Logs:Igen Pretty Boy
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| RL Date: 8 October, 2014 |
| Who: Alida, Ilicaeth, J'taryn, Njebrith |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Igen Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: A chance meeting with a known (and pretty~) face. |
| Where: Igen Hold Gather |
| When: Day 11, Month 13, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Jaecar "Farsights"/Mentions, Q'sarin/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Slightly forward dated, because gather! |
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| It might be hard to say for the average gather-goer if Igen Hold's gather is better or worse attended than in months or turns past, given all the upheaval and the leprosy of recent times, because being among the crowd, there seem certainly plenty of bodies and plenty of dragons about to fill the best spaces anyway. Among the dragons settled where the sun shone the best before it set, and now, without that nice heat to occupy his attentions, it's the dragons about him that are earning his chatty nonsense. At least one green has had the pleasure of him asking, « Why? » repeatedly to just about everything she says. His rider seems to be less obnoxiously occupied leaning against one of the thick poles which support the dance pavilion at its outer edge. His expression is pleasantly bland, blue eyes following the dancers, and he's nursing a mug of beer, sipping at it now and again. Just another face in the crowd. Alida has little fear of the disease, really, and not terribly much of that particular emotion most times, anyway, and as such, the bluerider can be found not only enjoying food and drink, but the local wares, as well. In a satchel hung canted diagonally across her shoulder, the woman carries a few things she's managed to haggle booth-owners down to somewhat fairer prices over: a set of tuning forks in a leather case, some sachets of sandalwood for Ilicaeth's couch, and a very diaphanous, sisal negligee for some of her more summery 'visits' to Jaecar. She too is pretty much just another face in the milling, celebrating crowd, though that hair of hers can often enough be called 'stand-out,' the long plait of its braid presently swaying heavily - like a bright pendulum of sorts - about her hips as the 'Reachian moves towards some table or another to avail herself of a brew. Up on high - his wings finally retracting as the warmth of the sun dies away - Ilicaeth stirs himself from what turned into a lengthy half-doze, listens in to what his fellow dragons are conversing about, and then neatly inserts his jocular self into the conversations at will. « Hey, » Ilicaeth, « Hey, » Ilicaeth, « Heeeey, » Ilicaeth, « Listen! » Njebrith has a chirpy voice, « Why did the blue cross the bowl? » Already there's barely contained mental giggling from the bronze in anticipation of a response from the 'Reaches dragon who has been thusly singled out. Judging from the groans that can be felt more than heard from the surrounding dragons, he's not the first to be subjected to this line of questioning. The cup runneth dry, as they say, and it happens in time with the bluerider securing her own, so the blonde Igen rider is stepping up to the server as he finishes taking the white-blonde's drink order to add his own, a smile offered over to Alida pleasantly once the server has taken his leave. The bronzerider lingers there, as he surely must, to receive his drink. Hoo man, he picked a real one, it seems. With a dry, wry twist of mental lips, the gritty 'Reachian blue makes the standard inquiry of, « Why? » Ilicaeth already mentally thumping his head a few times on his forelegs, much as a human might head-desk. At least the chirpyness of said bronze is a rather different 'feel' from enough others of that coloration, which makes Njebrith at least passingly interesting. Far below, while appropriating her own drink, Alida notes the Igenite rider...and doubletakes. Green eyes stare quite openly at 'pretty boy' (as she once labeled him), blink, and then slam themselves back to the beer vendor. While a couple tiny marks pieces are handed over - soon exchanged for a fresh, slightly-cool beer - the 'Reachian bluie tries for a nod back to the bronzer. It's rather awkward. Njebrith can't even get through the whole answer without stopping to giggle several times, « To get to the other side! » He's so proud of his joke. "Funny," the bronzerider's baritone is tolerant, if not truly amused. It can't have been for Alida, but she's near enough to hear certainly, and staring. "Do I have bubbly on my face?" He asks the bluerider congenially, one hand rising to pet across the sparse stubble of his five o'clock shadow. « Yep... Heard that one before... » Ilicaeth rumbles with restrained tolerance to Njebrith's staid old punchline, the blue privately groaning with those other dragons who did such before. He tries to rescue the early evening, however, by launching into a short tale of a brown he once met (about a sevenday ago) at Ista, the dragons about him regailed with how said brown managed to not only find an irate spiderclaw clamped to his hinder, but just how that crustacean got there in