Logs:Relaxation Is The Word
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| RL Date: 14 October, 2013 |
| Who: Arekoth, Dilan, H'kon, Iesaryth, Lansha, Lilabet, Madilla, Vhaeryth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: H'kon's waiting for Madilla and family is interrupted by Lansha. Lansha tries to have a conversation with a H'kon wall. Madilla shows up eventually. Dragons trade jibes throughout. |
| Where: Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 24, Month 13, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Snowy. |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions |
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| Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr A clutch is a bit of a draw; a clutch in winter, much more so. The galleries welcome a good number of people into their warmth after the evening meal; pairs or small groups are smattered all about, those who seek the general ambiance farther up the benches, those who are either very cold, or actually interested in the eggs, nearer the edge of the sands. Unforutnately for him, it's in this more populated area that H'kon finds himself, a jacket stretched out alongside him to save some of this prime seating space, a tense look to his features. Lansha trudges into the cavern, weary after a long day in the kitchens. A hodgepodge of not-unpleasant aromas still cling to his clothes. At least it's not a stable-mucking day. A happy smile crosses his face, however, as the clutch comes into view, a sight always sure to relieve fatigue. He sidles his way into a bench near the sands, taking a seat on the other side of the rider's jacket. Having only just convinced a greenrider not to sit with him, Lansha's arrival turns tension to consternation on the compact brownrider's face. H'kon's head tilts up, and he seems ready to speak - but abandons whatever words he'd been preparing once that candidate seems, at least, to have come to a stop. Instead, Lansha gets a sort of approving nod, and a bit of a grunt. Good. Lansha gazes at the eggs for a few moments, his eyes picking out each one. He turns and nods to the rider next to him, seeming oblivious to the mood written on the other's face. "Nothing like watching eggs to relax you after a hard day, is there?" And H'kon watches the entrance. When the candidate speaks, he refocuses, first on the sands, and then, after a moment, to Lansha. "What is it you're watching for?" Lansha shrugs, the carefree smile still across his face. "Oh, nothing in particular, I just like to look at them every now and then. Although I like that little pink one. Isn't it cute? If I had any marks to bet I'd bet it's a green. What about you, got any predictions for any of the eggs?" "Ah," H'kon says, though there's not a full understanding in the slight narrowing of his eyes, or the delay before he nods his head once more. "Because it relaxes you to do so." A hand is extended over his jacket, protectively, as he glances at a pair eyeing up the space between himself and the candidate. As such, "I've only just come to see them. And do not take part in the betting." Life. Of. The Party. Lansha leans back and laces his hands behind his head, elbows out to either side. He sighs and closes his eyes, letting the stress ebb away. "Yep. Like I said, nothing better. I thought I was getting worked hard before I was Searched. I'm still doing most of the stuff I was doing before, just more of it! Every morning I'm sore and stiff." He smirks and his eyes crack open, glancing over at the older man. "And not in a good way, if you know what I mean." He reaches down with his right hand and rubs at his neck muscles. "I could use a backrub. How about you, would you like a backrub? I'm really good at them now." H'kon's eyes play over Lansha for just a moment as the boy speaks. After that, he's back to watching the entrance. He's looking there when he delivers a didactic, "Caring for a growing dragon is constant work." His gaze is hard on the boy next to him again when he turns the offer down with a simple, "No," and a much belated, and seemingly forced, "thank you." Lansha gives a pouty little frown, but it disappears with a shrug of his shoulders. "Suit yourself." He nods as the rider delivers his short lesson. "Oh, I know I'm in for it if I Impress. It'll probably make this seem like paradise. L'drel and Shani used to go on and on about when they were weyrlings." His eyes get a bit misty as he speaks of his parents. He glances over at the entrance, where the rider's eyes keep returning. "Waiting for someone? I see you're saving a seat." A name like 'Shani' doesn't make H'kon go misty-eyed. No, it carves a few furrows into his brow, and makes him sit a bit straighter. "Did they." This time, the eye-up that Lansha gets has a tinge of the suspicious. And of course, the brownrider will answer the second