Logs:Greasing
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| RL Date: 12 April, 2013 |
| Who: I'zech, Sabella, E'sren |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: E'sren and Sabella meet their new assistant weyrlingmaster I'zech for the first time. It's awesome. |
| Where: Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 6, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Sunny |
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| Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr(#392RJLs) 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.
I'zech has done a poor job of pretending that this whole assistant weyrlingmaster gig is something that fills the cockles of his heart with satisfaction. He makes no effort to hide his relief at the end of a shift, nor his reluctance at the beginning of one. But so far he hasn't actually smuggled a hooker into the barracks for anatomy lessons or something, so, for the moment, he still has his job. And now he drags himself out of the barracks to flop heavily onto the couch, knees wide, hand rubbing at his brow while he stares dully at nothing. Except what he's actually staring at is Sabella, he just doesn't appear to see her for a few long moments. And then he does. "You. Which one are you?" Names, who need them? Sabella doesn't draw a lot of attention to herself. She answers questions when it's appropriate, the answers are usually right but she's not the 'Pick me, pick me!' girl either. Whether she notices the arrival of I'zech isn't immediately obvious, she doesn't turn to look or glance his way when he flops onto the couch. And she similarly doesn't register that he's staring blankly in her general direction. The weyrling just continues to make notes. "I'm the well dressed one with the nice hair and witty sense of humor. Which one are you?" I'zech's stare doesn't grow any more lively for the quip he gets as a response. He just continues to look at her as if maybe he's a few blank moments away from nodding off. "The well dressed one with the nice hair and... Good for you. You like being a hair cut?" The hand at his brow is slowly turning into a scrub across his own hair, unconsciously perhaps, haplessly rearranging which parts are standing up and which are mashed down. Little by little, though, he's bending his arm so that the rub can land on the back of his neck. "I'm the one who could use a nap." Because he's had such a hard day standing around looking at people. "Yeah, it's not so bad." Sabella tosses back to him easily, pushing one of the charts over onto another one. "People wash you, oil your tips. Curl you up sometimes. It's better than being an entire person. I hear that's sort of a pain in the ass. Time consuming." She flicks her fingers dismissively for the very idea of being a person. "You should go take one then. It's not as if you have something important you're supposed to be doing right now." From another person that would be biting sarcasm. From her it comes accompanied with a quick flash of a disarming smile and a slow, "Or do you?" But still, she hasn't actually turned her head to really regard him and his disorderly shelf sprawled all over the couch. "Is that how people treat you? Greasing you up, shaping you however they want you?" I'zech's mouth tugs to one side, maybe because he doubts it or know it's not a flattering twist, or maybe lust because she mentioned needing her tips oiled. And so, when her disarming smile is shot his way, it's met with a fully armed smirk. "Yeah, I'm not sure what kind of supervision the lot of you need," he'll sigh out his agreement. Eyes closing, brows high, he shakes his head in lazy dismay. "Aren't you normally working with..." The hand comes out from behind his neck, just to be held in the air like it might catch a passing name. But it doesn't, and goes back to rubbing. "Whoever he is. That one." Sabella just shakes her head to that particular piece of innuendo. "I actually don't have anything clever for that. Point for you." She begins to pile up some of the excess threadfall charts off to the side, dismissing the ones that she's finished with. "Why don't you just get up and come over here and pretend like you're going over this map with me." Finally, she lifts her gaze from the table to look over at him on the couch. "I'll even vouch for you later." With raised eyebrows she waits for him to get out the name, which doesn't get out so she just smirks. "The tallish fellow that smiles a lot and is super helpful to everyone and everything? I think he's busy. His family stopped in or something, they're traders. He's a magician too." "Or you could say nice things about me while I sit over here," I'zech points out, tipping his head with those lifted eyebrows rippling upward. It's not that he's hoping she will, just that it's a pretty obvious alternative that doesn't have him hauling himself off the couch. "What's his name? The magician. Or are you saying you don't know anyone's name either?" Like he's already given up, he just shakes