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| Zocheri; Weyr Support Staff | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 15 2008, 11:19 PM (398 Views) | |
| Khaleeco | Mar 15 2008, 11:19 PM Post #1 |
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**Trigger Warning!: Sexual Assault is mentioned/described in this profile**![]() "For what he's done, he has no right to live." Name| Zocheri (pronounced: ZO-sher-e; nickname: Zo) Age| 20 Turns Gender| Female Orientation| Heterosexual Rank(s)| Weyrfolk Weyrmate| n/a Romantic Interests| n/a Appearance| Zocheri is tall, standing at an imposing 6 feet in height. She is quite attractive, with a curvaceous, hourglass shape that belies her strength and agility. Her hair is coppery, a medium auburn brown, and cut to her shoulders with long, side swept bangs falling over the right side of her face. Her eyes are deep green in color. Her accent is distinctly from the Fort region. She is left-hand dominate. Her most noticeable piece of attire is a long length of cloth that is secured at her shoulder on her left side, falling to just above her knees. She is never seen without it on. It covers up a large, horrific looking hypertrophic scar on her forearm caused from a nasty double compound fracture that became infected. A similar large hypertrophic scar is on her upper right arm just below her shoulder that likewise became infected while healing. She covers the latter up with longer sleeved clothing. Though she survived the infections, her left arm suffers from nerve damage and she is in severe, near constant pain. It has been known to just cease working on the worst days. On her better days, it still suffers from tremors. She does not know if her left arm will ever get better or if, one day, it will simply cease to work altogether and never function again. She tries not to dwell too heavily on that very real possibility. Personality| Zocheri is distant and aloof, tending towards brief, biting sarcasm and disdainful looks in most interactions. Her speech affect is generally blunted, almost monotonic, unless experiencing an emotional extreme. She's a hard worker, though stubborn to a fault. She has a quick temper and is prone to violence. Though she gives off the aura of someone who has no desire for social interactions she is, deep down, lonely. She doesn't like interacting with others, no, but she still wants to have company around her and to feel like a part of something. Those who stick around and aren't chased off by her less than friendly mannerisms figure this out and she can become quite protective of them (the two notable examples of this are her deceased sister, Cherora, and Y'kib, whom she calls "Pipsqueak"). Zocheri suffers from a rather severe case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that stems from her being violently raped a few Turns prior to coming to the Weyr. She suffers from flashbacks, especially on bad days with her arm, and frequent, recurring night terrors that leave her screaming and deny her (and those who share a room with her) any real, restful sleep. That attack also caused another defining trait in Zocheri-- a visceral, almost obsessive hatred and need for revenge. Her entire life was destroyed when she was attacked. All she had wanted was a normal life. And now it's been forever denied to her. Her sister's sudden death in childbirth-- her attacker's child-- compounded on her raw pain and now all Zocheri sees is vengeance. Retribution. If she can kill the person who did this to her, kill K'dar, then... well, she doesn't know. She's never thought that far ahead. All she has right now is that thirst, no, need for revenge. The hate is her drive. If she were to stop and take stock of her life she'd realize that, by obsessing over the past, she's only constantly re-wounding herself and continuing to give K'dar complete control over her. But she's too young. And the pain too real. And she has no group of people close enough to her to support her. So she clings to that hate and that anger, because it also feels real. It feels familiar. And, in the end, it may very well destroy her. History| Born and raised in tiny Ranorm Hold (barely a hold at all), near Fort Hold, Zocheri always sort of stuck out. A serious child, she was only ever seen smiling when with her younger sister Cherora. Quick to violence, uninterested in playing games, and seeming distant from all except her sister (including her parents), others just generally treated her as "that tall, violent girl of Zorad and Cheria's." It was undeniable, however, that the girl had a strong work ethic. Cherora was Zocheri's life. A dedicated older sister in every sense of the word, she made it her duty in life to make sure that Cherora could live like the Lady Holder she saw her as. Cheora was too precious, too special to do menial tasks like others. Too delicate to bathe in the cold water of the creek that everyone else used. So Zocheri would take on both her own and her sister's work. She'd do all the extra work to make sure Cherora could bathe in heated water in a large basin. She learned to cook young so she could prepare the best meals for her sister. She took on extra work around the Hold to save marks so she could buy her sister gifts and trinkets that would make her happy. Like real soap. Or a ribbon Cherora had seen in a brief glance and idly pondered how it would look in her light strawberry blonde tresses. Zocheri even kept her own hair long-- very long-- despite how much work it was, and how much it got in the way of everything. Because Cherora liked the pretty copper tones in it and liked to play around with it. Cherora, though a kindhearted, popular, beautiful, naive sort of girl, never questioned her sister's willingness to do all this work for her. Zocheri spoiled the girl so frequently that she inadvertently caused Cherora to grow up thinking this was normal and that she was, indeed, as special as her sister thought her to be. Growing up, work and Cherora were Zocheri's entire life. She didn't have any friends, though she was frequently in the company of a group of girls that did similar chores to her and that were friends with Cherora. They didn't actively bring her into their fold but liked her around as a sort of protector, since she intimidated most boys. And this suited Zocheri just fine. It was ideal, even. She felt like a part of something but they didn't expect her to actively engage with them. For all of her stand-offish nature, Zocheri didn't really have a bad opinion of anyone in the hold and treated them all with the same indifference. All save one. A boy named Kedar (K'dar). A bit older than Zocheri, he was the adoration of everyone he came across. Adults thought he was charming, good-natured, and obedient. Younger boys looked up to him while the ones his age tried to be his friend. And, as they all grew into adolescents, girls scrambled to get him in their beds. All in all, he seemed the perfect, golden child. Zocheri hated him. She'd hated him since they were small children. She saw through his false faces, fake charms, and feigned humility. She knew him for the psychopath he was. And she could not, for the life of her, understand why no one else could see what she saw. It infuriated her. It was so completely obvious to her! Why was everyone else so blind? She was not quiet on the matter. Though they tended to run in very different circles, she would call him out, loudly and publicly, any and every chance she got. She found herself constantly correcting the girls in her own group. Pointing out lies and holes in the stories they told. How nothing added up. How things always seemed too perfect. The girls always brushed her off. Or made cheeky comments about how Zocheri was expressing an obvious crush in a rather boy-like fashion. This only infuriated her more. She didn't sharding like him! She hated him! Why was everyone so daft and half-witted on the matter?! She continued on trying to expose him for what he was even as it all fell on deaf ears. Most, especially the adults, just though her a silly, teenage girl having a silly, teenage crush. Others around her age tended to just think her odd and irritating. These outbursts got old, fast, after all. The looks she'd get from him when no one else was paying attention, however, only cemented in her mind that she was right in the matter. And it made her want to pull her hair out in frustration that no one would sharding believe her! Then Cherora fell in love with him. And Zocheri felt ill. She felt powerless. Zocheri pleaded with her sister to stop seeing him, that it was all lies and smoke and mirrors and manipulations. Please, Cherora, please believe your sister. Please see him for what he really was. Cherora waved off all of her sister's concerns. She was in love and he said he loved her back! And that was all that mattered. This was different from what he felt with all the others girls. He told her so! Didn't her sister want her to be happy? Everyone else was so happy for them! Zocheri had always done whatever Cherora