OOC: Here we go! I decided to try to make this thread into a fun type of thread, so it can be a little bit unrealistic, as long as you don't get too overboard.

 

IC: Arath snickered as he went on his high risk mission. That was right, he was on a mission- an extremely deadly mission at that. He was dressed in black from head to toe, and for once his shortness came in handy. In his left hand he held the goods that the mission relied on. After all, he couldn't afford to mess this mission up. Arath head the noise of a man walking, and he quickly pressed himself to a wall, blending in with the shadows. The semi-alert guard passed by him without so much as a glance. Arath grinned to himself at his success and continued onto the Lion's den. Perspiration began to collect on Arath's brow- here was the part where it would begin to get tricky. If he was caught, he would be undoubtably murdered in ruthless and painful ways.

 

Who was his target, do you ask? Why, it was the one and only Mistress of Trainees! Arath still remembered the humiliation he faced at the woman's hands when she allowed him to feed his friends poisonous mushrooms. Arath had not really been angry, but he decided that a little bit of friendly revenge wouldn't hurt at all. This brought him to his current destination- the Domain of the Mistress. Arath would have to muster up all of his skill and all of his sneaky prowess to come out of this mission alive. Arath got past the first trap (an incoveniently placed slipper) without much difficulty, and managed to plant the goods without too many heart-stopping moments. Looking back on the moment, Arath would always ponder how he had managed to pull off the stunt. Perhaps it was because of all the survallence he did on the target's habbits?

 

Still, part one of the deed was done, next was the contamination. Arath continued his steathy actions until he had contaminated the next target. With an evil grin on his face, he made his way over to his rooms to await the scene the next morning. Arath woke up feeling eager to witness the result of his mission. He had figured that blue mushrooms had gotten him into the mess, so blue his revenge would be. He had replaced Thera's normal soap and shampoo with a concoction that would turn her hair and skin blue! The beauty of it was that the solution didn't work imidiately, it began appearing slowly, and Thera would be dressed and out the door before the affects kicked in. The second part of his masterpiece was the tea that she would be drinking that morning. Normally, the color would wash off in a day or so, but the concoction would cause her hair to grow back blue, and so she would have blue hair for a month or two!

 

Arath couldn't help but join in the chorus of snickering as the ignorant Mistress of Trainees walked by. She shot glares to all of them, but nevertheless continued on her way. After a few minutes shut up in her office, she apparently took time to look in the mirror, for a shriek pierced from the office and out came the livid Mistress. He face would have been red with fury, if not for the blue skin- so her face ended up a royal shade of violet. This, however, only made the scene more comical and a few brave (or suicidal) trainees succumbed to their laughter. After struggling for words and glaring at all of them, she turned on her heel and stormed back into her office. Finally safe, everyone burst into helpless laughter, falling all over themselves. Revenge was sweet.

Thera woke up with a smile on her face and a song on her lips. A few of the trainees even hedged away from her in the baths as she sang and splashed happily in the water. It truly was a day for smiles. Back in her rooms she sat on the edge of her bed brushing her golden curls and daydreaming about Jasine; a normal morning ritual. With her daily ablutions complete and her daydream over Thera headed out to her desk for morning tea, another daily activity.

 

Belting on her sword Thera headed out into the yards for morning rounds. She smiled at a few trainees and laughed along with their giggles, completely oblivious that she was the cause. A first she thought her good mood infectious, but quickly began to realize that she herself was the brunt of the joke. Storming back into her office Thera flung her sword belt on her desk and muttered about ungrateful trainees. A flash of blue caught the corner of her eye and she looked up, straight into the mirror. A blood curdling scream ripped through the room and out into the yards. Her hair!! Her beautiful golden hair! Stalking out of her office, now fully aware of her blueberry status she glared at every face insight. In a voice that carried out of the Tower walls and through the city she demanded answers. When none were given she stalked to the Tower and demanded to be seen by an Aes Sedai. With more laughter and answered questions she returned to her office and somewhat paler shade of blue. That afternoon she ordered an inspection of every room in the Barracks, looking for clues as to the perpetrator. What she found she kept to herself and began formulating her revenge.

