Logs:V'faris, Tamaria and Teloquinth
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| RL Date: 19 April, 2016 |
| Who: A'rist, Lilabet |
| Involves: Harper Hall, High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lilabet is on her way home to surprise Madilla. A'rist obliges with a ride. |
| Where: Courtyard, Harper Hall |
| When: Day 8, Month 8, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
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| The drums. Lythronath hears them. Feels them. He is balanced, all his fiery ferocity, on his hind legs, tail swinging out behind him, blazed wings wide, head tilted in such a way that the sun lights up those harsh hunter's angles. The drums beat out a message. Lythronath clicks a response. Waits. And again. A'rist's attitude toward them - the drums, Lythronath, maybe both - is harder to read, brows drawn together, but face otherwise impassable as he watches some point in the air between Lythronath and the noise. They were waiting. Had been? Now, maybe, it's turned to something else. That something could be Lilabet: long, leggy Lilabet, wearing her senior apprentice's knot with pride as if she hasn't had it for months, now. She lopes, does Lilabet, lengthening her stride to cross the busy courtyard towards bronze and rider. "He got that code all wrong," she announces, with the easy confidence of someone who knows her share of drum codes (and maybe more than; there's that boyfriend, after all, who may or may not still be in the picture). "You must be my ride. I'm Lilabet." "No he didn't." A'rist might have seen her coming, been aware of the approach at least, though he's given no clear signal outside of not sounding tremendously surprised when she speaks. He does turn to look at her, up and down and hiding nothing assessing from the gaze. "You're one of two." Lythronath, still focused, clicks another pattern. A'rist closes his jaw deliberately. "No?" But Lilabet's smiling, smug, one hand going to her hip in a pose: here she is! Stare away. "I don't mind waiting. They don't know I'm coming, so they won't know if I'm late. Are you going to introduce yourself, or am I going to have to guess? I'm a harper; I could make up all kinds of stories about you." She tilts her head, taking on a pose of deep consideration as she lets her gaze take the bronze pair in, up and down, down and up. "No," A'rist confirms. "He got it right. Just doesn't remember why." The bronzerider turns back to the apprentice. Looks at her. Again. "Lythronath." Indicated. "A'rist." And with the slightest lift of his eyebrows, "Go ahead. Let's hear one. Don't see your friend yet." The drums have stopped. Lythronath waits. Waits more. And then turns to look at Lilabet. And clicks. Lilabet makes a face. "Well, it's more difficult once I know who you actually are," she tells him. "Because I know he sired a clutch a couple of turns back, and you've been in trouble before. I hear things. Some things, anyway. That's my job... maybe I'll write a song about you." "The things they'll remember about us," says A'rist wryly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Alright. So I lied, that's not really who we are anyway." This last given as he peers about the courtyard, and finds no one forthcoming. "Give us names and stories." With a wiggle of her fingers-- perhaps that's intended as a flourish!-- Lilabet considers, and then decides: "You're V'faris and Teloquinth. You transferred to High Reaches immediately after your weyrling graduation for reasons that no one understands... people have wondered if you're the secret flight child of someone important, only you don't really look like anyone, do you? It makes you mysterious, though, and that's fun. I'm trying to figure out where you Impressed, though. Not Fort. Maybe Ierne, or Honshu. Somewhere very, very far away." Beat. Then, with a bright grin: "How'd I do?" That flourish is invitation to A'rist to rest his weight on one leg, leans back at the torso, and just watch. Lythronath, too, watches, that great head swinging lower as his front claws find three ground again. His tail begins to twitch. When Lilabet is done, he tilts his head. "Mysterious." Trying it out. "In a way they like, or?" A glance over his shoulder, to the fidgeting bronze. Blue eyes turn their attention towards Lythronath, studying him for a few long moments as the harper considers this question. "Well, mostly," she decides. "I mean, some people don't like mysterious. Some people don't like the implication that a person may have received special treatment for something they don't know about; some people like things straightforward. But for others..." Abruptly, she turns her smile back on A'rist."Let's just say there is a gaggle of harper apprentices who would be terribly envious of me right now." Lythronath doesn't settle. V'faris, meanwhile, offers that girl a tilted smile. "So you're still a Harper apprentice? We'd've let you get away with Teloquinth," Lythronath growls,then sets clicking, "but I'm pretty sure V'faris isn't waiting for a Lilabet." He was, at least, posing some attention earlier. "At least," and there's a thoughtful change to his gaze, somewhere around the smile turning into a smirk, "that's gotta not be her real name." "Oh, I'm still a harper apprentice," declares Lilabet, gamely. "Only you're here to pick me up to take me back to the Weyr to Stand. I'm going to be the next-- no. Not weyrwoman. A greenrider, maybe. Maybe you hope I'll Impress gold so that you might have influence, but I'm sneaky; because you're right, I'm not Lilabet at all, nor Lily. I'm... Tamaria. Yes. Tamaria." "Tamaria," the bronzerider repeats. "Who never wanted to be the weyrwoman at all, or who learned that greens have more fun anyway? 