his head, grumbling, "Too many names. And too many of you look alike." Which might not be true at all, in reality, but as far as he's concerned, there are only a few faces standing out. Meanwhile, wherever Ghislaith is, a chilly draft blows through, looking for cracks and gaps to exploit. Rojeth's furtive touch. Almost simultaneously, I'zech says, "Ghislaith. You're... Sabella." It would appear he's finally gotten a little help. Was someone talking about him? That tallish fellow who smiles a lot chooses the right moment to walk in, or the wrong moment depending on who you're asking, and the first thing he hears is Sabella's description of him. E'sren was probably just passing through, but changes course when he sees his friend, and now, tuning into what they're talking about, he lifts his eyebrows too. With hands in pockets he wanders over, stops by that table. He looks from one of them to the other, it's kind of like a tennis match, and opts in. "Hi," he greets, smiling a lot. "I think I'll just tell Quinlys that you made me very uncomfortable instead. How about that?" Sabs offers up with one of her cheerful smiles, taking the pencil and tucking it behind her ear. Ghislaith doesn't appreciate the unnanounced intrusion wherever she is. Rojeth will be escorted (read: thrown the hell out) of her mental prescence rather rapidly. Unless he's pushy. She is only three months old after all. "Cheater." She replies when he says her name, mouth pulled to the side in a crooked smirk. "His name is E'sren." And at just that moment, the blue weyrling chooses to stroll in like this is the set of some sort of cable network sitcom. Laugh track included. "Hi, E'sren." Rojeth is gone already, a vapor that disappates at the first feel of Ghislaith's awareness. Like he was never there. He got what he came for. But nevermind that, the girl at the table is threatening I'zech. "By sitting here?" That's how he's making her uncomfortable? He seems dubious but unperturbed. "I guess if you wanted." There's a half-hearted shrug, but then being called a cheater, has him cracking a wide, wry smile to meet her crooked one. Meanwhile, E'sren walks in and it's such a lovely coincidence that I'zech gaze sharpens on him a bit. Maybe she wasn't kidding about that magician thing? "That one," he remarks, lousy greeting that it is. "E'sren." Which would be where Rojeth pulls his stealth breeze act on Ahruth, that eerie waft of a touch. "With Ahruth." Such a cheater. Ahruth is a very different mind. It isn't that he's hyper-active, it's just that he's very present. When he feels the slightest whisper of another thing sharing his mental space unannounced he snaps his attention around and sends off a flash bomb, a sudden reflexive flare of neon bright color. It could be a sneeze, it's so sudden. His rider meanwhile tilts his head and squints at I'zech. "Yeah," he confirms slowly, narrowed glance finding Sabella with no small amount of unasked questioning. Back to the bronzerider, "New weyrlingmaster?" A guess, maybe educated since he's obviously not a weyrling and, well, everything else. By sitting there? Sabella lifts her shoulders upwards, her smile is unconcerned by the lack of anything substantial behind her threat. It looks like she could say something else, but the arrival of the other weyrling derails her from further detailing of the subject. Rojeth may not feel it since he's gone, but Ghislaith slams all the windows and doors. The nerve of some people. Quietly to the young man that's maybe an actual magician, maybe not. Who knows? "Yeah, E'sren. This is the one they were talking about." Somewhere, probably lurking, Rojeth is pleased with this bare glimspes of contact that say so very much. It probably won't be the last time he 'checks in' on these weyrlings as he adjust to this whole 'teaching' thing. "She was talking about you." That's I'zech to E'sren. "I was just looking for your name. How's the family?" He says it with such a wide sharp smile, it probably makes the inquiry sound a good deal less like friendly platitudes and a bit more like its meant to catch the bluerider off guard. As for the questions about him being a new weyrlingmaster, he tips a nod and a wave of his hand toward Sabella, who can no doubt give all the details. Caught in the back and forth of listening to one, then the other, E'sren again looks over at Sabella to receive that information. The sudden recognition and knowing he expresses says it all in his lifted eyebrows and small 'o' of a mouth: oooh. I'zech makes an impression it would seem, without even needing to actually meet someone. Still, whatever he's been hearing, he remains neutral when he regards the weyrlingmaster, since yeah that's who he is. Neutral for him being a smile and amiable nature, even if he does look a little suspicious about all of this unwarranted knowledge. "They're good. Parked by the lake in our usual spot." He leans a hip on the table and folds his arms and definitely doesn't ask more about Sabella talking about him. "How's the