Logs:Help me-- wait, no...
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| RL Date: 26 July, 2014 |
| Who: Alida, G'laer, Ilicaeth, Teisyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: G'laer asks for help from Alida, but it doesn't go well. |
| Where: Teisyth's Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 10, Month 5, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Oliwer/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. Four days before G'laer quits assisting Quinlys. |
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| Teisyth's Ledge, High Reaches Weyr A broad and welcoming ledge, wide enough to accommodate two medium-sized dragons slants slightly towards the Bowl, turns of landings on its edge having worn the stone down to a smooth finish. Along one side of the ledge a rocky outcropping hugs the outward curve of the ledge, providing some shelter against wind and rain for a tiny terraced garden. Currently, the beds contain a variety of herbs, sturdy plants that in the right season give off the heady scents of sage, rosemary and thyme. The wide maw of the weyr opens up onto a fairly standard couch-space, with hooks in the walls and a storage container for dragon-care equipment. A sturdy woolen curtain separates couch from weyr to keep out the elements.
She's out of bed, but not yet fully dressed after a bath. There's 'personal work' to be done before the 11th hour's Wing meeting - then up to a two hour round of Glacier's formation drills after lunch - and she wants the rest of the day after such to laze about on Ista's black beaches. With the arrival of that recognized brown and the reading of the message came not only a narrowing focus of green eyes, but also Alida's whirlwind assembly of all she might need...all that was requested. Even in a such a state, the blonde remained cool enough to check off everything on her mental list: bow and arrows, plain clothing, various small blades stored all about her person, a spear, some boiled-leather armor with tightly-linked chains of thin steel to guard her torso...and her father's sword. The last two things she'd not had until recently, or not carried with potential 'death purpose' to humans in Turns. Her own flit drubbed in mud (to Pyrite's glum dislike) to make her a dingy greyed-brown, settled upon the bluie's off shoulder, the woman vaulted to Ilicaeth's foreleg, then climbed up to neck...the blue soon conducting them upon a thermal up to the higher weyr. Here's to hoping a certain Healer's not about to get flustered. Once the blue's landing in a near-skid, rumbling a terse greeting to Teisyth, 'lida's skittering down to stone, then walking with a heavier step (and a faint chinking of mail against hardened leather) deeper within the greenrider's weyr. No invitation needed, obviously. It's been no more than 12 minutes since that message arrived, and she's now standing there, looking ready for bear...and staring with a hint of dark surprise and one raised brow at sickly G'laer supported by his lifemate. Okaaaaaay. She really doesn't have to go into the weyr, since G'laer and Teisyth are right there, G'laer's body blocked from the pre-dawn chill more by the green than the stonework behind them. "I need your help." Probably, Oliwer has given him some something that makes it easier for those words to come out of his mouth. Or maybe it's just that there's no time to waste. "We don't have time for a lot of questions." He sounds funny, nose stuffed and throat sore. "There's danger and I cannot meet it myself. Will you in my stead?" which doesn't exactly tell Alida anything. But clearly, she wasn't asked to gear up to break him out of captivity. Notice that possessive curve of Teisyth's hooked tail where it is around G'laer's ankles? Ready to trip him should he attempt to make a break for Ilicaeth's neck? She was sort-of expecting a dual effort, but now that G'laer's seen to be ill with some kind of bad bug, Alida isn't quite as stoked as before. "Apparently y' must've immediately infected, incapacitated everyone I thought was holding ya." Lip-twist. Yes; given her usual alert demeanor, there's indeed some eyeballing of Teisyth's manner, the green's restraint of G'laer, but there's perhaps more important things going on to waste too much time on it. Alida understands protective lifemates, though hers usually insists in being in on things with the guard. Still... "Tell me exactly what I might be doin', where, and why, first. I'll letcha know soon enough." It's not a guarantee of her 'professional' services, but the blonde's not turning her back on the man either. For his own part, Ilicaeth - his orange-flecked blue eyes spinning rapidly - dips into the draconic side of this equation with an arid, scouring, « Are you holdin' 'im back 'cause he's sick? » Or is there some darker, more hidden reason why the male guard's not handling his own 'business?' "What?" Humor, they say, is the best medicine, but in the thick of this flu, G'laer's not following, not immediately. It's the rumble from Teisyth that seems to put it together for him. "Oh. Oh. Oliwer," he waves a hand in the air as if that should explain everything. Nevermind that it doesn't. "That's not important now. Listen." He's serious for all that the blanket around his shoulders makes him look a little bit more like an old man than usual. "There's a woman and her two children that are in trouble. They need to be relocated. Now, right now, or they might not see the sunrise let alone the sunset. I'd go myself but-" He gestures at Teisyth, his captor. It's with a snort that Teisyth answer Ilicaeth, « He fell, twice on the way out to this ledge to speak with Alida. » And that is proof even she can see of his unfitness. « And he's seeing things. » Because that should make them feel better about doing him this favor. "Shut up." It's sharp to the green and she huffs. Sick G'laers are Not Nice G'laers. "If you go now, you might avoid trouble of any kind. Teisyth will give Ilicaeth the visualization. First for where they are now and later for where you are going with them. They'll travel light." There's a pause, "And I need you to burn the place to the ground on your way out. Make it seem to the untrained eye that they must've been consumed in the flame. Will you do it?" So, that's not all the answers she wanted, but it's more than other times she's