Logs:The Discourse of Dragons and their Men
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| RL Date: 9 May, 2013 |
| Who: K'zin, Rasavyth, C'wlin, Athimeroth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: C'wlin stops by with a gift. In terms of significance, the riders talk of nothing while their dragons talk of everything. (In short, the Weyr might be doomed.) |
| Where: Questionably Painted Weyr (K'zin's), High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 23, Month 9, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: N'hax/Mentions, D'kan/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions, Alida/Mentions, Sabella/Mentions, E'sren/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Jo/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, Aishani/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions, K'del/Mentions |
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| Questionably Painted Weyr, High Reaches Weyr At the back of the weyr the cavern branches into two good-sized back rooms with a double-sided fireplace occupying the wall they share. The weyr even comes already decorated. It has an ornately carved bed and press in both of the rooms; the front area offers a polished rectangular table and six matching chairs, a set-up perfect for entertaining. Rugs are scattered across the floor, their colors bright and cheery to match the walls. But oh, those walls! Some artistic hand has painted mural on every wall, filled with bright colors and bordered by mixed fruits and vegetables. The mildest murals are filled with exuberant scenes of dancing people, but most of them are of a more... questionable nature. They're certainly not the sort of thing any concerned parent would want their children to see, though they give the weyr a definite party atmosphere.
« Good evening, Athimeroth! » The sweet, musical tenor of Rasavyth greets his Wingleader's dragon cheerfully, for all that the edges of his mental near-invisible ooze are indistinct from the surrounding nothingness, indicating his weariness. For a moment, there's no reflection of the larger bronze's usual mindtouch, but then it begins to pull together into his usual reflection of wind and aether and a sensation of a perspective on high. (To Athimeroth from Rasavyth) Where C'wlin stands, he's got a good eye upon those murals. A smirk plays upon thin lips but little else shows in his expression other than lighter-tinged amusement. "K'zin," the once-harper greets, expression smoothing to a (faintly) entitled expression of greeting. By now, though, it's evident that this is the norm and nothing to do with K'zin himself. Athimeroth restlessly awaits the end of this little meeting for no other reason than it is merely his nature to be restless. Cradled in his hands, sits a box wrapped in midnight-blue cloth. "Congratulations are in order," the weyrling's tenor carries the slickness of words, smooth and unaccented. At-ease, at any rate. Reflection is reflected, taken, and made pure by simple truth: Athimeroth simply /is/ the aether. The heated, blustering winds. The snapping banners and the gathering troops far, far down below. « Evening. » Aloof, again by nature, the greeting is kind enough, welcoming enough to be benign in response to the other bronze. Attention is split between dragon and the comings/goings down far in the bowl proper. His own ledge, sits so close. (To Rasavyth from Athimeroth) Rasavyth, by contrast, is anything but restless. He's smooth, confident, and suave. You really can get all that from the confident way that he swans about the side of the ledge he landed on, making an inviting rumble and toss of his head toward the extra, pillow-filled hollow as he settles into his own. The pillows are gaudy and for that, Rasavyth's mind seems apologetic, but the invitation is clear: make yourself at home while you're here. It's much the same general tone of his mindtouch, though this physical offer has no 'edge of the mind niggling' that something's not right that is simply a part of Rasavyth's oozy touch. "Are they?" K'zin's baritone questions, vaguely surprised. His helmet, goggles, and gloves were stowed by the entrance on his way in, a thing that's becoming second nature to him by now. "What am I to be congratulated for?" The K'zin of now is very different than the Wakizian of old. More serious, more studious, more confident. The question though is one borne of ignorance, so there is some uncertainty to be found in his features as he crosses to the other bronzer, eyes dropping to what he holds briefly. « We are neighbors now, are we not? » Rasavyth queries, though if previous interactions are to be anything to judge by, the clever bronze knows the answer already. « We share quite a lovely view. » Not that he's concerned with seeing it just now. It's an invitation to further conversation, an encouragement accompanied with the sensation that he would enjoy further discussion. The topic matters not to him. (To Athimeroth from Rasavyth) Athimeroth is not one to refuse an excuse to lounge. Even if it is on pillows brighter than his own taste. Still, enough, he perches. "For your," C'wlin's cool eyes flick to the silver threaded through K'zin's knot, amusement filtering into the spoilt-boy features, "promotion to more work." For his own change has been a mixture of