had asked or wanted, so why couldn't she just get over this and be happy for her? Those taunting looks when no one else was watching told Zocheri exactly what she already knew deep down- this was a game. One that she didn't realize she was even playing until she was too far in to back out. One that she hadn't read the rules to. One that she was losing. It was such a simple game and yet, here she was, not playing it right and losing every step of the way. She never realized just how badly until it was too late. The section of the creek that ran near the hold where the laundry was done doubled as the main bathing area for the holdfolk in the warmer months. The girls would make a day trip of it, heading down to wash the linens and clothes then bathe as the laundry hung to dry. Once clean and the laundry dry, the girls would pack it all up and leave Zocheri to her own devices. Zocheri, always rather peopled out by the time bathing came around, would be tasked by the girls to stay on shore and keep an eye out for any curious, peeping boys. This courtesy was never offered in return. It wasn't something she really minded though, bathing alone. It was a nice time to just relax and take in the soothing, soft sounds of nature. But it did mean she was just that-- alone. She was 16 Turns. Washing the sweetsand out of her hip-length hair in the deep, calm pool the holdfolk had dug into the edge of the creek ages ago and thinking about how she'd likely head back with it soaking wet and let Cherora oil and brush it out by the hearth like she always enjoyed doing. The sound of boots walking down the rocky shore pulled her from her thoughts and she wondered what would cause the girls to return. Did they forget something? They usually just had her bring things they forgot back. When she turned to look at who had arrived, she was startled to see it wasn't one of the girls at all. It was Kedar. Words were exchanged, Zocheri getting out of the waters and pushing past him to go get dressed and head back to the hold. She didn't find him threatening and was irritated that he'd interrupted her day. She never even realized the danger she was in until he suddenly grabbed her. There was a brief scuffle, both underestimating the strength of the other. Then a stand off where more words were exchanged. Then a struggle. Before she knew it, Zocheri was on the ground, screaming in blinding, agonizing pain, Kedar on top of her. A blade was deep in her right arm, digging through her flesh and down into the ground under her. Her left arm was broken, the bones jutting out from torn muscle and skin, blood streaming from her wounds. At some point, she lost consciousness. Zocheri awoke in a cot in an unfamiliar building, everything in intense pain. Voices allowed her pain numbed mind come to the conclusion that she was in the healers. She refused an offered cup of fellis laced wine and demanded to know what had happened. She'd been attacked, she was told. Some Fanarth forsaken holdless man had come upon her. He'd committed one of the most unthinkable acts on Pern upon her. She was lucky that Kedar had shown up. He chased the man off and saved her, carrying her gravely injured body back to the hold. He had looked so worried when he got to the hold, and expressed such guilt that he had not captured the attacker. But he had just been so focused on saving Zocheri. He was off comforting her sister and mother while the men were out searching the surrounding areas for her attacker. The memories slammed into her mind and she snapped out of the haze of pain. She tried to sit up, get up, but her arms were just agony. That was all crackdust! And she said as much. He hadn't saved her! He'd been the one that attacked her! He did all of this to her! She was in so much pain, the slap to the face barely even registered. The young woman tending to her, an apprentice healer of sorts, went off on her. This was a final straw that broke the burdenbeast's back. Just what was wrong with Zocheri?! How could she just denounce her savior like that? Accuse him of such horrible crimes?! She took the laced wine away and did not replace the numbweed on Zocheri's wounds. The journeyman healer would tend to her when he arrived and it would do her good to sit and stew in pain for a few days. It would humble the sorry wherry. Through negligence and lack of adequate skill, Zocheri fell ill with fever before the healer, a man named Sansian, could arrive, with infection settling into her wounds. Sansian was sickened and horrified to see the condition the young girl was in. Worse still, the attacker had never been found. Through his skill and determination, her willpower, and the holds proximity to Fort itself for additional resources, she pulled through. Barely. And not without permanent damage. But, still, she was alive. And starting on a very long road to recovery. During this time, Cherora became heavy with child. And Kedar was Searched and left it all behind without even a glance back. The full weight of what had happened to Zocheri hit and, at first, she struggled to understand why this had all happened to her. Everyone pitied her. They kept telling her to take it easy and not push herself so hard to recover so fast. These things take time. But she couldn't just sit there and waste away her days like that! Her indifference to the holdfolk turned into contempt. All of this, all of it, and still they didn't believe her. No one believed her. And now they had the audacity to pity her? To look down at her? To view her as permanently damaged? Thread take them all! And then Cherora died in childbirth. And Zocheri realized she'd lost everything. He'd taken absolutely everything. Her entire life was ruined. Over. She had nothing left. Her parents were inconsolable over the double tragedy to their daughters. Zocheri shut out everyone, including them. Everything in her turned to anger. Then hate. He'd done this to her. And he needed to pay for it. She didn't know how. But she was going to find him. Kill him. Make him pay for it all. For her pain. For her sister's death. For everything. Then the world would be right again. Then everything would make sense. While revenge was all she could think about, however, life went on. She threw herself into her work, unable to do anything except hard work to keep her mind off the pain. The nightmares. The memories. It all plagued her every moment. Working so hard that all she could do was pass out from exhaustion at the end of the day let her get through it. She carried on like this as the days turned to months and the months blurred into Turns. A Searchdragon arrived one day. From the same Weyr that Kedar (now K'dar) had been Searched to. Zocheri leapt at the opportunity to both exact her revenge and to simply just get away from Ranorm. Without even a goodbye to her parents, she demanded the Searchrider take her with him. G'had was taken aback at the girl but Isaiath found her suitable to Stand, so he agreed. He'd taken back odder kids before, after all. He was also pretty sure there wasn't a thing he could do to dissuade her. Once at Deep Forest Weyr, the Candidate Master wasn't opposed to letting her Stand despite her injuries (after all, Yysik had Stood until he aged out and he had a bad leg). But she knew it would be foolish and dangerous to fight Thread in her condition. Zocheri also just didn't want to. She'd never wanted to do something like fighting Thread. She'd just wanted to live a normal life, shaffit! A'ron shrugged at her decision, told her Standing was always open until she aged out, then sent her off to the Headwoman to be put to work. Zocheri has not taken terribly well to Weyrlife. Though she prefers it to living in Ranorm Hold, she finds the denizens weird and the more liberal lifestyles uncomfortable. She's again thrown herself into her work to distract her mind from her body and her past. Seeing the man who ruined her life around has caused her to have flashbacks more frequently and her night terrors have become an almost nightly occurrence. But the right moment to kill him hasn't come up. She failed to do so when she first arrived and realized she needed a solid plan and advantage before trying again. In her time at the Weyr, she'd gotten used to a young boy following her around named Yankib (Y'kib). He stuck around, ignoring her bad temper and scathing tone, and she found herself growing protective over him. Possibly even fond. Taking to calling him "Pipsqueak", she was quite surprised when he suddenly stopped following her everywhere like a lost duckling. He'd apparently Impressed at the latest Hatching. She hadn't been expecting to miss the company. And she doesn't quite know how to feel about the young boy's dragonet coming from a clutch sired by the dragon of her hated enemy. Offspring| n/a Fitting Songs| "Untouchable" by Garbage; "Sweet Sacrifice" by Evanescence; "Shot In The Dark" by Within Temptation Star Sign| Virgo (September 12) Alignment| Lawful Neutral Pet(s)| Flit(s)| n/a Lunnew(s)| n/a Wyrum(s)| n/a Edited by Khaleeco, Jan 31 2018, 09:05 PM.
