Logs:The Assholes' Candidate
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| RL Date: 1 February, 2016 |
| Who: Breirande, Kh'tyr, Ninwayzan, Mograith |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Kh'tyr verbally needles two blond teenagers in the springs; only one of them walks away with an offer to Stand. Congratulations, Ninwayzan! |
| Where: Hot Springs, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 24, Month 12, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: A nasty mix of snowy stuff and rainy stuff falls intermittently, leaving ice on some surfaces and the ground muddy but chill. |
| Mentions: Mirinda/Mentions, Olivya/Mentions, Taylor/Mentions |
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>---< Hot Springs, Fort Weyr >-----------------------------------------------<
The Hot Springs are contained within a high domed cavern, the walls
perpetually glistening with a combination of condensation and mica. Steam
drifts through the cavern from the surface of four different-sized pools.
The largest takes up most of the cavern, big enough to hold three
full-grown dragons and is easily reached through the archway from the
Bowl. Three smaller pools, more suited for human use, are clustered near
the entrance leading toward the Inner Cavern. A set of shelves and benches
line the wall nearest the Inner Cavern, fully stocked with pots of
soapsand and towels for those without the foresight -- or means -- to
bring their own.
While the dragon pool is a natural creation, the human pools are the
result of Ancient ingenuity and have been constructed with hewn steps and
seating. The water in all of the pools is warm to hot, and are a perfect
place to bathe young weyrling dragons or for residents to relax after a
long day of work.
-----------------------------< Active Players >-----------------------------
Breirand M 17 6' athletic, dark blonde hair, blue-grey eyes 11s
Kh'tyr M 34 5'9 solid, dk. brown hair, dk. brown eyes 1s
Ninwayza M 15 5'3" stocky, blonde hair, emerald green eyes 32s It's a gross day out. It's the sort of day that might prove one's manhood by being able to withstand the outdoors for extended period of times. Either Kh'tyr is very secure in his manhood or simply has no manhood to prove for he's here in one of the smaller pools, safely ensconced in heat and steam. His pale partner is perched almost precariously at the edge of the large pool, dripping, and if anyone could guess at a dragon's emotions from the whirl of eyes, Mograith is distinctly displeased to be here, in utter contrast to his rider who couldn't be more relaxed, to all appearances. As for Breirande, well... *he* wasn't able to escape any of his grunt work today, and so the tall teen is now found rather tiredly shuffling towards the relief of the pools. He's been here just long enough for the presence of dragons nearby not to be odd or even enchanting anymore, so Mograith's relative displeasure goes unremarked -- as does Kh'tyr's presence -- even as the teen dumps his dirty clothing into a pile, nabs a towel, and finally eases himself into the neighboring pool with a low groan. He's a right-filthy bastard, with dirt and sweat all about him, and he reeks of runners and the inevitable by-products of being around them. Ninwayzan limps in looking quite sore and worn out from a full day of...something hot and sweaty. Groaning inwardly he barely notes the presence of others before he shucks his clothing into an untidy pile before he also snags a towel and works his way to a pool. It's not until he slides into before his eyes train first upon a perched dragon then his rider. Breirande is noted as an after thought. His greeting? A grunt. There are perks of the sort of knot that Kh'tyr wears: a lack of grunt work. There are also distinct disadvantages which probably explain the bags under the brownrider's eyes. He squints at the first blond boy and then the second as they arrive. "I'm detecting a pattern," he declares (if at a usual volume), deadpan. The pair are examined further, though not with any sense that his observation is anything other than casual interest. "Not brothers," he determines without much need for pause. "Too short," he points at Ninwayzan, and then, "Too tall," for Breirande. Will no one be just right? "The baker with the name too long to be bothered about," there's a silent 'right?' as Kh'tyr squints at Ninwayzan, and then, "What about you? Did your parents saddle you with some sort of reasonable name?" for Breirande. This might pass as polite conversation coming from the brownrider. It's the 'night of the grunts'(tm), for Brierande's offering a low, tired one back to Ninwayzan's own sound of greeting, grey-blue eyes taking in the lack of height in the other teen for a moment, then heavily lidding again as he continues to just sit and soak. He can't be assed to do anything more, at this moment...until Kh'tyr opens his mouth. Blink...peer. Baggy eyes, meet bleary eyes. The look on still-silent 'Rand's face perhaps says it all: 'you *think?' Word of parents has him looking dark for a moment, and then he's shrugging shoulders that barely peek out of the water, and mumbling in light baritone towards the brownrider, "Just call me 'Rand. Everyone else does." Perhaps his full name *is* too long or complex to digest easily, like Ninwayzan's? A loll of head allows his half-mast eyes to take in the other teen...the baker. How about him? For his part, said