Logs:What Weyrlings Think About a Day Later
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| RL Date: 16 March, 2013 |
| Who: Alida, Sabella, K'zin, C'wlin, Ilicaeth, Ghislaith, Rasavyth, Athimeroth, Cailluneth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: A day and a half after the Hatching, the weyrlings examine where they stand (with their lifemates and each other). |
| Where: Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 4, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Snow pockets on the ground, but melting. |
| Mentions: N'ky/Mentions, Barnabas/Mentions |
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| Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr All the furniture here has been pushed to one side of the room to allow a large pathway opposite: room enough to let weyrling dragons pass from the bowl's archway to the cavernous barracks at the back. None of the furniture matches, either: it varies from big cushioned, claw-footed chairs to those of plain wood, while the most seating is at the two stone tables ringed by low and equally hard stone benches. Without the tapestries that decorate many of the Weyr's other interior spaces, the room always echoes with noise, no matter how few are there. What it does have, however, are several colorful murals: on one wall, a detailed diagram of a dragon's anatomy; opposite, next to a creaky wooden door, a number of painted and labeled wing formations. Near the entrance is a large-scale version of the Weyr's badge, while the back wall, by the barracks, features a detailed map of the continent. The latter area's also home to one big, beat-up couch, black or maybe blue -- the thing's so old and filthy it's hard to tell, though it's certainly comfortable. It's been a day and a half since hatching, and this evening finds the High Reaches Weyrling Training Cavern housing a number of the new pairs, all about various tasks. Off to one side, for the time being, there are some oil vats, with reeds laid down to catch any droppings. This is where Rasavyth and K'zin can be found, the former Smith meticulously oiling the diminutive (by comparison) bronze. Every now and again his movements halt abruptly, followed by an annoyed face, and usually a sigh of compliance before he alters his technique or changes his position. The only reason Alida's out here with her bouncing baby blue right now is that Ilicaeth is insisting on seeing the leftover snow on the ground (since the blonde's secondhand mental pictures aren't quite good enough for him). While the little dragon is pretty chipper and curious, his erstwhile rider... is *not*. Alida looks like death warmed over, dark circles under her rather hazy eyes, her movements - usually so easy and graceful - rather hitched and automatized. Every tenth breath or so, the guard yawns and shakes her head while she tries to concentrate on walking around with the curious 'caeth. You have to feed these things? With meat that you cut up yourself? You're going to get blood on your hands? No, Sabella isn't done reading the memo that came with that one yet. She stands at one of the stations, hacking meat off of a carcass and chunking it into smaller pieces. Ghislaith is close by, creeling low and staring up with whirling eyes to her new lifemate. The former hairdresser makes a face at the stuff all over her hands and begins to toss pieces to her dragon. "Ugh." At long last, Rasavyth seems satisfied with the oiling he's been given and K'zin tidies up the area. He doesn't try over-hard to make things neat; after all, at the rate these babies are growing, oiling happens-- well, far too often as far as K'zin is concerned. The long, sharp-featured face of the bronze directs towards the chopping stations next and with a heavy sigh, the brown-haired man is trodding his way towards them. Their path brings them near Alida and her lifemate, and he raises a brow in subtle greeting to the woman before making sure his sleeves are sufficiently rolled. He slides into the station beside Sabs. "At least they haven't taken our hair yet," is the oh-so-cheery-thought he greets her with. Finally growing weary (more like bored with) of the sloppy snow leftovers outside, Ilicaeth trundles back inside the big cavern with an easy chirrup, Alida following him back a little more quickly, since she's already chill from outside air. K'zin's raised brow is almost missed, but leave it to the blue dragon to notice things...and inform his lifemate of such. With a jerk of head up from the ground and a bleary focus of greens upon Waki's browns, the guard mumbles thickly, "Fucker's always wakin' up...wakin' me." There's only a little spite in her thick alto, much more leftover pleasure in speaking of Ilicaeth, who proudly lifts his head and chuffs his pleasure to the young woman. A squint over at Sabella's complaining about having to hack up meat is followed by a grumbly addition from