Logs:Vaguely Inappropriate
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| RL Date: 28 October, 2012 |
| Who: H'kon, Azaylia, Barnabas |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Azaylia decides to have lunch in the galleries, and H'kon is already there. They meet... 'Bones', and the goldrider manages to keep her appetite. |
| Where: Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 7, Month 2, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| OOC Notes: Welcome Bones! You'll uh... you'll certainly shake things up a bit at High Reaches Weyr. |
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| Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr Ringing the southwestern side of the hatching sands are ample tiers of carved stone benches, the lowest of which is some six feet off the ground -- just high enough to separate wayward hatchlings from unwary viewers, and vice versa. A metal railing on the outside helps prevent anyone from falling off; it also extends up the stairs that lead the way higher into the galleries. While most of the area is open seating, ropes section off some of the closer tiers when dignitaries are expected; those areas even feature cushions in the Weyr's blue and black. The higher one climbs, the more apparent the immense scale of the entire cavern becomes. The dragon-sized entrance on the ground is dwarfed by the expansive golden sands that glitter in the light. Everything on them is easily visible from the galleries, whether that's a clutch of eggs and a broody queen, or simply its emptiness and the handful of darker tunnels that lead to more private areas than the bowl. Wherever one sits or looks, however, one thing is constant: the overwhelming, suffocating heat. It's not much of a clutch, but it's still a clutch. It's still excitement and eggs. It's still reason for residents to come on up and dream or dread. For riders to come relive early memories. For really just about anyone to get out of the frigorific weather. It's quite possible that none of these are H'kon's reason for being in the galleries, but there he is anyway, sat up front like the keener in a harper's class, and offering painful-looking little smiles when people come close to him. He's not empty-handed, of course, sat with a hide before him that he studies intermittently, and certainly doesn't write on. Despite warm leggings, thick dress and fluffy coat, Azaylia is drawn to the heat of the sands. Usually unbearable, it's a vast improvement to the steady snowfall outside, some of which she tracks into the galleries. One hand gives her skirts a shake, the other arm lifted some to keep the basket nestled in the crook of it. Eyes look up towards the stands, searching for a place to sit that won't bother anyone. Her unsure steps carry her forward until she spots H'kon, halted and considering whether or not to approach- though she has on a friendly little smile the entire time. Barnabas walks in, immediately attracting attention to himself, not giving the traditional arm-rubbing huddle that most do when they try to warm themselves. Instead, he gives his bare arms rough slaps with his palms to force some feeling into them. "Colder than an ex's heart in this..." he grumbles out the rest in a low growling sound, brow pinched in a grumpy glare. He pulls his vest tighter over his chest to keep the warmth in as he descends the stairs, picking the perfect moment to look down at the snow on his boots and completely miss the goldrider in front of him stopping in indecision. He collides with her firmly, nearly stepping down onto the back of her heels, but catching himself enough to keep from crushing the girl. "Whoa, hey." He regains his balance with a wide grin. "You walkin' or standin'?" H'kon is, despite the studious nature of his activities, not unaware of his surroundings. Which means that when Azaylia enters, and is looking his way, he's gives one of those hard-drawn smiles her way, carefully reaches to gather the coat alongside him down to the floor behind to make room, and dips his head. He's halfway through, "Weyrwo-" when that stomper's clearly on collision course. It has the brownrider up like a shot, albeit not in time to do anything to stop it beyond a cutting, "You would do well to watch yourself." As he stares, unflinching, up. Way up. Past the goldrider. At a much, much bigger man. Azaylia's smile relaxes some as it seem H'kon is making an attempt to be friendly, which will always brighten the goldrider's day. Just as her lips part to greet him, a high-pitched squeak leaves her as she stumbles forward. She manages to catch herself with the