==== January 11, 2014
==== Jhael, Zalara , Erissa
==== Things go from bad to worse when Jhael pushes Erissa too far. Zalara is at a loss.

Who Jhael, Zalara, Erissa
What Things go from bad to worse when Jhael pushes Erissa too far. Zalara is at a loss.
When It is the 36th day of Autumn.
Where Dustbowl Cantina and Back Alley, Igen Weyr

jhael5.jpg Zalara-Bonnie.jpg erissa.jpg




It is afternoon.
There are 0 turns, 2 months and 24 days until the 12th pass.
It is the thirty-sixth day of Autumn and 60 degrees. It is a clear night.

There isn't much that will grow in the heat of the desert, but enough does for the Cantina's garden to have food in it. With the shadows deepening few people venture back here except the cooks which must throw out what little bits are not used. A skinny teen roots around in the guarden, pulling up a plant and stuffing it into his face. His eyes, meanwhile are on the backdoor ready to run the moment someone should exit.

Low mutterings accompany the arrival of a tall, blond rider, the words incoherent but the tone apparent enough. Not good. Not good at all. Once in view, Erissa's expression confirms the impression as pretty features are scrunched into obvious disgust. Leaving the midden behind, she comes to the garden and finally stops what seems to be headlong progress, straightening her spine, lifting her chin, and drawing in a long, deep breath. Letting it out with gusto she declares, "Great Faranth but that place stinks!!" Movement is spotted out of the corner of her eye. Tone still tinged with a crabby timbre for the stench in her nose she demands, "Who're you?"

Zalara has a small box in her arms and she looks around as she has been walking through the back alley. The box is full of good smelling items and she looks around for Jhaed as this was the last place that she saw the poor boy.

The moment that the door had begun to swing open the ex-trader lad is lunging upwards, his barefeet crushing one of the small plants. Movement second nature to the waif he is heading down the ally a second later, not even taking a moment to look at who has exited the doorway. But… Zalara. Jhael's gaze narrows as he makes a split second decision. The allyway is too narrow for him to get around the girl and burden, so he does an abrupt about face and aims his skinny body right for the doorway into the cantina and perhaps freedom beyond it.

Ok, that does it! Bad enough Erissa got herself lost in the twist and turns of the bazaar, then that she ended up in the midden of all places, but now to have this waif of a boy ignore her when she speaks to him is the last straw! As he moves to go right past her and dodge in to the Cantina she darts out an arm and grabs the scruff of his neck, strong fingers curling into the collar of his shirt and hauling him up short. "I SAID, who are you?" she repeats, blue-gray hues narrowing as she gets a better look at him. Aaaaaand a better smell. Nose wrinkling she rears her head back. "Shard it, you're as bad as the midden!" she blurts. Having turned her head slightly she catches sight of more movement, though this time she at least recognizes the face. Mental logs flip, coming up with a name. "Hey Zalara. Better stay back."

Zalara blinks as she sees Jhael, "Jhael wait I have some food for you!" She calls out to him and she hurries towards him. "It's okay Erissa that's just Jhael he's having a bad time we need to try to help him."

The moment the hand has attached itself to his neck and he is jerked momentarily off his feet Jhael turns to action. Even as Zalara calls out his name the dirty teen is turning into the arm his teeth reaching towards that white skin which holds him. If the bite connects it will be with vicious force, it is meant to hurt, not warn.

A perplexed look of disbelief strikes Erissa's features as Zalara speaks up, the skinny mutt in her grip given an extra tug for good measure. "Are you serious?" she says with a light snort. Deep blue hues shift from the girl she knows to the boy she doesn't just in time to catch that viscious twist of his. Thankfully she's wearing her usual black riding jacket so all that is exposed is her wrist, and that's tucked well behind the lad's head. The flash of teeth makes his intent clear, however, so before he can make a connection she jerks his collar hard and lifts it higher. She isn't strong enough to raise him off his feet one-handed but she can put him on his bare little tootsies, at least. "KNOCK THAT OFF!" she shouts directly. "Try something like that again and I'll feed you to my dragon, boy! You got that?"