the holder woman: "Quicher' bitchin'. Try livin' in *my* boots." Sabella lifts one hand to touch her hair, then remembers that it's all covered in blood. She stops just before that contact is made and takes a long, deep breath. "My hair." She'd forgotten all about that, mostly anyway. Slowly the new weyrling turns her head and tips her chin up to consider K'zin. Ghislaith opens her hungry little maw up and she tosses another chunk of meat into it, almost casually. "I never got payment from you for your soon to happen haircut, by the way." Just in case he thought that she might have lost track of that. Though frustrated with the mess on her hands, she does manage to flash him a pretty little smile. For Alida, the Cromese girl just lifts one eyebrow. "I'm sorry, I'll have to pass. I don't wear men's clothing." "Who knew riderhood would be like parenthood, huh?" K'zin poses this question to Alida, and the raises a hand to rub the back of his neck self-consciously before picking up the knife. "Could be worse though. If he didn't wake you, you'd be tending to cracked hide." Not that anyone loves the mid-sleep oilings, feedings, and poop-scooping, but it's better than the alternatives. He picks up the meat carver at the station and pulls a hunk of meat out of the bucket at the edge. "Don't worry, Sabs." Chop. "I'll make good." Chop. "As soon as we're not busy, you'll have your dance and your bangle." Throw. Rasavyth fumbles the meat toss, the piece ending up on the ground. That gets a look and a tilted head towards his lifemate as though to say, Now, really, my good fellow, but you don't expect I shall eat that now that it's gone a-ground? A weak roll of eyes is offered to Sabella for her words, and Alida continues in her tired tones, "If I could spare a shit at this point, I might take minor offense and rub yer wussy little nose in blood. Who knows, it might not even be yer' own." For Waki, the shambling mound of a blonde mumbles, "No...he's even *worse* than a baby." And here 'lida tries to sound like her desert blue dragon boy, making her voice a little raspy, sandy, and deep...yet with a boyish whine. "Alida, I itch all over. Alida, there's something in my couch again. Alida, I can't sleep 'cause the bug is crawling all over my hinde again. Make Athimeroth take it back. Alida..." A lift of one of her hands pantomimes the blue yapping on and on and on. Cue a sudden and harsh, deep yawn of the benthic variety, and the blonde staggers slightly, lurching into Ilicaeth's side, which likely sends *him* lurching into Rasavyth as the two young dragons pass in the night, so-to-speak. Domino effect! Amusement arrives in ripples, lapping in a friendly, lackadaisical manner against the other minds near by. « Would you listen to them? They cluck like old hens. » Rasavyth's tone tells that he's entertained. Then curled into his mindvoice comes a surprisingly accurate mimic of Alida's voice, « He wakes me! He itches! » Laughter rumbles in the young bronze's chest, before his own soft-spoken and soothing mindvoice returns, « You'd think they've never worked a day in their lives, and we know that simply isn't true, don't we? » (Rasavyth to nearby dragons) "I didn't, but then I don't have any children to compare it to." Sabs replies with a quick smile, tossing a few more chunks of meat to Ghislaith. The green isn't bad at catching them, though a few fall to the floor. Eventually she runs out and it's time to carve off some more pieces. The larger bladed knife slices through muscle and she takes a nice section off clean. The next comes teasingly, "Don't think that I'll let you forget either." Dividing it up she begins the process again. The blonde former guard gets a roll of her eyes. Casual and cool, she glances at Alida out of the corner of her eye. "If you ever lay a hand on me, sweetheart? I'll fucking cut you. Don't ever forget that." The same sweet smile she allowed for K'zin before is spared the new bluerider now. She tosses a piece of meat to her lifemate. A desert wind skims along the tops of Rasavyth's waves, a few eddies and swirls formed by the interaction. « I haven't seen a hen, yet. » Apparently Ilicaeth's lifemate's habits have already rubbed off on him, for the blue is quipping back in clipped, smirky humor as he tries to sound like N'ky, « Sh-shards! Did you hear K'zin snoring last night? Alida thought that idiot would deafen everybody. » (Ilicaeth to all Flurry dragons.) To all Flurry dragons, Cailluneth's mind is soft moonlight, interwoven with a stream of excited colour. « Hen? » A suggestion of hot, blood red represents the avian, lusty huntress instinct already vibrant and awake. Then protective white, enrobed around the mimicking of her rider. « Mine, » there's a lot of weight to that word, a possessive, needing kind of weight, « does not think he snores. » Rasavyth's reaction to being bumped by the blue is -- well, understated. Perhaps some of