baker must be getting used to the various personalities within this weyr for Kh'tyr's words of greeting hardly affect him except for another vague grunt. At first. As the hot water soaks in a bit into sore muscles he eventually says something else. "I'm not too short!" cause there's no height requirement for apprentices ya know. "It's Ninwayzan." his pronunciation of the name is slow. "Or Ayzan for short." this is really for the benefit of both since he's yet to meet the taller lad. "So that's a no," Kh'tyr concludes of Breirande, apparently dismissing the extraneous information about what everyone else calls him. That's not what he asked, says his tone. "You might notice," he drawls to the baker, "that there's a certain resemblance between siblings. You, apprentice," no name, "are too short to be his," no name, but a jerk of the head to indicate the taller blonde, "brother. Even if you're younger, though that might be a trick of the heights. How old are you both?" He squints at the again, though he hasn't seen fit to move at all from his comfortable spot in the pool. A vague lift of brows is all the baker gets for the offer of his full name, Breirande simply nodding tiredly and once to the offer of it from the baker, and finally dragging one laborer's-muscled arm from the water to snag the baggie of soapsand he brought over with his towel to the pool's side. He's in the middle of opening it and trying to pour out a small palmful when Kh'tyr takes up his vocal interaction again, which 'forces' the taller teen to sigh dramatically and peg the brownrider with a stare that might've been irked, were 'Rand less tired. "I didn't know I was being interrogated by a guard..." He might not actually be able to care too much right now, if he really were. But, since he's already irked the Weyrwoman, 'Rand goes for a slightly more politically correct, "Sir." Beat. "Not brothers." Second beat. "Breirande." 3, for the win. "Seventeen." Again, that tired head lists over to bring his regard upon the baker. "Single." Snort, eyeroll. Ninwayzan's groan follows the movement of his arm to scratch at the back of his head. "Seriously is everyone this nice?" mutters the apprentice. Someone remembers the last time he saw the brown rider. On the heels of Rand's answer he confirms. "Nearly 16. Not brothers." Kh'tyr's stare back at Breirande dares him to summon the energy to be irked. See what happens. There's surely a bit of madness lurking at the back of the brownrider's dark gaze. Still, his next words is an answer for Ninwayzan's mutter, his gaze flicking to the younger man as he quips, "Only the ones from Igen. It's our special charm, or didn't anyone ever teach you?" Looking back to the taller blond, Kh'tyr considers him. "Too long." He decides and almost seems to dismiss him entirely, looking back to Ninwayzan. "Have you been thinking about the question I left you with when last we met?" Did Ninwayzan know there would be a pop quiz? Fucking crazy riders. That might be the look in Breirande's eyes as he slogs his gaze back to Kh'tyr, but he's got hair and a body to scrub, so the taller teen takes that up, instead of continuing his visual accusal of the brownrider. However, there's soon a tired, very low, "Didn't know you cared..." chimed in right after the older man's 'too long' comment. Scrubba-dubba. So, how's Ninwayzan going to answer the latest in this set of grilling questions? Ninwayzan isn't scrubbing yet. He's really, really, trying to enjoy the water and soak away soreness. He'd be content to let the other two chat but the last remark is actually directed to him. He knows this because his name, his full name, was uttered by Kh'tyr. Momentarily he is confused by the question. "Uuuhmm.." which means he has no idea what question he was left with the last time (and first time), these two met. "Shouldn't I? Parents are too inconsiderate with their namings. Makes the rest of the world work harder." It's so unfair. Kh'tyr lifts a brow at Breirande before giving Ninwayzan a totally blank look. It might look just like the look Ninwayzan is giving him, but amplified. He dredges up an immense sigh before casting a glance back toward his dragon. "No, I'm not sure there's anything happening in there. Would you want that in a student?" That question is definitely for Mograith, not for either boy. He's too damned tired for this, but still Breirande manages to summon up a tiny bit of irritation with Kh'tyr, enough to riposte back to him in a sighing mumble, "I hope not." About his caring. After pausing a few moments to let his tired arms rest, the teen continues his self-cleansing ritual...in slow-mo, to be sure, but especially now, since the brownrider is talking to himself...er, his dragon. Weirdo. Back over to Ninwayzan goes that tired gaze, like the swing of a pendulum. Tick-tock goes the clock. "My name is after....." Ninwayzan halts there with the assumption that Kh'tyr wouldn't listen to the full explanation of where exactly his name comes from. He slides a slightly confused gaze towards Breirande adding a 'who knows' shrug. Assuming that the brown rider won't be speaking with /them/ for a bit he too starts the bathing ritual with only small, quick glances between Mograith and Kh'tyr. That Kh'tyr is glowering at Mograith probably means the discussion, whatever it is that might not be heard, is not going his way. He eyes Ninwayzan. Then Breirande. "I'd rather the tall one, even