the first place...to leave the brown yelping in embarrassed pain until his rider could locate it and remove the sea life. Beyond the dragons, Alida's accepting her beer, then turning around while simultaneously side-stepping to respond a little suspiciously to the Igenite's 'funny' with, "Eh?" Quickly enough, the blonde recovers, shakes her plaited head once to his inquiry, then mumbles in her mile-a-second alto, "Think I... just saw ya once before." Sip. She looks a little uneasy, but - if the man knew 'lida - he might understand the reasons for such. Njebrith isn't helpful to this telling. He asks more questions than there are stars in the sky, most of which have quite obvious answers. It's not until an Igen green cuts in with a scalding, « Go sit over there, Njebrith. And be quiet or I'll have Q'sarin get J'taryn to make you leave. » That has the desired effect and the bronze goes off to sulk in the spot he was instructed, only bemoaning the isolation every now and again. "Good, no bubbly then." The rider answers, "The-- 'funny', my dragon." He shakes his head, leaning to accept his mug from the vendor and offer over the marks. "Did you now. I do get about. Been riding enough turns to do that." He offers over a hand, politely, "J'taryn, rider of Njebrith at Igen." Ilicaeth feels just a tad sorry for the isolation of Njebrith, but the questioning bronze brought it on himself, so the blue simply continues on with his rather humorous tale, witnessed while he was louging on one of Ista's black sand beaches. Those names are stored away for later bouncing off his human's mind. Alida, on the other hand, is more quiet than her lifemate, making a small 'oh' face at the bronzer's word of his dragon, then slowly offering her own hand to shake his firmly, but not hard. "Igen... " Yes, it's likely him, then, unless he has a twin brother or a rare look-alike. "Alida, Ilicaeth's...'Reaches." She's not coloring at the cheeks at being this close to the 'pretty boy,' but the guard does seem a bit off, somehow. Reason matters not to Njebrith. He sulks on! "Enjoying the gather?" J'taryn asks as he reclaims his hand and takes a swallow of his beer after using it to gesture at the pavilion and the greater rows of stalls and tents beyond. If he notices anything particularly off, he has manners enough not to comment on it. "It's pretty decent, yeah..." Alida murmurs to J'taryn, the woman peering at him askance from the corner of her eyes, then suddenly jerking her chin at him to join her as she heads towards one of the less-packed feasting tables. "Nice 'n warm, here..." is commented if he joins her on the walk over, the blonde then casting her gaze upward to the fire heights, where Ilicaeth's shadowed, bulk is pretty much unrecognizable from enough other dragons'. "Lots 'a people, given circumstances." "Igen always does their best," the comment is wryly delivered and the subtle shades of his Igen-born accent are there in the words where it wasn't moments before. He hesitates a moment before stepping to follow. "Igen is a land of extremes. Shouldn't wonder if we'll see snow tonight some places," snow that won't last if it comes at all in the arid desert that Igen is largely known to be. "The circumstance do seem to have circulated, but little more can be expected, I suppose," he seems about to say more when he straightens, sighing, "Pardons, Alida. I've got to-" It's a vague sort of apologetic look, "my dragon." While that doesn't completely explain, perhaps she'll understand, being a rider herself, and perhaps especially once Ilicaeth has a thought for sharing his limited knowledge of the bronze in question. He doesn't wait, perhaps he can't before turning and heading in the direction of the landing area just as white-bronze Njebrith launches from the spot of banishment with an almost exultant cry of « NEENER NEENER! » back at the green as he wings away, presumably to meet him. "Snow up on at least some uv the highest steppes, fer sure..." the woman murmurs in return to J'taryn, a faint hint of humor touching one corner of her mouth at her and Ilicaeth's better-than-typical knowledge of Igen, given the blue's deep enjoyment of it. There's some nodding at the bronzer's word of circumstance, the bluie noting quietly, "Can't let yerself be scared away by things all the time, 'r one'd never go anywhere, do anything." Shrug. And then it's obviously dragon time, though 'lida greets the Igenite's word of his incipient leavetaking with a faint frown this time, instead of her usual shrug of aplomb. For a moment, her gaze turns a little inward, green eyes then focusing once more on the man. "Ilicaeth says the others got irked that yours was... interrupting his tale." Eyeroll. "Hope it ain't anything too bad." Still, she can't help but smirk just a little. The blue *is* a fun humorist...mostly. "Enjoy..." is quickly called to the retreating bronzerider, Alida unable to stop herself from glancing at J'taryn's back and butt before she turns away to settle at her chosen table, and drink up. The rest of the Gather that night is spent eating, drinking, and sometimes wondering about men, dragons, and the occasional plague. |
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