subtle and obvious. Athimeroth's anarchist tendencies have infiltrated C'wlin enough that his own adherence to rules includes only those rules he chooses to obey, flagrantly now rather than subversive. Yet, still the subtle shift of growing up has left the boy less troublesome in attitude, and smoother with a sharper tongue. Oh, if only K'del had met this version of Ceawlin in the latrines. "And for surviving the month." Midnight-blue box is given over. "It wasn't easy, but as a supporter," distraction pulls his attention away to glance once more around the weyr, though the reptilian side-glance is given the other bronzerider, "I am grateful." Oh, in another life, C'wlin would rule the world (or hope to). « We are. » Athimeroth confirms, unconcerned with the knowledge (both gained and lacking) of the other bronze. He is decidedly out there in terms of where he stands, what he desires, and who he decides to follow. « It is quite the view. Not quite high enough, but it'll do. » For now lingers at the end of that statement. Tarnished bronze glitters in the late evening, catching light of glows and moons alike. (To Rasavyth from Athimeroth) "With great shiny things comes great responsibility, and only more work, right? Bigger shinier dragon just means dealing with more mucking." K'zin's tone turns lighter with humor that nevertheless holds a ring of truth. "Thanks. I'm surprised after all the leadership you've shown that you're still without one." His lips purse as brows draw down thoughtfully. He receives the box, "Presents for surviving a month? Aiming to make turndays obsolete? I would think that continued life was the natural reward of such thing." All of this is voiced in companionable good humor. A little shake of his head is given as fingers pull the lid of the box open. "We may not have started cut from the same cloth, C'wlin, but we're patched closely enough together now." After all, they're both once-crafters, both bronzeriders, both have the interests of Weyr at heart, right? It's his way of saying 'it was nothing'. To Athimeroth, Rasavyth is casual. So very, very nonchalant, as he shifts in his couch to regard the other dragon with what can be sensed to be a thoughtful eye. « You know, that is something interesting to consider, is it not? Why, when once a bronze has become Weyrleader, does his Weyr become closer to the ground and not higher? » No doubt Rasavyth has his own thoughts as to why this is, but none are betrayed as he toys with buffets of oozy breeze around the edges of the other bronze's consciousness. "It's a token, really," C'wlin comments, pale 'brows lifting when K'zin takes the gift. "One for all of us, for surviving." Him, presumably. "We aren't so far apart as we once were," weyrling allows, slight smile tugging once again on serious expression. "Not since you've given up your dresses, that is." Tease it may be, but it's layered with the many changes that have taken place for them all. Hands clasp behind his back, while he roams, taking in the creature comforts K'zin chooses to keep around. "I'm not overly concerned about it," he returns to the topic of the silver thread, and indeed, his behavior indicates his lack of concern. "I'll lead or I won't once we graduate. I'm harper-trained, after all, and what I haven't learned at the Hall, I am betting that I'll find life experience a much better teacher." It's a joke, given the delivery of dry, dead-pan humor that causes a glitter to come to blue eyes. « Because those who would become Weyrleader seek to be closer to the females, where a smart dragon. » Athimeroth's winds bluster, hot, through the shared instance of the mind link, sly himself in ways that clearly come from C'wlin. He sees what Rasavyth is doing here! « Would choose to keep a high-up vantage. » He pauses. « It is all in the faults of the humans, sadly. » On that, perhaps he and Rasavyth can agree. Humans are not nearly as smart as dragons. Or rather, implied: they are. (To Rasavyth from Athimeroth) "What can I say. Rasavyth's taste in men doesn't include those marauding as women." K'zin replies to the tease with ease and grace, not like he might once have done. Certainly once upon a time, there would at least have been blushing. Now, not even a rosy undertone. The box is then explored, pendant withdrawn along with his final assessment. The assessment is read, expression betraying nothing. Then, finally, the box and note is set on the nearby table. "Well, you certainly were... thorough. I guess liking paperwork is something that comes with being a Harper?" He questions as he shrugs out of his flight jacket, hanging it on a chair back. "It is just a shiny thread, after all." The brunette's words are delivered in a way that lacks any indication of whether he continues to joke or believes it. "I'd definitely say so. Everyday a new life lesson, it seems. How's your weyr? Heard you got the pick of the lot." There's no jealousy there; clearly, he's pleased with his own choice. To Athimeroth, Rasavyth's mind is ever agreeable, for the most part. Though in this, the agreement seems particularly firm and genuine. « I suppose, » He drawls in a purr, « That there is some merit for the Weyrleaders lifemate to be close to the ground where his leadership » Only his. Taikrin and her false regime are not given even a thought. It's so