Zalara hurries up, "Jhael don't bite people, come on I got you some good food to eat. Please have some. I know you are upset, but you are killing yourself, you look like your nothing more then skin and bones."

"Don't f*king care about your stupid dragon. And screw you Zalara, I don't need your help." Jhael spits out as he continues to try to twist in the strong grip of the rider, to get away. His motion stops for one brief moment as he thinks then he sags allowing all of his weight to fall suddenly onto Erissa's grip.

"Oh no?" Erissa counters, a touch of evil amusement quirking a pale brow. "Well maybe you should know that Danorath is especially fond of skinny little brats, especially if I sprinkle a little seasoning and dunk'em in flour first. Maybe you and I should take a walk inside to the kitchens together, hm, boy?" As he slumps and makes himself a lump of dead weight she drops him back down, though only to her own arm's length. The rigors of a rider's life provide a well-toned physique, easily managing to maintain a hold on the shifty rat. One booted foot jabs the side of the boy's leg. "And don't talk to Zalara like that! In fact, you apologize right now!"

Zalara moves over towards Jhael and she sets down the box of delicious smells, "It's okay Jhael is sad, but he just needs someone to care about him. I forgive you Jhael will you please take the box of food. I don't want to see you eating out of the midden."

No matter how good the box smells, Jhael isn't going to attempt to take it with the rider's grip tight enough that it will probably leave bruises on his neck. "If dragons ate people they wouldn't let us near the pens." Jhael spits this out, as he goes back to trying to twist in her grip. He manages to turn just enough to aim a kick at the rider's leg, right under the knee.

Erissa ignores Zalara's efforts for the time being, not about to agree with her view of the boy. Couldn't she see he was obviously a menace?? "That," she tells him with a dangerous lowering of her tone, "Is only because you make a smaller target than the wherries in the pens. All by yourself, however, you'd make a tasty appetizer." Quite pleased with herself for that one, the bluerider turns to say something to Zalara only to find her shin suddenly flaring with pain. OUCH! Instantly bending forward with a loud grunt she almost loses her grip but anger slams a rush of adrenaline through her system and instead she hauls the little brat up again, albeit while severely favoring the throbbing leg. "You lousy little pile of wherry shit!" she shouts, shaking him hard, "I am going to wring your sorry little neck!" No one has ever accused Erissa of being good with children.

Zalara winces as she sees the rider get kicked, "Jhael! That is not how your relative would want you to treat a rider and I'm sure if they could see you right now they'd be very disappointed. You are so proud of your heritage, but what are you doing? Are you carrying on their traditions? Are you working to show that your family is the best? No you are wallowing in the midden so that everyone will see what happens when your family runs into hard times they just give up and are just a dirty people who pick through the garbage. You have a proud heritage to live up to. If you don't start acting better right now you have no right to your heritage any more."

Erissa's shaking is enough to leave Jhael slightly dazed, some of the fight taken out of him just for a moment. Or he's just taking a breather. Zalara draws his gaze from where he half kneels on the ground, the anger flickering in his eyes. His tongue darts across painfully chapped lips as he attempt to draw up enough moisture to spit at the Smith girl's feet. "I don't care. I'm never going back to them anyway. You, the weyr, the bazaar the caravan, you can all die for all I care. I don't need your f*king charity, I've never needed it. The caravan's better off without me anyway." He finally gathers enough moisture and ends his defiant rant with a glob hitting right in front of Zalara.

Heritage? Traditions? What is Zarlara blathering on about? Erissa pays it no heed, not caring a whit about why the boy is acting the way he is. He tried to bite her and then he kicked her! His ass was grass, and she was gonna mow it!! His angry rebuttal only stirs the pot more, the disrespectful spit he throws at Zalara snapping her last thread of control. "You ungrateful little wretch!" she hollars. "If you hate it here so much then why don't you just leave?? Quit wasting the time of good people like Zalara here who only wants to help you for some unfathomable reason. No, you know what? You've decided to stick around and this is my home now so I'll not have you skulking around stinking it up." That said, she stalks with a limp toward the Cantina, forcibly dragging him right along with her.

