entirely unsure if a second chance would ever be forthcoming. All he could do was be better and hope Maz’ru would see it, and if he didn’t then it was hardly for naught to improve himself anyway.

tovaana (end?)