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Riders Lauren, gold Vandrath-- Jr. Weyrwoman A'ron, brown Broth-- jr. weyrleader; Candidate Master Kiya, silver Anzuth-- Wingrider Livilan, silver Viliveth-- Wingrider Al'x, blue Ryogath-- Wingrider M'tho, blue Temanarth-- Wingrider Tyrina, blue Zaleoth-- Wingrider Robyn, green Caseth-- Wingrider V'thz, green Karanath-- Wingrider Y'kib brown Talsoth-- Jr. Weyrling Q'tin-- green Isometh-- Jr. Weyrling Risxthwiniatopia (Risx)-- green Valianth-- Jr. Weyrling Weyrfolk Sylvia-- Master Healer (Dragon), Master Archivist (Lunnew; Wyurm) Rinous-- Steward Zocheri-- Weyr Support Staff Weyrbrats Arilan, Benedda, Gordis, Kevarob, Myrna, Seyvia, Syloron, Tarena | |
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| Khaleeco | Nov 17 2008, 09:21 PM Post #2 |
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((Have a short story that I didn't feel like sticking in the IC boards! Yes, I have permission from Asika to have Rhiannon in here. This takes place a day or so before Kalirith's first Hatching.)) "Shaffit, girl, get a move on! We can't waste time with any laziness! There's a Hatching going to be on any day now!" Glowering green eyes looked down on the shorter steward who dared to order Zocheri around. He glared back unflinchingly; he'd long since gotten used to the intimidation tactics. "Well? You going to do something or just stand there like a half-wit? Get a move on! The lot of you!" He threw his hands up in the air at the group moving tables and chairs and the like outside from storage. They rolled their eyes while Zocheri kept up her glower. It wasn't her fault. She didn't ask for what had happened to her arm. She certainly didn't ask it to act up now, when she was busy helping the guys move things to prepare for the huge feast for this stupid Hatching. Stupid Hatching, with its stupid eggs. Who would get excited over something so foolish? Who'd want a creature like that, anyways? Always listening, always there for you. Who needed that sort of companionship? Certainly she didn't. She wasn't weak like that. She didn't need to rely on another creature. She didn't need to rely on anyone. And she certainly hadn't tried to catch glimpses of the eggs whenever she could as she walked by when she was sure no one was looking. Why would she do something like that? Sure, she dreamed of not being crippled like she was, but she certainly didn't have her perfectly healthy arms around the neck of a newborn dragonet. Why would she entertain such a stupid notion? It was stupid. She felt foolish enough dreaming of having her arm back to normal. She knew it would never be normal again, not completely. So why waste time on "what ifs"? A jolt of fresh pain in her arm jerked her back out of her mind, nearly knocking her off her feet. Sharding thing, it hurt so bad. Sure, it hurt almost every day-- it was a reassuring thing, the pain. As long as it hurt, she knew it still worked. But this, this was beyond the normal pain she could handle. This was more than gritting her teeth and going on with it. "Oi! Let's move it! You want to be chewed out again?" One boy on the other side of the table snapped at her. She growled at him, knowing her voice would betray the pain she was in. Really, with how badly the arm was shaking, betrayal wasn't anything she should've worried about. "It's too heavy for her." The other boy on her side commented. "Is not." She muttered quietly. It wasn't. Not normally, anyways. They managed to get it outside eventually, though after that Zo had to take a break. It was too much. If she continued like this she risked having her arm give out-- and if that happened, it might not come back. She couldn't have that. She was sitting on a table that had been set up, rubbing her arm under the large length of cloth that was draped over it as always. The arm was hot to the touch, tense and quivering and shaking constantly. The pain was having her nearly seeing stars, but she kept her face as straight as she could. "Thank you for the lift," a youthful man with dancing brown eyes smiled as he was assisted off a blue dragon. The dragon had just landed in the Weyrbowl, glancing around at the unfamiliar place. "No problem. I wanted to catch a glimpse of the fabled Deep Forest Weyr with my own eyes, since I know I'll never get in when the Hatching actually occurs. Amazing, isn't it? A black clutch?" "I'm only a simple Journeyman Healer, so any Hatching is amazing to me," the smiling man said, using his hands to tame his windswept light brown hair. "I'm in Fort's debt for giving me a lift." "No, no, we're always happy to help the Healercraft. A Weyr can always use the good and gentle hands of a healer, Journeyman Sansian." They nodded at each other and clasped hands before the bluerider swung back up onto his blue. "We want to get a look at this forest from above, we'll be back later." "Alright," he waved off the rider and looked around with a hearty deep breath. "Now, if I was an angry holder girl, where would I be?" He started off towards a group of workers, hoping to get his bearings and see if anyone knew where she was. "Zocheri? Why would you want to see her?" A boy asked, raising an eyebrow. "So you know her?" "Hard to miss her. Dragon of a woman. Got a temper to match broody ones, too." "She nearby?" "Uh, last I saw..." the boy scratched his head and looked around before pointing over to where the boys from before were moving stuff. "She was with them not too long ago. Go ask them. If not, go find a scrawny kid named Yankib; he always knows where she is." "Thank you," Sansian nodded and made his way over, once again receiving inquiry as to why he'd even want to talk to the girl. Another finger point later and he found himself standing in front of a girl that, while familiar, wasn't what he'd expected. Her most obvious feature, her long hair, had been cut to her chin. But it was the right coppery red-brown color. She was dressed more masculine than typical in holds but that wasn't necessarily all that different. And she still had that length of cloth. And her height. "Zocheri?" She looked up, startled slightly at being snuck up on. Curse on her lips, she became even more startled when she recognized who was there. "Healer Sansian? What are you doing here?" Ah, same green eyes and same stoic voice, too. Yep, no question, this was his holder girl. "Typically one greets another when they meet. Hello, Zocheri, it's nice to see you again. As for why I'm here: I was traveling around (as I do) and got to Ranorm Hold. Imagine my surprise to hear that a certain girl had been Searched? I came to see you on those Grounds. I'm really very prou--" "I'm not Standing." She cut him off bluntly. "Really? Well, I'm still proud you were able to be chosen. It's a rare honor. And to have two from your Hold, Ranorm is fit to burst with pride." "I bet. But I doubt the pride is any different from how it was before I left." "Still brooding over your sister's death, I see." She glared at him before looking away to watch people work. She nearly punched him when she felt her arm being grabbed. "What are you doing?!" She demanded. "Looking at your arm. You make it seem worse when you cover it up like thi-- oh! It's warm." He had flicking the cloth to the side and was now examining her arm. "Does it hurt?" "When doesn't it hurt?" She muttered, barely containing a hiss of pain, barely keeping herself from knocking him flat. "Really? The pain hasn't lessened? I would've thought..." He shook his head and continued to inspect and move her arm about, Zocheri looking anywhere but at what he was doing with a clearly irritated look on her face. "Do you mind showing me where the Healer's is? I'd like to talk with them about this. Plus, with this overcast sky, I'm sure the light is better there. Is it always like this?" "Is what always like this?" "The sky?" "Yeah. It's always like this." "How dreadful. No snow, though?" "Not often, no. Just cold and rain." Zocheri realized she actually kind of missed the snow that Fort had in the winters. "That's good. So, the healers?" "I should be helping with the work." "By sitting?" He gave her an amused look. She growled slightly but got to her feet, nodding in a direction before heading that way. Sansian followed, smiling to himself at the height of the girl-- woman?