question with a terse, "Yes." Lansha catches the sudden change in H'kon's demeanor and blinks a bit. "Oh! Not that one. Just Shani, not Aishani. No relation." He giggles. "Common mistake. She rides Blue Ondurith. Dad rides Green Tendrath." And that just makes H'kon scowl. "Clearly," comes from a crooked mouth, and he, at last, gives up watching the entrance in favour of glancing to the gallery ledges, and then, after only a moment, turning his attention to the sands. From the sands, Vhaeryth all of a sudden yawns, hugely, white teeth gleaming in the dimness of the sands. Lansha pulls his long legs up onto the bench so that his heels rest on the bench and his chin rests on his knees. He wraps his arms around his shins. "Does it show? Just a little?" He grins. "'The redfruit doesn't fall far from the tree,' he used to tell me that all the time." He looks up as the bronze yawns impressively, then chuckles and watches the eggs quietly. "Hm?" H'kon looks back to the boy, looks confused (and annoyed by that). His forehead's going to just stay all wrinkled like that. Maybe it's stuck. "Ah. As you say." He straightens again, this time when Vhaeryth's movement draws his attention. The scowly face stays. And somewhere up in the ledges, a hook-nosed brown peers down, all fierce in aspect, if only for the angle. Lansha uncurls from his seat on the bench, then stands and stretches his arms above his head. He seems to gain half a foot in height when he does this, then settls back on his heels. "Well, I certainly enjoyed the scintillating conversation and dazzling wit, but I'm afraid I must be going. Long day tomorrow, and all that. Night-night!" He waves to H'kon, then turns and heads out of the benches and back toward the caverns. From the sands, As though he can sense the attention, the bronze glances up, obsidian wings layering across his back. « I can see up your nose, » he notes to Arekoth, whether he truly can or not. « 'A pleasant surprise is waiting for you.' » "Indeed," H'kon answers Lansha, looking sidelong at the candidate as he takes his leave, the brownrider's head taking on the slightest motion, from side to side, in the boy's wake. « I can see your ass, » Arekoth answers, wings restless on his shoulders. Once Lansha is gone, H'kon leans to try and spread the jacket out a little more. Before anyone else might come along. From the sands, Naturally Vhaeryth has to stretch, long neck curving as he glances back and down towards his haunches. « And a muscular one it is, too, » he says, unabashedly proud as Bijedth. From the sands, Thankfully, Iesaryth is mostly asleep. Mostly. Enough that she can ignore Arekoth and leave Vhaeryth to annoy him. Her bright tail curls more tightly about herself, over her eyes. So tired. « Must be from all that intense sitting it's been doing, » quips Arekoth, turning his head and extending a wing to get at an itch with the very tips of his teeth. An itch much more interesting than that foreign bronze, clearly. From the sands, « It's hard work, » Vhaeryth agrees, volatile eyes attracted to the curve of that tail, admiring even now. « But they're my eggs. » From his queen. Need he say more? Oh yes, he does, yawning yet again. Kindly, « I am sorry you itch. It is too bad that your rider does not take time to oil you more often. 'Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.' » Enter Madilla, stage left. Or rather, more accurately: enter Madilla's children, hand-in-hand and gleeful, making a mad dash for the front of the galleries. "I bet they're pretty hard, now. Maybe not hard enough to hatch, but they wouldn't break-- not that we're going to touch them, of course." Dee all but throws himself at the railing, the better to get a proper look; it's Lilabet who finds H'kon and grins, shrugging. "Hi H'kon. Mama's coming, I promise. She didn't want to run for some reason." From the sands, The queen in question does like being admired. Or having her eggs admired. And look, more admirers! Iesaryth might be too good to pay attention to Arekoth, but Dee and Lilabet are interesting enough for the tail to slip down, one bright eye to open. H'kon had nearly got all settled back, arms crossed and that Face in full force. Alas, kids kind of break it. He's leaning forward and halfway through a reach for the back of the boy's shirt when Dilan stops, and so the boy goes ungrabbed. H'kon even tries a smile, just for Lilabet. "Was she carrying any brimming containers?" Daww. And Arekoth just keeps on with his would-be preening. « Just that some of us get out in the elements. You know, fly, do things. The ones not whipped by their glowing girlies. » Everyone ignore the short man by the rail, please. From the sands, Perhaps Vhaeryth really is that impervious to implication, the way he hadn't been when /Arekoth/ had a clutch to hang around, or Iesaryth's just that distracting. He's looking