if he's too long, too." He tells the brown who stretches and rises to shift the distance to come as near to the edge of the pool occupied by the teens as he conveniently can without putting himself to near water's reach (even if the pool is too small for him). There's a sound of breath drawn by the dragon who's all frightening angles that nevertheless eerily glide with exceptional stealth, nevermind that he's not sneaking up on prey. "Yes, I know the tall one's boring, but the short one-" Kh'tyr makes a 'come on' gesture to the brown. "Have either of you ever talked someone stubborn out of something?" He directs to the teens so they can feel like they're part of this headache too. Honestly; Brierande has *no* idea about the whole talking to yourself/your dragon/crazy thing, so Ninwayzan's confused glance at him only meets with a sidelong 'he's just crazy' silent roll of eyes to indicate Kh'tyr. Nope; not even going to bother peering at the silent duet communing out beyond them, unlike the baker. Too assed out, thank you. Groaning softly again as he raises his protesting shoulders, arms high enough to scrub soapy fingers at hair, the laborer teen is happy to focus purely on himself...and then Kh'tyr has to go and do it again. *This* time, 'Rand looks not only irritated, but suddenly concerned...and perhaps even a little provoked, after a fashion. Finally, the taller of the teens finds his hackles truly going up, his arms dropping in a splash to sides, his body leaning a little forward from the wall of the pool so he can fixate as much of his tired gaze as possible on the brownrider, and tell him in a low, slightly uneven, and all-business voice, "*I'd* rather you *not*. I don't..." Lip-curl. "...swing that way." The rest of what the brownrider says? Ignored. As is poor Ninwayzan. Ninwayzan was trying hard not to eavesdrop on the one sided conversation between those two. Nope, he concentrates on bathing and soaking away aches and pains. Still though he can't help but sneak peeks over there especially as Mograith moves closer to the edge of the pool he and 'Rand occupy. "You boring, 'Rand?" he inquires of the tall one as he's unable to completely tune out the part of the conversation heard. His question trails off in a confusing way though as Brierande insists he doesn't swing some way. "Swing...?" the holder bred lad is confused so when Kh'tyr poses his question he looks away from the other teen to the brown rider. "I uh, well sure. I have tried. Stubborn people though..." he leaves the sentence unfinished with a one shoulder shrug. It's Kh'tyr's turn to give Breirande a look. "You think that much of yourself, do you? Disgusting. You're a child. And a boy." And so Ninwayzan (lucky Ninwayzan) wins back the whole of the brownrider's attention. "Now, tell me, Ninwayzan, am I coming on to either of you?" It's a test. It sounds like a test. "Dragons can be worse than people." Let that be the delightful dragon lesson for the day. A child/boy? Never mind that 'disgusting' comment of Kh'tyr's. Immediately, still-tired and still-irked Breirande locks his now-steely gaze to the brownrider, and glares murderous daggers at him, the teen's jaw working in small bulges as he struggles to keep in just what he'd like to say to the assistant weyrlingmaster. What finally comes out is a low and deadly-earnest, "Go fuck yourself." The smirk that follows is both twisted and oddly triumphant. "Sir." What Ninwayzan perhaps rhetorically asks of his fellow teen? It goes right through 'Rand's steaming head, his back turned to the pair as he continues to scrub at himself...with more zeal than before. Confusions colors his expression as Ninwayzan mentally replays back the last bit of talk from Kh'tyr. "Wait..what...whoa." he doesn't blush but he does duck his head a bit to avoid any eye contact. Clearly that never even occurred to him, even after Rand's reaction. "No." he answers this so simply. Just a no. No other words seem needed. He peers curiously towards the dragon as if trying to determine if he looks more stubborn than a human can. "I'd rather do that than even consider you," Kh'tyr tosses right back to Breirande, totally unruffled by the whole ordeal. Breirande's still boring him. "Very good," he tells Ninwayzan before giving Breirande a look like, 'see? you could learn something from him if you gave a damn,' and then he's looking back to Ninwayzan. "Now, Ninwayzan, knowing that I am an assistant weyrlingmaster and that there are eggs on the Sands, and that you are of an age to Stand for the clutch, and that I'm discussing you both with my dragon, what would you deduce I'm speaking with him about?" C'mon Ninwayzan, Kh'tyr's given clues and there's clear expectation in his eyes: get this one right! Nope; not paying anybody any attention anymore. Not while he's still got a small head of steam going in that daft teen head of his. Breirande continues attending to his personal hygeine and ignoring Kh'tyr in specific, including that bit about dragons and eggs and talking about 'Wayzan. Grrr. Couldn't care less. Having heard at least Kh'tyr's side of the conversation, Ninwayzan clearly had no idea previously what it was about though he knows, after Rand's reaction, he knows what it wasn't about. Now though with the additional information provided a clear glow light goes on over his head. "Oh!" is exclaimed in a breath of air. His gaze unfocus as he realizes this and he takes a moment