-- ahead of him. He'd always found the girl fascinating when he got to their hold. She was always a fairly tall girl, though neither he (nor the holders) ever thought she'd grow as tall as she had. Always pretty, like her sister had been. A different sort of beauty, to be sure, but beauty none the less. She was the rugged girl who worked hard and came across as the girl who would make a good wife if she'd get that temper in check. And got a bit more personable. And more polite. And acted more like a girl. And maybe smiled more often. The holders had had their faults with her listed when he had talked to them about her when he was there for an extended time to treat her injuries. But always they could never find fault with how she treated her sister and with her work ethic. They said she was like a stubborn burdenbeast. She'd go on her own and when she was good and ready to. You couldn't force her. But once she started? She'd do just fine-- better than fine, even! And she protected her sister far better than any older brother or father could boast. "Here," it was Zocheri's turn to call Sansian from his thoughts. "Hmm? Oh, the healers! Right, right," he nodded and looked around as she frowned at him and led him inside. "Hello? Anyone in? Go ahead and take a seat on a cot, Zo." She looked again like she was going to punch the man but growled instead and did as told. "Can I help you?" Sylvia's familiar voice entered the room with her. She wiped her hands on a towel while regarding the two. "Ah, hello. I'm Journeyman Heal--" "About sharding time. Rhia's been waiting for you forever!" She snapped, hands on her hips now. "And here I thought you'd be something useful, like a dragonrider. Could use a good distraction right now." "P-pardon?" Sansian looked startled and confused. "No, no you must have me confused with someone else. I'm only here for the Hat--" "The Hatching, of course. Relina forbid we have something useful turn up for once," Siv rolled her eyes. "State your business." "Well, I've been trying. I'm Journeyman Healer Sansian." "Never heard of you." "Yes, well, my grounds are normally in the Fort region. You see, I'm here to check up on Zocheri here-- I was the one who treated her ar--" "People healers!" Sylvia sighed over-dramatically and threw her hands up in the air, turning on a heel and retreating back to her office. But not before she pounded loudly on Rhia's door. "It's for you!" She shouted, shutting her own door behind her. "... Yes, well, glad to see the reputation of weyrwomen is as they say. Anyways, your arm?" He brought over several glowbaskets and took Zo's arm again, poking and prodding and generally making her want to hit him. A real shame. A terrible shame. It was bad enough that the tragedy that had happened to her tended to mentally scar the victims. But she was left with vicious physical scars that would never heal fully. A man who could take away the chance for normalcy and happiness in anyone’s' life was a man Sansian could hate. Still, Zocheri was incredibly lucky within her misfortune. She was alive and she still had her arm. "So, you're not here for a dragon?" "No," Zocheri refused to look at him, busy glaring death at a wall, feeling almost embarrassed that this was happening. "I suppose because of the nature of the injury, you wouldn't have been allowed to Stand, anyways. So then why bother coming? Surely the hold wasn't that bad?" "Oh no, it wasn't bad at all. A herd of children being led around by deluded, stupid women who all swear that a bronzerider is coming to take them away to a future of sunshine and happiness? Right. Who wouldn't want to stay there?" The sarcasm was palpable. "You can hardly fault a man for that." "I can fault a monster for it." "Zocheri, how can you still--" Sansian sighed and sat down next to her, releasing her arm from where he had been stretching it upwards. He picked up her hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb. "Kedar is a good person. Yes, he let his looks and the urges that are natural for someone at that age to go to his head. I don't agree with the lack of control he showed there. But that doesn't make him a monster. After all, didn't he get Searched and become a rider? Monsters cannot be dragonriders, Zocheri." "It does!" Zocheri exclaimed in the one rare emotion she seemed able to freely express-- raw, pained, furious anger. "He is a monster!" "It does not. Every male goes through that at that age. And, besides, he can't be a monster. Monsters cannot be dragonriders, Zocheri." "Every male does not go through that! And every male does not kill my sister!" No one else had done this to her. Just him. And always, always always always no one ever believed her. They just did as he was doing now. Patting the back of her hand and tutting gently, like she was a half-wit incapable of reason or sense. "Kedar did not kill your sister. Zocheri, we've been over this before," Sansian sighed again. "I know you were very protective of Cherora. You were the best older sister anyone could ever wish for. But no one killed Cherora. She died in child birth. It's something that happens to many women, tragically. Especially when they're young like she was. That the child did not survive either only serve to compound the loss I'm sure you and your parents felt." "She would have never died in childbirth if she would've never become pregnant! If that son of a diseased wher hadn't touched her then none of th--!" "None of this would've happened? Hardly. We can't take back the past, Zocheri. Cherora is gone, dead. So is the babe. It's been several Turns since then, you need to let it go." Zocheri ripped her hand from his grasp and glowered hate at him. "I will not 'let it go!' He killed her! He took the most precious thing I had away from me!" He took everything away from her. "He didn't do it purposely, and the boy did care for Cherora. He was very happy that they would share a child. Even promised he'd get them once he Impressed." "He tells everyone the same sharding thing! You know that here he had a greenrider? I heard that she was supposedly to have twins. You know what happened? They say she fell from her dragon and died. Kids too. He's a monster!" She did not miss having to relive and explain this pain that was so different from the physical pain of her arm. "That he's unlucky with his