Logs:Sunglasses

From NorCon MUSH
Sunglasses
"Least they're sturdy enough these days it doesn't always end in tears."
RL Date: 19 February, 2013
Who: K'del, Xhaeon
Involves: High Reaches Weyr
Type: Log
What: Xhaeon's trying to make sunglasses. K'del's watching his kids beat each other up. Go figure.
Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr
When: Day 13, Month 1, Turn 31 (Interval 10)


Icon k'del happy.jpg


Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr


The rest of the bowl may be barren, grass barely surviving at best, but here by the lake, it's brilliantly green in the warmer months: thickening and thriving in the silty, boulder-dotted soil just before it transitions to soft sand and thence to the cool, clear water itself.

A large freshwater lake fed by a low waterfall, it not only provides warm-weather bathing space for humans and dragons, but has one end fenced off as a watering hole for the livestock in the feeding grounds. The water there is often muddier than the rest of the clear lake, whose shallows drop off abruptly several yards out into deep water, and whose edge undulates against the coarse-hewn bowl wall: here close enough to just be bramble-covered rocks, there far enough away that a narrow land bridge divides the main lake from a smallish pond. Between are several rocky outcroppings that form excellent makeshift diving points, though only one -- across the bridge -- has a set of narrow, slippery, quite possibly tempting stairs.

Brilliant light plays off of the dunes of snow as a cloudless winter day brings with it extreme cold.


It's bright out, eh? Really bright. Maybe that explains why Xhaeon is out here, seated on the snow with a long stretch of soft-sided leather sprawled out in front of him, upon which various pieces of muddled glass, smoked glass, translucent quartz and other such objects, all ground down to the same diameter circles: he pops various combinations into glasses frames, and pauses to observe the affects of each type. Sunglasses? Really?

Given all this sunshine, it's no wonder so many weyrfolk have come out of doors to enjoy it - even if the sunshine does bring with it such extreme cold. K'del is just one of many, loping through passages in the built-up snow, while two young boys - probably seven or eight - prefer to wade through deeper piles, throwing haphazard snowballs at each other, or divebombing their opposite number into the snow itself. They're too busy playing to pay Xhaeon any mind, but K'del, keeping only half an eye on them, does, coming to a halt a few steps away to consider the Smith in surprise. "What are you working on?" he wonders, curious.

Oh no, kids. Wait, wrong character. Oh look, kids! Xhaeon lifts a smile for the snow-bound children, absent but there: craft/hold-bred as he is, he can't help but enjoy the simple sight of childish fun. "Not anything as fun as what they are," he returns to K'del, looking up with a grin for the bronzerider. "Trying to see what would work best to reduce glare. Here, try this." Adept fingers swap out a lens so the pair of glasses compares a circle of quartz to glass, both smoky in hue; he then offers the contraption up to K'del for inspection. Does he likely recognize the man? Who wouldn't? "Tell me what you think?"

"If we could call what they're doing 'working'," replies K'del, but not without a broad, unhesitating grin. It seems as though he grasps pretty quickly the science behind Xhaeon's experiments, because his eyes light, and when he reaches to accept the contraption, he seems keenly interested, holding it up to his eyes thoughtfully. "Impressive," he says, after a moment, turning his head so that he can watch his boys in their rumpus. "Imagine they'd be pretty delicate, though. And expensive."

"True," Xhaeon muses to K'del's commentary about working. The smith falls silent - an expectant silence - as the man examines the careful workmanship. "Very expensive and very delicate," says the chestnut-haired man; "Though the quartz isn't nearly as bad as the glass. Grinding it down can be a pain, but there's a relatively bountiful quantity of it - and it isn't so bad if you chip a piece of quartz, rather than the glass." Which is a pain in the... glass to manufacture. "The metal is probably the worst part of it, though I'm sure there are better options, price-wise." His eyes are narrowed, thinking about this little concundrum.

K'del does, at least, seem to be taking very careful care of the glasses, and after a few moments of experimentation - and a few more of turning them over in his hands, thoughtfully - offers them back to the Smith. "Wood, maybe," he suggestions, thoughtful. "If it weren't too heavy a wood, and you could manufacture it right. Properly sanded down, of course. Interesting concept, though-- especially on a day like this. Snow and sun can be a pretty blinding combination."

Taking the frames back carefully, Xhaeon nods and goes through the process of popping out the lenses and carefully placing them face-down on the leather, spaced in a way that none will coincide once the soft-sided hide is rolled up. There's a scattering of different opacities among the different types. "The big issue with wood would be fitting the lenses properly. But perhaps with an adhesive..." The smith shakes his head, his muse trailing off. Dusting himself off, the man finally levers himself to his feet; at full height, he's very nearly a match for tall K'del himself. "My manners betray me," he comments, tucking the rolled leather under one arm and extending a hand for a handshake; "They call me Xhaeon. The Smithhall's regards to your Cadejoth, sir, and your service."