obviously stupid that it doesn't even need to be discussed, or so the sentiment hangs alongside his words for the knowing of the other. « is based. All of that paperwork. » There's a slight touch of disdain, « They really should come to see that true leadership happens in the sky. » To that, C'wlin lets out laughter. "Rasavyth has good taste." Watching his fellow weyrling open the gift, his expression too remains neutral. Neither does he wait with baited breath, but neither does he seem worried. "My weyr is perfect," another smile curves upon thin lips, "for now, anyway. I did enjoy getting the first pick." He glances around, slanting K'zin a quick look. "This weyr, was not to my tastes, but I think it suits you. Even with the questionable paintings. Not tasteful per se, but not distasteful. It suits Rasavyth, anyway." It's no diss to dragon or rider, mere observant truth. Then, almost as if in shared secret, he adds, "I've got a pole in mine." Which, too, also suits him. Together, they're a pair with the perfect weyr! In one thing, bronze dragons agree almost entirely completely: Taikrin's own claim to Weyrleadership. « If a man cannot hold the skies as well as the land when he is not in both, then no leader does he make. » As taxing as C'wlin's expectations are, they color and filter to Athimeroth's. « They should, but they won't. They only see leadership in the sky when a gold flies. Then everything falls down again, and the humans squabble. » (To Rasavyth from Athimeroth) "He does." K'zin agrees taking the few steps to come to the side of the other bronzerider once the pendant is on. He seems pleased enough with the token. "It makes for a very long list of redecorating needs in this place." Now that they're getting onto the topic of redecorating. "He'd like them," He points, "To be a little more elegant. Oh hey, were you ever any good with maps? He wants a big one on this wall." A point to the biggest canvas that currently holds the fruit and vegetables. "I personally don't see the problem. All my favorite things. Food, dancing, and--" He simply nods towards the least appropriate of the murals, with an impish grin. "A pole..." K'zin muses on that briefly, smirking, "You know, I've heard stories about a couple places in Bitra and Crom that make interesting uses of poles. Between you and I, as things stand," a flick of fingers to the murals, "We could have wild roving parties. Maybe get a zip-line between our ledges or something." Trust a Smith to think of that. It sounds like he's joking... mostly. "Want some wine or beer? I could put the kettle on for tea, if you'd rather." Since they're having a nice enough chat. « Well spoken, » Buffets of oozy wind clap together to make the sound of applause. Evidently, Rasavyth couldn't agree more. True that the two have not always been peaceably on the same page through weyrlinghood, as least in this, as in performance of duty, they are well suited minds. « It would be nice for some order. » Rasavyth's words are drawn out in what could sound a lazy complaint, « Though if the exchange for sticking this chaos out a while longer is that we have a chance to fly when it matters, more's the better. » He's begun to notice the greens that glow and rise, with a particular edge of interest. Has Athimeroth? The wonder is quiet, one of very few such "growing-up" concerns that Rasavyth might have shared as they've grown. (To Athimeroth from Rasavyth) Watching K'zin put the pendant on, C'wlin allows a shade of pleased filter to his expression before he turns back to the inelegance of the humping figures. "Rather than paint over them," brows lift again as the weyrling wingleader casts querying expression to the other bronzerider, "Why not hire someone to make them more elegant? Plenty of artists exist in the Harper Hall that can do such things. Seems such a waste to lose the character of a place..." This is followed by a tsk-tsk sound. "I've not a hand with making maps -- or at least no map that you'd want on that canvas, but I would suggest asking at the Hall or finding a sea crafter. There's no one better at cartography than a sea crafter. It is, after all, their life's blood, that. Always go for the best." That's C'wlin's advice, anyway. "Wine, please." Big boy drinks! « If only it were possible to hold them down until we are sure. » Athimeroth's sentiment is blustery like the winds, though the words ring true. « Although which would lead to the top? It is hard to tell when they both rose at the same time. » A quandary. For now, Athimeroth's interests are not at all piqued by the greens, but by the queens? There now the bronze's interests are piqued. Even the gold all the way across the way to Fort might have held some allure were he not too young yet. Progeny is power. (To Rasavyth from Athimeroth) "Well, I think they ought to stay as is, but to cover them up or something, editing it as it were? I don't feel right about completely destroying another artist's work, but I feel worse about keeping only bits. But it would be less work." He concedes, "And keep the character of it." K'zin's nod for the recommendations of Harper or SeaCrafter shows, paired with his receptive expression that the suggestions have been heard and filed away for future use. "Hadn't thought of a SeaCrafter. I thought their specialty was in water features