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a desert triumvirate of Hold, Weyr, and Mine. Thread's return and bandit raiding brought strife between weyr and hold, but the bandits' recent defeat has returned the region to an uneasy peace. Now, a shipwreck on a forgotten continent and the decision to settle this rediscovered land has opened up a world of opportunity to Vaioa, if only they can handle the dangers.








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Full Circle; Standalone/Open
Topic Started: Dec 18 2015, 10:46 AM (181 Views)
Tesla
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The Celibate Scientist
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Backdated - takes place shortly before the Troop moves South.

Jamphel was a fool, and this was never going to work.

Of the whers Vaioa had confiscated from Terema's bandits, only one remained unbonded after all this time. Standing at the entrance to its pen, peering in through the bars, it was easy to see why this one had been passed up time and again. It looked ridiculous.

Even the cage’s thick shadows couldn't conceal the wher’s light, almost pretty coloring, so out of place on its wrinkled and ugly hide. It was small, too, unintimidating for more than just that pastel shade of blue. What was worse, though, for all that it might have been an attractive thing as whers went, the little fardler was mean. It'd taken one look at her standing outside the pen and started snarling, eyes simmering red and shoulders hunched. The thing was nasty. It was pouty.

This, obviously, was a creature that had no desire to re-bond after its tie with the former handler had been so hastily severed. Some short little shaffit - Jerund, he'd said his name was – had brought her down here to show the beast off, as though this sour-tempered brute had any selling points at all. He’d insisted it was a perfectly good wher, could be an asset to Vaioa’s precious little ‘troop’ if only given a chance, etc. Avry might have been amused, if she wasn't so thoroughly put off by this entire transaction. What in Faranth's name was she going to do with a wher? Jamphel was an idiot. She should never have come to Vaioa to begin with.

Scowling at the periwinkle menace in the corner, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and thought about leaving. She hadn’t paid anyone yet, and while most of her ill-gotten Keroon money had been left with Orphel and the caravan, she had enough with her to last another few months – longer, if she was careful with it. She could be halfway to Rubikon come morning. They were sure to be in need of workers over there, after the bandit fiasco. The execution of their Lord would have thrown the whole place into turmoil, and that in turn would make it vulnerable – easily taken advantage of. This wher wasn’t worth her marks, Jam was a turncoat and a tailfork, and this new Southern continent sounded like a wretched place anyway.

But nothing about this situation put her off quite as much as imagining this monster’s former handler - the bandit that might have taken her brother from her. The bandit who, at the very least, could easily have been there the day her caravan was attacked. Of course, the chances this hypothetical person had ever set eyes on Avlen at all were vanishingly small, but Avry couldn’t know for sure. Her own memories of the incident were fairly hazy – not because they were painful (though they were), but simply because the raid had been such a scene of chaos. She hadn’t found Avlen until it was all over; she hadn’t seen is attacker at all. It could have been anyone.

And here she was on the cusp of handing over her hard-earned cash – and for what? Another tool those spineless bitrans had used in their foolish crusade against Hall and Hold? And such a puny, ugly one at that.

Don’t want. Get LOST.
The words startled her from her reverie; blinking her surroundings back into focus, she saw that the wher had drawn nearer. It now stood beside the gate, the better to glower at her through the bars, presumably. Its lips were pulled back in a snarl, still, the white of its teeth winking at her out of the darkness.

After a moment, when she didn’t respond or retreat, it lunged; the bars shook with the force of the impact, and it shoved its muzzle against the slats, bellowing. The voice came again, louder:
DON’T WANT.
“I don’t want you either, you dreadful little brat,” she hissed back – and watched, with no small measure of satisfaction, as the blue huffed, stood up straighter. She’d surprised it, and while the anger wasn’t gone, it dialed back so quickly she was suddenly sure it had been bravado more than genuine temper.
Why?
Then why was she here?, he meant, though she didn’t know how she knew it. She certainly didn’t know why, with the blue’s attention focused on her, thoughts of Rubikon suddenly seemed very far away.
“They’re talking about sending most of you away,” she said, and then faltered, unsure how to explain herself.
To the new place.
“Uh huh.”
Won’t help, he denied with a snarl, tossing his head, though he stubbornly resisted the urge to pace the length of his cage. She didn’t know how she knew that, either. All stupid. Stupid Vaioa people.

But she was not a Vaioan person and, though he tracked her every movement with suspicion, he seemed to understand at least that much about her.
“You’re stupid too, pouting in here all day like a baby. They’ll kill you if you don’t make yourself useful, you know?”
They could try, he dismissed, suddenly haughty, and puffed out his chest.
“Stupid,” she scolded again. “But you’ll be my ticket out of here. I want to leave.”
Don’t care. Don’t want you, he said again, though perhaps with less conviction than before. His eyes, while still red, were not as livid, did not churn as quickly.

Avry was undeterred. She had forgotten that Jam’s idea was foolish, that she didn’t want to go South anyway. She pressed on:
“You have to take my name, don’t you? Isn’t that how it works?”
He was silent for a long time. Minutes passed, while they stood and glowered at one another. Avry wasn’t thinking about a bond, about being a handler. She was thinking instead about how badly she wanted Jam to get off her case, about how tired she was with the threat of discovery - possibly arrest - hanging over her head. This wher, improbable though it seemed, could very well be the answer to both of these problems. He didn’t want a new handler, but then, she didn’t really want a wher. She wanted what wherhandling could do for her, the opportunities it would afford her in the future. She couldn’t know whether the blue understood any of this – and if he did, what he thought of it – but eventually, with a grudging lightness in his tone, he conceded:

Ask.
“Ridiculous,” Avry scoffed, but she was already moving to unlatch the gate.

Posted Image

Elmi & Garnet Basteth | Az'riel & Copper Liyanth
Singrid & Copper Wiliath | J'nai & Brown Elokith
Caylan & Grey Parath | El'jir & Blue Morrith
Savka & Blue Ripariath | N'din & Green Ingalath
J'phel & Black Davoth | I'vend & Graphite Rerioth
Sankal & Black Sansk | Avry & Blue Ask

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