women is hardly grounds to call him a monster. You're trying to make it sound like he kills every woman he's ever gotten with child. Yet you said yourself that there are a 'herd' of them." "..." She turned her head to glare at the wall some more. "Did you know this greenrider?" "Of course not." Zocheri hardly knew anyone at the Weyr. "Then you can't even try to blame it on him being out to get you like you are. Things happen. Cherora died in childbirth. The greenrider had an accident during flight. Dragonriding is a difficult thing. None of this makes him a killer or a monster. You're just trying to find something to put your hurt into. Hating him is what makes sense to you." Of course it made sense to her. She had all the reasons in the world to hate him. Some of them were logical, even. Shells, most of them were logical. Just look at what he had done to her! "For what he's done, he has no right to live." Sansian sighed heavily. "We're going in circles, Zocheri. For a while there, we swore we were going to lose you. For a long while, actually. Cherora needed someone then, she needed someone to comfort her because you couldn't." "Why him, then? Why not Cheria or Zorad? Why not go to them?!" Zo demanded to know and Sansian swore he heard the slightest hint of a plea in her voice. He took her hand again. "Your parents were busy. Much as we wanted it to, life couldn't stop because of what happened to you. Your slack had to be picked up. Your parents worked to support the family and, once I arrived, I worked to keep you with us. Poor Cherora needed someone and no one was around. That he was there and so dedicated to her was the best thing for your family. Why, he'd even sit next to your bed so Cherora could rest. He saved you, Zocheri. Kedar has been nothing but a perfect gentleman for your fam-- Zocheri? Are you alright?" No, she was not alright. She was going to be sick. The idea of that... while she was helpless and dying of a fever from an infection of injuries HE had caused... next to her... "Zo? I-is the pain that bad? Hold on a second! Just hold on!" Sansian looked around rapidly for a container. He found one and made sure it was empty before handing it to Zocheri just in time. Brushing back her hair from her face, he patted her back. "It's alright. It'll be okay, just let me find some numbweed and some fellis and it'll stop." She shook her head before coughing and gasping for air. "No," She shook her head again. "I-I need the pain." "Need the pain?" Sansian looked at her curiously before going to grab a pitcher of water and a cup next to it. He filled the cup and handed it to her, taking the container in exchange and holding it up as she rinsed her mouth out and spat into it. "It's alright to admit when you're not alright you know." "No it's not," she grumbled around the rim of the cup as she sipped at the rest of the water. She looked a bit startled when he put a handkerchief of his in her face. "Wipe your nose and mouth a bit, I'll just... eh, I'll set this over here for now and find that numbweed. Maybe some fellis..." He set the container on another cot a few down from where they were and proceeded to look through some jars on a shelf. "I'm fine. You don't need to do this," Zocheri told him coldly, blowing her nose and wiping her mouth with the handkerchief. "I'm a healer, it's my job to make sure you're alright. On top of that, you're alive thanks to me, so in a way you owe me your life. That's your line of thinking, is it not?" He sounded amused. "Is not." She grumbled, not at all looking amused. "Now, where is that numbweed..." He opened up a jar and sniffed. "No, that's not it." Sansian jumped when suddenly someone loudly cleared their throat. "Can I help you?" Rhiannon stood in the entryway of the Healers, hands on her hips and not looking too pleased at finding a random stranger going through her things. "Ah, sorry. This must look rather odd, seeing me go through your things like this-- assuming that these are yours?" "Yes, they are mine. And, yes, it is rather odd. Care to explain yourself?" "Numbweed?" He asked sheepishly. "I hid it after A'ron tried to take it for some prank he wanted to play on the candidates. Why do you need it?" "We don't," Zo informed the healer. "Don't mind her, she's just a bit grumpy from pain is all. I need it for her arm." "Good for you. You still haven't explained why you're here." "Typically people looking for healing come to the Healer's, yes?" Zocheri's stoic tone made the dripping sarcasm more biting. Rhia leveled a look at her before regarding Sansian again. "I suggest you state what you're doing here before I feed you to Delrith." "Dragon's don't eat people," both replied. "You've never seen Delrith, then." "Yes, well, I'm Journeyman Healer Sansian from Fort." "You're not my new journeyman." "No, no I'm not. I was just traveling to check on Zocheri here. I initially treated her arm and I saw it's still a rather large problem for her. So I only did what was natural for a healer." "That makes sense, then," Rhia nodded. "You should've sought me out however." "The Dragonhealer, she said you were in your office..." Sansian pointed behind himself towards the offices. "Yes, well, Sylvia doesn't pay attention to much besides her hides and whoevers bedding her at the moment." Rhia shrugged before going to the back to grab the numbweed. She handed it to him along with some redwort. "Rhiannon." "Excuse me?" "Rhiannon. I'm Master Healer Rhiannon. I prefer to go by Rhia, however." Sansian nearly dropped the jars in his hands. "R-rhia? As in, the brilliant young Master who's also managed in her young life to also reach rank with dragonhealing? That Rhia?" "I wouldn't call myself brilliant, but I suppose yes, that Rhia." She pointed at her knots, a bit baffled. "I-it's a pleasure to meet you! I've always idolized someone who can get so far in their young lives with the craft. And dragonhealing? Amazing, always learning. We must be similar in age yet I'm still a Journeyman while you... you..." "If she's so sharding great, what is she doing here?" Zo wanted to know, irritated that she was dragged here only to be ignored. "I ask myself the same thing everyday," Rhia sighed. "But really, I'm not that great. I'm just a healer. Honestly, I didn't think I would be that famous." "Several masters frequently talk about you. It's not many who work with both crafts and gets knots in both." "It just takes dedication, that's all." "And a good master!" Sylvia shouted from her back room. "Though sub-par ones apparently do in a pinch." She called back cheerfully, receiving a cursing in reply which only served to make her grin. "In any case, I'm really only a healer." "Modest and brilliant. You truly are something for healers to look upon." "... Sure. Alright then, well, I'll be over here if you need anything further," Rhia gave him a funny look before going off to check on the silverrider that was a permanent feature of the healers. "I had no idea that the Rhiannon was here!" Sansian told Zocheri excitedly. "I don't see how that's so great? Great people don't end up here." "Oh, stop being such a downer. This place doesn't seem bad at all. Everyone's been friendly. Though perhaps a bit forward." He sat down next to Zo and coated his hands in redwort. "Now then, let me see your arm." "No." "Zocheri, come on now, be