job?" "I talk about you all the time. I tell them all your secrets." Sabella clarifies. Not really. Who's them? What secrets? Why? She pushes her elbow in E'sren's direction, though her intent to inflict any real harm on him doesn't seem to be too heartfelt. Everyone seems to be look at her to supply pieces of information but she seems to be about done playing the facilitator of such knowledge. When I'zech waves his hand at her she stares at him with at touch of put upon vacancy to her eyes. "Excuse me?" She blinks with wide green eyes at him before glancing and to the other weyrling. "How long are they staying for?" I'zech cocks a brow at Sabella's sudden disdain. Not that she was exactly his best buddy before, but there's something extra harsh about her dead stare and he answers it with a dubious expression. He doesn't have anything to say about E'sren's family, but he will -- as he pries himself off the couch to stand and stretch like he's been sleeping on rocks instead of lounging and giving himself a long neck rub -- say that the job is... "Lousy. But we'll all live. Or so they hope." He puts on that empty smile again, the one that encourages no faith at all, and twists his hard to let a series of pops follow the turn of his spine. "All of my secrets? Ow." That elbow! Okay not really ow, but he pretends. E'sren doesn't seem to think that's very fair, and fixes a wounded look on Sabella for this betrayal. He also secretly in some part of himself has a little party for not being on the receiving end of one of her Looks. He answers her question obediently, innocently, to keep that going. "I think they're gonna be around for a while actually. My mom said a few weeks." He shrugs, out of information, but does add, "I'll introduce you soon as we can get away for a couple of hours." Which must mean they'll need that long. For I'zech, while watching the bronzerider rise, "Well you know what they say. Some are born to greatness, some achieve it, some have it thrust upon them. I guess you're the third of those, the reluctant master." Disdain? No. The expression is a lot closer to something like confusion. What's that raised eyebrow for? Sabs certainly doesn't know. She leans across the table and plucks up a few more of the charts and puts them into the tidy little pile. The notepad she was jotting things down into earlier gets flipped closed and slid into the back pocket of her servicable pants. If being vacant eyed is some sort of threatening expression, well. She's not looking at either of them right now to really notice that. "All of your secrets. I've been especially telling people about that time you went to the lake." She flickers a playful smile in his direction while she gets her study materials in order. "Oh, alright. Let me know ahead of time though." What? She's a girl. At his comment on which of 'those' I'zech happens to be, she glances towards him. "I agree. You're definitely the third one." Fine, not disdain. Or maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe disdain is just what I'zech reads in the vacancy. And either way, he's still not ready to buy into her put upon expression, whatever it is. But now that he's standing, he does amble his way toward the table, idle interest in the charts just as she's packing things up. Besides, E'sren is proving every bit as affable as the rumors would claim, enough so that I'zech tosses a smirk at him that could potentially be praise instead of dirision. "I like the sound of 'master'," he laughs shortly. Of course, Sabella has to put her two marks in. "Well, it sure as shit wasn't the first one," he'll give her. "Hey. What happens at the lake stays at the lake," E'sren warns her without actually meaning anything. Upon her agreement of his assessment, he regards I'zech again and grows a broad smile. "Who doesn't like the sound of 'master'?" he wants to know, posing that question as completely rhetorical but leaving it open just in case there are any ideas of what kind of person wouldn't. The weyrlingmaster's choice of words make him grin and he turns that grin on Sabella. "Sure as shit," he echoes, driving it home in case she didn't hear it the first time. Well, whatever it is that doesn't matter, Sabella has already moved past it. She's put most of the table back into something close to order, straightening up she plays with the pencil tucked behind her ear. 