Logs:Number Crunchers
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| RL Date: 24 March, 2013 |
| Who: Cailluneth, D'kan, Kazavoth, N'ky |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: D'kan walks in on a N'ky who's struggling to cram some math into his head. |
| Where: Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 28, Month 4, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
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| Sitting with his back against the wall and Cailluneth curled halfway across his lap, N'ky is poring over a hide with absolute focus: whatever it is, it must be important. His lips twitch as he reads and works through whatever it is that's got him so rapt, hand going up in his nervous tell to clutch at what remains of his once-curls, leaving them more ruffled than before. His little green - bigger now, of course - occasionally raises her head to look at him, croon reassuringly, then settles back with her chin resting on his crooked knees, watching the world. D'kan enters from the direction of the bowl, followed a couple seconds later by his brown companion, who's now a good two feet longer than Cailluneth and already starting to fill out along the chest. Just above Kazavoth's chest, any angry, horizontal scratch is still quite present, though it appears to be healing nicely. The brown is dripping wet, and D'kan isn't all that much better from the waste down. Kazavoth notices the green pair first and chirps out a happy greeting, followed almost immediately by a wave from his rider. « I went swimming! » the brown shares gleefully, accompanied by over-glorified images of much splashing, « and I got D'kan to join me. » This sending is laced with superbly pleased self-admiration. The sight of her clutchbrother has Cailluneth scrabbling to her feet and trotting eagerly over to him, getting up close to see his scar - even flicking her tongue out to run over it. Snuffling against him, she flares her wings, rubs her headknobs across his chest - careful to avoid his healing injury - then croons warmly. N'ky watches over the top of his hide, the croon from his lifemate making him smile, despite how worried he looks. "Swimming? Cai likes swimming." He starts rolling his study scroll up, holding it tight in one hand. "Is the w-water any warmer?" To Kazavoth, Cailluneth's thoughts are all golden admiration, whirled with a hint of chartreuse jealousy that works its way in amongst the glow - not dampening how warmly she feels, but separate. Then water, cold as the Weyr's lake, washes over all but that gold, sweeping the mental landscape clear as moonlight takes charge again. She shares an image of her in the water, N'ky beside her, just as wet as D'kan is now - then fills Kazavoth's mind with nonsensical grey numbers. Grey, because she neither understands nor cares for their significance. "Shells, no," D'kan answers, dropping into a chair while Kazavoth greets Cailluneth right back. He's also being rather careful of that scratch mark, though not for the usual reasons. The weyrling removes his boots, which are just as soaked as his trousers, and actually manages to pour a little water out of both before tossing them to the side. "That lake is sharding freezing," he adds, shooting a look at Kaz... though the look is not without its small, crooked smile, and the quiet, "sharding dragon," that follows is a little too fond to be genuinely upset. To Cailluneth, Kazavoth projects, « Those numbers are processed as only they can be right now, like the bizarre shapes that they are. They are breathed into Kazavoth's mindvoice like smoke, then exhaled as nothing but droplet shaped clouds that spatter into dust motes against the moon and turn into sparkling, silver stars. » N'ky wrinkles his nose, peering at the two dragons. He crosses his arms over his chest, harrumphing softly. "It m-might get warmer in a few months." Maybe. Possibly. Perhaps. Being of 'Reaches blood, he doesn't sound convinced that it will. "Are you any g-good at arithmetic, Kae?" The scroll is wiggled up at the brown weyrling, and N'ky huffs. "I'm s-so bad. I'm g-going to fall the test." To Kazavoth, Cailluneth likes the number transformation, surrounding them in a puff of rosy smoke. Stars are far better - stars get her approval. Tendrils of pink curl out to link each glittering speck, winding their way around the moon, wrapping their night sky in loving warmth. She adds her own touch - a comet, trailing silver and copper, glassy bright and flashing with pink, whose trail burns brightly across the velvety dark sky. "Chill, we're not getting tested right this second," D'kan says reassuringly. Then pauses. "Will it be too awkward if I take off my trousers? I have shorts on. These are just sharding cold now." Then he gives that hide a glance. "I know the basics. The Hold had pretty good Harpers." He props up his boots so any more excess water can run out to the floor without him holding them. "Which part's giving you trouble?" To Cailluneth, Kazavoth watches that comet for a little while, absolutely fascinated. « What is it? » he asks wonderingly as his own consciousness tries to reach for it. Unfamiliar with it, however, his reach falls short. "Trousers?" N'ky blinks, then nods. "Oh! Y-yeah, sure... um... yeah." He'll just avert his eyes, picking up the scroll again to unfurl it and stare at the sums written there. "The n-numbers part," he moans, hanging his head. "This is why my f-folks had me shearing the ovines, ins-stead of handling trader deals." He shrugs, handing the scroll to his friend. "It d-doesn't make sense to me." What is it? Cailluneth isn't sure, other than it being pretty, and it belonging in the sky with the other pretty things. There's an association to another person there; a heated pink, a sense of warmth and comfort - love, perhaps? Feelings, for certain. She extends them towards Kazavoth in a rush of pink, excited to share - they make her and her heart, her N'ky, feel good, shouldn't they make Kazavoth feel good, too? (Cailluneth to Kazavoth) A crooked cant tries to tug D'kan's smile off center, but he resists it. Mostly. Likely picking up on the other weyrling's discomfort, he gets to his feet, grinning slightly. "Actually, I'll just go grab some clean trousers and come right back. I'll freeze otherwise." He leaves the boots where they are for now, murmuring something about bringing them to one of the hearths later on, but he grabs his sodden socks and glances over at Cailluneth and Kazavoth for a moment. Very briefly, a wondering expression crosses his face, but content to leave his lifemate in N'ky's watch for a few minutes, he takes a step toward the barracks, adding, "We'll work at it. But don't worry! Worst case, you get to work with a Harper. It's not so bad." Then, padding in pruney feet, he strides off toward Kazavoth's couch and the promise of something lake-free so he and N'ky can talk numbers without undue discomfort on either side. All that pink is absorbed just as much as any other experience, though Kazavoth can't quite seem to figure what to do with so much of it. In the end, he lets it stay just as Cailluneth set it, though he begins to weave filaments of electric blue throughout it all. As the blue strands reach the comment, they burst into a dazzling array of shooting stars, though the originals are left twinkling and untouched, solid in their night sky. For a moment, he lets the shooting starts glitter to the abstract ground, distant crackling sounds echoing faintly against their mountain stream. When glitter and crackling fall quiet, he begins a low, winding story about their day, the culmination of which will likely end in water. True creativity will come later. (Kazavoth to Cailluneth) |
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