a good patient and let me see your arm. You want the pain to stop right?" "No. Stop treating me like a child." "You're behaving like one. Here," he snatched her arm and opened the jar of numbweed. "Don't you want the pain to stop?" "I already said no," she muttered, again looking anywhere but at him and her arm. "It won't take it all away, anyway." "Then why not use it to take some of it away?" "What's the point if it still hurts?" "I don't see why you keep punishing yourself and others. There is only one person to blame for any of it, if you really need to put the blame somewhere. It's just that no one knows who he is," he told her soothingly, smiling as he noticed a visible relaxation of her form as he slathered the cream on to her scarred and damaged left arm, massaging the tissue. "There, isn't that better?" "No. I hate how numbweed feels. And it still hurts." The massage hurt. But it also felt good, in a way. It'd been a long time since she'd had one done on her arm. It helped to distract from her anger over having to listen to yet another person being blind to the truth of matters. Of course she knew who had done this to her. She'd told everyone who had done this to her. No one listened. No one wanted to hear the truth. They wanted to hear what was convenient. Then they wondered why she was upset at everything and everyone? "We can get you some fellis for the rest of the pain. That should deaden most of the rest of it. Does willow tea do anything for you? I don't think it would, given the injury, but it couldn't hurt." "I don't want any fellis. I'd rather feel the pain. I'd rather know that my arm still works." "You act so tough all the time. Really, all this pain all the time can't be good for you. You should lighten up." "I'll get right on that," she sneered. He chuckled, continuing to do a deep tissue massage her arm. The silence of the room, minus the occasional sounds common to the Healers, continued on for several minutes before Sansian cleared his throat. "What color would you ride?" "Pardon?" She looked over at him. "What color?" "Color what?" "Dragon, you dimglow," he teased light-heartedly. "What color dragon would you ride?" "I wouldn't ride a dragon. I've never wanted to be a dragonrider." "Everyone secretly wishes that they rode a dragon. I always fancied myself a brownrider, but everyone I asked said I would end up a blue. What color do you think I'd ride? Or what color would you like to ride?" "Who cares?" What in the world was this inane small talk? Why couldn't he just leave them to sit in awkward silence? "Come on, what color?" "I don't know." "What? Don't know the colors?" "No. Why would I need to know something stupid like that?" Why was he insisting on talking? She just wanted him to go away and let her get back to work. Or back to her room. All this talk and reminder of Ranorm was putting her in a decidedly poor mood. "It's not that many. Here, I'll play Harper and teach you. There's green and blue, silver, brown, bronze, copper and gold. Then there's those unusual ones, white and black. That's the ten of the-- wait." He released her arm and counted off on his hands, mumbling over each name. "There's nine again, there's one other color..." "Red." "Ah! Yes! There's the ten. And here you said you didn't know the colors." "I didn't say that. And any dimglow who's listened to a Harper just once knows the colors." "Of course, of course," he grinned happily as he got up to wash his hands, shaking his head at her grunt of a reply. Once washed, he watched her inspecting her arm for another few minutes in that awkward silence before sitting down on the other side of her. "Feels better?" "No." "Of course," he smiled again; she was always such a negative girl. "You know, you would've made an excellent aunt." Her stiffened posture and sharp glare in his direction signaled he had just spoiled the mood, but no matter. "You would have. Who best to raise a little version of your little sister than you?" "I would've never touched something so vile," she spat. Sansian was taken aback by the words. "What is so vile about a child? You can't-- you do," he sighed again. "You'd blame him for the Red Star if you could." "Would not. You can't blame the child for creating the parent." "Kedar is not a child of the Red Star. Really now, this is ridiculous. It would've been your duty to love and take care of that child if it had lived." "I don't want a creature like that. I want my sister." "Do you listen to yourself? You really need to let this go, Zocheri. It's not healthy." "You brought it back up." "You really would have nothing to do with your nephew?" "Who said it was to be a boy?" "It's generally good luck to assume so." "Did the little bastard a whole lot of good, didn't it?" "It-It's a manner of speaking, Zocheri. But the point stands. Would you really have nothing to do with your nephew should he have lived?" "No. That would be Cheria's job." "Cherora wanted to know the child would be protected. She felt you were the best thing in this world to protect her flesh and blood. She talked on and on about how you would watch him while he helped you with chores. She said he'd call you Auntie Zoe." "Only Cherora is-- was allowed to call me that!" Zocheri snapped, and he heard that raw pain in her voice again. "I think the name Zoe is pretty. Not that Zocheri itself isn't!" "It's a name. Who cares if it sounds pretty or not. I don't want to be referred to as that, so you will not call me that. Or I'll hit you." "Alright, alright. I get the point," he chuckled and patted her shoulder. "You're weird," she frowned down at the hand on her shoulder and back up at him. "You'd fit in here. This entire place is full of weird people." "Do you like weird?" "No." "Huh, well, then I'll have to be less weird so that you'll like me?" She raised an eyebrow at him in confusion. Despite herself, she felt some heat come to her cheeks. "Why would you want me to like you?" She tch'd and looked back down to her arm. "You really are weird." "I like your hair how it is. I miss it up, though." "Long hair was a nuisance," what even was this conversation? He had just shown up, messed with her arm, and now was making inane small talk that made no sense. "H-hey! What are you doing? Stop that!" Sansian had moved so that he was gathering her hair up into a short runner's tail. "There! You look really cute that way. You should wear your hair like this, it makes you more approachable." "I don't want to be approachable! Let go of my hair!" She demanded and he let it go, sitting back and chuckling. "You really would be a very nice girl if you just lightened up a bit and smiled more." "My sister's dead and I'm crippled for the rest of my life. I fail to see what there is to be 'light' about." This healer needed to go throw himself between. "Look to the brighter side of things. You're alive and in good health, all things considered. You're living in a Weyr, which is what many people dream of. Your sister died, yes. The child died, yes. These things happen. It doesn't matter who the father of the child was. She was just unfortunate to have died in childbirth. She would not have wanted you to become like this over it. Cherora would've wanted you to go on and live your life." "What would you know about Cherora? How would you know anything?" She demanded. "Why do