Logs:Apocalypse Us
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| RL Date: 11 April, 2013 |
| Who: Aishani, N'rov, Iesaryth, Vhaeryth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Shani and N'rov bring down the Weyr. It's made of sand. |
| Where: On a Beach, Southern Continent |
| When: Day 26, Month 6, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Hot and Sunny |
| Mentions: Vienne/Mentions, Edeline/Mentions, Hattie/Mentions, Ali/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, E'ten/Mentions, E'dre/Mentions |
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| Sometime before the threatened 'threadfall' at High Reaches comes down on the Weyr, but after it's announced, somehow, Aishani manages to carve out a couple days' time. It's hardly an easy thing, and she's hardly entirely sure about going, but she goes nonetheless - because she both needs the time, to be honest, and she probably just wants the time with N'rov. Though there's certain perfect islands for such a getaway, failure makes that locale less than desirable, so she's found another beach down south with a freshwater stream nearby and fruit trees providing shade over the sand. Warmth and waves are enough to have Iesaryth dozing, while Shani herself sits at water's edge, long legs sandy with her toes dipped in the shallows. Vhaeryth's swimming further out to sea, and N'rov's not un-busy too, but his involves less splashing. No, he has the very important task of creating a small sand-Fort to bury Shani's nearest hand with, complete with Tooth Crag. Or, what would be Tooth Crag if it weren't falling down. He reaches over to scoop a handful of wetter sand, but says, "If this doesn't do the trick, I'll have to use a... stick." The somnolent queen sends a trickle of salt water Vhaeryth's way now and again, curious what he's up to, if he's found anything interesting, or at least, interesting enough to rouse herself to swim out, give chase, go looking for fish. Shani's free hand brushes dry sand from darkening legs, even as she's eyeing N'rov's creation dubiously. Curling toes into the wet sand underwater, "I'm just going to wreck it when I get up anyway. Unless this is your plan to keep me here." Boring things, Vhaeryth assures the queen. She wouldn't be at all interested in this great big fish, surely, which really is only 'great big' in relation to the tiny fish it's chasing, perhaps only as long as one of his claws. The tiny fish like to hide. The bigger fish looks flummoxed. Should he upend a rock, give it a hand? His rider keeps with the building, adding tiny bits-of-shell footpaths where the herb garden should be. "It is a fiendish plan, don't you think? Absolutely without flaws, and so clever you'll never guess, except oh wait, you already did." It's enough for Iesaryth to open eyes, if slowly and lazily, and lift her head to try and spot Vhaeryth, even if he's beneath the waves. And she considers the question - would that be fair to the smaller fish? Not that fairness should necessarily be the most important thing, but... Her rider glances from her dragon to the little shell paths N'rov's building, with a faint, burgeoning smile. "Always so clever, your plans. The prettier you make it, the less I'll want to wreck it. Though it'll make some things... difficult." That was suggestive, yes, but only slightly so. Well, while Iesaryth is mulling, Vhaeryth will have to get up to something. There's a sense of activity, of movement and moving. Not to tempt her, or anything. His rider sprinkles some of the drier sand down over the Fort, and over Shani's knee while he's at it. "It's snowing, it's snowing!" He glances at her, smiling, while the 'snow' continues to fall. "You'll still have to wreck it in the end." He doesn't sound disheartened. "It's all right. The next one will be even better, or if not, we'll get to remember this one." There's the sense of a long-suffering fine from Iesaryth; fine, if she must go to see what Vhaeryth's up to... and no, never to tempt her. Not that she's that bothered, by the sparkle of sun on her own ocean as she hauls herself up to wade into the waves and find him. Giving N'rov a look for the sprinkle of 'snow', Shani still leans over with care for a kiss, ensuring she doesn't topple his sand Weyr too early. "No snow now," she murmurs after. "I feel like I just finished with it. And I suppose that's a point. See it as practice." She looks down at 'Fort', wondering, "How are things there? After..." Whatever it was that happened; she's not terribly interested in rounding out the details. Vhaeryth would be harder to find if only he wouldn't stick his head out of the water, as though actually looking for Iesaryth were the single solitary way could possibly identify her current location... and that she's coming for him. He snorts seawater out of his nose, upends, and with a splashy kick later he's headed back into the depths. "I suppose no rain