 

Three days later under the cover of darkness Thera snuck into the stables and paid the grooms to look the other way. Knowing that sooner or later Jasine would come to take Brownie out for a ride she had chosen here to exact her revenge. With careful questions to a cobbler and a few of the sisters Thera had mixed up a special batch of glue. Careful only to get it on the places where Jasine would be making contact she painted the seat of the saddle and his stirrups too. It would take time for the glue to dry, but it would never dry fully without friction to make it so. If all went according to plan when Jasine went for his next ride he would find himself well and truly stuck. She’d been assured that in a few days all signs of damage would fade, but not with out some laughter and a little pain. The special glue would penetrate his pants and small clothes and adhere directly to his skin. The only way to remove it was the repeated application of solvent and even that would take hours or perhaps even days.

 

It would make him uncomfortable just long enough for her skin to loose its blue; then she could find out why he’d chosen her for the brunt of his joke.

 

Jasine had laughed along with the others at his darling blueberry, but he was beginning to think that the woman blamed him personally for it.  Her gaze was like daggers and when he told her that blue really was a fetching color on her he was smacked with her sheathed sword that morning instead of a kiss.  He headed to the stables early with the intention of taking Brownie out for a ride instead of his usual training.  He passed one of the other Tower Guards as the man came out of the tack room.  He barely knew Jasen, but the similarity in their names had made it more than a passing acquaintance.

 

"Morning, Jasen." He greeted the man warmly enough, but when Jasen blinked a few times and then stifled snickers as he nodded and dashed out of the barn, Jasine only stood there looking after him a few moments. He asked the still morning air in general, "Well now what was that about?" and then continued into the room.  He had no idea the man's mirth had come from the livid red mark that crossed Jasine's cheek from Thera's scabbard.

 

Jasine got his tack and rode Brownie out into the city.  He hadn't gotten very far before he realized that there was something wrong with the saddle, he wasn't moving right in it.  Trying to convince himself that it was just a little stiffness from not having ridden in a week or so, Jasine rode out of Tar Valon and did his patrol of the bridge village of Dairein.  When he tried to dismount for lunch, he realized it was not just his mind playing tricks on him.  He was stuck to the bloody flaming saddle!  He tugged and tried to remove himself from the saddle, even going so far as to undo his belt and pants in the middle of the street and trying to slip out of them.  It wasn't the pants that were just stuck, it was himself!  With another coarse oath, he wheeled Brownie around and galloped as much of the path back into Tar Valon as traffic would allow.  Thankfully, it was early enough in the morning that there was little.

 

Once he arrived back in the Yards he began the embarrassing and difficult task of explaining to the guards at the main door to the Tower that he needed to see an Aes Sedai immediately and yes, they had to come to him.  He couldn't explain why he couldn't dismount and couldn't come within the Tower.  After a lot of raised words and muttered oaths, Jasine finally turned Brownie to the stables and once there, leaned down and undid the girth to his saddle.  He wrapped his arms around Brownie's neck and used the stout horse to swing himself to his feet - where he still stayed stuck to the saddle, bow-legged and awkward.

 

Muttering irritably, he threw the reins at a trainee and gave the boy orders to see to his horse and then hobbled his way across the yards and to the Tower.  As he walked, well, sore of walked, he swore repeatedly under his breath.  Who under the Light, and why?  He stopped stock-still just inside the Tower doors as he suddenly remembered Jasen coming out of the tack room, and the man's snickering.  Well, he still didn't know why, but he certainly knew who. 

 

The visit to the infirmary was an unpleasant one, and if there was one thing that Jasine had never imagined needing treatment for, it was the application of a glue solvent to his nether regions.  And every woman who passed by had to stop and look at the young warder-to-be, laying on the infirmary bed with his legs up in the air and a saddle being the only thing between them and what the Creator had graced him with.  Those sisters had seemed almost too eager to gleefully cut away his pants and small clothes before they deigned to explain to him that the glue had soaked through clear to his skin.