and a Harper's that of land. I guess if I wanted to be doubly safe, I could hire both." From the ledge there comes a quiet approving rumble to that idea. "Both it is." His tone is rueful as he moves to a cabinet near the table, drawing out two very fine looking wine glasses and a skin of wine, decidedly less fine than what it's to be poured in. He hesitates a moment, "I've white or red. Have you a preference?" Rasavyth's reflecting winds are less blustery, more serene as those found skating across the ledge this night. « There are advantages to each, I think. » Without words, the sensations of his impressions of the two very different golds are shared: Iesaryth with her great oceans of intelligence and mystery, and Hraedhyth with her leaping flames, beating drums and bones, simpler of mind, but strong and righteous according to her own morals. « They » the humans, « spend far too much time debating which of their kind makes for the better leader; it seems quite silly, really, when the question ought to be how will our golds lead us and to what end? Surely they are as inseparable from their bonds as we, but... » He trails off letting the sensation of the thought dance along the little blusters from oozy to not ooze on to Athimeroth's knowing, 'aren't the dragons the most important anyway?' (To Athimeroth from Rasavyth) "A skilled artist will enhance, not detract, from editions to the mural," C'wlin comments, but when K'zin affirms his desire to hire two, the boy only murmurs, "A sea crafter is much more skilled in maps, however. The land part is easy, but the skill, not so much." Then attention is directed to the offer of beverage and with only a minuscule time to mull things over, he opts for: "Red." Quick to make up his mind, he is. Rather than continue to stand, C'wlin finds and takes a seat, drink invitation implicit enough to stay long enough to put one's bum in whichever seating K'zin might have in his weyr. "What's going to be interesting is to see who gets the wing next." « Favor exists in both. » Athimeroth's assertion rides the winds, ripples the flags, but his own surging power has dimmed in reflection of the moment. However introspective he may be, little is given over in accordance with both his nature (with everything being black or white, it is or it isn't, and thus it is shared or it isn't shared, unlike Rasavyth's scheming tendencies). Iesaryth holds a touch more sway with the bronze being connected by blood, but Hreadyth is a force to be reckoned with. « We know more than they, though their bonds » pesky humans, so needed, « have their uses too. Iesaryth's is stronger. » For merit of keeping such secrets as she did. (To Rasavyth from Athimeroth) The appropriate skin is procured, as K'zin laughs. "If I'm looking for that kind of skill, I'll probably have to hire someone. I'm not that good yet. Still--" He pauses in his pouring of the red liquid into the two glasses on the tabletop to look at the murals in question, "These are far better than some of the weyrs, with all those huge blocks of color. Did you see the one Sabella picked?" It's not exactly disgust, it's just a distaste for the orange and blue walls. "We could've done far worse, I think. This was the first we visited in the lot. Ras was a little upset once he saw the one with the chess pieces." The conversation flows on, just as the wine has ceased to. He lifts the pair of glasses and moves to hand one to C'wlin. "Did you see the ones in the bedroom? They're even more-- colorful than these." He grins, once again the look impish. "Well, who's left? D'kan's had it, Sabella, you and N'hax. Guess that leaves me, Telavi, E'sren and a few others? I'd bet for Tela and E'sren next. Unless Quinlys is secretly trying to undo me by lopping on the responsibilities. How was it for you? Leading the wing." To Athimeroth, Rasavyth seems blithely unbothered or unaware by how much is not shared. He's absorbent of what is, mulling it over. Banners are mirrored, dripping with the charm-ooze that is Rasavyth's most distinctive mindtrait. « Iesaryth's Aishani is quite strong. » He agrees. « She favors change, which may not bode well for we bronzes and our 'mates. » He's silent for a long moment, « I'm not sure I would agree with you. Hraedhyth's Azaylia seems softer, but she is deceptive. When roused to the cause of protecting what she sees as right or to those she sees in need, she is as fierce as Hraedhyth. We have seen it. » Not, surely, all the depths of it, but enough to glean that it's there under the sometimes shy exterior. « She champions us. » The bronzes. The traditional ways. "Some of them were awful. The chess one -- was that the one with dung all over it? I lost track -- was interesting. I can't believe Sabella picked the one she did. Telavi made a good choice, though, and I think D'kan did as well." C'wlin's comment comes as he takes the glass, lifting it up to twirl and watch the wine drift lazily up the sides before sliding back down as wine has a tendency to do. "I'd be it's going to be you and Alida." The look given K'zin is a touch sly, "Weren't you and Alida..." Cue the brow wiggling as insinuation is made. "The idea of a party between the two of us is a good one. Just build us a portable ramp and we can see how many drunk teenagers we can get on it, going up." He teases, but maybe some part of him might be serious. Nah, he's not a psychopath. Really! "What was it like... everyone bitching? Everyone wants to be a leader and thinks they can do it better than you when, in fact, they would be just as good and just as awful as you'd be. Just differently. Don't expect gratitude. I live by, 'You can't please 100 of the people 100 of the time, so don't even try.' Please 80 of the people 80 of the time and you've still got majority favor. 