either," though N'rov can't be too mournful, not on the heels of that kiss. And, possibly better, that care. "After the weyrling went splat? Or do you mean, after the hatching. That went fine, at least, nobody got injured 'too badly,'" this with a sardonic smile for the quote. "I haven't heard of new tithe problems, which isn't to say there aren't any. I have heard noises about maybe getting one of the older weyrlings in Hematite, but then I've also heard that our wingsecond-Weyrsecond isn't around much because he's convinced he really was supposed to be a harper and if only he studies enough they'll let him in. Yours?" « There you are. » Iesaryth even says it indulgently and amusedly, as if she actually couldn't have found him otherwise. She might have been swimming around the ocean forever, looking. And she's quick enough to come for him, faster in the water than on land, comfortable and powerful there, propelling herself into and under the water to see what he's been doing with himself. Or the fish. Or the rocks for that matter. Wrinkling her nose at the phrasing, she can first allow, "Rain isn't as bad," before; "Well. Both. I suppose 'too badly' is really relative depending on who's talking. And..." That last bit, about the Weyrsecond, has her bemused, but she only asks, innocently, "Do you want the job?" As for hers, just a sigh, heavy and tired. "I have to go to Tillek. I've been putting it off. I don't want to fuck it up any more than everyone else already has." Like rider, like dragon, just now: Vhaeryth can be seen to have wrecked the landscape by wrenching up a large, encrusted boulder and piling it up with a couple others to make a cave of sorts. Not a cave that he fits in, but still, a cave. He shows this advanced architectural feat to Iesaryth, bubbles rising from his maw as little clawed things scuttle along the ocean floor, and perhaps the best thing that can be said about it is that at least he won't also be spilling shiploads of oil anytime soon. N'rov's is a bark of a laugh in the meantime, one that says not hardly. He doesn't bring up E'ten. Rather, "If any of them can smooth things over, I think it'll be you. Are you bringing an entourage?" Duly impressed by Vhaeryth's abilities, Iesaryth will first have to watch the little things crawl along the ocean floor, looking for new homes, displaced by cruel fate, or by the bronze's whimsy. Next, she'll see about sticking her head in there if she can, but her head is bigger than his, so it might not really work. She does so with the care that Aishani kissed his rider with earlier, however, equally reluctant to destroy his work. Well. Maybe more so. Shani's not like to care as much when she needs her hand. For the moment, she's happy enough to laugh with N'rov, dark eyes brightened. "Are you sure? Now that your Weyrleader seems to approve..." Of him, of them. All of the above. But dubiously, "I'm glad to have your confidence, but I'm not sure. And... I don't think so. Should I? Is that... done?" It's times like these that her lack of training, the way she was brought up, really do show. It probably would work. Her head is bigger, but it's not as though they're trying to wedge all of her down in there. The fish would enjoy it, would swim right up to the light of her eyes. As for her rider's joke, N'rov gets back to making it snow some more, because that would really teach Fort. Also, her knee. "Hattie or Ali would know better than me," he says as he gets to poking his finger into the built-up caldera, making holes for cavern entrances between her fingers. "But if it's anything like how I was brought up... you take someone with you, someone friendly and approachable who won't run their mouth off, unless you know them and it's all completely unofficial and you're just friends. If you need to make a point, you show up with your whole... well, wing, here, but I don't think a bunch of pregnant and recovering riders would have quite the same effect." If Iesaryth can, there's no reason for Iesaryth not to; she pokes her head into the little cavern to peer at the fish that swim there, eyes bright and blue. And hopefully, she won't get so curious that she brings the whole thing down on her, looking around the way she does. « I wonder how big we could make it. » They have time, after all. And Shan could remember where it is, so they could make it bigger still. As for Aishani, she retaliates by blowing sand from her knee toward N'rov, a mini-sandstorm that doesn't quite have the effect she'd like. With a shocked! Shocked and dismayed! expression, she asks, "Are you saying I'm not friendly and approachable?" There's a little pout for him - for who else? - before, "I'd ask Hattie, but... I don't know about burdening her with our issues or spreading them about. I'll think about it though. Vienne, maybe. She was a Harper." It's a thought more than a decision. So far, it's holding. So far, there are the holes for little