There's an apology in K'del's glance as he says, "And mine," presumably to mean that his manners, too, have been less than stellar. Especially when there are children nearby who might be picking up bad habits... even if they don't seem to be paying any attention to the pair of tall men. He extends his hand to meet Xhaeon's, handshake firm, and nods gravely for the introduction. "K'del." A pause. "As you clearly have worked out already. Our duties to you and your craft, Xhaeon-- and please, K'del is fine. I've no particular rank, these days."

There's a dip of his head with the handshake. Xhaeon doesn't seem too attached to formality, easily enough nodding to the call-me-K'del statement. "I've heard," the Smith's voice is droll in reaction to that last part, dry and bemused: who *hasn't* heard about the clusterf.... conundrum in which High Reaches has currently found themselves in? He doesn't necessarily linger on the topic. "Yours?" questioned with a quick chin-gesture over to the snow-dueling kids. "They seem like they're having fun." Understatement? Maybe? He squints against the glare to watch the latest antics.

K'del's expression turns wry for Xhaeon's 'I've heard', but he's not exactly surprised that this information, like his identity, has preceded him. Not that he seems inclined to linger on that topic anymore than the Smith; the look on his face is a pleased one as his attention slides back to his children, even as his hands seek out the comfortable warmth of his coat pockets. "Mine," he agrees, of the two boys, one red-headed and the other red-blonde, the lighter-haired one presently pummeling snow into the face of the other. "They-- are. Least they're sturdy enough these days it doesn't always end in tears." 'Always' being an operative word, probably. "Hooligans, both of them." But his tone is affectionate.

"Don't you know that boys don't cry? They leak. If it happens to be tears rather than blood..." K'del's affectionate tone finds a friend in Xhaeon's indulgent tone, rife with the hidden laughter of one who isn't too far removed from boyhood himself. His eyes track the boys' antics with a shadow of this amusement. "That's what my mother always said, at least. My brothers and I - I have two, both younger - drove my father crazy. We definitely got our wrestling natures from *her* side of the family." The backbit-- er, Harper side.

K'del's snort of laughter is fondly amused. "Sounds about right," he agrees. "My older brothers wrestled like that, but even the youngest of them is four turns older than me; they always thought I was too young to play with, and my sister, who was closer in age, she wasn't interested in that kind of game. The whole violence thing is new to me." His boys, who must be very close in age indeed, are back on the run again, hurtling off towards the lake. "Boys will be boys, I guess, though. They're friends; it's nice."

"That's a broad spread," Xhaeon comments, about turns. "I'm a little removed from mine," he admits. "Didn't stop me, though. Probably helped that they were pretty much my only option. It's a miracle they survived." Ahem. The Smith snickers about sisters, shakes his head, keeps an eye on that run with the wariness of someone who's scooped up slipper-and-sliders. "Better than what the opposite would be, eh?" he questions the bronzerider on them being friends, shifting to glance once towards the weyr proper, scanning the skies as if looking for something particular.

This time, K'del's laugh is even more snort-like. "My eldest brother turned forty last Turn," he offers. That's an even broader spread. The nod that follows is definitely one of understanding, though he, too, seems intent upon keeping a close eye on his boys. "Much better," he confirms. "Rather a little squabbling than-- well, the opposite. They're good boys." He glances back, in time to see Xhaeon's sky-scanning, which has him pausing. "Looking for something?"

Eyebrows skyrocket, as they will, at such a number: K'del obviously not looking old enough to be pegged at mid-thirties. "Big families. I always wanted a sister," he comments this last part half-out the corner of his mouth, a mutter of thought. "Hmm." He shakes his head, flashes another rueful expression. "Oh, I'm waiting for a blue to get back with Master Dechellis from the mai--" Even as he says it, ::between:: yields a middle-weight blue with a dusky hide, with a second passenger and baggage added to the back-straps. "And-- there he is. I'd best hurry, or he'll have to send someone off to find me." He shakes his head, wryly, and lifts a hand in farewell. "It was nice to meet you, K'del," he comments, before starting off for the craft complex.

"Nine of us," confirms K'del, quite placidly, though the twitch in his smile suggests he's used to that number raising eyebrows. Xhaeon's explanation is met by an easy nod, his own gaze following the Smith's towards the arriving blue. "You, too, Xhaeon. Welcome to High Reaches." Pleasantries dispensed with, he turns to head towards his offspring, calling out to gain their attention.




Comments

Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 20 Feb 2013 01:19:38 GMT.

< Whenever K'del talks about his family, it makes me feel bad for his mum. XD Xhaeon's an innovative dude! An awesome addition to the weyr, so far. :D

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