the more fiery personalities would make a fuss, but the bronze simply steps away from the blue, twitching his slightly over-sized wings to resettle them. His calm might come from the fact that he wasn't knocked off his feet. He might not be athletic like the other bronzes, but he does have a good foot of length and whatever weight that amounts to on the blue, so standing his ground is possible. "Careful there," Comes K'zin's equally serene response as he steps to the side himself to give himself some more room. He's chopping again, but offers to Sabs, "If Ghislaith wants that chunk on the ground, Ras isn't going to eat it, so she's welcome. And I'd be offended if you did. It'd probably mean I started to smell as bad as some of the couches do before cleaning, or lost a leg or something." He frowns. Chop. The man looks uncomfortable as threats fly, while his dragon-- well, he's paying attention. Ripples of Rasavyth's amusement ooze from the surrounding pairs to the grouping at large. « There, you see, Ilicaeth? Listen to Cailluneth. You are mistaken. But don't let it worry you, any blue could make that kind of error. » The dragon's supple and inviting voice sounds so-- kindly, sweet, forgiving, though the edge has faint hints of amusement. And perhaps if one were to think of how else one might take those cleverly chose words... (Rasavyth to all Flurry dragons) "You'd never get the fuckin' cha...WHOA!" Alida almost replies in her too-casual tone to Sabella just as she yawn-lurches into Ilicaeth, the distracted blue not seeing it coming, as his head is now turned implacably on Sabs, the little dragon's eyes whirling quickly from blue to orange as she threatens his lifemate...even if only semi-seriously. Right? But good ol' mellow Rasavyth saves his hide (and maybe the day) by not staggering much nor even collapsing, and the little blue's attention immediately diverts to his clutchsib. A genial whurr of low sound from Ilicaeth's lungs is followed by the oddest expression: a slight baring of teeth while the blue tries to tilt his not-so-mobile lips into an upward grin. It might look as if he's trying to sneer at or scare the bronze, but Alida and the other dragons know exactly what 'caeth's trying to convey: low humor...and just the way his lifemate would. Once both blue and Alida have regained their proper footing, the two-legged of the duet grumbles off a low, "Fuckit." One word. "Pardons, Waki." She still can't seem to use his new name very well. "So effing *tired*, I can't see where I'm walkin'." Cue a weak glare at Ilicaeth, who lumbers back over to the blonde, then nuzzling on her leg. Can guards blush? Maybe. A gust of wind whips the waving flags of bannermen, called to formation and rising up from fields of gold, a far distance and blurry view from one who rises above it all. Aether brings ozone and oxygen, Athimeroth listens aloof but not drawn in. A chill encroaches upon the winds, brought from the higher atmosphere to mingle with the gusts of attention. As quickly as the winds come, they leave; attention diverted. (Athimeroth to all Flurry dragons) To all Flurry dragons, Ilicaeth shakes his stony-ridged head with the surety of a mountain, swirling a scratchy eddy of desert sand over that amusement. Nothing like a little power sanding. « Mine was awake most of the night. She *heard* yours snoring while everyone else was asleep. » Implacable, unswerving, sure...he's an unassailable mountain-top. "She's already all over it." Ghislaith is not concerned about where things on the floor have been. She's not one to snub perfectly good meat. The green takes it up in her already bloody maw and scarfs it down. It seems now that she's begining to feel full, sated. But she'll take the next morsel from Sab's hand. The Cromese girl has little else to say to the Pars Hold woman, her one eyebrow lifts at her. There's a definite smirk on her face as she lurches and nearly falls. And it's that look she gave her the first time they met resurfacing, brief and assessing. But ultimately, dismissed. Anyway. "And I'd be offended if you weren't offended by me forgetting about you. Wonders of wonders." She smiles and lifts her shoulder, finishing the job of cutting more meat for her lifemate. "No harm done." K'zin responds to the new bluerider weyrling, then, and perhaps this is to both women, "We're all a bit short on sleep and--" He might've been about to say temper but either he, or his new puppeteer seems to think better of that, and so his mouth snaps shut abruptly and he offers his best charming smile towards both women. "But this part only lasts for so long." Truthfully, K'zin seems to be having an easier time of things so far than most of the others. There's ... well, nothing babyish about Rasavyth's behavior. When it's time for him to be fed or oiled or cleaned up after, the bronze takes charge by waking his lifemate and indicating the task to be accomplished