Logs:Day One Adjustments
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| RL Date: 2 November, 2013 |
| Who: G'laer, L'sha, Rh'mis, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Rh'mis emerges for the first time since Impression; reactions vary. |
| Where: Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 22, Month 2, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| OOC Notes: Backdated! |
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| Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr All the furniture here has been pushed to one side of the room to allow a large pathway opposite: room enough to let weyrling dragons pass from the bowl's archway to the cavernous barracks at the back. None of the furniture matches, either: it varies from big cushioned, claw-footed chairs to those of plain wood, while the most seating is at the two stone tables ringed by low and equally hard stone benches. Without the tapestries that decorate many of the Weyr's other interior spaces, the room always echoes with noise, no matter how few are there. What it does have, however, are several colorful murals: on one wall, a detailed diagram of a dragon's anatomy; opposite, next to a creaky wooden door, a number of painted and labeled wing formations. Near the entrance is a large-scale version of the Weyr's badge, while the back wall, by the barracks, features a detailed map of the continent. The latter area's also home to one big, beat-up couch, black or maybe blue -- the thing's so old and filthy it's hard to tell, though it's certainly comfortable. L'sha leads tiny Rillaeth around the cavern, exploring the new space thoroughly. He pauses at each of the murals and diagrams, studying for a few minutes before moving on. When he gets to the map, he picks Rillaeth up and holds her at chest-level so she can get a better look. "Look, this is where we live. This is Pern!" He points to High Reaches Weyr, a dot in the far north. "That's our home, High Reaches Weyr." Rillaeth croons, her eyes whirling as she takes in the map, then turns her head toward her lifemate to look at him. L'sha laughs. "No, we don't live in a little dot, silly. This is just a picture." There was a certain amount of dramatics following Rhey's surprise Impression, enough that even those in the barracks may have caught word of it by now-- especially when there was a late night visit by the Weyrleader to one couch in particular. The newest brown pair have been keeping to themselves as a result, but as much as this seems to be the preference of one of the pair of them, the other seems less inclined. Rosvelth has been fed and oiled, and now he's determined to waddle away from his reticent partner, seeking out the more open world of the training cavern. What's this? What's this? And this? L'sha turns and sets Rillaeth down as he hears another weyrling enter the cavern. The lithe, speedy green makes a beeline for her brother to see what he's about. The greenrider smiles and begins to walk toward the other weyrling, then stops short. "Oh! Hello, Rhey! I haven't seen you for a while! But what..." He finally notices the dragon and the knot on the young man's shoulder. "Wait...you *Impressed*? But...but when? I didn't even see it! And you weren't Searched!" He looks thoroughly confused. Rillaeth, on the other hand, is delighted to meet another clutchsibling. Her touch is strangely black and empty, like the blackness of *between*, but a comforting voice from that blackness says, « Hello! I'm Rillaeth! Who are you? » Caught out, Rhey-- Rh'mis, but as if that has stuck just yet-- promptly freezes, hovering near the entrance to the barracks rather whey-faced. "Uh," he says, running fingers through his hair rather awkwardly, "Apparently that happens, huh?" It rather looks like he hasn't slept, which may not be surprising, and his eyes are wide as they round back upon his brown, who has paused to consider Rillaeth... and then give her a physical nudge with his heavy shoulder. An experiment! « Rosvelth, of course, » he tells her, in a voice that is surprisingly squeaky given his size, his touch alive with saltwater and stone, the hint of gold layered far beneath. L'sha finally puts two and two together and gasps, then covers his mouth with a hand. "*No*. Don't tell me you - you didn't Impress from the *stands*?" He walks over to get a better look at the former Nabol refugee. Rillaeth bugles loudly in greeting to the brown. « Hi Rosvelth! » She steps back at the nudge and flaps her wings a bit, then gives him an even bigger shoulder-bump in return. One of Quinlys' assistants backs out from the barracks, a knit cap hiding her hair, whatever she'd been saying promptly drowned out by that bugle; she glances over her shoulder, then reiterates-- probably-- more loudly, "Right. No dipping paws in the oil." Then her brows shoot up incredulously. "Because they spill, that's why!" « Is there anything interesting out here? » wonders Rosvelth, brushing past Rillaeth with his head held high, the brightness in his eyes matched by that limning his mental touch. « I haven't seen yet. I'm going to see. » Rhey, standing so near the door to the barracks, ducks out of Telavi's away - a movement that allows him to keep his expression from being quite so obvious in answer to