100 is too unrealistic." Now it's time to drink! « She is but a whisper beneath the rumors. Champion us she may, but if she's the whisper of an idea, then nothing will come of it and she'll be but a puppet for others to use. » Athimeroth's judgment is given with little rancor, wind moving lazily through the upper atmosphere. « Iesaryth's is sly, and favors change, aye, but she favors those that are useful. » Which is an important distinction. « Strengths and weakness; it's a game of which side is stronger. » Shifting to ease muscles stiff from being in one position too long, the bronze contemplates, « There could always be another hatched to take it away from both of them if they aren't careful. » Queens beget other queens, his tone implies. (To Rasavyth from Athimeroth) K'zin will raise a glass in agreement of C'wlin's last sentiment, perhaps taking it more to heart than his lack of verbal response lets on. "Maybe?" K'zin answers, uncertainly. They must be blurring together for him too, unsurprisingly. "It was pretty dirty, but I wasn't really looking by then. I spent the whole time there convincing Ras not to cart away the chess pieces. In the end, he decided it would be better if I built him a set of his own, anyway. And it's not as if his mental board doesn't suffice for most games. But sometimes he cheats." K'zin offers this as a conspiratorial aside that mustn't be too secret, since there's a wounded croon from the bronze in question, echoing into the weyr. The question of he and the guardswoman earns a laugh, not a blush. "Shells, no. It would take a braver man than I to tempt that fate. There are some others I wouldn't mind taking partnering for a mattress dance, certainly." The invitation is there to talk girls, but the tone and the carefulness with which the words are delivered assure that if C'wlin decides to ask further, he's going to have to give as good as he gets in the information game. He looks toward the ledge thoughtfully, "It's a shame that would end up with us back in the barracks faster than you could say 'It was all in good fun, Quinlys.' Maybe if it was really secure and had a cage on top. Even then..." But at least he's giving the idea its proper due! To Athimeroth, Rasavyth's answer is simple and without words. He takes what his bronze brethren says and focuses it one phrase 'a puppet for others to use'. The sentiment that his highlighting brings is that puppets have their uses. « There could. It is also possible that if this chaos continues an outsider might come. » He is not altogether opposed to this. His loyalty is to the Weyr and his lifemate, not to a specific gold. « It, in fact, might be best for everyone if a new one » However it happened. « came. But there is always the possibility for worse when there is newness to be dealt with. » "Nor I, my friend, nor I," C'wlin comments with a laugh when it comes to the talk of Alida. "I just remember one covered grime and dung and didn't even go further in to look at it. I am not in the mood to clean my weyr before moving in. Not deep cleaning anyway. The one I chose was also the first one I saw, though I had the luxury of waiting through a whole bunch of them before choosing." Over the rim of his glass, he regards K'zin with raised brows. "I'll bite. Who would you take home with you, if you could get around the whole 'Quinlys' bit." Because that is a small obstacle. No, really. Agreement is in the whipping banners, blowing winds, and the chill of deep aether. However unspoken that agreement is in terms of puppets. « Another gold would flush them from their complacency. » Firm, confident and utter truth. « As of now, they've nothing to get territorial over. Fear is a great motivator. » And why hasn't anyone thought of this? They probably have, just the bronzes are not yet privy to such information. (To Rasavyth from Athimeroth) "It's a party and we have a bridge. I get to take only one home with me?" K'zin questions, likely only half-joking, gesturing to the chairs at the table as he moves to take one for himself, flopping into it, pose casual as he considers. "Just from the weyrlings?" He clarifies the rules of the current game. Athimeroth's words resonate deeply with Rasavyth, as evidenced by how thin and almost non-existent his ooze becomes for a moment, reflecting with pristine precision the exact snapping of banners, wind, and chill. It's a creepily good mimic of the other bronze's mind, but there's that little bit of ooze to give it away as a copy. « Perhaps a rumor of such would serve just as well to prompt them to action as a true threat. » (To Athimeroth from Rasavyth) "Yes. Only one can go with you." C'wlin leans back in his borrowed chair, watching K'zin. "Let's go for broke. Anyone in the weyr." Make it that much harder. "Though you can certainly limit yourself to the weyrlings if you like. Doesn't even have to be female, if