before he can sleep again. "Glad we got the whole offenses thing straightened out." This is offered to the greenrider weyrling, though he might be speaking of both their conversation and the verbal altercation between the women. "What's the best part so far?" Is he really playing the 'let's keep it positive!' card? Yeah, yeah he is. To nearby dragons, Rasavyth reins in the reach of his mental touch, still soft, still homey, « Well, my dear, Ilicaeth, I can see that you shan't be dissuaded, but when you finally find your fault, you will remember that I did try to warn you. » Then the amusement and the touch begin to withdraw. Another small roll of Alida's tired green eyes is again aimed at the new greenrider and her ignoring of the prickly bluie, though quickly enough, a soft snork of dark humor soon follows for K'zin's temporizing, and the guard shakes her plaited head, then giving it up with a low mumble of, "How 'bout you 'n I switch kids for 3 days, so I c'n get some sleep, then?" to the bronzerider. Unconsciously, one of her shapely, strong hands reaches downward, and finds the headknobs of the little blue dragon at her side, Ilicaeth suddenly breaking into a rumbling croon as his eyes shift immediately over to blue again. Even his nearly-ever-twitching tail halts its motions, temporarily. From Alida again comes a clipped, one word answer to the bronzer's inquiry: "Him." To K'zin and he alone, Rasavyth's humor is not veiled with fabricated kindness and sincerity. As Alida suggests the switch, his laughter rolls through the weyrling's head. « As though that simple-minded, brawn of a girl would ever be up to the task of partnering with me. » Partnering, here, is a loose term, since Rasavyth is clearly the power in these parts. « She'd be on her back, legs in the air and crying uncle before the night was out. » Though images are used sparsely, here he plucks an image from K'zin's memory, one of Bones, and the look he has when he's just made a dirty joke. (Rasavyth to K'zin) Are they all short on sleep? Sabella seems prepared to respond to that but instead allows some silence to lapse from her. While the green is done chomping down on her dinner, the weyrling kneels down and wipes at some of the blood on the dragons maw. Her expression is carefully neutral for what comes from K'zin, though she does shoot him a certain amused look. "Oh, I'd have to say that the best part is getting to know all of the unique people I'll be sharing the next turn and a half of my life with. Life. Long. Friendships." Her smile is slow and secretive as she finishes cleaning up her lifemate's face. To all Flurry dragons, Cailluneth soothes with warm, sleepy balm. « Yours may have been mistaken, Ilicaeth. » Simple, soft, tempered with tiredness. To all Flurry dragons, Ilicaeth listens to all replies, but his buttress of stone is pretty unbending. « Mine is rarely wrong about things she observes... » is noted with a certain jaw-thrust and faint huffiness, but the rather personable blue soon simmers down, notes in closing to his siblings, « I still wish Athimeroth would take back his bugs. » K'zin laughs. Even as he laughs, he tries to stop. The laughter comes on the heels of Alida's suggestion that they switch. He chokes it back pretty quickly, though his cheeks are blazing crimson now as he manages, "I'm not sure it works that way, 'lida. Surely Ilicaeth would prefer your attention to mine." The laughter clearly wasn't at Alida's question or his polite decline of the offer, but something-- else. A glance is slid towards the bronze, and then he hands over another chunk of meat. "That's just-- so... sweet, Sabs." K'zin clearly is not buying the story she is selling, but he grins, so he's not calling her out on it outright. "It's flattering to know how long you want me in your life," He jokes before nodding to Alida, "Then think of all this lovely interrupted sleep as the price you pay for that. None of them can help it." He shifts his attention to offer another hunk of meat to his lifemate. « Rarely, perhaps, but currently, for certain. She's tired, though Ilicaeth, can't you see that you've made her so? » Rasavyth's tone is that of a gently chiding old Uncle, « Tch. You say she's rarely wrong, but I suspect she rarely falls into you and has you off balance enough to stumble into me. » Kindly concern oozes from his touch, but there's just something still faintly amused in his tone. « Now, what's this about bugs? Is that why you're running yours ragged? » A tickle of breeze, carrying the scent of the jungle at night reaches for Cailluneth's mind, showing that he hasn't missed her contributions to this exchange. (Rasavyth to all Flurry dragons) For once, Alida takes someone's pricking of her with humor, though it's spare and dark, as usual. A patently false kissy-face is offered back to Sabella's sarcastic words of friendships with her clutchsibs, the blonde then smirking and