You go to the Dustbowl Cantina.


Dustbowl Cantina

To enter the Dustbowl Cantina is to descend: the heart of the ancient tavern lies half underground, at the foot of ancient steps, insulated from summer heat and winter cold by the volcanic rock surrounding it. A windowless place well-lit by glows, it is homey, even cozy, with a certain bijou charm - but for the deep gouges worn in wooden table and solid stone, some clearly lingering evidence of boisterous brawling. The wall behind the well-polished bar, though, remains free from scars or graffiti, as does the door into the small kitchen, and the stairwell up into the owner's quarters: the barkeep and his staff reign, and they guard their territory well. After all, only a fool angers the source of the booze.

Jhael walks in from the Cantina Back Alley.

Zalara walks in from the Cantina Back Alley.

Zalara follows after the other two as she had to pick up the box of food. She watches Erissa drag Jhael to the Cantina and she winces a little bit.

Jhael does not at all cease to struggle against the woman's arm. "I am trying to you stupid rider!" He reaches out to try to scratch at her, and if the change presents itself to land another kick at those legs which pull him along. "Let me alone and I'll go back to doing just that!"

Erissa doesn't stop once they are inside the Cantina but marches right to the kitchen, shoving open the door and going inside. Air hisses past clenched teeth several times as the feisty boy's resistance connects, hitching her progress but not stopping it. Once in the small kitchen she heads straight to the back, shooting a growled, "Pardon us!" to the startled cook chopping tubers. Finding a large sink she spies a bucket of sudsy water, perhaps used to clean the floor recently or meant for dishes. It doesn't matter though because she picks it up with her free hand and summarily dumps the entire thing over Jharl's head. Taking advatage of her momentum she shoves him down to the floor, straddles his hips, grabs a thick handbrush that fell out of the bucket and starts to scrub his head with it. "Maybe you'll be a little nicer if you aren't so stinkin' dirty!" she yells at him, viciously attacking any signs of grime.

Zalara follows along after the pair and she puts the box of food on a counter. She winces as she sees Jhael handled so roughly. She sighs softly, "Please don't be too rough with him. You don't want to hurt him. Jhael don't try to hurt her either." She shifts back and forth as she doesn't know what to do, she wants to see Jhael clean and happy, but she doesn't think this is the right way to go about it.

This was not how Jhael had intended to spend his time. A mouthful of food taken from the garden, perhaps something gleaned from what is tossed into the midden. An impromptu WASH… no. As soap wets his clothing he wiggles violently, kicking and scratching even as soap burns into his eyes and drips down his back leaving muddy streaks on his skin and the floor of the kitchen. The slipperiness is exactly what the trader boy needs though, to finally wriggle out of Erissa's grasp. He scrambles out of her hold and to his feet, only to slip and crash hard onto the stone ground. A hiss of pain interrupts any swearing that might have been directed to either Zalara or the rider. Pushing himself to his feet again he is running towards the doorway and shoving that cook out of the way and hopefully into Zalara's path so that the smith girl doesn't catch him in his escape.

Erissa tries her best to scrub the boy clean but doesn't bother going after him once he slips free either. Still scowling, she pushes to her feet and uprights the bucket then throws the handbrush into it with a loud clang. Running palms briefly over the arms and open front halves of her jacket she whisks water off the surface, ignoring the darkened hue of her wet shirt beneath. Every fingerwidth of sodden cloth was worth it! Giving her head a shake she runs one hand through tousled white-blond locks, the uneven layers just falling back into disarray anyway. Heading out she pauses to give Zalara a pat on the shoulder. "Don't waste your time, hon. He's obviously a lost cause." With that she turns toward the main room of the Cantina. Time to get herself a good stiff drink!!

Zalara goes to catch the cook before she falls, "Are you okay?" She asks as she helps the cook get back on their feet and she watches Jhael escape. She sighs softly as she goes to pick up the box. "I guess so I feel sorry for him, but I've tried to help and he doesn't want my help."

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