to let it sink in and think. "Yes" he bobs his head in answer with a firm expression to mean his answer is to the unasked question. There is a pause long enough but before Kh'tyr can say anything he adds in a hissed whisper. "Rand. He means you too you know!" "No, I don't." Kh'tyr corrects Ninwayzan without apology. "He's too much trouble to warrant the spot in the barracks." And with that Breirande continues to be dismissed. Dark eyes are focused on the younger of the two. "You, however, Mograith feels are worth the effort, and for him the fact that you seem a little dim is really icing on the cake. Because he's an asshole who loves me so dearly," he makes it sound exaggeratedly sappy. "So, Ninwayzan, to make it official, Mograith would like you to do Fort the honor of Standing for Taeliyth and Leczuth's clutch, with your journeyman's permission. The asshole thinks you'd make a good rider." A thumb indicates the pale brown who at least seems amused now, as opposed to unthrilled to be alive given the proximity of water and his drippy state. Whu-huh? Still-sizzling Brierande's being talked to? He looks both confused and irked when Ninwayzan hisses that to him, the taller teen simply shrugging, and returning to his ablutions like what's being discussed between baker and rider is nothing of major note. Oh, wait. He's being a waste of space? For *that* particular pecadillo of the brownrider's... well, he is 'awarded' a slow turning around from 'Rand, and a bright and sassy, giant-sized *grin*. Happy to disappoint you, asshole, or so the look silently states. For Ninwayzan, there's a still-smirkey, but also rather dubiously-spoken, "*I'd* look into this whole 'rider' thing further, before you accept, if I were *you*." Because...just look at what total assholes Kh'tyr AND Mograith are. There's a certain blend of amusement and surprise at Kh'tyr calling Mograith an asshole. Yet that particular stubborn 'asshole' is going to be liked by Ninwayzan for arguing with his rider on this matter. As the question is officially pressed to him, while bare and in the water, he turns his expression more somber. To Breirande he replies. "But I have thought on it since I was told to consider asking to Stand." he murmurs. To Kh'tyr he keeps his answer a bit more to the point. Less words for the brown rider to dissect and/or question or assign odd homework or something. "I accept the honor to Stand for Taleiyth and Leczuth's clutch." he pronounces the unfamiliar dragon names slowly. "Provisionally," Kh'tyr qualifies to the baker with a squint. "Ask your Journeyman like a good boy. We don't need any politics like BeastCraft coming out of this. Once you have his permission, and it will be verified," just in case, "you may report to one of the assistant headwomen to get your knot. I'll see you're added to the list." The brownrider briefly glances at the brown who is rising and swaggering toward the bowl. "As for you," Breirande, "I'd take your own advice. Just because my brown isn't a complete idiot doesn't mean I won't see you in the barracks before long. All these damned Search-happy dragons with so many eggs to find lifemates for. One of them's bound to make the mistake of you." He says with an expressive lift of his brows. "Try not to take it as the rider coming onto you if one does, dimglow." That would be Breirande this time. Well then. 'Rand looks a little confused and vaguely surprised when Ninwayzan confesses to having already thought this over. But, finally, he shrugs once -- cosigning foolish 'Wayzan to his self-appointed fate -- and simply continues scrubbing himself. As his anger slowly wanes, so does his burst of energy, and the fading of such leaves him suddenly even more tired than before, once the small surge of adrenaline subsides. He doesn't even have enough reserves left to flip off Kh'tyr, like his temper tells him to. Instead, the brownrider gets a mere twitch of one eye, accompanied by a snerk before he's also cosigned to the 'darkness.' Because 'screw you, dragonrider.' Breirande droops slowly back into the wall of the pool in time with the waning of his passion, and by the time he's finally done cleaning himself up completely, he can barely stagger out of the water, droop to a bench to towel off and find a robe or something to toss around himself before slogging off towards the common rooms. Maybe, if he can find the energy to get into clean clothes, he might even drag his sad carcass to dinner. Right, Journeyman. Other duties and responsibilities. Ninwayzan hadn't thought of that aspect of it so the added provisional instructions has him nodding his head. "I'll go ask tonight." once he's dressed. Which he starts to climb out of the pool, wrapping his towel hastily around his waist once he's out. "Um, thanks, sir." he says with a brief smile cast towards the rider once he's dressed. "I'm going to regret this," might be about Ninwayzan or assisting the weyrlingmaster on the whole. What it's not is a polite 'you're welcome, candidate,' though the brownrider does wave the younger man off before he's slipping out of the pool himself to towel off. Once Kh'tyr is dressed himself and Mograith is already gone, he pauses by the pool to say, "Think. About. It," to the young man left behind before he's briskly exiting into the snowy, rainy, gross cold. Maybe he'll get lucky and catch his death before the eggs hatch! |
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