wanted them. "Never mind..." Alida mutters to the thick guy hanging from Teisyth's tail, a faint shake of her head and wave-off of hand offered to G'laer, even before he moves on. Indeed, she's pretty much all business, the armored and armed bluie concentrating fully on what her counterpart has to say, then finally answering him with a low, "R 'n R." Her smirk is only faintly humored. At least to the Guard contingent at Pars, those initials didn't necessarily mean 'Rest and Relaxation,' but 'Removal and Renovation.' G'laer's choice words to Teisyth bring a half-smirk this time, and a chuff from Ilicaeth, who ripostes, « When you two get back inside, ask 'im if 'e' wants some lukewarm, pulled pork. » To the ill man's last inquiry, there's a small bob of head, then a low murmur of, "Individual building, I take it?" Or else, she'd be burning a whole holding to the ground. Out of habit and concern for her own and Ilicaeth's hides, there's an clipped inquiry of, "How solid're the visualizations? You used 'em before?" Pause. "They gonna give me any problems, since it ain't you coming ta pick 'em up?" G'laer blinks blankly at her for the repeated letter, but divining its meaning isn't important now. « He throws up everything. » Teisyth relates helpfully, « It's like ash, but worse. » Because it's certainly not only firestone ash. "Yes." Individual building. "Yes." He's used the visualizations before. "No." They won't give her trouble. Simple answers, but none overly telling. It is typical of G'laer, but perhaps especially because time is of the essence. She gets the bare bones of what she needs, given this is a rush job, though Alida doesn't have to like being under-informed. Just as terse as G'laer, she merely grunts, bobs her head, lets her hands pat sheathed sword at her hip, her knives, and the already-strung bow with quiver of arrows draped and strapped respectively over her back...and then moves back to Ilicaeth, the blue foregoing his usual crouch in favor of offering an upturned paw for his rider to kneel on. He carefully lifts his lifemate as close to his neck-shoulder junction as possible, and soon enough the woman's smoothly jumping the pair of feet onto warm, tough dragonhide, finally snapping herself firmly into harness. « Okay; take the visualization from G'laer, then relay it exactly the same ta me. » The usually casual blue insists on speaking carefully, this time: the now exacting, brusque warrior not trusting their lives to even the tiniest anomaly. As he waits for the image, the craggy blue quietly pivots about - avoiding crowding both Teisyth and wobbly G'laer by keeping all his limbs as close as possible to his body - and then slowly stretches his eye-marked wings wide as he crouches deeply at the very edge of the greenpair's ledge. Teisyth sits up, a mixture of surprise and something else, eyes suddenly whirling swiftly, the color bleeding out blue green with hints of yellow in favor of a strong orange with splashes of grey as she looks at the older blue. G'laer narrows his eyes at the same beast. "On second thought, this wasn't a good idea." He looks up to his dragon giving her a long look, his hand shifting on the side that's already helping support him, a ghost of a caress. "Thank you for your time, Alida." It's a dismissal, if a polite one. If Ilicaeth reaches for Teisyth, there's a wall there now, one of rusted metal and junky smith bits, but a wall nonetheless. Whoa. Okaaaay... What "...the fuck?" Alida blinks with incomprehension, and then sudden concern plus irritation down at G'laer. Ilicaeth, too, swivels his great head, first staring at Teisyth's change of moods, then tilting his head down to peer at G'laer as well, his own eyes now of mixed colors as his own and Alida's emotions whirl within. "Ohhhh noooo you don't..." the blonde growls out low from her perch atop her dragon's neck, suddenly wary. "If this is a real job, you ain't got time fer wafflin'. An' if it's not..." Stare. "You got'a shell uv'a lotta' explaining ta do." Her manner - Ilicaeth's as well - is all sorts of 'shit or get off the pot.' To Teisyth, the now harder, rather irked blue mentally scours the green with furnace-hot, ochre sands...one coppery claw tapping out an impatient rhythm upon stone, then scraping across it in jarring fashion. G'laer might be sick, very sick, but he's still G'laer. "I'm not waffling. You were the easiest option, not the only option. And I think you both should go now." There's no give in Teisyth's wall in the face of Ilicaeth's failed attempt to scour her. For all that it seems a ramshackle sort of thing it's completely solid. Blocking unwanted touches out is something she no doubt learned from her lifemate. "We're sorry to have troubled you, but after that?" He looks to Ilicaeth, "We don't owe you anything." Matter of fact. Another look to Teisyth. There's obviously more going on now than is being said aloud between the two; likely, arrangements for whatever the back-up plan was. She could so very easily allow her growing irritation to quickly build into anger, Alida's eyes narrowing dangerously at G'laer as her hackles continue to rise. But - with a snap back to reason - the woman suddenly remembers that this current circumstance has happened before, sometimes, when she was only a guard, Turns ago...and more than once. The only difference between then and now is that she used to be part of a chain, in regard to her 'work.' Now, it's just her and Ilicaeth. Instantly, her ingrained, more professional demeanor insinuates itself into the blonde's brain, turning her upset aside, channeling it into a different vein, while her demeanor cools, hardens... a crisp nod given. The woman, however, doesn't offer G'laer - as she silently signals her blue to begin to launch himself into the air - a formal salute. Not only are the two riders now of equal rank, but Alida herself feels absolutely no compunction to offer her contemporary any sign of respect, at this point. After all, she and her lifemate revved themselves up to performance intensity for his sake...and now are left dangling. |
Comments
Edyis (03:25, 3 September 2014 (EDT)) said...
I am starting to think G'laer should be locked in a nice padded room while sick. It was awful nice of Alida not to knock his teeth out for the false alarm. Fun Read.
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