Logs:Vroom!
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| RL Date: 12 December, 2013 |
| Who: Teisyth, Vhaeryth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Daddy visits her Especially. (Okay, not really at all, but they cross paths and she thinks he does.) |
| Where: Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 7, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated. Started ages ago and finally finished today! |
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| Playtime is the best time. Not that Teisyth doesn't like work, on the contrary, she's just as cheerful and spirited for the required parts of her day as those that happen after. But given the choice... well, she makes the one most people would make: play! Now that the weyrlings are flying, playtime involves a lot of airtime in the bowl. Her exuberance extends to every mind who happens through the space with the taste of copper and nuts and the wind-carried « Woohoo! »s, « Yippee! »s, and « Hot dang, did you see that? »s to no one in particular as she tries out new and unusual tricks. If they were to pick a wing for her today, she'd be in Icicle faster than you could say... well, Icicle. (To Vhaeryth from Teisyth) To Teisyth, Vhaeryth's kept an eye on that brood of his, if mostly when he's visiting and his queen's taking a nap. Of course, at night they aren't generally out and about, but times like this... « 'Before the beginning of great brilliance, there must be chaos,' » he intones as sonorously as he can manage, which even for a bronze dragon is quite a bit. « Young Teisyth is rounding the first bend. She's been practicing these maneuvers for quite some time now, » overlaid by flashes of Rukbat at lowering angles, « and look at her go. You don't see that excitement every day, folks. » He even helpfully projects a slow-mo instant replay of her latest move, a backwards somersault of sorts. (To Teisyth from Vhaeryth) It's possible to hear the screeeeeeech to a halt that occurs both mentally and physically as Teisyth is taken surprise by the fact that she's being broadcasted. The physical freeze only lasts a moment because she starts to plummet toward the ground, so of course her wings shift to catch herself and then begin to tred air, holding herself more or less in place. Twin beams of light go casting about the mental space seeking the source of the voice that feels like it's coming from everywhere at once. (To Vhaeryth from Teisyth) A screech that gets amplified. Can any of the other dragons hear it? Are they turning their heads? « Over here, kid. » That's when Vhaeryth's had enough of the high beams; he's not in an announcer's traditional high-up box, but rather on his considerably lower ledge. Well, Iesaryth's ledge, but close enough. The bronze has sharp eyes. To help even more, an insubstantial mirror reflects some of that light right back at her, glass over shiny steel. (To Teisyth from Vhaeryth) Over there! Well, then there is where she is going! She doesn't think twice about landing on Iesaryth's ledge. She might even know the ledge belongs to her mother. Maybe. If she remembers. « Hi! » Teisyth chirps her greeting cheerfully, voice pitched up toward soprano in her excitement. « You were watchin' me! » Observant, isn't she? Brilliant, this one. Good job Vhaeryth! (To Vhaeryth from Teisyth) « You noticed! » Good job Teisyth! Vhaeryth leans down low enough to butt his dark muzzle, darker than the rest of his reddish-bronze head, against her neck or shoulder or wherever's convenient; if she dodges enough that all he gets is air, he'll follow up with a mock growl. « Shh, though. She's trying to nap. » She might be asleep. She might not. (To Teisyth from Vhaeryth) Air! She's faster than she looks as she duck, dart, wiggles out of the way. So much smaller than he, she's got a lot more agility and room to maneuver on the ledge. Teisyth does rein in her mental reach, though, so as not to disturb the 'she' who might be. « Hey now! » is the scold, « G'laer says ain't no strangers supposed t'be touchin' me. Leastways you can offer your name 'afore you get all touchy feely. » While the feeling of 'Ma' is firmly imprinted, apparently 'Pa' got lost somewhere. Maybe it was in the lack of consistent contact (Vhaeryth, absentee father, woe! At least, directly) or just because having a distinctive tie to a gold is different than the bronze that happened to fertilize the eggs. (To Vhaeryth from Teisyth) Loftily: « I knew you before you were hatched. » Perhaps he'd consulted his rider, perhaps not. « I'm Vhaeryth, you're Teisyth. » See? He knows these things. Also, « Duck! » With that, and the uncoiling strength of his haunches, he leaps