Logs:Stalking?
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| RL Date: 30 August, 2015 |
| Who: Edyis, A'rist |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: A'rist is curious, Edyis is caught in the act. |
| Where: Monaco Hold |
| When: 7D 9M 38T I10 |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Feel free to edit, correct, and alter away! |
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>---< Monaco Hold (TP Room - HRW) >------------------------------------------< It's a few hours straight flight from Monaco weyr, close enough to smell the salt winds off the ocean. Monaco Hold sits nestled between swaths of southern jungle which provide cover for the approach to the hold proper. Between the heat and the exotic scents caught on the breeze the air is an almost overwhelming to the senses. It's early evening, and after a long day of drills there's at least one rider who has more left to do. Akluseth is not happy about stopping, but Edyis insists, unhitching one of the crates, and weaving the riding jacket into his straps. She looks like any other southerner without the flightgear, the pale sleeveless shirt just barely thin enough to suggest the dark lines that swirl on her skin beneath. She hoofs it the rest of the way. Slipping into the bar with a wide smile for the man tending tonight. "Ahlzar, got your new shipment in. Where do you want it?" When the man grunts and gestures to the empty space at the bar, she sets it down with a relieved sigh. "And when you get the chance I'd like to try that new cider you got in from Nabol the other day." Settling into a seat to relax while the payment for delivery and the glass push her way. « Hurry up, I don't want to sit in cargo straps for hours while you play local. » Akluseth mutters. It's outside that they make themselves known, Lythronath gliding in from wherever it was he'd come, and doing little to hide it. « Haha. Akluseth. » Akluseth, whom he doesn't know, not personally, but into whose mental space he may have brushed time and again since his return to High Reaches. A'rist is more like to blend in with Southerners now, darker of skin, and perhaps still used to Ierne enough that what customs carry over might come easy to him. But he doesn't leave his dragon, even as Lythronath lands, pompously, near the young brown, two clicks issued from his throat, tail tip twitching. A'rist stays with his dragon, and squints off in the direction of that tavern. « Blood Guy. » Comes Akluseth's surprised tenor, perhaps borrowing from rider memories trying to identify the bronze. The brown's restless oceans churning, dark shapes circling just beneath the crest of the waves. Akluseth's tail twitches too, « Um. Hi, I guess. Uh... Come here often? » Not entirely sure if he should give his rider a heads up about the nightmarish bronze just yet. He eyes A'rist. Puffing a breath in his general direction. « Lythronath, » corrects Lythronath, and not gently, tail swinging behind him, and a series of clicks adding to the comment, to the warning. Throughout the rest of that chatter, Lythronath simply watches. And shows his teeth. There is nothing to answer there. As to A'rist, he puffs his cheeks, and then lets that breath out, right back at Akluseth. "You go on and tell her we're here. I can go in if she wants." The smile on his face borders on predatory, enjoying their surprise at least so much as does his dragon. "Or she can come visit us here." The brown just settles more on his haunches in response unimpressed by the pair of them. Teeth flashed back in response, but otherwise he's not particularly aggressive about it yet. Edyis jogs back, ponytail bouncing behind her, the tension dissolving some when she recognizes A'rist. "I see he's as much of a bully as ever." She flashes in an amiable grin, "what exactly are you two doing out here, I thought they had you stationed in Ierne for a while?" Lythronath keeps an eye on that brown, and keeps those teeth where they can be seen. A'rist leans back, letting the straps take some of his weight, when Edyis emerges. "Didn't have to be this time," comes from the bronzerider, slow, but with a hint of an edge just behind those words. "Thought we'd been home a bit now. Or you too busy out with those barrels of yours," the smile again, oh yes, he knows at least that much, "to be hearing all the roaring and screaming in the pens?" Lythronath's excessive sleeping, and occasional snoring, since being back are notably not mentioned. "Hey easy man, I was just teasing. It's Lythronath, I expect him to be himself. Just as I expect Akluseth to be Akluseth." Both dark brows lifting, in surprise. She squints at him then. "I don't get an actual goodbye and, you are mad because I didn't realize you both were back yet?" Her head tilted, her tone one of confusion. "I've been busy, Snowdrift, and...things." All that time she's been spending in Telgar, and the Telgari brown seen frequently on their ledge. She stops then, as something clicks. "Have you been... Following us?" She can't quite wrap her head around that thought. "Not overmuch," shrugs A'rist. And then follows it up, promptly, with, "All your trying to study Lythronath didn't do you much good at all, huh?" He leans forward, and thumb-points at Akluseth. Lythronath makes a deeper noise, and slowly closes his lips over his teeth, but that tail keeps on swinging. The bronze's attention shifts over to the brown's rider, now. It's that same bestial stare as ever it was. A'rist is watching her too, but differently. Thoughtfully. Akluseth isn't aggressive in his stance, but he isn't backing down to a bully either. "I wouldn't say that." She answers, of studying the bronze, whose focus on her doesn't seem to unnerve her at all. "Hello