rail, straightening in a sudden turn to stare at Barnabas' shaggy facial hair. Eyes widen as her head tilts back, looking up and whimpering, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- H'kon." Stuck between a rock and a hard place, she places a hand on the brownrider's shoulder, "I-It was an accident." One she's already apologized for, despite not totally being the one at fault. Barnabas raises up an eyebrow at the sudden third party, giving a half-second glance to Azaylia before giving a sudden an unexpected laugh. "HA! Relax short stuff, it's like your girlfriend said. Just an accident." He grins wide, his teeth surprisingly white given the look of the rest of him. "How about we say I owe you both a beer and call it even eh? Or... y'know, a wine. If you're into that stuff." He shoves four fingers of each hand into the pockets of his pants, and rocks back and forth on his heels. H'kon's gaze stays downright steely, for all he settles back on his heels under the goldrider's hand. There's nothing like the dog's master to make it settle, even against its own instinct, if it's well-enough trained. "Or you might keep in mind that the weyrwomen tend to frequent the Weyr," is more didactic than confrontational. But it's enough, once said, to have him break his gaze, step back, uncrumple that hide that he'd bunched up some in the moment. Azaylia just gets an unsatisfied sort of look as he gestures toward that bench he's had mostly to himself thus far. Azaylia would never put any pressure into that steadying palm, though it remains on H'kon's shoulder during the exchange. She keeps looking between the two, an unsettled, worried whimper leaving her every now and again. "Eggs. It'd be disrespectful..." Despite the small size of the clutch. In an effort to force some calm into the situation, she gives Barnabas a strained smile, "There's no need, but thank you very much." Laying it on thick and sugary. With a grateful glance towards H'kon, she ducks her head at the vaguely unsatisfied look on his face. A touch scolded, the goldrider walks over to the bench and settles, adjusting her dress and placing the basket next to her. Barnabas angles himself at his hip to look past H'kon, ignoring him for a few silent moments to watch Azaylia descend downstairs. "Weyrwoman huh?" The words are meant for the brownrider, but his eyes never leave the girl untill she finds her seat. "Hehe, nice job big guy. Like em tall eh?" He straightens back up and gives H'kon an unsettlingly exaggerated wink. "Serious though, was just an accident. Was shakin snow off my boots and she stopped all of a sudden. Y'can unclench your butt." An eyebrow twitches, barely, at that extra talk from Barnabas; H'kon doesn't actually answer that part, though the second bit, conciliatory or not, at least warrants a stiff, "And attention to detail can prevent that," from the little rider. Azaylia, however, gets a nod for her concerns. And even with that big guy still there, H'kon, too, heads back to a seat on the bench. He looks pointedly to the weyrwoman next to him - though he's been careful not to sit too near - but keeps what's on his mind, in it. He doesn't go back to that hide, either. Azaylia is already unpacking the woven basket by the time H'kon joins her. The scrap of cloth is tugged off the mound and smoothed along the bench between the two riders. Cheeses, rolls (both sweet and meat) are set down onto the floral pattern, or what will fit. With her infamous appetite, the young woman covers every inch of the cloth, with food still left in the basket. She'll get to that, eventually. "Hungry?" She'll ask of H'kon from around a meatroll, giving him a close-lipped smile while her eyes often turn towards the eggs on the sands. Knowing her, there's no surprise as to why she'd choose the galleries for lunchtime. Barnabas returns to tapping off the last bit of snow from his boots, only to find that the heat has done most the job for him. Giving a smile, he moves on impulse, giving no forethought as to where he plans to sit untill he's arrived. "Hi!" The sudden voice comes from directly behind poor Azaylia and H'kon, Bones having chosen the tier directly behind them. "This place is awesome. It's nice and warm, plenty of place to rest your legs and uhh... y'know, there's eggs. Guess that's cool. Hey, is that a meat roll? Mind if I get a bite of that? Oh, my name's Bones by the way." "I've eaten already," H'kon excuses himself, attempting another smile. "If we did not have drills coming up," is almost apologetic, a final shot at being as gentle as possible in turning down goldrider hospitality. Shoulders stiffen