you insist on making it this hard for yourself? Do you want people to feel sorry for you? Is that it?" Sansain frowned at her. He really was tired of this circle they kept going in. "W-what? No! Why would I want anyone feeling sorry for me? I left to get away from people feeling sorry for me! I didn't ask for this!" "I know that," he sighed and shook his head briefly before looking back at her with an apologetic smile. "I know that no one asks for this sort of thing to happen to themselves. No one should ever even wish what has happened to you on anyone," he grabbed her hands in his. "Zocheri, you're a wonderfully strong, beautiful, courageous girl. You've dealt with so much in your young life yet you still stand so strong. I've watched you struggle for every breath. I've watched you amazingly defy the odds and recover. I watched as you realized you're arm might never be the same but you didn't even shed a tear. Not a one. Even as your sister wept for you. As your parents wept. I wish desperately that I was there when your sister was in labor. I really do. I would've given anything to have been there to console you. When I heard what had happened, I knew you would be crushed. I knew it. I had only hoped that the child had survived so that you would have something-- anything!-- to comfort yourself with. Zocheri, I..." He trailed off, looking at her hesitantly before leaning in and pressing his lips against hers. Too surprised to pull back, Zocheri sat there, wide-eyed, her hands in his, his lips against hers. He was... kissing her? Why was he kissing her? What in the world was going on? What was happening? He pulled away and smiled at her look before a moment of realization passed over his face and he drew his hands back, moving back to give her space. "A-ah! I'm so sorry! I-I shouldn't have-- ar-are you okay?" "Y-yeah..." Zocheri nodded, placing her fingers on her lips. "Yeah, I'm fine." By the Egg, what in the world had just happened? This day had taken a decidedly weird direction. "Forgive me. I shouldn't have-- that was very inconsiderate of me." "No, it... it's fine," she felt some heat on her cheeks again and looked down at her lap, away from the fidgeting and blushing healer. They sat in a long, awkward silence that dragged on until, finally, Sansian cleared his throat. "I... I'm sorry, Zocheri. I should not have kissed you." What was he doing? What was he thinking, kissing her? What if she had a flashback to the attack?! What would she think now? He... stupid! Stupid Sansian! He couldn't deny that he loved his tall, stoic, negative but still so beautiful Zocheri. He couldn't deny that one of the reasons he had come here was to ask for her hand in marriage. He wanted to travel with her, hoping to give her a sense of normalcy while he tried to fix her arm and get a master's knot. He could see the picture of happiness in his head but knew it would never be anything like that. Zocheri was not the type to be a submissive wife. She probably wouldn't even accept his proposal. She was stubborn like that. And he was almost a decade older than she was. And besides! What about Rhia? With such a talented healer and in a place like a Weyr... they could provide so much more for Zocheri than he ever could. He would be dragging her around the Fort region, never able to settle down. Traveling wasn't something holdbred took to readily. He could never abandon the holds to choose just one. And traveling with children would be hard, if not impossible. That was selfish of him... he couldn't do that to her and their future children. "Stop apologizing already. You're weird," she glared at him, though it wasn't a harsh glare. He smiled at that. Sansian reached over to place a hand on her cheek, but she swatted it away. "What is with you?" "What is with me?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm sorry to have been such a bother. I promise I'm not trying to be weird. You don't like weird, right?" "Yeah." Shells, he was being so very, very weird. He got to his feet and ruffled her hair, grinning at her growl and turning to face Rhia. "I seem to have bothered you quite a bit today. I apologize. I also seem to have lost track of time. My ride is probably wondering where I got off to." "It's not problem at all, we've dragons as well that could take you back to Fort," Rhia replied, trying to act like she hadn’t noticed what had just occurred. Men. "Oh, no, I wouldn't want to trouble another Weyr. I really should be going, though..." "Sansian?" He looked over at Zocheri, who looked like she was still trying to process what had happened to her. She'd just said his name! That really shouldn't have gotten his heart racing like it should. He liked the way his name sounded when she said it. "Yes?" "You're... you're right, I guess. What you said today makes a lot of sense, in a way. I guess. Cherora wouldn't want me to act like I am over her... I should let her name rest in peace. Nothing I do will ever bring her back to me, nor will it ever make the pain of losing her go awa--!!" She was startled as he suddenly pulled to her feet and into a hug, blushing while also feeling a sudden violent urge to deck him. Sansian himself felt a sudden, not at all violent urge to propose to her regardless of what he had just sworn. And couldn't stop himself from kissing her again. He knew! Knew that if she would just lighten up a bit that she could be reasonable, she would see how harboring those feelings was hurting her more than anyone. She shoved him away and glared at him. "Let go of me! What is with you?" "Sorry," he smiled at her before looking again at Rhia. "Take care of her? Make sure she doesn't get into too much trouble? She can be stubborn." "She's not my responsibility?" Rhia said, a bit baffled as to why he would come here, kiss her, clearly show an interest in her, and then leave her behind. She sighed and chalked it up to men being fools. "I can look after her arm, I suppose." "Thank you. It means a lot to me," Sansian looked back to Zocheri and reached for her hands, though she withdrew them before he could grab them again. "I suppose it'll be much harder for me to visit you here, Zocheri. But I'll try. I'll try to see you at least once a Turn. I have to make sure that arm gets better, right?" Thinking of spending Turnover together with her, even if it was just Turnover, appealed greatly to him. He knew he'd just told himself that he couldn't be selfish and marry her but... he really did want that. He'd wanted to marry her since she first blossomed into a woman but had always figured someone else would sweep her away before he could work the nerve up to ask. But Masterhealer Rhiannon here, in a Weyr, was the best place for her. He knew he could get quite a few steps forward into walking the tables to his next knot if he focused on rehabilitation of her arm and presented the findings. It was the best project he could think of. But having a masterhealer around to help was what was best for the young woman. His violent, short tempered holder girl. "I guess?" What was he rambling on about now? Fardles he was just way, way too weird. "Zocheri?" "Yes?" "W-would you mind if I could call you Zoe?" "Yes." "What would you do if I did call you that?" "... If you want to call me that that badly, I guess you can? I'll likely hit you, though." Why was this