 

---

 

Jasine was not an unimaginative man, but he struggled with deciding what prank could possibly equal the pain, irritation, and humiliation that application of glue to his saddle had caused.  To say nothing of the loss of his favorite saddle, it had been beyond repair.  The solvent nearly ate the leather clean through.  When he snuck into the Guard's room two nights later, he held a sealed jar of what the Brown sister had assured him were the most painful biting ants that had ever been recorded.  The woman had gone on about how the ants were native to the Wastes beyond the Spine of the World and that their bite was 12 times more painful than a bee-sting and would leave swelling and redness for days.  The Sister had been curious as to why Jasine had wanted them, but she'd told him it was part of his training, to build resilience and toughness.

 

Jasine smirked as he carefully hid the ants in Jasen's small clothes in the drawer and wondered how resilient and tough the man would feel in a few hours.  The gift that would keep on giving, Jasine made sure that the ants had infested several of them in the hopes that Jasen would meet with an unhappy surprise more than once before he had his small clothes laundered.

 

Jasen ached from the beating training had wrecked upon him. His arms hurt, his sides hurt, his lungs hurt; essentially every part of his body cried out in sharp pain or throbbing agony except for just below his waist. The terrible thing about it was that he knew Juilin Roth would have him back in the yards tomorrow working just as hard, and the same would continue until he asked the man to stop. He missed normal guard duty, but if he wanted to get better at the sword and receive promotions, then he had to work even harder then he had when he was a trainee. It was a rough life, and one that he had never imagined possible before leaving his home in Andor, but he wasn't going to give up the training now that he had come so far. Juilin knew what he was talking about, and had told him that very day that he had seen some real improvements, and the man was about as talkative as a rock. Going to the mess hall, he mechanically ate his food. He didn't care what it tasted like, just that it would give him energy that he would desperately need for tomorrow. Unfortunately, the day was only half over and he had things to be about to fulfill his duties.

 

First off, he had a brief instruction seminar with some of the younger guard recruits. Today his job was to instruct them on the different symbols of rank that the guards used. This involved who had authority in what situation if no direct orders had been given, what the different knots of color on the cloaks meant, who reported to whom in which division of the guards, the differences between the companies, and so forth. He had always been a good student in such manners, with his father a banner man in the Queen's Guard when he was young, and was often asked to teach the class. After answering countless questions which he would no doubt have to repeat tomorrow when they continued the lessons, he dismissed the class to some precious free time and they all left the building together.

 

Walking out, his muscles really began to twinge. Cursing under his breath, Jasen walked stiffly to the stables where his friend had a salve which worked wonders on bruises. Humming to himself, Jasen opened the door and walked in. It seemed to be empty at the moment, so he went over to the shelf and grabbed the jar. The smell when the lid came off was pungent, but the coolness as it was rubbed over hurts more then made up for the smell. Taking off his shirt to work it over his chest, he was just putting his shirt on the corner of an empty stall when he heard the faint sounds of snoring. Confused, Jasen looked over the stall to see what was in there. Lying face down in the yet to be mucked stall was a stable boy who had found his way into a jar of brandy. The boy obviously had drank to much and was now sleeping in a pile of horse manure. Out from Jasen's lungs came a huge laugh, and then a pained winced, followed by more laughter. The sight was just to funny for him, and he grabbed his shirt and walked out of the barn. Struggling to get his shirt on, he was still laughing under his breath as he passed Jasine. He didn't really know the man, and couldn't open his mouth because of the laughter when he had said "Morning Jasen." A nod or two was all he could manage before running out to find one of his friends to tell them the story.

 

The rest of the day passed without comment and soon Jasen was asleep and in bed. It was barely dawn when Jasen woke up, still sore but ready for his morning workout. Groggily moving around the room, he went over to his drawers and pulled out a fresh pair of small clothes and pulled them on. Quickly he got his breeches and coat and cloak on and hurried out into the yards. As he was walking, he felt a sharp pain his his crotch. Confused, he ignored it as he walked out of the barracks until two more came. It felt like someone was pinching his nether regions with pliers. Then, they started pinching like a storm. Screaming, he began to run around the yards, pounding the places they were biting, which only further the damage that his body was being inflicted to. Hopping around and around with tears streaming down his eyes, Jasen could still hear the laughter of all the guards and trainees around him. If he hadn't been in so much pain, he might have appreciated the site of a grown man hopping up and down in circles crying like a child, all the while beating his crotch and rear like a drum. Reaching down into his pants, he pulled out an ant. "Ants in my pants! Ants in my pants! What kind of twisted individual would think the ants in someones pants was a game!" He sprinted towards a small bond, stripping his cloak and shirt off as he ran, desperate to try to wash the evil creatures out of his clothes before they ate him to pieces. As he dove in the water and ripped his pants and under garments off, he looked around at all the others watching. Some just had smiles on their faces, others were huffing out huge guffaws. But as he looked, there was only one person who was on her knees laughing. Melenis. And as Jasen scrubbed, he began planning something diabolical for the woman. She would rue the day she had sullied his shorts.