'Cause I'm pretty sure that's something you'd figure out." Lythronath hasn't stopped his complaint. His rider, looking awfully cocky at this point, looks up and mouths 'Teloquinth', which produces a full-on roar. Lilabet is not, it's worth noting, terribly bothered by Lythronath and his roars, though she does give him a glance-- she seems amused. "Teloquinth may need some convincing," she concludes, with a low, musical laugh. "I'm pretty sure I figured it out for myself. Oh, of course girls dream about it, but is it really something a smart girl would pick? No. Definitely not. Besides, whoever heard of a weyrwoman who became weyrsinger? Not likely." "Tamaria's an ambitious girl," says A'rist to Lythronath. He holds the dragon's eye. "V'faris knew it all along. Respected it. Maybe when at last he and his dragon," a minor allowance that at least prevents another roar, "return to their impression Weyr, she'll sing truths about them that surprise most. Maybe it takes away the mystery. Or maybe makes it bigger. Greater. "I suppose it depends what they want. If they like the mystery, or not. And," Lilabet's expression turns impish, delighted. "How they treat Tamaria. Because, well. If they seem to like the mystery, but they're mean or nasty or she's feeling spiteful... well, she could spread anything she wanted, couldn't she? That," she raps fingers upon the sleeve of her leather riding jacket, "is the risk you take with harpers, don't you think?" A'rist has to think about that for a moment, arms uncrossing so that, instead, his thumbs can hook in his pockets. "I think the mystery sort of came around to them. I think they liked it more than the people who thought they had them just explained, anyway." Something about the tap to her sleeve is a reminder, that has him on the balls of his feet. "How they'd treat her would depend on how she'd deal with them. But V'faris, he's fair. So if the harper's worth the risk, I guess." An eyebrow raises. Lythronath's tail flicks back, forth. Lilabet's head juts forward: a sharp, determined nod. "She's fair, too," she promises. "Not generally spiteful unless someone really deserves it... she tries not to be like a lot of the girls, you know? She's smart." And pretty. And funny. And ambitious. "What do V'faris and Teloquith-- er, Teloquinth-- want from life?" "She'd have to be," A'rist agrees, "if she's going to be weyrsinger. If she's going to be a good one, then not just smart, too. Unless she wants to be like other weyrsingers. But I bet she doesn't." A'rist's feet shift. Lythronath begins to crouch, but his tail is restless as ever. "All V'faris'd ever wanted was just to be good. He always could be." The rider unhooks one thumb, and lets his arm lead a bit toward his dragon. "Teloquinth..." Click. Headbob. A'rist swallows. "He just only ever wanted what he was." And then, half a pivot, and that leading hand reaches for the passenger straps. "No, she wants to be the best of the best. It's all she's ever wanted." Lilabet's sigh is more thoughtful than dramatic, more serious than silly. She tucks her hands into the pockets of her jacket, watching A'rist's progress with the passenger straps. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to be what you are. It's a good thing, I'd think. Teloquinth, he's smart. V'faris, too, though, because there's nothing wrong with wanting to be good. Better. All that, you know? And I bet he wouldn't abandon his girlfriend and write to her about other women... not that anyone would ever dare to do that to Tamaria." Or Lilabet. "Definitely wouldn't," A'rist agrees. His mouth sets, but it's only 'cause he's focusing on freeing up a passenger belt, and holding it out behind him, for the senior apprentice. "V'faris is loyal to his own." By the time he's turned back to Lilabet, he's nodding. "And Teloquinth is. What he wants to be. Always." A shrug. "Lythronath. So, which seat does Lilabet want? 'Cause I think I see the other guy coming. You get first claim on your spot, I think. Seems fair." "I was here on time," agrees Lilabet, "so of course I get to claim first. Lilabet and Tamaria both like the front one. Fewer people to try and see through, and since we're headed home... well. Sort-of-home. The home that probably always will be." She steps forward, comfortable and composed in accepting the belt, and all that entails. That bronze is placated enough to have mostly stilled now. A'rist shoots another of those off-balanced smiles to Lilabet. "Front one. That's a good one. Especially for home." Lythronath blows some air at the dirt of the courtyard as he crouches. "So what's Lilabet doing when she's sort-of-home, anyway? And when's she gonna need a ride back?" It's asked with attentively, even if he's busy holding out a belt for this other guy, the one approaching now with the giant rucksack, nearly within earshot, but not quite. "Lilabet is surprising her mother for her turnday, and because her journeyman mentor is a kind woman who believes people should get to go home on occasion." Lilabet's pleased and more than a little smug as she relates this, gaze briefly wandering towards the other guy, and then back-- back to A'rist. "Three days," is almost an afterthought. "And at least part of that will be catching up with people other than family, I hope. Are you offering me a ride back, too?" "Promise that A'rist won't tell anyone about the surprise," vows the same. "Three days. So long as you can work around our sweeps, then yeah, guess so." And any other conversation will be overheard by their flustered third, who is now awarded Lythronath's intense attentions while A'rist sees to suiting him up. And then they can get home. "Good," says Lilabet, but aside from that? She's bright, cheerful smiles for both men, and comfortably cheerful all the way home. |
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