Logs:A Thirty-Second's Thoughts
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 19 May, 2016 |
| Who: Lys, T'gar |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Clutchmates exchange some thoughts over drinks. |
| Where: Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 11, Turn 40 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Farideh/Mentions, G'chet/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, Jocelyn/Mentions, N'klas/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, S'rin/Mentions, T'zul/Mentions, V'ret/Mentions, Y'vir/Mentions |
  |
| The Snowasis is busy tonight, full of riders and weyrfolks alike. The dart games are in full swing, the card games are boisterous, and watching it all is none other than T'gar. The Taiga wingrider is in his full leathers and nursing a mug of something dark and amber as he watches one of the rousing dart games being played out. Those that pass him that he recognizes gets a nod and a few words of greeting, but otherwise he stays put on his barstool. Lys flashes a pretty smile to her tablemates as she collects her winnings from the card game that goes on without her. She minds her manners with cards, at home, so these earnings must have been honestly come by, and only enough to afford her a few drinks tonight. It's only after that she moves down the bar toward her clutchmate and settles on the stool just vacated to one side. "Thirty-second piece for your thoughts," which isn't enough to buy a drink, but hey, it's better than expecting them free? T'gar has likely spotted Lys coming since he's in scout mode, and so there's a ready-made answer for her when she speaks. Taking a short drink from his mug, "Just unwinding," comes quick and easy from him, along with a ready smile for her. "Had a long stint out in sweeps. Y'vir over there's sporting some nice dart skills," with a gesture towards the dragonrider in question. "Anything exciting keeping you wound?" Lys wonders, leaning into the bigger man's space to peer into his drink and sniff before sitting back up to sip on her white wine. "It can't be sweeps. There's almost never anything on sweeps worth even a tickle of excitement," she observes; perhaps Lys isn't easily interested by the daily lives of holders at a far distance below. "Did you make a bet on the game?" She nods to the darts. The drink likely tastes strongly of ale. "Not exciting, exactly," Rat answers with a sniff of amusement. "Just...long. Still adjusting to this life of a full rider. Drinks are good at the end of a long day." As for him making bets, he makes a negative sound at the back of this throat and leans back as he answers, "Saving up for new leathers that don't chafe. Did you?" "Nah, games of skill are unpredictable. Even the skilled can falter and cost you. And I'm saving too. For something similar." Lys, too, hasn't cashed in the token included in the graduation gift chest for new (plain, sigh) flight leathers, as evidenced by the slightly over-large and worn jacket that she's worn since weyrlinghood perched on her shoulders, shrouding her figure with its bulk. "I think we're supposed to be settling in for the next five or so turns," she notes wryly, but asks with more earnest curiosity, "How are you liking Taiga now that you've been there a while?" "Similar," Rat echoes with a raised brow - as if he's non-verbally adding to that 'Do tell'. "Five turns' a long time to be settling in. Taiga's a good fit, actually. A lot of the riders there, I get along with. The work's harder than in weyrlinghood, but I can handle it," and him raising his mug in a toast to that fact must be one of the ways he's 'handling it'. "What about you? The only one from our class that I see on the regular is N'klas." "I don't have a chafing problem," Lys' dry explanation of where their desires are dissimilar comes with a smirk before she lifts her glass to her lips again. "Well, if not five turns then you can ignore some of the oldest, with their 'I've been in Equinox since you were in nappies, lassie!' and so on," she affects an appropriately gruff tone probably belonging to one of her much, much older wingmates. Nevermind that T'gar is unlikely to be addressed as lassie by anyone. "I like Equinox," even so, "G'chet's a good wingleader. Settling and all, still, of course," she shoots him a commiserating look before offering, "Do you want to hear about some of the others?" "Let me guess. Your older wingmates are busy taking you to task already?" T'gar teases easily as he drinks. "'Nappies' and all. What's Equinox is like?" Lys's last draws a grin and a look from the bronzerider before he nods his head upwards and answers her with, "Sure. You keep up with the others?" "Oh, they just don't like it when I get uppity, or am some kind of know-it-all," which seems to deeply amuse the blonde. The sense in her tone is one of blooming and comfortable comradery even with the prickliest of Equinox's riders. "Imagine what you gleaned shadowing them and just extend it," the greenrider says of her wing. "I keep up with some of them. S'rin and I don't socialize much, even being in the same wing," then again, they never much did in weyrlinghood either, so that's hardly surprising. "Nik, of course, but you'll