Ticking Time Bomb
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Miriah
Date Posted: 9th February 2014
Characters: J'ackt
Description: Too much work and not enough relaxation makes Jenackt go snap.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 5, day 15 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: Zandan
Jenackt tossed and turned in his cot, trying to get comfortable. Even his pillow felt too lumpy. He stifled a groan and threw a hand up over his head. It was sharding middle of the night and once again, he could not sleep for all of the thoughts running through his mind. Irritated, he swung his legs off of the cot and rose. He was able to move silently through the cots, his footfalls unheard as he walked outside into the night air.
For one moment, he considered making a run for the weyr doors. He closed his eyes and his fists curled. There was freedom out there, the forests and the wilds. He could move when he wanted, hunt when he wanted, sleep when he needed... His fingernails dug into his palms. And there was danger too. The potential danger of another tight cell that smelled of urine. The danger of the large Zandan and his cronies. There was danger of hunger and getting hurt and...
Jenackt wanted to scream. Prowling away from the barracks, he found his way to the exercise yard and stared at the post in the middle. The practice poles were put away and he couldn't even get his frustration out with sword work. He hadn't even had _time_ for sword work. He held his head in his hand and circled around in the yard. He had no time for anything! If he wasn't in candidate lessons, then he was in candidate chores. And _then_ when he was supposed to have free time, he was in the infirmary with Vandor or with Saibra in her flame-charred etiquette lessons!
He paced, his hands winding in his hair and then fisting in the strands. His teeth ground together. He was an outsider here, it had been made plain to him several times. N'vanik's "Don't touch my people. Don't hurt my people." Qorri and her accusations, the boys who had jumped him, the other candidates who looked at him as though he might actually rip their skins off if they looked at him the wrong way. He began panting and tugging at his hair. What was he doing wrong? He was doing everything he was told to do!
With a hoarse cry, he kicked at the post. With every kick, he choked out his frustration. "I'm doing everything! I'm bloody well trying! What more do they want? What.." Kick "more.." Kick..."can.." Now a punch "I.." Another punch. "DO!?"
Words failed him as he began beating at the pole with his fists and feet, punching and kicking until his knuckles were bloody and his legs ached. The post stood, resolutely and stubbornly immune to his anger. He kicked at it again, and then slumped against the solid wood with a low groan as he fell to his knees.
His eyes stung, but he refused to allow the release of tears. Those were a weakness he had never been able to afford. He'd been alone before, when he was on his own, but now, around people...he felt more alone than ever he had when he was in the wilds. At least there he knew what he had to do and he wasn't running around like a wherry without a head. At least there, he knew what to expect. At least when he was in the woods, he expected the loneliness, accepted it as a matter of course.
He sat, curled up against the pole until dawn when he was finally able to rise and brush away the dirt from his hands and knees. His shoulders slumped with exhaustion and the anticipation of another day. He had chores to do.
Last updated on the February 28th 2014