you fancy another." The wine's sipped, unfathomable blue eyes settled right on the other bronzerider. Unfettered by Rasavyth's reflection, Athimeroth knows who's the real deal, the diamond, in this set up. And cubic zirconia is given away by the slick ooze of one who plays many hands. Though only one hand need be the best to win. « Rumor is too easily disproven. » That notion is squashed with the hammer of truth -- Jhorinth would be proud -- « What they need is someone to come. Someone to lay claim. Only when claim is made will they come out of the woodwork. » (To Rasavyth from Athimeroth) "Girls are good." This is the only part of the response that comes quickly. It doesn't completely eliminate the possibility that he might have other interests, but the way it's delivered that even if he does, he's not ready to deal with it. The question is considered at length as K'zin sips on his wine. The thinking drags on, and finally he-- doesn't answer. He asks, "Counting or not counting girls with whom there's already been progress made toward that kind of thing?" If he's going to answer this honestly, he's got to know all the rules and subsequent loopholes. C'wlin's answer is quick, brows lifting ever higher. "Let's call it your Heart's Desire. The one person you could have that could make you want no other. If there even exists such a thing. If not, then the one person you want and desire the most." In other words, the deepest stakes possible. « Cadejoth's K'del would have the influence, I think, to do this. But there is danger in the true coming of one. They may not leave and it exposes the Weyr to the eyes of the world. » Not that they aren't currently at least partially exposed, but asking for a gold transfer would certainly make the other Weyrs look their way. « What if it were for a junior gold to come train as they have done in turns past? » He knows of the tradition, a flip of dusty pages buffeting the oozy wind, evidence of his extensive study. (To Athimeroth from Rasavyth) « He could, but K'del is the most troublesome human. He cares too much. » Athimeroth gives his opinion definitively. Caring is for the weak -- though Athimeroth would see the weyr succeed but only if it gave him more power. « A gold transfer may work. If only we could get one to lay a gold on our own sands. What we need is to awaken the territorial within Hraedyth and Iesaryth. » Beat. « A gold transfer of a junior who's nearing her time to rise. » Play the odds! (To Rasavyth from Athimeroth) The Heart's Desire description gets a laugh and a shake of K'zin's head. No such thing for him. "The one person I want and desire most..." He's still thinking. "That's really tough. I want a lot of girls." The wine glass gets tapped lightly to the table top as he thinks, even more. "Just one." He repeats. "Okay. Jo. She's hot. And like-- she talks about really hot things. She's also kind of dangerous, and that's weirdly sexy." The last is delivered in such a way that suggests he's not sure why he finds it so, but there it is. "I'd have had more interesting answers if you'd limited my choices. For example, C'wlin," K'zin prepares to ask his own question, "If you had to choose one person from our weyrling class to do the nasty with, who would it be?" « If not Cadejoth's K'del, then who to prompt such an action? » Rasavyth questions, a tendril of thought directs towards Athimeroth and C'wlin, silently asking if they have such pull anyWeyr. The talk of the best case scenario from such a gold is set aside; logistics first. How would it work? (To Athimeroth from Rasavyth) "Perhaps I'll have to limit my next question," C'wlin laughs. What, K'zin didn't know they were playing fifty questions? While Rasavyth and Athimeroth plot the destruction of the weyr, the boys talk girls. Go figure. "That's a difficult one." Brows lift as he contemplates. "Any one in our weyrling glass, hmm? We'll stick with girls as men don't do it for me." It's hard to tell even if females do it for the boy as asexual as he comes across. He considers K'zin for a moment, eyes narrowed. "Definitely not Alida. I'd say it's a toss-up between Sabella or Telavi." Answer is smoothly given, with as much sincerity as K'zin presents, though with a snakier smile. "My turn." Glass is lifted, considering. "That is, if you want to keep going?" Stonewalling, Athimeroth's winds give nothing away but that there's thought behind the question. Winds whip, banners writhe and down below men die as they fight a never ending battle. « It could possibly be orchestrated. Possibly. » He pause, carefully considering the next. « Cadejoth's K'del is too obvious, not to mention unlikely to put the weyr in harm's way like this possibly could be. Best to be outside the weyr, but that too has its own... » Thought is snatched by the skeins of blustering, blistering heated air. « ... dangers. » (To Rasavyth from Athimeroth) K'zin stifles a laugh at the mental image of Alida and C'wlin pairing off. "Why not?" This bronzer is easy going, giving approving nods to Sabs and Telavi. "I do wish I hadn't screwed my chances with Sabella, but with the way she and E'sren are hanging around each other so much, I think I might've had steep competition to keep her attention." This tidbit is shared with the same casual delivery as the rest. Clearly, there are the beginnings of