know all about his sordid business," Lys dismisses it with nary another thought. "Jocelyn is determined, as she always was, dedicated to what her new role demands of her. T'zul is making friends," read: not, "in his new wing. V'ret's finding Glacier to be a good fit. Sort of strange when I run down the list like that to think that we're not still all seeing each other everyday." "I bet," Rat says to the first, as equally amused as she is. "I didn't shadow Equinox much, but I can remember the little that I did."He quiets up when Lys runs down the list of their clutchmates, nodding to each one as if he had expected each to be exactly as they are. "Sounds like everyone's fitting in well," he concludes as he lingers on his drink. "That's good. Our esteemed weyrlingmaster should be proud. I imagine, soon, one of the queens'll go up." Lys' fingernails tap on her glass, making a light tinking sound as she considers. "I imagine some of us would do better with a few more growing pains, but then, we're a bunch who likes to keep our hardships to ourselves." She gives T'gar a knowing look but doesn't linger on the observation. Rather, she ruminates, "Could be any of them. I've heard the dragonhealers say that the longer into the interval we get the longer between flights golds can go and still be considered having 'normal' cycles. Niahvth and Roszadyth rose so closely together this last time that either of them could go up probably any time to a few turns from now, and Aidavanth's never, so there's no saying if she will go up soon or turns from now." She eyes the bronzerider a thoughtful moment before asking with a twist of humor to her lips, "Do you have a preference for which one? Has Asaroth chased a goldfight yet?" "Why share with the world?" is Rat's rhetorical take on keeping hardships to themselves. On the golds, there's a light shrug as he drinks. "Sounds like it makes sense. Doesn't really matter to me which one of them that go up, though, I'd rather stay on Drex's good side and keep from a randy Farideh if anything. Asaroth's flown queens before and, he seems the sort to likely do it again with little preference." "Why indeed. The world doesn't want to know anyway," Lys lifts her glass to toast to that. "Lucky you, then. I hear goldflights are quite the thing," for bronzeriders, anyway." It might be odd or maybe it's only natural that she asks, "What's it like to chase? I mean, really. I mean, I heard the lecture and all that, but." Personal experience. Does it measure up to the lecture? That seems to be what the greenrider is curious to know. "It's the thing for those looking to get their egos stroked," T'gar counters on goldflights. "I see them as a means to an end if a promotion's involved. As for chasing," and there's a pause, as if he's giving that some thought, "well. Feels much like you're your dragon. You don't have much control over anything. You can feel him in flight when it's really intense. I guess, yeah. Intense." A slight shrug. "Intense and no control. I imagine being chased feels the same?" with a gesture towards Lys. "And you're in no need of ego stroking?" Lys teases the bronzerider, "I'm sure if I have another drink I could summon up something helpful." Or now, she reaches out a hand to touch his arm, affecting the ditzy expression of the dumbest blonde, "Oh, T'gar, your muscles are so huge," and just as fast as the demeanor was adopted, it's gone again and she's laughing. Flights is obviously something a little more serious. She finishes her glass and sets it on the counter. "Intense is a good word I think, but... I don't know, for Evyth... it's like a condensed love affair. Flirting, being chased, being wooed, and eventually... consummated, which is fantastic. After all that build up, I'd kill if it ended otherwise, I think." There's a chuckle at Lys's familiar antics, shaking his head before saying, "Is this how you get men?" It's an obvious tease. Back to flights, "Us chasers, I guess it's not as intense as all that," he considers based on what Lys explains. "Since, like, only one of us ends up with Evyth. So, it makes sense that there's no love affair on our side of the mark. Asaroth doesn't flirt to entice a green or gold. I don't even think he knows how." "Yeah, that or I just flash 'em my tits," Lys replies with another smirk, not missing a beat. "Well, if you ever want to see them," you know, outside of the context of bathing and hot springs and skinny dipping and so on, "you should make Asaroth try to flirt with Evyth." That's quipped as the greenrider gets up to walk away, only she rocks back on her heel and spins back toward T'gar, "Actually, even if you don't want to see them, you should make him try anyway. Just for laughs." She beams impishly at him and then twirls back around to head for the exit. "Later, Rat." "I should party with you more," is what Rat says to tit flashing. "Good luck trying to get that dragon of mine to flirt. He might see it taking Evyth to a dirty cave as 'romantic' - equipped with a rotting carcass at the entrance. Probably the ultimate mood killer." He laughs at his own words as she starts to walk away, toasting the last of his ale towards her before he says, "See you around, Lys." |
Leave A Comment