 

Two days later and after much teasing and ointments, Jasen was feeling more like his own self. A very red and itchy self, but that could be ignored. Today, he would get that Melenis back for her ant trick. They had had to burn his small clothes and smoke out the room to get all the rest of the ants out of there, and the whole process had not been fun for him. Jasen wanted revenge, and in a little packet in his pocket he had all the tools he needed. Melenis and another were practicing sparring, and as usual on a hot day, they both had big jugs of water to keep them hydrated during the hard work. She wasn't paying attention, her whole mind was on the practice sword of her opponents, so Jasen casually walked over to her jug. Opening the packet, he poured the powder into it, sneezing in the process. This powder was made from especially hot Saldean Ice peppers that had been dried and ground up. They were incredibly strong, and when Jasen himself had tried them earlier, it had taken several mugs of ale to get the burn out. She would be hopeless against their heat, just as he was against those ants. He chuckled to himself as he walked away to find a place to watch and wait. Revenge would be sweet, or should he say spicy!

 

Jasen Pontean

Melenis was talking to Kabria when Jasen started hopping all over the grounds. For a moment, she wondered what was going on, but smirked when she heard him scream about ants in his pants. Despite others being more open about their laughter, she tried to keep hers in, though the muscles in her cheeks twisted with the effort. She felt something tickle her sides though, but when she looked, no one was near. Looking around, she noticed Kabria talking to Jaydena a bit further off. The tickling itself though was enough to break her resistance, and she fell to her knees laughing, both from the sight of Jasen now jumping into a pond as well as being tickled.

 

The next day, she was sparring against Perivar. Calling a few minutes of time-out, she went over to her jug, taking a good long swig of water to cool down. The effect however, was quite the opposite. Eyes going wide, her throat suddenly felt as if she could breathe fire, and had she tried she didn't doubt she would have set something on fire from the heat of her breath alone. Light, what was in that stuff?

 

Jasen asked what was wrong, and she couldn't speak, tears were forming in her eyes so much that she could barely look straight. Struggling for words, she grabbed Perivar's jug, drinking all of it in one go. Perivar tasted her jug of water, grinning when he recognised the taste of ice peppers, being a Borderlander himself. Melenis noticed, but ran off to the mess hall instead in her attempts to find more water. She tripped a couple of times as well, causing more laughs here and there, something that annoyed her to no end.

 

Later that evening, she assessed the details. Perivar had grinned, apparently knowing more than her about what had happened. Yesterday, Kabria had been near her when she burst out laughing, being tickled with the One Power. She also knew of the two of them being close. Oh, so that was the game they had played on her, was it?

 

She waited until the cover of darkness before slipping out, holding a vial of blade oil in her hands. If Perivar considered it funny to sabotage her training, she would sabotage his in turn. She rubbed the oil on the haft of his weapon and his clothes before sneaking out of his room again. She knew he would be teaching Trainees the following day, and the results should be... entertaining to them.

 

The oil was normally meant to give a sword a good shine, mostly to be used during ceremonies. Being oil however meant whatever was coated would become slippery, especially in the liberal -- and undiluted! -- amount she had applied it in. The oil would seep into his clothing and weapon haft, unnoticeable until water would be added into the mix. Water or, in the case of sparring matches, sweat. Perivar would soon find out that holding his weapon, his footing and even his pants in place would prove to be increasingly difficult the more he sweated. Of course, the oil would seep into his skin should he be exposed to it long enough, making him quite the slippery eel over the next couple of days...

 

 

Melenis

Can be evil too