Logs:I'zech Does Limericks
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| RL Date: 23 June, 2013 |
| Who: I'zech, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Telavi escapes a "pointless, if dramatic, death" to head back to the barracks and run into I'zech. |
| Where: Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 21, Month 1, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Rumbles and flashes of lightning intersperse between the periodic fall of snow throughout the day. There is humidity in the otherwise cold air. |
| Mentions: Meara/Mentions |
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| It's one of those days where the weather is just a bit insane: snowing, but damp and thundering such that various drills were either canceled or moved to nicer locations rather than have someone get struck by lightning and fall to a pointless, if dramatic, death. Thankfully the weyrling activities are wrapped now, and, finished with whatever mundane paper work brought him to the office, I'zech is lingering in the entranceway, looking out at the flickers of light in the darkening sky. Arms crossed and shoulder propped against the stone, he's the very picture of sullen loner. That's when Telavi hurries singlemindedly in, bundled up with her jacket and helmet and scarf, oh my, stomping right past until... she's inside by a pace or two, and there's that doubletake when she swings around, realizing. "Oh! I'zech." A quick glances sizes up assistant weyrlingmaster vs. the sky and she asks, "Planning on writing some poetry?" Because that's what sullen loner emo boys do. In some universes. I'zech certainly sees her coming, and so his gaze does shift from the cloudy, snowy sky to the approaching figure, stride all business and hurry, passing right by him. He lets his eyes follow, but not his head, and so when she realizes that he's there, he's still facing out to the bowl. And then rotating slowly as she speaks up. A smirk forms. "There once was a girl from Old Benden," he begins to recite. Was that the kind of poetry she meant? "He promised he'd just put the end in." She's circling around in the same direction, and the limerick starts out making her smile and the next line gets a laugh and really, it's just an excuse for Tela to try and hit him. Between I'zech's shoulderblades will work, or if he's too fast maybe his shoulder, or really, she'll settle for trying. "Keep going. Did you know, there was lightning when we were up there, I could swear I felt the sizzle?" She doesn't know this one already? Her playful blow lands on a shoulder, his hand lifting to deflect but not bothering to put any real effort into it. "She was such a flirt, he gave her a squirt. And now it's all babies and mending." I'zech lets out a dry laugh, attempting with the same half-heartedness to snag her wrist. "It starts better than it ends. But I didn't write it." Even in the midst of reaching to snag her, he glance back toward the bowl for just a beat. "Yeah? Your hair stood on end?" There are different versions! Telavi twists her hand at an angle into his wrist, the better to lever free, but not putting much work into that either. "Not even the mending part? Really?" She's wrinkled her nose, dubious. "No, it didn't stand on end, my braids are too powerful for that. But it would if it could have. Also, the earth shook, I'm pretty sure, somewhere." "You're lucky I wasn't around when they were cutting hair, you know," I'zech points out when she mentions her braids, sucking his teeth as he lets her wrist go even though she wasn't fighting that much to get away. "So all the elements rose against you and here you are. Do you feel like you snatched life right from the jaws of oblivion or... whatever?" His empty hand rubs once over his head before he tucks his arms into a fold again. Undoubtedly, beneath her helmet, her braids cringe at the very mention like so many disturbed snakes. "Alida's is longer," Tela points out cheekily, as though that would help. Leaning against the stone where he'd propped himself earlier, even with all that extra energy, "Let's say I do. 'There once was a girl from old Benden / who wished her Weyr's problems would end 'em.'" She waves to I'zech, his turn. "She's lucky too," is all that proves about Alida. But isn't Telavi lively this evening -- must be that near-death experience. I'zech makes a quick face, brows pulled together and a half-grimace, half-smirk tugged to one side. But she can go ahead and take his spot on the stone, though he doesn't back away to leave her much room. Instead, he cocks his head at her proposed game, and finishes it off with, "But she's a dumb twit, if she thinks in that snit, there's anyone there worth defendin'." He punctuates it with cluck of his tongue. Telavi shuts up about the hair, she's got that much short-term sense even if, if she does wind up dying some sort of hairy death someday, it isn't necessarily long-term. Besides, that way she gets to kick back and listen, one leg crossed neatly over the other at the ankle... and then applaud. "That almost wasn't 'snit,' was it." "Think it works better as 'shit'?" I'zech wonders, mouth twisting in dubious consideration while he lets his glance drift downward toward the crossing of her legs. His eyes narrow tightly, but they just go on looking over her legs. "What are you hear for, anyway?" At least he's moved on from vague threats to her hair. "No. Do you care why?" Tela doesn't notice his attention right away, but when she does she shifts, crossing them in the opposite direction. "In answer: 'It's dry.'" Unlike all those other places that may be dry, but don't rhyme. The rhyming makes him shakes his head, wearing the kind of weak smile a person might wear when they've decided there's no point in fighting the senselessness of the world and girls who want to play rhyming games. "Your weyr is dry, too. Solith kick you out?" I'zech asks, lifting a hand to scratch a thumbnail through the scruff of his jaw. "Solith would never kick me out," Telavi states with confidence. "Not even for a... bout. Boat? Bout, like fighting, I think. Or maybe a bout of homework. No, I was just... is Meara in?" "If she does decide to kick you out for a boat, let me know," I'zech says with short laugh and the general sense that that's a show he'd like to see. "Looking for her or wanting to avoid her?" he wonders, lifting his glance to skim past Telavi toward the office door with no clues as to whether or not the old weyrlingmaster is within. The weyrling tilts her head enough to follow I'zech's glance, and then to look at him looking. "Is it true that she's going to retire, officially I mean, any second now?" In some circles, that might be an answer to his wonderings. "Not that I've heard," I'zech answers with a shrug. "Hardly matters though, does it? You guys will graduate any second now anyway." He rolls toward her, a hand coming out to brace on the wall over her shoulder, looming and leaning with a steady gaze on her face. And then he tips his head for her to carry on to the office if she's going. "Not any second," Tela protests. "And besides," but then she falls silent at the taller rider's movement, glance staying with his and then falling only to, more slowly, rise to meet his again. Her eyes have widened, just fractionally. There's a moment of stillness and then, skittish, she slips under his arm and towards the office: yes, he can have his wall back. It's a feral smile that cracks over his face when Telavi goes all skittish in his shadow, and it lingers as she slips away. I'zech watches as she walks away, but it's not to reclaim his wall that he's sent her off, since he pushes off from the stone to stroll out in the bowl with only the hunch of shoulders to care for the weather. |
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