at that Bones' greeting. The hide gets itself a little crumpled once more. He is given a slow sidelong glance, suspicious at best. H'kon then sets to rolling up that hide, and reaches back for his riding jacket. Before it gets drool on it or something. Azaylia isn't hurt as H'kon declines her offer, "Oh, that's alright. More for me?" Her words are missing the selfish tone that would otherwise make the saying more convincing. Bones' sudden greeting has a bit of roll falling from her fingertips, the goldrider stiffening with another sharp squeak. Turning her head, the large man is offered another one of her startled cervines look, lips quivering for a moment. Finally, "A-ah, yes. Imean, no. I... I don't mind." And the roll is offered as she attempts another smile, "Hello, Mister Bones. I'm Azaylia, and this is Brownrider H'kon." Bones takes the roll and immediately fills his mouth with a big bite, chewing at the corner of it while still talking. "Please, Mr. Bones is my dad. It's just Bones, HA!" He laughed a little too loud at his own bad joke. "Nice to meetcha H'kon. You too Aza- ... ohhhhhh shit!" He closes his eyes and gives an eerily ecstatic groan. "Who the fuck made this roll? Mmmmmph! You bake this one Zayzay? S'fuckin good!" "Pleasure," is drier than Igen in a drought. When H'kon stands again - even if he'd only just sat - it's with marked reticence. "Arekoth and I must away. Drills," is directed squarely to his weyrwoman. "Take care of yourself," comes with just a bit too much seriousness to be a casual - or even formal - farewell. He nods his head to this 'Bones', not deigning to repeat a name he's quite certain is an alias. It's wordless down the stairs, into the bowl, and only to Hraedhyth when he passes her (seeing as Arekoth would have no part in this) that he murmurs, after a quick bow of her head, "Be sure she remembers to command as much respect as she'd have given to the eggs." If that gets through the dragon telephone game, who knows. Either way, he's off to drills. Azaylia simply stares at the man, looking faintly pained and confused by the encounter. His groaning has her leaning back, manners forgotten by both of them it would seem. "T..th..thekitchens." And she's deeply relieved that nothing in the basket is something she made. "I..." Squeak, swallow. Try again, "I'll let them know that you, uhm, appreciate their work." Her face scrunches: Zayzay? Her head snaps back to H'kon, eyes still wide but carrying desperation in their brown orbs. Don't go! "I... will. Clear skies, H'kon." Rather than look at Bones, she drops her gaze to the cloth and looks torn between different chunks of cheese. Despite the mild pulses of confusion, embarrassment, and mild discomfort flairing between their bond, it is the brownrider's words which spur her to action. « Is there disrespect? » Flames flare at the very idea, flickering in her rider's eyes for a moment to identify the culprit. « Does he threaten the eggs? » Fuel is stacked onto her outrage, stirring the gold into standing and pacing outside the galleries. Each stomp matches the beating of her drums: WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT?! (To Azaylia from Hraedhyth) Watches H'kon leave with a smile and a nod, either not noticing his subtle disdain or simply not caring. "Take care buddy!" As soon as the spot opens up, Bones vaults himself over his tier of seats and lands ass first next to Azaylia. "Hey! Seat's still warm! Nice!" He slouches forward to look down at the eggs as he chews another mouthful of roll, but has already leaned back by the time it's finished, turning to look at Azaylia. "So Zee, you're a uhh..." he pauses, as if he has entirely forgotten the title. "... weyrwoman? That's cool. Sounds all prestigious and shit. You get people bowing, kissin your hands and stuff? Hehe." Through another jolt of fear, Azaylia reaches out to her golden lifemate. « He's just... different. I'm sure he means no disrespect. » There's an attempt to cover up any uncertainty she has about Bones. « And he doesn't even seem interested in the eggs. » Let alone wanting to harm them. Floral and sweet, she attempts to soothe Hraedhyth's concerns. Eventually, she manages to convince the dragon to return to her post- guarding the galleries outside while the clutchparents handle things inside. (To Hraedhyth from Azaylia) Azaylia gives a startled bounce, fists clenched right under her jaw and eyes screwed shut as Bones lands in H'kon's abandoned spot. A swallow, and she opens her eyes, "A... weyrwoman, yes." Her mtions are slow, careful, not wanting to make any sudden movements while the beastly man