two games here, one obvious and the other more subtle. "Alida is..." C'wlin shakes his head, "... mannish is not the right word. She's just someone I think I'd want to shoot with an arrow on a good day. She's a great hunter, I'd think, and hunting companion, but I'll leave the bed-play for someone with a lot more interest in climbing past her personal prickles." At the tacit approval for carrying onward, the blond bronzerider eyes the brown haired bronzerider with consideration. "If you hadn't screwed it up -- and I hope there's a story there? -- would she be the one you'd carry feelings for? Or is there another?" Deeper stakes, deeper play. Wine glass twirled, the red wine glitters like a liquid ruby. To Athimeroth, Rasavyth's agreement is complete and he falls silent now, thinking over the hazards of the scenario that they've been so successfully investigating until now. « In an endeavor like this, it is important to know who can be trusted. » The words do not say, but do imply what Athimeroth likely already knows: choose carefully who is approached, and make sure the timing is right. « A scenario such as this requires that confidants be trusted. » Fired back, mirrored in Rasavyth's ooze, Athimeroth turns his eye upon Rasavyth himself. Black or white, grey is not accepted. « Were an undertaking to be taking place, it is important to know who can be trusted. Here. » (To Rasavyth from Athimeroth) There's suppressed laughter from K'zin as C'wlin answers his 'why not' with an answer about Alida. Where once K'zin might have confused by the miscommunication, he is not now (perhaps due to the clever beast that shares his brain). He leans swiftly forward, reaching his free hand to lie lightly upon the former Harper's forearm, meaning to stop him, just as he finishes his explanation of "why not" Alida. "I meant, why not-- ask another question." He explains, with amusement, but not unkindly. "You make several excellent points. There's a lot more to her than she lets most see, for sure. But those prickles will keep her bed empty a while, I'd think." From the way K'zin and Alida exercise, extra, in companionable silences, it might be known that he's closer to her than most. "The story isn't as interesting as I'd like, of course." Of course! Not enough kissing happened. Or torrid, wanton sex. Or whatever. "Mostly it comes down to that I was breaking some of the rules with her and then tried to get my act together, and in so doing, I ended up ignoring her for the better part of a month, and wouldn't you know, girls just don't like that kind of thing." This is related with a comical rhythm, laughing before he has another sip of wine. "But from what little I know, if you were choosing between the two, Sabs or Tela--" He doesn't say it but the slightly wiggled brow might indicate his vote goes to Sabs. Or maybe it's just that his vote goes to not-Telavi for anyone who's not him. "I don't really feel like that. I might be broken," The bronzer relates, "I just like kissing girls. It's pretty straight-forward for me. If she's pretty, nice, and willing, I'll have a go." The little harlot. To Athimeroth, Rasavyth feigns hurt. Really, it would be out of character for him to not offer some kind of interesting reaction, so there it is, though obviously false. This is, after all, just business. « Really, Athimeroth, the goals of you and I and yours and mine are not so different. We all want what is best for the Weyr, do we not? And it seems we might be in accord about the stratagem to employ. » He doesn't know, truly, why he is so ill trusted when all he's ever been is kind, sweet Rasavyth, willing to listen to any dragon that needs a shoulder, encouraging when he ought and so on. Oh, sure, sometimes things just seem to happen around him, but that's hardly his fault, is it? And that niggling of 'something not right'? How can he control that any better than Athimeroth the presence of his banners, wind, or aether. When K'zin moves to stop him, C'wlin snorts, but states, "Still stand by what I said." With a crooked smile, anyway, sitting odd on thin lips. He lifts his glass to toast again before cheshire-grinning behind the rim, "I would choose the girl who intrigued me more." Which could be either, though an undercurrent is allowed to be sensed, as C'wlin has honed his subterfuge edge over the course of being bonded to Athimeroth that he is not nearly so blatant as he was in the past. "I don't think you're broken," the boy shrugs, tasting the wine again, and watching K'zin over its rim. "I think you're a man who's got more on his mind than girls. Or at least, than what girls want. From all the things I've observed, girls always want something." Which is usually more than a man wants to give! "So then, who have you bedded? Anyone from our class?" « We are aligned for now, this is truth. » Athimeroth is untouched by Rasavyth's innocence, guilt or even proclamation of innocence. It's business. Black or white. « But in a game where the stakes are as big as a Weyr, proclamations must be made. » Definitive statements of choice and of intent, the gusts of wind must whisper, winding and whipping trough the banners as men far, far below remain locked in a never-ending battle. « A side chosen, and all of that. » Danger lurks within as warning is given, while Athimeroth may see things very