L'sha, now that the other weyrling is so close. "I'm surprised you missed all the commotion," he says, tentatively. "But here I am." He sounds... unsure about the prospect, unsure enough that Rosvelth glances back at him sharply - just for a moment. L'sha is oblivious of the weyrlingmaster's presence, and lets out a bark of laughter. "That's so wonderful!" He suddenly throws his arms around Rh'mis and hugs him, but lets go after a brief squeeze. "I guess I was just too absorbed in Rillaeth to notice. It's not every day your world gets turned upside down, you know." Rillaeth motions with her head toward the map on the wall. « That's the whole world over there on the wall, apparently. » Her eyes suddenly whirl yellow and she creels a bit. « I itch! See you later! » She trots over to L'sha and headbutts the back of his calf. "Oh, I'm sorry, love, I'll oil you right away." He looks back at Rh'mis and grins. "Sorry, duty calls! So good to see you again, we'll catch up later!" He moves toward the barracks with Rillaeth in tow. Telavi might take that duck for granted, if indeed she notices at all, pivoting in time to catch-- "Here you are," she's started to agree, only then her brows go up in a different way through the rest of the commotion, and Rillaeth's not as big as she's going to be but she still gives her room anyway. Afterward, in the other pair's absence, "...Well." She's looking at Rh'mis and Rosvelth, now. Rh'mis is utterly bewildered by L'sha's hug, however short, and doesn't rightly seem to know what to say afterwards; to that end, it's probably a grand relief when the green pair so quickly move to depart. Rosvelth is more sanguine, if easily distracted-- Rillaeth's mention of the map has caught his attention, and thus the green goes quite unnoticed as he scampers (ish) in that direction. Telavi's later remark finally draws Rhey's attention back; he swallows, then lifts his chin to glance at her. "Well," he agrees. Though Tela looks away, it's to check on Rosvelth, but it's brief: it's not as though the map is gnawable, after all, though a more experienced assistant might still angle to keep an eye on him. "How are you dealing?" she asks Rhey himself-- but there's a curious quality over and above the straight-up question, that also doesn't have those other assistants' air. Rubbing awkwardly at his sharply pointed elbows, Rh'mis also glances away: for his part, though, it's to stare at the ground, and that's at least partially because his cheeks are pink. "It's, uh, not exactly something I was prepared for, ma'am," he says, low-toned, aiming for... light, perhaps? As inexperienced with weyrlingmasters as he is, he's still well-schooled in people, and that, perhaps, accounts for the way he approaches it. "But he's--" A nod towards the brown, who doesn't yet seem to have the patience to focus upon the map, and is already loping on. He's Rosvelth. Telavi, inexperienced with weyrlingmastering, still keeps looking; "In all sorts of ways?" It might be light too, given how it comes with a smile, but she doesn't look away to Rosvelth, not this time. It'd be nice to say Teisyth appears from nowhere, stealthy and sleek. Except she's neither built for stealth nor particularly sleek. The boxy-shaped, weather-worn green comes galumphing in from the barracks, wings spread, hissing, growling, and generally making a ruckus; it's amazing how much noise and nonsense can come from one two foot tall dragon. G'laer isn't far behind, and he's watching he green without a smile, and only with a stare. A keen eye might see the vein throbbing in his neck, but at least he's not scolding her now. He forces his eyes away as she continues to terrorize something unseen and looks to Rhey and Telavi where they stand. Rh'mis watches his dragon, chin set just a little sharply, though that's the only sign now of his discomfort; his expression is a mask of neutrality. "Something like that," he agrees. Now could be a good time to, for example, swear his innocence, or make some comment about how he's going to do his best, or how Rosvelth is worth anything, or-- but he doesn't. Part of that may be because Teisyth's arrival has caught his attention (and Rosvelth's, naturally), though that may be simply a handy excuse. His head turns to seek out G'laer... and then his gaze ducks down once more. « Oh-ho! » declares Rosvelth. « What's that? » Looked at, Telavi is looking at Rh'mis in all his neutrality, and her lips part as though she'd speak only-- saved by the at-least-she's-not-bellicose. Tela turns, and quite involuntarily sighs. