Backhanded

Writers: Miriah, Yvonne
Date Posted: 22nd July 2014

Characters: J'ackt, Alina
Description: Alina offers Jenackt some unsolicited advice, and doesn't much like what she's given in return
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 7, day 24 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: N'vanik, Sh'del, Chaysea

J'ackt

Alina

Jenackt paced into the barracks, his mouth tight. It hadn't taken long for him to discover that the dragon infirmary was not a place he enjoyed being. Irritable riders, dragons who were in pain and couldn't communicate except through their irritable riders only kept his temper on edge. Sh'del, he decided, was tempting to put him over the edge. It was only out of pure obstinacy that Jenackt had kept a rein on his temper. He was not going to allow that man to beat him. As it was, the constant duty in the infirmary had made it near impossible to even do anything else he had planned or even try to become N'vanik's assistant as had been planned. He'd not even seen the man since the offer.

It wasn't until he actually looked around that he noticed several Candidates were holding hatching robes. Some were trying them on, others were sewing, getting them to fit. That made his mood even worse. He'd not been given one, of course. Just another reminder for him. How nice.

"You know, the wind will change and your face will stick like that," Alina said the next time Jenackt passed her. He'd walked in looking like a thunderstorm and he'd proceeded to make two laps around the room. She bit the end off the thread she'd tied and set the robe aside. She'd made a few minor alterations for one of the younger boys, and would hopefully earn the Headwoman's approval for it.

Not in the mood to be chided, Jenackt was quick to snap back. "Well that explains you, doesn't it?"

Alina rolled her eyes. Childish. She slipped the needle she'd been using back into the spool of thread and folded the robe over her arm. The robe she could leave hanging off the boy's bunk. The spool of thread she dropped in her pocket, to return to the mending basket in the common room.

He stalked to his bunk and sat down, kicking his boots off of tired feet before slumping down, elbows on his knees. What was Sh'del trying to prove? Stubborn refusal to give in surged. It didn't help that he was tired and needed a bath either. He stared down at the floor, not looking up at the movement around him.

As she moved to hang up the mended robe, her gaze was drawn to the robes around the room. Everyone had one in their hands, or hanging by their beds, except Jenackt. She bit her lip, remembering the last time they'd spoken and she'd asked him about Sh'del. Maybe that was why he was glowering like the world was going to end. Carefully she hung the boy's robe on his hook, then turned to retreat to her side of the room. Only... **This is stupid. He's always rude, and you don't like him.** "You should talk to the Weyrleader," she said quietly. "If you want to."

He looked up at Alina and his scowl faded, surprised at her concern. "Weyrlingmaster decides. N'vanik doesn't." He sighed. "Sh'del has me in the dragon infirmary, looking at injuries all day. Blood and gore and infection. I don't know what he's trying to prove."

"He's trying to prove that he _can_. It's like-- it's like the men throwing bundles of wheat at harvest season. They want to prove who's strongest. It's all just a game to see who can hold out the longest." She shrugged. "So if you want to Stand, be strategic about it."

"He has me with Sagan. Feels like he's trying to shove this boy at me and all it does is piss me off." He hated being forced into anything. "I think he proved he's the one in control. All he has to do is snap his fingers and I'm gone. I think he's just waiting for me to give him a reason."

She shook her head. She and Elana had been asked to babysit the littles a few times, until they found the trick of it. Elana had fed beets and cake to a bunch of toddlers when they'd been stuck minding the creche instead of at a harvest feast with everyone else. They weren't often asked to mind children after that, although Alina hadn't minded it so much. "So what are you going to do?"

His scowl returned. "I'm not going give him a fecking reason, but I'm not going to kiss his ass either." He kicked at a pebble at his feet. "If he boots me, I'll leave. That simple."

"Fair enough." She shrugged. He'd obviously be happier out in the wilderness, even if the thought of living in the jungle gave her nightmares. "But you should ask him for a robe, at least."

He looked up at Alina and studied her face for a long moment. "You know, you're pretty okay. For a holder."

For a _holder_. As if _he_ could judge her, and had, and was looking down his nose at her family. She glared at him, and moved on.

"Hey, I was trying to give you a compliment. Are you too good to be complimented now?" He'd been shaffing well trying to be nice!

She turned on her heel to face him, wondering as she did so why she couldn't just walk away. "Well, maybe you should work on that. Or maybe it's just because I'm a holder and am too slow to know what a _real_ complement is. Take your pick."

Jenackt's brow lifted. "Well, I don't know. Most of the holder's I've met are a little slow." He rose from his cot and shrugged. "But compared to the ones I've met, you're not so bad. Take it how you like it."

"Then I won't." She turned her nose up in the air and marched back to the other side of the barracks.

Last updated on the July 28th 2014

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Backhanded