at her and that eye of hers, not the kids, though his wings do happen to fan out grandly. « Yes, we do, » he agrees. « It is important. Just now, my eggs are more important. » If those wings happen to twitch at their very tips, as though from the brown's reminder of the fun of flight, so be it. "No, I think she just didn't want to fall flat on her face in the snow," says Lilabet, with the confidence of a girl who would never do such a thing... or if she did, clearly it would be on purpose, and intended for comedy. "She's-- Dee, wave to Iesaryth and Vhaeryth. It's polite." The boy strains on his toes, but doesn't seem to be in present danger of falling off. His wave is, unsurprisingly, enthusiastic. A moment later, the sound of footsteps at the entrance marks Madilla's rather more sedate arrival. "I suppose," H'kon allows, his forward lean turning into a resting of elbows on knees as he clasps his hands before him, "that would also require a certain amount of finesse." He watches Dilan, watches Isearyth, carefully. It's only just as she's up to them that he reaches to swipe his jacket from the bench. On the ledges, even a dragon such as Arekoth can't bring himself to deny that eggs are pretty important. He stretches his own wing, folds it back, and then sets to caring for the other one. « Guess a little extra pudge around the middle must be worth it. » From the sands, Look! Waving! Vhaeryth's distracted, padding across the sands to curve his neck and tip his head down towards the rail. Not within touching range, mind. Not unless Dilan lunges. « Hm? 'He who seeks will find.' » There are too many people around for Madilla's smile towards H'kon to be more than simply fond - or for her to do more than slide onto the bench beside him after pulling off her own coat. "Dee, don't lean too--" She stops, half an eye trained on Vhaeryth, but not in a way that suggests wariness. In any case, Lily's put an arm on her brother's shoulder, though she half looks like she'd like to take it back so that she can stifle her giggles when the boy says, "Not as good as a brown, though. Hello!" Oh, the line is so crossed. Vhaeryth's approach finds Arekoth puffing up his wings and strutting closer to the edge of the ledge. Really, Dilan's declaration is well-timed, before the brown has time to do a swoop or something equally stupid. Koth stays puffed, and makes all sorts of clicking sorts of noises, a bid for Dilan's attention, albeit a slightly less offensive one. Maybe. H'kon does his best to muffle a bark of a laugh in a cough, and halfway succeeds. « Smart boy, my boy. » And the brownrider turns to Madilla, and gives her a far-too-approving nod and smile as sort-of greeting. From the sands, What? What?! Vhaeryth outright snorts at the two... three... four... before tossing his head; something about his spine makes those ridges spike upward even more as he stalks back in high dudgeon to his mate. « You have him fooled, » he says to Arekoth rather than her. « He will not have one of /my/ eggs. » From the sands, Iesaryth has to give a bit of a snort too, from her lazy curl. She'll lift her head only to greet her mate on his return, so maligned. If she keeps an eye on things in the galleries from where she is, she keeps it to herself. But. « Our eggs. » Otherwise: yeah! Even Madilla has to try pretty hard to hold back a snort of laughter; the glance she aims at H'kon is rather more amused than that, though she doesn't actually say anything. Dee's eyes grow wide at Vhaeryth's reaction, a reaction that might have prompted tears - or something equally dramatic - except that Arekoth's antics are obvious and distracting... and he can't help but beam and wave enthusiastically as he turns to catch sight of the brown. "I don't think he likes me!" he calls, which is quite enough to send Lily off into a paroxysm of giggles, though the glance she aims towards dam and sire is rather more sympathetic. She likes their eggs. « He's holding out for better eggs. Like my next ones will be, » is specifically for Vhaeryth. Iesaryth, she doesn't even rightly get a glance. He has no beef with her, and he has a five-turn-old to entertain. So while Koth spreads his wings for Dilan's benefit, H'kon goes back fully into his lean, even reaching out to tap at the kid's shoulder. "It's a special friendship you and Arekoth have." And, lean back, like a slow-motion stop at high speed. Finally, Madilla does get a bit more attention. "I see you made it safely through the snow." From the sands, Vhaeryth /is/ maligned. « There you go. None of /our/ eggs, » to Iesaryth but all too audible beyond her. Maybe the girl can have one. /Maybe/. She might have been contaminated. He ignores Arekoth as only an affronted bronze can, sprawling showily alongside Iesaryth, never mind that the twitch has spread to the tip of his tail. Which is to say, he can't seem to keep