fish to swim through where a big nose won't fit. So far, as long as Iesaryth's careful... but whether Vhaeryth's unworried because of the queen's innate tendency towards that very thing, or whether that just means he could build something new afterward, he's relaxed about it all the same. In fact, « Huge. » N'rov, now-sandy N'rov, looks down at himself and then back at her, reaching over to try and tweak her nose with the fingers she's just made even sandier. "Does a harper ever stop being one?" It's a question more than negation, though barely not wholly rhetorical. "I'd be interested in what she says. The thing is, though, your friendly-and-approachable person, who has loyalties to you, she or he has nothing better to do than to wait around and talk to whoever else is waiting around too, if you see what I mean." So far. So far, Iesaryth hasn't felt the need to try to see if her nose will fit through one of the larger holes, but she does wonder. But for now, she's content to let the fish swim through and not block their egress, while considering an underwater cavern of rocks near as big as a ledge, under which clever dragons might hide and watch sea creatures, for as long as there's air. That's really the only issue. On shore, Shani allows the tweaking, though while she's grimacing, even if she has to brush sand from her nose after. Wryly, "Not that I've noticed so far. Which makes her sort of ideal, I suppose. And people seem to like to talk to her. Sounds ideal. I don't know if she's so much loyal to me specifically as the Weyr generally, but it'll serve. I'm working on it." A pause. "I like her though." If there were a way to trap the air, if they could just get a big breath of air, come down and spit it out for later (if only it worked that way)... At the moment, Vhaeryth has hold of a particularly gigantic rock embedded in the sea floor, and it's holding him down without his having to flap to stay this far down, but it does rather limit his movements to more than just twisting his neck this way and that way to see. Once, he blows bubbles right by a school of fish, sending them in Iesaryth's direction. "I hope it works out," N'rov says, looking at her, and doesn't re-tweak. If only. Iesaryth won't be able to hide her head from the fish forever, as if hiding her head makes the rest of her invisible. She knows it doesn't technically, but the fish seem surprised enough when they come rushing through the holes. Eventually she withdraws to watch Vhaeryth's progress, bright enough not to offer any help. Clearly, he can totally handle it. With a little twist of her lips, Aishani looks back at N'rov, resigned to it one way or the other. "Me too," she says, grateful - and leans in again for a longer kiss, still mindful of the structure between them, but maybe a little less so than the last time. Vhaeryth handles it, oh yes. He also rumbles his good humor which, as it turns out, is not very fish-friendly; they make a run for it and, an eyeblink later, have vanished. Poor Vhaeryth. Poor Iesaryth. The former disconsolately loosens his talons' hold and lets the water lift him back towards the surface. His rider's considerably more pleased, what with the kissing, and whispers into her ear, "Want to make a cataclysm? Forget meteors, we could shake the whole thing down." One finger-wiggle at a time. Aw. Iesaryth's probably less disappointed than Vhaeryth in the sudden loss of fish-life. They'll come back, and the dragons will be waiting. But she surfaces with him even so, with her own pleased rumble above water - at least he's entertaining if he must rouse her from her beach-napping. It's terribly important. As for her rider, it's hard for her to smile and kiss N'rov at the same time, but she manages - his cheek, along his neck as he whispers in her ear. Between them, fingers move slowly beneath the sand-Weyr. "I could do it, but I like 'we' better." The fingers of her free hand drift up into his dark hair. While Vhaeryth floats (and he might be amenable to more beach-napping very soon, now that he's had his success at beach-kidnapping), N'rov laughs, and turns his head so that he can at least get a glimpse of the coming quake. If her fingers travel that much more through his hair, that way, it's just that much better. "'Apocalypse us.'" Iesaryth might start purposefully floating toward the beach, but it's a lazy sort of thing, while she considers the logistics of building larger underwater structures. Meanwhile, Aishani's tearing down, though freeing her hand doesn't do quite enough damage to knock the whole thing down. Thankfully, because what other reason would she have start pulling him in, finding a way into whatever clothes he's bothered with, murmuring, "People keep saying I'm going to destroy the Weyr." That's probably not what they mean, but this is a way more entertaining way to go about it. At the moment. |
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