definitively, his rider is not one to cross. Especially not a game with stakes like these. (To Rasavyth from Athimeroth) "Mmhm," K'zin absorbs the Harper's crafty response to the question of Tela vs. Sabs. "But why choose. Why not go for them both, together? They seem close enough, hm?" Now, he must be joking, there's a thin edge of teasing, as the brunette grins. "Ask me again in a seven," He offers, rather than give a definitive response as to who he's bedded. "For now, I'd best get to bed. Wouldn't want to be sub-par for my Wingleader tomorrow. Did you hear he's a real taskmaster?" He jokes now, surely, swallowing down the last of his wine and sliding out of the chair. "Thanks for the pendant, C'wlin. We'll have to do this again sometime." He gestures casually to the drinks. Trust is earned in baby steps. This was step one. To Athimeroth, Rasavyth's touch becomes less slimy. Less oozy. Less slippery. It hardens, becoming tangible, almost. For a breath, the bronze reveals the shimmering and complex gossamer webs that are constantly weaving in his mind, frozen, then they're gone again. « Your rider and I would do well with a heart to heart. » There's some regret that the messages must be passed by other mediums. « But short of that, » Since the aristocratic looking bronze holds no delusions about C'wlin's abilities or desires to do such a thing. « You may count on us to be receptive and helpful to ideas that benefit the Weyr, such as this one. My suggestion to you, and yours, is to approach us on a case by case basis. We shall, in so doing, learn much and more of each other. » And that should be enough to build at least a foundation of understanding. « My K'zin is not so simple as he once was, you might tell your C'wlin that. » If he wishes. It's not of utmost import to the bronze who tucks more lazily into his couch in preparation for sleep. C'wlin laughs, "Perhaps." What secrets may yet be lurking aren't given up this night, anyway. "You earned it. You all," deeper meaning is had to that single word, "earned it. Failure and successes are the fabric of what makes us better than we were." Lips thin as a half-smile forms, "I heard he's got the best enforcer in High Reaches too." He stands and finishes the wine. "Thank you, for the wine. And I'll see you early in the morning." Leaning in to give K'zin a pat on the arm if allowed, he turns and stirs his air-based dragon with a flick of his wrist. Cat-like, Athimeroth rouses and stretches. The fairy cat within coming out in the weathered and tarnished look that somehow accentuates his burnished, brighter parts. With little fanfare, the pair depart. Winds are unemotional, whipping diffidently against the banners that proclaim some distant emotion -- red for blood -- « Asked only for this instance, this plan. This plot. Others are subject to other rules of engagement. » Athimeroth assures as much as he can for being not as invested, per se, as his human counterpart. « Mine does not presume that K'zin is what he was, unlike others of our class. Mine resumes what he observes. » Whether Athimeroth will tell C'wlin... that is always a toss-up. Alllll depends on what is most beneficial to him. « Clear skies, Rasavyth. » (To Rasavyth from Athimeroth) |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:The Discourse of Dragons and their Men"Alida (Alida (talk)) left a comment on Thu, 09 May 2013 09:44:18 GMT.
If others knew how not only the human weyrlings, but the draconic ones chatted...they might exile us immediately to protect themselves. ;)
MAN, we have some ambitious, tenacious individuals in this class. ;D
Aishani (Brieli (talk)) left a comment on Thu, 09 May 2013 14:32:50 GMT.
I suppose dragons can't really know what's been tried... and has failed... before their time... ;)
Interesting stuff.
(No one got exiled, but people got fired!)
Ceawlin (Ceawlin (talk)) left a comment on Thu, 09 May 2013 15:41:53 GMT.
Hehe, there ARE a lot of scheming, ambitious dragons in our clutch, Alida!
Trust me, there's a lot of face-palming from C'wlin's perspective on Ath running his mouth. C'wlin is sharp enough to know what may or may not actually work... ;)
But his PLANS (/athimeroth).
That was a super fun scene, thanks again, K'zin!!
K'zin (K'zin (talk)) left a comment on Thu, 09 May 2013 20:29:41 GMT.
Well, you know... Ras is such a good listener. And why shouldn't he listen and encourage Athimeroth's plans? How better to get inside his guard? I mean... It's not like he's going to up and start betraying people/dragons for his own benefit someday... right? Ras, play games by being a yes-man? NEVER, I tell you! XD
Zian (Zian (talk)) left a comment on Thu, 09 May 2013 22:53:26 GMT.
Telavi and Sabs are going to have a scene where they talk about all the boys relative attractiveness. ;D
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 10 May 2013 02:06:51 GMT.
...And it can't even be blamed on one lineage in particular, because they're from separate clutches. Uuuuuugh. e.e
I enjoyed the (unintentional?) mirror of the bronzes talking/critiquing each gold, and then the boys start talkin' about girls. It's one of those things that I imagine happens in a weyr-- the dragon's thoughts/feelings subconsciously steer their rider, even in mundane things.
That was awesome, guys! XD
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