high enough that he should still clear her anyway. It's not out loud yet, that taunting swish of a long and limber tail as he rises with strong wingbeats: can't catch me. (To Teisyth from Vhaeryth) « Vhaeryth. » Teisyth echoes. There's a blank moment where there should be comprehension, then suddenly, « Hot dang, yer my daddy! » And she leaps right after him, using the duck to help her leap a little higher. She probably can't catch him, what with her being so young and him being, well, full-grown, and a bronze, but she can darn well try and wings straining, she makes a valiant go of it. « Pa! Wait up, Pa! » Her alto might sound a little desperate at that. (To Vhaeryth from Teisyth) She does, by virtue of her size, have acceleration going for her; therefore, it's only once they're well up in the air that Vhaeryth slows down just enough to make the prospect of catching him that much more teasing by its sheer seeming-possibility. As he does, « Wait up, Teisyth? You want me to wait for you? » He even glances back beneath one dark, copper-chased wing. (To Teisyth from Vhaeryth) « Well, I don't want you to run away from me, just 'cuz I didn't know you at first. I do now, Pappy, an'- » Teisyth has been doing her best to keep her concern from her thoughts, but all of a sudden it floods in, « Pleasedon'tleavemeagainsosoonPappy! » There might be the smallest trace of hiccupy sob at the end there. Abandonment issues. (To Vhaeryth from Teisyth) Not a sob. That's a faster wingbeat, right there, and another... and then Vhaeryth's wheeling around to speed back and then catch up with the little one, as though only to inform her, « I wasn't running away from you, I was, » what was he doing? « leading you higher. » Is that better? At all? (To Teisyth from Vhaeryth) Hiccup. Does she believe him? Is her name Teisyth? Of course she does! « Oh! » Her mind immediately floods with relief. « Good. I was skerd there for a second. Sometimes the older dragons run away from me. » She relates this seriously and with some sadness and a distinct lack of understanding. « I usually figure they're just busy, but sometimes maybe it doesn't feel that way. » Then, more pleasantly, « Are you here to visit me, Pappy? » (To Vhaeryth from Teisyth) To Teisyth, Vhaeryth even goes so far as to slow enough to let her keep pace, though it does require a certain amount of gliding, and he does watch where he's going just in case. (Not that Teisyth would ever accidentally crash him into anything, of course, right?) « Sometimes it's just fun to run, » the bronze remarks, not that he's ordinarily loath to pass judgment on others. « 'Working out the kinks today will make for a better tomorrow.' » For her pleasantness, « Of course I came to visit you, and it was because you came to visit me, » said as though that was very special indeed. (Never on purpose at any rate.) Teisyth is easily pleased and especially so by the way that Vhaeryth makes her feel so special. A visit just for her! Oblivious to the fact that he was on Iesaryth's ledge and that it was sort of happenstance that they ended up interacting directly at all. « Hoo-ee. Too true. I once got this kink in my wing, an'- » The story begins. And on it goes. And on. And on. The way in which Teisyth tells her stories could be quite interesting, if the topic were. Unfortunately, this topic isn't, and she follows too many tangents along the way, and too many tangents end in the fact that she doesn't remember, because her memory's like that of any normal dragon. Eventually though, « An' boy did it sure help to work the kink out before I went t'bed. 'Cause that other time, like I said, it hurt so bad, Pappy, I was sure I'd never fly again! » (To Vhaeryth from Teisyth) To Teisyth, Vhaeryth, avoid interrupting someone? Either the Fortian bronze isn't really listening as they loop about, or he must be (temporarily?) tolerant in a way that's not unlike how he 'visited' her in the sky after she 'visited' him on the ledge. And then it turns out Teisyth's gone and taken his aphorism seriously, wrapped it up in her ramblings with a bow of empirical sense and actually gotten back to some sort of a point, which is rare enough that he steals some of the sunshine and mirrors her a spotlight's worth of surprise. It might be gratified, it might be smug, it might be proud but it's certainly pleased. Pleasantly, « So bad, and yet here you are. » Flying! « Do you fly with your rider as well? » « Darn tootin' I do. » And as if that weren't enough of an enthusiastic response made all the warmer by the sensation of his pleasure, « He even lets me do my tricks when we're flyin'. Sometimes I have to stop 'cuz he gets all woosie, but then he