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, then, and in the next moment she's recovered with a, "Good afternoon!" that's even cheerful. « It's a me! » The taste of copper and nuts; such an odd combination, but then it's coming from Teisyth, so perhaps that's not so odd. « I was just tellin' G'laer about the dream I had when I was takin' a nap just now. » Her alto's got a slow drawl to it, accenting the words, but her manner's cheerful, at least until she realizes with drooping wingspars that sink all the way to the ground that G'laer's not paying attention to her. Her eyes turn away from Rosvelth to her lifemate and she croons questioningly. "I'm listening." G'laer's eyes return to the green, though the words aren't particularly reassuring sounding. "I'm just not being rude." There's the crisp salute for Telavi, guardish in its manner, and politely, "Rh'mis, Assistant Weyrlingmaster Telavi." « A you, » repeats Rosvelth, eyeing Teisyth up as though he might be determining her weight in gold... or suitability to be treasure. « Well then. Why would you dream about taking a nap? I would dream about... about... I would fight many battles, and take down a dozen beasts, I'm sure. » "Hello," says the brown's rider, glancing back at G'laer in a way that suggests he's only doing it to be polite-- at least the other weyrling has saved him from Tela's grand inquisition (such as it is). If he knows G'laer's name, he's not using it - but then, he's not had much time to pick such things up as yet. Telavi turns enough that she has the frame of the barracks entrance to her back-- inclusive!-- one boot sole resting back against it, a casual barrier if not barricade to a dragon inclined to roam there instead. Perhaps it's Teisyth, to whom her gaze has turned all over again, even more than Rosvelth with her; a fine tension tautens the tilt of her head but doesn't reach her eyes in anything other than their focus. "Had you two met before? I'm afraid I don't know as much about you as the others, Rh'mis, what with being," there almost isn't a pause, "new, and all." "Not formally, no. But I've seen you." The first to Telavi, and the second so neutrally delivered to Rh'mis. A mental pause as Teisyth's eyes come back to her brown brother. Then a guffaw, « Yer funny. I like you already. I weren't dreamin' about takin' a nap. I was nappin' and havin' a dream. Does this look like a dream about a nap to you? » And the hissing and the lumbering and the terrorizing resume. G'laer's right eye twitches. « If it does, » Her good humor and general happiness is infectious, « You've got a funny idea of naps. But, hey, if you go fightin' beasts, can I come? I come from a long line of beast-fighters, you know. » Like she's not talking to her brother. « My grandpappy- » she starts but G'laer's voice cuts in. "Enough, Teisyth. Please." The green, this time, doesn't seem to mind being cut off before her tale got taller than she is. "We were going for a walk to the bowl, remember?" The reminder isn't tender, but it's not harsh either. "If you'll excuse us." He offers to the other two humans and brown as a collected group, trying to encourage the continuation of that journey. The neutrality of that remark from G'laer does not turn Rhey whey-faced (again), nor does it seem to have much impact at all: he returns the other weyrling's gaze evenly, holding it there until the man excuses himself. "There's not much to know," he assures Telavi, then. "Honestly." Don't believe the hype! « Do you? » Rosvelth likes tales, too; seems genuinely interested in this one, even, but then falls short as she and her rider to to go out (something he's yet to be permitted to do). « You will have to tell me later, » he decides. « I insist. » All that neutrality! The interest it sparks in Telavi may not be wholly professional, but then, it is her job to keep track of such things, isn't it? And it's safer than Teisyth; her, "Certainly," excuses the pair half as afterthought. "Modest," for Rhey, could be neutral too, but there's that faint curve to her mouth. "How's he doing, Rosvelth? He doesn't look like he's itchy, but they do like to get distracted and then all of a sudden it's ever so urgent." If Telavi's looking, right around the time Rhey says honest, there's a subtle shift to G'laer's lips. It might be the traces of some secret amusement. Or perhaps skepticism. It's so subtle it's hard to tell. But it's something. But then he's turning back to continue toward the bowl. In the meantime, there's a sensation of confirmation for the fact that Teisyth does come from a long line of beast-hunters; very committed to that idea, really. « You bet, buddy! » She assures. The pair of them don't get very many steps along before she's turning her head toward G'laer. "What? But you just napped. It's not a walk to the bowl if I carry you." His exasperation leaks. There's a staring match. Because she's young, perhaps it can be felt, at least by Ros, that she's making the convincing mental argument of: « Pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty please, G'laer? » But apparently whether it's because of her words or just being too sleep deprived to hold his ground, the man is scooping the dragon up moments later to carry her the rest of the way. "Just not very interesting," insists Rhey, evenly - though he'll hint at a smile, like he's being genuine and above-board all the way. He's half turning, now, all the better to see G'laer through the door. Rosvelth is terribly interested by Teisyth, and by that mental argument: he's drawn himself up, taller and higher, all the better to see and to feel... but then they're gone, and he ducks back, attention on his rider and Telavi. For now. "He... seems fine? He's pretty good at saying when he's not. Or when he's hungry." Of course, it's been less than twenty-four hours, but still. "I think he's okay." Now, though, he sounds uncertain and uncomfortable, for the first time. Telavi's been looking at the pair of them, certainly; if she'd noticed