to you too Lythronath." She answers to him, puffing a breath to send a stray curl away from her face. She then leans against the brown's foreleg, and Akluseth seems to settle some. "So you going to explain why you were stalking us instead of, you know, saying Hi like a normal person?" Amusement, and perhaps a touch of affection in the words. "I can buy the drinks." Lythronath changes nothing in his posture or focus. "You seemed busy," shrugs A'rist. "And we've been settling." That's it, that's all he's got. "You wanna tell me about your weyrling hood and your dragon, though, then yeah. Buy drinks." Under those stares, the beastial and thoughtful, Edyis just smiles shaking her head. "So it was easier to stalk us." It's probably a sign that she's just given up trying to understand the logic. "Well if you could keep those barrels to yourself, I would be in your debt." Akluseth continues to glare, but it must be something unspoken between rider and dragon that has him settling down, eyes half lidded, but still watchful. "I am sorry I didn't stop by to welcome you two back." She adds, satisfied that the brown isn't going to do something stupid. She glances over him, making a small gesture to suggest removing his knot if he is even wearing one. "No reason to invite trouble." She explains, and when satisfied she falls into an easy pace in the direction of the tavern. "Weyrlinghood was... well I am just content to never have to do it again." She admits, "Snowdrift is easier, feels like there's a little more room to breathe and be us. You know?" Glancing back over her shoulder at the brown. "He's ... troublesome." She admits with the sort of smile that only speaks of affection. "Can't stay still for very long, doesn't have much in the arena of forethought. He wants to be doing things, or hanging with his buddies." "Stalking," says A'rist, without any semblance of denial, nor threat, but factually, "is what a hunter does to its prey." Lythronath clicks once, but what might have been a series dies at that, as A'rist takes his leave, with no obvious parting instructions left to his dragon. "Think we'll keep your secret?" is conversational as they move in. Her account of weyrlinghood earns no such responses; just 'hmm' and eventually, "Do you find him hard to focus?" "I don't know if that is flattery or an insult on your part anymore." Edyis admits with casual ease her smile not wavering for a beat even as one dark eyebrow is going skyward as she studies the bronzerider all the more curiously for the statement. "Mm, I would like to think you would, I believe you will, but you are also quite a bit different from what I remember." She observes, though, there is no judgement in the observation, only a sort of thoughtfulness that touches on her expression as they walk. "Sometimes," She admits eventually of the brown's focus, "He's like trying to hold back the ocean with a tiny bit of canvas." Hesitation before, "Yeah." Repeated then, "Yeah. Feel different, too. But it's been a long time since we've talked, really. Longer than just being away." A'rist shrugs at it, and gets the door once they're within reach. He squints a little at that canvas mention, but doesn't say anything to that, either. There's a look back out the door, not to the dragons, but maybe to the words said there, and he shakes his head before stepping in. What he does say, once they're inside, is, "What are we getting?" "That . . . has probably been my fault." She admits a touch of apology and guilt laden in the edges of her voice. No excuses given, or explanations offered. At the question, everything melts into a crooked smile, "Whatever you like. I probably owe you more than one." She reclaims her mug, and a table. "Is different better or worse, or just different?" She wonders lifting her mug slipping into a seat. "No, hasn't been." A'rist leaves it at that. His order, then, is hard liquor, preferred in the south. He may even have developed a taste for it. The bronzerider sits also, chair dragged into position, a thoughtful scratch going to the top of one ear, awkwardly. "We are what we are. What we gotta be." He shrugs. "You find holding him back focuses him better?" Edyis watches him quietly as he drags the chair into position, his answer drawing the faintest suggestion of lines in her brow. "Redirecting him is usually better. He's got more energy than I know what to do with sometimes. The extra work helps a little but he still has those moments where he gets a wild notion. That's usually when I have to hold him back." She looks at him then, "So what was Ierne like?" "Hm," is the sound of one who can accept, if not relate. When his drink comes, his hand finds it fairly quickly. His lips don't; first, he smells it, takes it in, settles into the atmosphere, and in all this, has time to think on that question posed to him. "It was humid," is what he comes out with first. "And we were strangers." "Are you happy to be back?" Edyis wonders watching the ritual of settling intently. "It seemed like, after Azaylia..." She lets the thought Trail off looking into her mug and taking a deep pull. "Glad you are back." She seems to decide then. "Lythronath has only one home," says A'rist. "He can't make a home elsewhere. He can have greens and paint ledges, but it's not the same. That part of him is closed." The liquor meets his lips, then. Most of it, in fact, brushes past them in greeting. "You know, it's not about Azaylia, or Hraedhyth," is a hardened tone. "It's not not about them, but it started before that. Anyway. We're back." And she'll even get a sideways smile for her final decision, and a raise of the glass before he finishes it, and holds it for another. |
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