lets me back at 'em again soon as he's not. » There's even an internal blush that is mostly excitement, not embarrassment. « He don't like flyin' upside-down, though. Not really. Says it's unnat'rul. » Only, Teisyth doesn't find it to be so. For her, flying upside-down is like flying tipped on one side, or flying backward. It's all fair game in her creative book. (To Vhaeryth from Teisyth) « Does he. Well, if he hurls, upside down's a good time to do it, » Vhaeryth instructs with satisfaction, slowing so that this pass over the feeding pens takes an extra long time, even if they aren't exactly his feeding pens. Even as he's eyeing their contents, this herdbeast or that leaping into shared focus as he considers which snack he'd choose, « He should get used to it. After all, if you do it, how can it not be natural? » (To Teisyth from Vhaeryth) To Vhaeryth, Teisyth does so agree with her sire on that score. For all that she herself may be partial to uncouth humors, being puked on is not funny (whereas puking in general, could be). « Not fer me. I can do it all I want when he's not ridin', only he says since we're partners I have ta pay attention to what he wants. » In addition to her own wants, of course, not in exclusion. « But it's just as well. I don't have t'be as careful when he's not riding on me. » Not that she doesn't love it when he rides, but flying riderless is also so much fun. Doesn't he think so? « Mine says that too, oddly enough, » Vhaeryth returns with amusement, the nature of his tone not just belying but contradicting his words: not so odd at all. And yes, he thinks so. Though, now that they have passed the pens, he breaks off verbally to go with his steepening ascent towards the Star Stones, « Do you carry passengers yet, as well as your rider? Sometimes they need to be entertained, to know what a dragon's capable of! » (To Teisyth from Vhaeryth) To Vhaeryth, Teisyth doesn't find it odd. No, indeed, for all that G'laer took a while to warm up to the idea of her, a weirdo green instead of a bold bronze, and for all that they still have some trouble working together, she's just excited that he's her partner. And that he acts like it now. Though, she can't really remember when he didn't, just has a sense that it wasn't always so, so it makes now even better. « Not yet. G'laer says I need more practice. Especially if I don't want ter get puked on. » Which she most heartily doesn't. « Hey, is yer partner around? Mine wants ter say hi. » « If they do start to puke, » Vhaeryth paternally advises, « Be sure to swerve at an angle so it goes over the edge, » even as he illustrates with a hard turn to the left, complete with an illusory figure astride his neck that might get Teisyth accidental-like if she doesn't swerve too. As for his rider, « He is around. Possibly busy, but, » the bronze's communication carries a sense that, in managing his rider's busy schedule, surely he can make room for Teisyth, and Teisyth's lifemate evidently counts as part of her. « Not immediately, but perhaps he will meet him on the steps when the sun is this low. » With it, the image: the steps in front of Iesaryth's ledge and those in front of the Snowasis, overlaid with that of Rukbat lower than it is now. Steps: pick one. (To Teisyth from Vhaeryth) « Like... » And, of course, as any good child, Teisyth is following his example in the heartbeat after Vhaeryth's has begun, so she does swerve in a way that avoids the phantom passenger's puke, « This? » As to the matter of riders, well, she has to take that to hers. « Alright. He says it ain't important, really. Just a social call. » Something about that makes her giggle though, and as ever it's not a girlish sound... more a giggle that mated with a guffaw and got a snort. G'laer, social. That there's funny! At least, to Teisyth it is. (To Vhaeryth from Teisyth) « Just like that! » Vhaeryth approves. « 'Be assertive when decisive action is needed.' » Along those lines, with answering humor rippling through his consideration like so much damascening, « Then I will pick that ledge for them, » the one in front of the Snowasis with its tables and jars of plants. Something about a drink. N'rov had offered Gallagher one, after all, back in that strange time 'before Teisyth'; it'll make less for conversation and more for comfortably spending time with a beer while their lifemates (and possibly another weyrling or two) go around and around and around. Someone whose name ends in -th, or even more than one someone, should sleep well tonight. (To Teisyth from Vhaeryth) (But won't if her name starts with Teisy-.) (To Vhaeryth from Teisyth) |
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