is watching her. She picks up a bit of cheese next, "I'm one of four here, at High Reaches Weyr. I... get the feeling that you, uhm, might be new to weyrlife?" What with his vaguely inappropriate questions. Then again, what about the man isn't? Barnabas finishes off the last of his roll with one last bite, taking a moment to chew before speaking again. With a back-and-forth clap his two hands back to clear them of food crumbs, his mastication was purposefully exaggerated to let her know that soon enough, she'd have to endure more of his grating voice once he was done. Then the swallow came. "Mmmhmm, yeah, just arrived pretty much. Tryin to get a feel for things. Y'know, makin' friends, stealing their meat rolls, scarin' ladies and pissin' off their boyfriends, HA!" Another loud, single-note laugh. Well, at least he seemed to have enough grasp on reality to get a sense of the impression he gave. Azaylia managed to fill her own mouth several more times in the length it took Barnabas to finish chewing. "O-oh. Well, welcome to High Reaches, then." She made an attempt to be a gracious weyrwoman, startled into blinking by his words. "A-ah, boyfriend? If you mean H'kon..." The embarrassed dip of her chin should be enough to realize that he's mistaken. If not, she'll give a little shake of her head. Rather than say anything else, she reaches for a sweetroll- lightly dusted with sweetner and with a bit of fruit filling inside, and offers it to him. Easier than actually trying to find her voice in that moment. Barnabas gives a few blinks at her quiet reaction, pausing to decipher what the sequence of stutters and shakes actually mean. "Oh, you mean he ain't your man? Hehe, I gotcha." He takes her fruit roll and a chunk soon disappears between his teeth, chewed at the corner of his mouth. "So you're available then?" A creepy double-raise of his eyebrows followed, taking a moment of silence to let the horror sink in, before exploding into another laugh. "Ahhh Ha ha! I'm just teasin ya, Zee. I aint fixin to put moves on ya." Azaylia snaps her head up and stares at Bones, lips pursing as she tries to subtly inspect the stranger. His raised eyebrows have her giving a subtle flinch, biting her lower lip as the goldrider finds herself in an unfamiliar situation. When was the last time she desperately wanted to reject someone? It turns out that she doesn't have to, giving a nervous laugh as Bones takes back his slimy words. "A..haha. Ha." Clearing her throat, she looks out at the gold and brown clutchparents that guard their seven eggs on the sand. "S-so, is.. uhm. Looking forward to the hatching?" Barnabas follows the lead of her eyes, looking out onto the sands to give the dragons and their eggs another look. "I dunno, should I be?" He gives a shrug and licks his fingers clean of sticky fruit filling and powdered sugar. "To be honest with ya, I just heard it was warm down here. First thought at seein 'em was just like..." another pause, even his mouth going still as he looks surprisingly contemplative for a few silent seconds. "... how many friggen omelettes could you make outta one of those suckers! Right?" The big grin comes back, and he rises to his feet as he pops the last bite of fruit roll in his mouth. "Hehe, that last one might'a been in poor taste." This time, instead of clapping his hands free of crumbs, he goes a step further and wipes them on the front of his pants. "Anyway, I gotta make like your boyfriend H'kon and head on out. Still lookin for work around here. For some reason, I seem to keep rubbing people the wrong way. Can you imagine? Me! Ha!" He turns to leave, but only gets a few steps before stopping and looking to the goldrider over his shoulder. "Oh, almost forgot, thanks for the grub. I can see why the little guy was so quick to fight me off. Yer good people Zee. Toodles!" He gives a laugh as he exits the galleries. Azaylia looks horrified by Bones' comment about the eggs. Hands are pressed tightly against her lips, wide eyes glancing towards both Rielsath and Svissath. "That... you.. I can't... you..!" Flustered, and not in her usual way, Azaylia resembles a mother wherryhen about to chase a predator from her nest. He won't even get a farewell, standing as he does and taking a step or two after the large man as he leaves. Her manners end up winning over in the end, though she sounds very tense. "Thank you." Huff! Hraedhyth will keep an eye on Barnabas as he walks past, eyes whirling with flecks of yellow-crimson in her gaze. « ...Am I allowed to eat him now? » Luckily for the stranger, she is not. |
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