ignoring him. « Poor boy. He will wait a long time. » The boy's face, blurry with disinterest, except for a nice sharp gray beard. Also, Dilan's balding. Shoulder taps are distracting, but not enough so that Dilan stops staring at Arekoth-the-entertaining. "He's awesome," he tells H'kon, without turning. "Want one just like him one day!" Just. Like. Him. And not at all like poxy Vhaeryth (sorry). "Lily's been telling tales again, has she?" wonders Madilla, with a laugh - her daughter, listening in, gives her a glance, all innocence. "I did. As you see. At least they're out clearing paths again." Arekoth takes his eyes from Dilan only long enough to peer after Vhaeryth. « Is that supposed to be one of your eggs? Looks moldy. » Dilan is then given a display of teeth, which chomp together, oh-so-impressively. Seriously, who wouldn't want a dragon just like him? H'kon has regained enough of himself to pointedly ignore that brown up there, almost as skillfully as Vhaeryth was doing just now. "I imagine they'll be busy with it regularly, this winter," musings done in time to an absent rub of right-hand fingers to his left wrist. "The skies have that feel, of late." From the sands, Vhaeryth yawns hugely yet again, his own jaws not getting around to chomping. His tongue happens to be sticking out, though, which could explain it. Madilla's gaze drops towards that wrist, watching it as if, if she stares long enough, it will tell her something, too. Alas, she's surrounded by things that don't talk to her. "I was afraid of that," she says, with a sigh. "I'm already ready for it to be spring, and here we are, not even at Turnover." Dilan's childish giggles ring out, unrestrained, as he leans back to get a better view of Arekoth. Luckily, his sister is there to keep a hold on him, even if she's still watching the dragons on the sands, and their eggs as well. "At the least," H'kon offers, almost somber for a moment, "it will provide work for the growing numbers in the caverns." His mouth tugs at something like a smile when he leans, just slightly, with the quieter addition of, "And also reason to keep warm, hm?" That should be mostly covered by Dilan's laughing. Arekoth happily goes on strutting about, chest puffed, antics cycling through one after the other. H'kon is soon looking back to the sands, and finally, at the mounds of eggs. Madilla is somber, genuinely somber, as she acknowledges that first remark, but any reply she might have made is abandoned in lieu of equally genuine mirth for the second. Her smile is pleased, if not outright smug, though her laugh is quiet in comparison to Dilan's. "I can see... benefits to that, certainly." It's probably a good thing that Lily is both distracted and not yet an eyerolling pre-teen: she doesn't so much as glance at the adults, and Dee, clearly, is far too busy, giggling madly. Arekoth will keep on for as long as he has an audience, his focus almost entirely on his boy, now. It leaves H'kon to look overly pleased himself (well, for H'kon) for a time. He eventually releases his wrist, and goes back to that lean of his. "It does seem a healthy enough clutch," hints at being concessive, though with clutch parents so near, a hint is the most that will come from from the rider. At least one of the two of them observes some sort of decorum. "It does," agrees Madilla, placidly. "And a decent number of them, too, which is nice. Of course, I don't much envy the weyrling staff, with two clutches so close together, though I suppose it was always that way during the Pass." It's about then that Lily drags Dee towards the bench; she sits next to her mother, resting her head on the healer's shoulder, while Dee sits backwards, still staring up at Arekoth, pausing to wave every so often. Still: he's terribly gleeful. Arekoth can do this, too. He takes up a proper perch, waiting and looking back at Dilan, and doing his best to mirror the boy's movements so much as physiology allows. "There is very much different now. Much to show this is no Pass, within and without. So many young dragons may indeed prove challenging, with everything else." But H'kon has, no doubt, already shared political complaints with Madilla over the past few months. So he stops at suggestion, and instead shifts his angle of lean to look over to Lilabet, for her interpretation of the clutch. And if his shoulder brusher Madilla's, well. There had to have been some progress for them with public displays in all this time. Dilan is liable to now be entertained for hours - or as long as he's allowed to stay and watch. Madilla's, "Mmm," is answer to H'kon's comments, and her smile answer to that shoulder brush - but she'll otherwise leave space for Lilabet to make her answer (which is cheerful, and wistful, and only a little embellished). And a good time is had by all. |
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