Logs:Acquaintance
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 10 August, 2013 |
| Who: K'zin, Rasavyth, Reisoth, H'vier |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: H'vier and K'zin talk wing stuff while their dragons make one another's acquaintance. The brawns get along fine. The brains? ... Eh. Not so much. |
| Where: Bathing Pools, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 28, Month 6, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Fayla/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated and played via gdocs. |
    |
| Bathing Pools, High Reaches Weyr Omnipresent clouds of steam slink across the tops of three naturally warm pools, set into the floor of this kidney-shaped cavern. Near the entrance the ceiling is high and polished, gleaming with little mineral specks as it sweeps downward into increasingly ragged, uneven steps. The foremost of the pools is squared off with wide steps leading down into the water and has faucets for bringing in cooler water from a rain-catching cistern. Primarily used for laundry, there's an almost constant film of suds along its surface until the circulating current clears it at the end of the day. Four sinks line the nearest wall and various tubs stored beneath allow for the washing of delicates. Laundry bags can be dropped off in the bins near the door and clean, folded laundry is stacked in rows of tall cubbies for easy pickup. The bend in the cavern leads to a rougher-hewn part of the chamber where the two circular bathing pools welcome those in need of a wash. Towels and washcloths are kept in neat stacks on shelves along the wall, along with sacks of sweetsand and a few bars of precious soap. Stone benches provide a place for sitting to remove shoes and clothing, while a row of gleaming brass hooks stand above, ready to hold clothes and robes.
Like every other venture into these caverns, H'vier's gaze wanders toward a naked curve here and there but, for all he can be a lech otherwise, he doesn't leer too horribly here. He's also not exactly modest about losing his own clothes or in any hurry over getting into the pool once he's bare. He makes a round of the pools before deciding to slip into the same one as K'zin with an old-man groan. Mm, heat. The groan is the thing that makes K'zin's eyes slide open. A pool is never quite so peaceful shared as it is when one's alone. His eyes are drawn through the haze to make out H'vier's face. It takes him a minute with that steam. "Hey, Wingsecond," He greets in a friendly enough tone. After a moment, he shifts away from the ledge on the wall, turning back only to snag up a handful of sweetsand, wetting it before taking to his hair. It's a few moments before H'vier picks out who's over there, sharing the pool. It helps that he vaguely recognizes the voice. "Bronzerider," he says. "Thought you were one of mine for a second. Then I remembered they wouldn't be calling me that when they didn't have to." Especially not sounding friendly about it. He has a grin but he's still on the other side of the pool, sinking into the heat of the water. "Yeah?" K'zin asks of the bronzeriders who are H'vier's. "Things are going that well, huh? I heard Iceberg was a tough wing to win over." Every wing has a reputation. His hands work through his hair, things sudsing up a little as he does. "I'm one of Taiga's." It's not a necessary detail, since H'vier didn't ask, but he offers it anyway, in a tone of casual conversation. Taiga. That earns a judgmental grunt from the older bronzerider but he doesn't actually comment. Which might be worse, admittedly. "They'll deal. None of us have much choice if we want to get the things we want." It's the nature of new management, really. All around, both Iceberg and the Weyr at large with the new Weyrleader. "K'zin, isn't it?" "Yeah." This time the word is a confirmation, not a question. The bronzerider ducks under the water to rinse off the sweetsand before making his comment. "No one gets much choice about a lot of things. Take weyrlings, for example. Some of us get tapped into the only wing we wanted nothing to do with." If K'zin's shoulders roll in a smooth dismissive way, maybe it's a trick of the steam. "Some people get saddled with a Wingleader they didn't want and then a Wingsecond they didn't want." The rumors do get around. "I suppose the Wingleader meetings are a lot less entertaining now that Z'ian's firmly in command, but I'm not allowed to attend them anymore, so I've not seen for myself. Most wingseconds don't either," He knows, "Do you?" "I know it's hard to believe, but I was a weyrling once." H'vier's tone is even and lacking any particular inflection but it's probably meant to hold some hint of good humor. "Most of the time you don't get what you want. Fortunately, you Impressed well." Well, being to a bronze, presumably. Anything less is, well, less. H'vier seems content to just soak in the hot water for now, closing his eyes. "You know you talk a lot?" "You?" K'zin feigns a tone of shock. Then there's a laugh, "You know, I'm told that. More the latter two than the thing in the middle, but all three seem to be just as true. I can talk less, if you'd prefer." And he does lapse into silence, scrubbing the sand across his arms and shifting into slightly shallower water so he can get his torso and the all-important 'pits. As the conversation goes on between bronzeriders in the baths, Rasavyth becomes curious. For some dragons, his touch is hard to identify upon initial contact - because though there's the sensation of an oozy charm, the ooze is invisible save for where it shimmers on occasion. Tendrils of the ooze creep like tiny bugs along the outermost edge of Reisoth's consciousness - if it can be found at all in the vastness that is the collected mental space that the minds of dragons occupy. "Don't usually come here to chat, but I guess I don't really care how much you talk, kid." H'vier finally stirs from his relaxing to actually