'Who doesn't like the sound of master'. There's a slight groan that comes from the back of her throat and she shakes her head. She's not going to answer that one for sure. Now they're both saying the same thing and the green weyrling is directing a look up at the ceiling of the training cavern. Her smile is rueful when she sends it at first one and then the other. The repetition of his words has I'zech confirming them with a tip of his head toward E'sren. "I'm keeping it professional," he says so dryly it's hard to tell if he's being serious or not. Letting his lazy weight settle on one leg, he lifts a hand now to scratch at the scruff of his jaw, down his neck with chin stretched high, with a sidelong look at the greenrider while she scoffs and ask the ceiling why her. "You okay there, Sabella?" He says her name like he's still enjoying the fruits of his cheating. "Did you two know each other before?" Before they impressed, but at this stage of their lives, it's kind of the Big Before. Well, probably. E'sren has been grinning at Sabella this whole time, during the groan, the helpless look up at the ceiling. He knows, he knows. "Seriously, we need a little professionalism, I think." To make up for all of this... whatever from him, sass? he tries to help her pick things up, whatever things might be left. Tries, because she might not let him. I'zech's question pauses him though and he looks at her for a moment. "Um. No. Not before I showed up here. Why do you ask?" "I'm great. Just an epiphany." That smile is still rueful as she quickly lifts her shoulders, "I'm just going to keep it to myself." It's probably not something terribly exciting but she does seem to find some amusement in it, so maybe she just wants to keep the humor all to herself. For his question there's just an honest shake of her head. For further clarification, "We didn't really know each other until afterwards. I came to the barracks later on during candidacy." While E'sren asks his question she lets her eyes drift and soon she's quietly watching the way that I'zech is scratching at the scruff on his face. Her expression shifts from self-amused to contemplative. Why ask? I'zech just shrugs, the scratch of his fingers turning into a rub, like maybe if he just gets the blood going, he'll wake up a little bit more and be able to face the rest of his shift, standing around and agreeing with woman who aren't too fond of him. It's a thrilling life he's got here. But for Sabella he remarks, "Lucky you, those barracks aren't much better than these." But he gives her an aware smile, he's caught her looking at him and it's plan he's going to assume she sees something she likes. "Behave yourselves, or something." He doesn't really care, with a turn that betrays how quick he could be when he's not slogging himself around like it's the worst thing in the world, he heads back into the barracks. Nary a goodbye. But then he'll surely see them again in no time. A shrug is answer enough, E'sren's given a few of those himself, so he accepts I'zech's with ease and a turned down mouth. The weyrlingmaster's smile though is worthy of more investigation, and he turns to look at Sabella, who may or may not be looking at I'zech, but before he can dwell too long the bronzerider is kind of saying goodbye, or maybe just leaving, and he's left with a curious expression on his face. "Bye?" Not confused or lingering on that odd exit for more than that, and left alone with the greenrider, he rounds the table to act like he's just there to help, but also reaches over to playfully pinch her side. Does she? The look she's sending after I'zech is more or less unreadable. Though after he's turned and no longer facing her direction, her lips purse together thoughtfully. She watches his disappearance back into the barracks and soon she's kneeling down to find her canvas sack, concentration of thought settling over her features. She flips the cover back and puts her hand on that beat up sketchbook, even if she's not moving to take it out. Distracted she barely notices E'sren's arrival into her personal space and the subsequent pinch. It's enough to break her out of whatever thought had begun to creep into her brain. At least for now. With a squeak she turns around and bats back at him semi-ineffectually with a laugh. "I'm going to carry these charts back to records before dinner. Do you want to come with me?" E'sren accepts batting, too, especially if it's well-deserved. He did pinch her. It's no matter what he was on his way to do, or if he had other plans, he meets her request by collecting up whatever charts or bags or tools or whatever that might be coming with them to help her carry them back. And if that wasn't answer enough, he also smiles warmly at her and says, "Yes ma'am." Once they've got everything, they start on their way, E'sren telling her about the time he's spent with his family so far, and how much they're gonna like her, and how Ahruth killed his first food, and this, that, and the other thing too. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:Greasing"K'zin (Wakizian (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 12 Apr 2013 07:11:08 GMT.
I declare this scene pure brilliance. I can't decide who I enjoyed more, so you're all hereby equally amazing. To the two of you I haven't met ICly... pretty pretty please, let's play soon!
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Sun, 14 Apr 2013 00:01:11 GMT.
*snorts* Oh man. I'zech is an interesting one. Curious to see if he's able to manage these new responsibilities... Or if the weyrlings will really put him through the wringer. xD
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