that shift at all, she'd let that go, much as she's let G'laer and Teisyth go... as she'd let that not-very-interesting go, with just an answering smile of her own. "I hope it stays that way," she says. "Letting you know, I mean. But," his hesitancy calls up some attempt to reassure. "Everything's fixable, pretty much. I think? At this age, anyway, unless they get into the cav-- I didn't say that. You didn't hear that. He didn't hear that." Rh'mis' eyes go briefly wide-- it's too late, Telavi: he's already latched on to this idea, but not, it seems for the purposes of evil. "That seems like a stupid idea," he decides, crossing his arms over his chest... even if a returning Rosvelth nudges at him with one of them, clearly seeking a loving hand of some kind (denied). "Not that I... I've never seen dragons so small before. He's curious, but I don't think - I'll keep him out." That, at least, is determined. Telavi's, "Good luck with that," is sincere enough. She crouches, then, and while she doesn't extend a hand of her own to Rosvelth, she does look at him from that vantage-- and with enough attention to her center of gravity that she wouldn't be the easiest to knock over. "Solith liked exploring. I carried her around too," like G'laer, not Rh'mis, "at that age for as long as we could, really. Not during playtime, but it's nicer looking about at human-height instead of that low, wouldn't you think?" Rosvelth is interested in this his-height personage to explore, and sniffs at Telavi with eager curiosity. What's this? Is she ready to be conquered? Luckily, he doesn't actually seem determined to try too hard at that... but a good sniffing is definitely on the cards. "I suppose so?" Slender, scrawny Rh'mis gives his already-bulky dragon a wary glance. "I think he likes to walk." Or Rh'mis prefers for him to walk, which may be more to the point. No conquering of Telavi. Telavi will now offer her hands to be sniffed; though for humans they're clean enough, a dragon might pick up not only residual sweetsand but klah and leather and Solith. and a particularly perceptive dragon, perhaps other dragons she's touched, ink, and something faintly metallic. Feet might be an option; knees, perhaps; elsewhere-- especially if it involves her hair-- is likely to get fended off. "Just as well, really, but Solith, she was so light. Is it just the two of you, or do you have any firelizards?" Luckily, Rosvelth - in all his day-old exploratory glee - is easily satisfied, and hands - and knees - are about the extent of his repertoire. "I've a firelizard," allows Rhey, as if he's doling out information about himself nugget by nugget, this one having apparently been deemed appropriate. "I'm not sure where he's gone, though. Today. And yesterday. No doubt he'll be back. When he feels like it. Or I call him, maybe. They're not much the same, though." It's not... quite surprise. Telavi'll rub his muzzle, if the little dragonet seems so inclined, and back behind his headknobs, too. "They really aren't. Mine, my first one I mean, never was around much... but after Solith she really wasn't. Though she comes back when it's cold, of course," that said with a quiet laugh. "Or there's-- well, or there's food she likes. Have you had him long? Is he brown, too?" She gives information for information willingly, freely, not yet looking up from Rosvelth though a smile's there in her voice. Oh, yes please, seems to be Rosvelth's reaction to having his muzzle rubbed, not to mention his headknobs, which likely don't itch quite yet, but... that doesn't mean it doesn't feel good, right? "Blue," answers his rider, after another pause, evidently having decided that this is innocuous enough. "He's been useful. I suppose--" He hesitates, giving Rosvelth a considering glance, as if he's still putting together how things might change, as the brown grows into a 'real' dragon. "Well." Blue. Likely Telavi takes that in, though she's busy giving Rosvelth attention, telling him what a good boy he is. "...Hmm?" It's about as long after Rh'mis has finished as he'd left between his last word and the one before, unhurried, untroubled. Happy, even. "Nothing," says Rhey, quickly, rubbing at his knobbly elbow again. "It's nothing. Come on," that is clearly to the brown, who seems loath to move given the attention he's getting, and yet... "We need to get you fed again. If you'll excuse us?" It's an excuse, though it's likely enough on barely one: when are tiny baby dragons not hungry, after all? "All right," and by her tone it is all right; maybe Telavi is just that easy to convince, or fool. "Of course." Two separate things, though she does linger a last rub along Rosvelth's cheek before she straightens, smiling at the pair before walking out towards the Bowl where others still roam. For all she'd notice, Rhey wouldn't have to feed Rosvelth at all... unless that excuse indeed becomes the truth. |
Comments
K'zin (K'zin (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 06 Nov 2013 18:23:32 GMT.
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The rest of this scene was really fun! I really loved Ros contemplating conquering Tela. And all that Rhey doesn't give away, and I admired Telavi's restraint in Not Asking. XD
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