begin his ritual of bathing, getting his hair wet, scrubbing with sweetsand. "So. Did you say you aren't happy with your wing?" Vast is a good word for Reisoth's mental space. But there's very little to clutter up that vastness, little to keep him from absorbing everything that he observes. As such, the dark, lean bronze focuses in on Rasavyth's touch as soon as he realizes the other bronze is 'there.' « What do you want? » It's far from a warm greeting but neither is it wholly dismissive, simply terse. "Me neither." Shrug. The conversation has been happenstance to K'zin, not something contrived to occur. "I'd imagine if I said that, I'd be a mighty stupid newly tapped rider." So no, he didn't say that, and he's not saying it now, but it might well be intimated. "Though it sounds like mine might just be more fun than yours at the moment. Are the rumors about them giving you and the wingleader a rough time true?" The vastness only seems to expand once Reisoth acknowledges Rasavyth's presence. The invisible ooze acts as a mirror, reflecting back the other bronze's mental space, vast, with little clutter, and even the sense of focus Rasavyth pays him. « A broad question with many possible answers. » His tenor delivers the observation simply. « I rather suppose the most contextually appropriate answer is that I want to make your acquaintance. » His tone is touched with an edge of faint amusement and, at the farthest limit of his touch, a subtle wrongness whose source is elusive. "Nonsense. It's not like I'm going to go telling your wingleaders that you hate them." H'vier offers K'zin a grin through the steam. "True enough. The wing hasn't been happy about most of the leaders they've been saddled with from what I understand. But it will be fine. I didn't want to be their wingsecond, either, truthfully. But it would have been stupid to turn down an offer of promotion." Never mind how he came about it. Reisoth has little to reflect in the proverbial face of the younger bronze's attention. But he remains quietly patient, studying the odd sensation of Rasavyth without commenting on it. « Why? Can you not make acquaintances elsewhere? » The question isn't friendly and it's not really meant to be. It's not as though Reisoth isn't vaguely interested in how Rasavyth intends to manage, though. It's just how he is. Acquaintances can be such a nuisance. "There's enough trouble on that front that I'm not inviting more." K'zin's answer to the idea of H'vier being a tattletale comes in a wry version of his baritone. There's probably more to the story of what trouble, but K'zin isn't volunteering it just now. Instead, he turns his attention to H'vier's wing, "I was surprised," He starts conversationally, "Not that I've ever heard anything bad about you on a professional level, but just that based on some of your conduct--" The fights, Cold Butte, etc. "--that you were offered a promotion at all. It's impressive." Its a verbal hat tip from the younger man. Not that H'vier needs it, just something to talk about. « Why should I wish to make acquaintances elsewhere when it is those within my home which interest me most? Not that outside acquaintances aren't sometimes useful, but-- » There's a sense of a mental shrug. Rasavyth's purring tenor and touch of oozy charm doesn't seem remotely bothered or dissuaded from his current course by the lack of friendliness. This bronze has enough friendliness for both of them - not that he pushes that. In fact, there's almost a sense of relaxation to the way his mindtouch is coming across. H'vier doesn't push over wing business. He has enough of his own to deal with that hearing about anyone else's isn't really a big priority, only a conversational topic. "I'm good at what I do," is his not exactly gracious acceptance of K'zin's compliments. "Besides, it was good for everyone involved." Well, maybe not for the riders in Iceberg that haven't become the wing's seconds in his place. Reisoth doesn't say anything right away. And when he does, it's an easy, monotone, « I didn't mean outside of the Weyr. Only outside of me. » Having to explain himself is so very tedious and his mental presence withdraws somewhat, even if it tends to be a distant thing to begin with. "You must be." K'zin agrees readily enough. "And I suppose that is the usual standard leaders are supposed to go by. What's best for the whole." The younger bronzerider seems about done with the washing now, so he starts moving for the exit of the pool. "Funny though, how so many times that standard ends up blurred by other things." It's not exactly an end to the conversation. Is it? Well, he's getting out of the pool at any rate and reaching for his towel. To be candid, and this is all conveyed as a preface to Rasavyth's reply, he didn't suppose Reisoth could possibly have meant this. Because it's a stupid question, and he'd heard Reisoth was an intelligent dragon. « Making acquaintances outside of you would hardly satisfy my desire to make your acquaintance. » Now it's Rasavyth's turn to express a sigh that carries the tedium of meeting yet another dragon who's just not up to snuff. He'd had such hopes, and now? Disappointment. Oh well. It was a long shot. So few can equal him. No need to waste his time here. His oozy touch begins to withdraw. H'vier will take it as much as K'zin starts making his way out of the pool. It's not like he has a lot of interest in watching a naked guy go about his business. Easier to forget those things when people are covered in water, after all. Reisoth knows just how he is. And he assumes everyone else is below him. So the younger bronze's feelings about him only earn a vague sort of amusement. Silly kids. He feels no need to defend his intelligence or try to convince Rasavyth that he's wrong. It's hardly worth his time to indulge in such obvious oversights, after all. So he lets the other fade away as he sees fit and returns to his much more satisfying observations. |
Leave A Comment