Logs:Tell Me True
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| RL Date: 13 February, 2015 |
| Who: H'vier, Irianke |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Irianke is nosy after shadowing sweeps. |
| Where: Sweeps, Bowl, Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 13, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
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| After a brief meeting with his on duty riders, sweeps were assigned out with H'vier inviting Irianke along personally, alone, with himself rather than with another pair of wingriders, which was probably kind of tempting. The sweeps are incredibly boring, for lack of a more appropriate description, though Reisoth himself seems quite interested in the terrain that he's no doubt seen many, many, many times before. Surely he can be forgiven that he's not overly interested in maintaining conversation with the gold, only speaking when absolutely necessary or to answer any questions as minimally as possible. When they return to the Weyr after sweeps that likely aren't as long as proper sweeps might be, Reisoth lands in the bowl and H'vier dismounts to await the goldrider's dismissal. She's just going to dismiss him now, right? Niahvth isn't fazed when conversation isn't a two-way street with Reisoth, her commentary on what she sees and how interesting it all is shared intermittently. She's a bright sunny voice filled with unshakeable spring warmth. Irianke can't converse with H'vier up in the air, but when they land, she's quick to slide down. Her jacket, gloves, and helmet are shed sometime between dismounting and dismounted, after which she flashes a brilliant smile at H'vier. "Exciting." Surely she's joking. "Do you usually divvy up your wingriders to different tasks? Do you ever sweep as a full group?" The bronzerider offers a smile in return to hers and her joking. It's not brilliant, but it's tolerant. "We don't sweet as a full group often, no. It's an inefficient use of manpower. And if someone needed backup, well, that's what dragons are for, isn't it?" All that telepathy and betweening business. H'vier speaks in the sort of fashion that suggests he wouldn't expect a woman like Irianke to understand much about a fighting wing or the real dragons that make it up. "Do you have somewhere else to be? A meeting? Do your wings report their findings to you, or only if there was something out of the ordinary?" Irianke asks a successive series of questions one right after the other. One of those high winds whips through the bowl at this point and musses her smashed head of hair and takes her backwards a few steps with its force. "Whoa! Either way, lets get out of this wind and have a drink? My treat." "No." Though there's the suggestion that H'vier might wish he did have somewhere else to be right now. He nods to the idea of a drink without any particular enthusiasm. "I can buy my own drinks. But thank you." He's being so polite. Someone should be proud of him. Reisoth doesn't seem to be, though. This is boring but he still watches as his rider begins toward the caverns. "My riders write reports of their sweeps," he says as they walk. Irianke isn't so dense as to not pick up on these signs, but she's as unfazed as her dragon was earlier. "I hope I didn't put you out too much with my request." Even if she knows that it already did. "I'll be Weyrbound soon, and I'm enjoying any opportunity to get out and understand the area better. Like Nabol, do they really have that many orchards in the middle of a Pass? Or have they expanded during the Interval?" Blithe chattering continues while they walk, up until the moment they step up towards the Snowasis. "Do wingleaders have input on what's acceptable for Holds to do during an Interval, or does High Reaches just let the Holds decide on their own?" Chatter chatter chatter. "You're immensely attractive," is followed by, "Why did you end up leaving Ista?" "Not at all." H'vier is a good liar. He lets her chatter on while they walk until she leaves an opening for him to speak up. There's a somewhat more genuine chuckle for the compliment, but he must take it for granted because he otherwise ignores it. "I don't care what the Holds do so long as they don't fuck us over on tithes. It makes sense that they would get uppity when they don't think they need us anymore. But it's short-sighted of them not to think about what their descendants will do in the next Pass if we don't protect them. We don't all kick back and relax during the Interval, after all. We continue training as though Thread could fall any day so we can protect them again." He pauses, realizing he's let her lead him into a minor rant, then adds more succinctly, "I didn't leave Ista. I was transferred." "And I had a choice in the matter of my new residence," returns Irianke tartly. In the Snowasis, she steps up to and flags down the bartender, her slender body leaning into the bartop. "Two whiskeys, unless he wants something different." Positioned so, she turns, all smiles and brows arched above far too curious blue-grey eyes. "You have a lot of thoughts on these issues, but you... hold back. Tell me true, wingleader," she might be reaching that arm to touch his arm or test out his muscles, or both. "What else are you hiding behind all this manly exterior?" The whiskey must be fine with him judging by the single, slightly tense nod, and lack of protest, he gives to the bartender. "There were flights expected. I wanted to be Weyrleader." It clearly didn't work out very well for him, but he's still here, so there's that. "Are you always this nosy?" H'vier wonders out loud, glancing at her reach to touch his arm before his gaze settles more properly on her face. "I thought you were interested in my wing, not my secrets." "Your wing. You. Sometimes, it's the same thing." Irianke keeps her hand on his arm, light pats working their way down to his elbow. "It's no secret that we were sent here as brood mares for High Reaches." In spite of the selection of her words, there's no acrimony in her voice. Her hand retracts to lean into the bartop and she rests her head there, looking up with a forthright, bright smile, "I'd rather get to know who might potentially chase personally, and so no, I'm not always this nosy. Only when matters of my bed and Niahvth's flights are at hand." "I suspect you're going to be a very busy woman, then." Considering all of the riders that could potentially chase her dragon, getting to know them all personally could be a task. "Are you holding auditions from your bed? I'll admit I could be talked into being very interested in that." H'vier does have a reputation to uphold, after all. That might be why he adds, "But it might give me an unfair advantage." Being so fantastic and all. "Only the intriguing ones." Irianke's response is quick and flirty, complete with the requisite saucy wink. "Here," their drinks arrive and she's handing him his, making sure to brush her fingers against him somehow, anyhow. "I see some other likely candidates over there to chat up," she waves at an obviously empty spot in the Snowasis, flashing a careless smile at the bigger dragonrider, "I'll be seeing you around, H'vier, and thank you for indulging a silly goldrider whim to see what it is the fighting wings do." |
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K'zin (16:30, 15 February 2015 (EST)) said...
<3
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