so important to him? It was just a name. One she hated being called. Because it always seemed like people were talking down to her when they used it. Cherora could call her that because, well, it was Cherora. She could do whatever she wanted. "It's such a pretty nickname," he smiled. He recalled when they first met. He was 20 and had his brand new knots on his shoulder. His first visit to Ranorm Hold and he spotted the then 13 Turn old girl (though she certainly looked older than that) carrying a heavy metal tub off towards the creek some ways outside the hold. He had asked if she needed any help and got those deep green eyes glaring up at him and a cold "no". He asked her name and she demanded to know why he wanted it. Then gave it anyway. Sansian had introduced himself and said that her name was pretty and if he could call her Zoe. He clearly recalled the pain from the kick she'd given to his leg-- she nearly knocked out his knee cap and put him permanently out of a traveling job. She told him quite clearly that no one was allowed to call her that and that her name was Zocheri. If he felt that he had to call her something else, then he should call her Zo. At the time, he thought he had bitten off way more than he could chew with his job. But then that little firelizard of a girl, well, flitted towards them, her strawberry blonde hair bouncing behind her. She called out to Zocheri, calling her Zoe, and the girl smiled and called back that she was coming. Hoisting up the tub, she hurried to catch up to meet the girl, taking the things Cherora was carrying as well as her tub. That was really the only time he saw her smile, with her sister. Being allowed to call her Zoe really did mean a lot. To both of them. "Well, Zoe, I'd better go. I know I'll never get in during the Hatching, but I'll try to see you again before next Turnover. If not, then I'll definitely make time to see you then. Deal?" "I guess? You're weird." "But I'm a good weird, right?" He chuckled and kissed the top of her head, chuckling even more at the irritated look she gave him. "Good bye, Zoe. I'll see you again." He looked over at Rhia and bowed slightly. "Master Rhiannon, I hope you continue to do well.” "Same for you," Rhia nodded and watched as he left to make his way to the Bowl to find that bluerider ride of his, reminded again of why she preferred living in a Weyr. The men were less stupid. Well, stupid in a different way, anyway. "Yeah? I guess?" Zocheri cocked her head to the side, baffled as she watched him leave. Realizing she was just staring and not doing anything, she shifted her length of cloth back into its proper place over her arm and moved to leave herself. "Where do you think you're going?" Rhia asked. "Back outside. I need to get back to work" "With nearly an entire arm covered in numbweed? Hardly." Rhia snorted and pointed back at the bed. "Sit down and relax for a while. You're no good to anyone out there with an arm like that." Zocheri looked for a moment like she was going to ignore Rhia, maybe even hit her, then sat back on the bed with a grunt. Sitting gave her time to reflect on the events of the day and, after a few candlemarks, she finally left the healers. Rhia had inspected her arm, wondering how a patient could be both difficult and obedient at the same time. And also why she hadn't been seeing her sooner for an injury like this. She received a scolding or two from stewards as she made her way to the living quarters, heading to the cavern that she shared with several others girls and heading to the curtained off area in the back. Zocheri made a mental note that the other girls were all out as she unbuckled and removed the length of cloth from her arm and settled on her cot, running her hand through her hair. Up, huh? Maybe she'd try that? It'd make it stop itching her neck. And it'd been a while since she had had a runner's tail. Sighing, she relaxed against the wall at the head of her bed, reassuring surges of pain signaling that the numbweed was wearing off. Stupid numbweed. She told him that it wasn't any good. What good was it if it only took away some of the pain? Some pain was still pain. It was all a waste. And felt weird. She blushed suddenly as the memory of Sansian's first surprise kiss passed through her mind. A hand touched her lips again. So that was what it was like to be kissed? "My first kiss," she whispered to herself, feeling suddenly both giddy and foolish. And yet she didn't care that was how she felt. It felt pretty good, actually. It felt... normal. She brushed her fingers over her lips, swearing she could still smell the crisp, clean, almost antiseptic scent of the healer. What a wonderful feeling... A rather severe jolt of pain in her arm jerked her from the thoughts and she frowned down at the scaring on her arm. Another jolt went through her suddenly, not of pain but of horror. Memories flashed through her head, images that haunted her dreams and that she wished she could forget. The pain, the sharp metallic stench of her blood in the air, the fear that made the hair on her neck stand up, the sharp pain of the rocks on the shore digging into her back... ...And the roughness of that mouth being crushed against hers. She lurched forward and bent double over the edge of her bed, feeling like she would throw up. She held her stomach as she dry heaved, coughed and spluttered. When it passed, she rolled onto her side, curling up and feeling a strong urge to cry. Everything normal. Gone. Even something as trivial, as silly, as a first kiss. Her life had been completely ruined. She gave into her tears, crying in anguish over the normal life taken from her. She would never be a normal girl. She would never be able to experience the life that a normal girl would find so boring and dull. It had all been denied to her. Denied and replaced with empty feelings of disgust, anger, hatred, and rage. She was going to make that son of a wher pay for it all. Every single thing taken from her. ((2017 Update mental notes!: Argh! Sansian was first written as a sort of dorky but good guy there as a throwaway plot device. Now that I'm older and as my head wrote and expanded on it... argh. Blegh. Ew. I just wanted to drag him away from Zo. Argh! Stop touching her! Stop pressuring her about a nickname! Stop deciding that you're already married and talking about already having kids!! Stop thinking about how her injuries could help you progress in your craft! You mean it all innocently! I know you do! But it's fucking creepy and weird and asjdhasjkdhasjkdhasjkd. )) |
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Riders Lauren, gold Vandrath-- Jr. Weyrwoman A'ron, brown Broth-- jr. weyrleader; Candidate Master Kiya, silver Anzuth-- Wingrider Livilan, silver Viliveth-- Wingrider Al'x, blue Ryogath-- Wingrider M'tho, blue Temanarth-- Wingrider Tyrina, blue Zaleoth-- Wingrider Robyn, green Caseth-- Wingrider V'thz, green Karanath-- Wingrider Y'kib brown Talsoth-- Jr. Weyrling Q'tin-- green Isometh-- Jr. Weyrling Risxthwiniatopia (Risx)-- green Valianth-- Jr. Weyrling Weyrfolk Sylvia-- Master Healer (Dragon), Master Archivist (Lunnew; Wyurm) Rinous-- Steward Zocheri-- Weyr Support Staff Weyrbrats Arilan, Benedda, Gordis, Kevarob, Myrna, Seyvia, Syloron, Tarena | |
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11:05 AM Jul 11