snarking to herself afterward, though it quickly dies down. K'zin's laughter is given a lift of both brows, his blazing cheeks a bleary peer...and just as suddenly as the bronzer's humor ceases, well, 'lida is grinning hugely at him. "I'd bet a mark on *who* inspired that..." is noted around a leftover smirk that lingers in greens, the blonde then inquiring of Ilicaeth, "Gettin' hungry yet?" A soft huff is his answer, even as the blue's outer wing starts twitching...along with his long tail. A...'look' appears on his somewhat mobile features - concentration - and soon enough 'caeth is creeling loudly, and butting his nose into the guard's thigh. "Oh fer fuck's *sake*..!" is groaned out, even as she's shambling quickly off towards the nearest oil pot...followed by the creeling and scratching 'rock'...who's wing is fluttering open and shut, open and shut. "Isn't it?" Sabs shoots back to him, tipping her chin and looking up at the other teenager. She smiles impishly at him, so very aware that he's caught onto that line of bullshit but isn't calling her on it either. She wrinkles her nose at his next and laughs, shaking her head. "Waki- Can I still use that when I talk to you? I'm overjoyed to hear that you're so flattered over my expression of interest in your continued presence in my life. My heart is ready to burst, truly." She puts one delicate, bloody hand over her chest and exhales dramatically after the lengthy declaration. Whether that kissy-face is patently false or not, the weyrling makes a show of blowing one right back at Alida. Complete with a suggestive wink. She's not concerned with the snarking smirk that comes afterwards, obviously. There's no reply of any sort to the bronze's words of Alida being terribly tired, but Ilicaeth is still listening, at least in part. At least Rasavyth *did* admit that the blue's rider is often right. Finally, a rocky wall hovers into view from nowhere, and Ilicaeth speaks from beyond it. « Sometimes it's those damned bugs... » And just as he's about to try and explain the near-incessant itching he's going through...it happens...and it's inadvertently transmitted to all of 'caeth's siblings who are listening. Itching. No, scrap that. MONUMENT ITCHING that starts as a pinpoint thing, which then leaps to wings, then headknobs, tail, and finally all over. It then skips here and there, everywhere, like flies that keep taking off and landing upon one's vulnerable hide. (Ilicaeth to all Flurry dragons) "You'd probably win if anyone decided to take your bet, Alida." K'zin responds to the former guard, shrugging his shoulders, "He's a funny guy." Rasavyth's head taps the weyrling's leg lightly, drawing attention back to the task at hand: he's not finished yet. So more meat is cut and delivered to the waiting maw. "You can call me that, I'll still answer. But he'd rather you call me K'zin. As that's my name." At least, according to Ras. "Keep putting your hand like that, and it will look like your heart really did burst all over your chest." He observes the bloody hand, amusement touching his face. "And no kissing unless I'm there." That is directed to both women. "But if you're going to kill each other instead, leave me out of it. Yeah?" The yeah is asking for both confirmation that they will inform him of any such kissing and also for understanding that he wants no part of them slaughtering one another. "Sounds like he 'n 'caeth oughta' be best buds, then..." Alida quips around her smirk to K'zin's words of his bronze, before she's hauled away by those horrifically itchy feelings from the blue. Once the guard's lifting up the paddle and slathering oil all over his wings as fast as she can, the itchiness starts to subside, though not quickly enough for either lifemate. Cue a heavy set of claw-scritchings at Ilicaeth's neck ridges, followed by the contortions of his twitching, lashing tail...the blue nearly twisting out of his skin at times, or so it seems. "I'm hurrying, I'm HURRYING!" Alida growl-barks out. "But you'd rather I not, as well?" There's a distinction she makes there, something serious sprinkled through the light tone that she uses. Ghislaith butts her head against her chest, pushing that hand out of the way on her chest. Sabs laughs low and sighs, "K'zin is a good name. And I'm resigned to not wearing any of my good clothes again for at least a couple of months. So bloody burst heart shirt it'll just have to be." She flutters a hand at him for his confirmation of kissing and killing. Put lightly, "Alida chooses her own fate." As in: she can't make promises about the future, but she certainly won't be starting it. She flashes a teasing smile up at him anyway, "I'll make sure to invite you along the next time I kiss someone, don't worry on that though." Being freshly oiled, himself, Rasavyth seems to have kept the mental itch shared by the blue from translating to a real itch. He finishes up what turns out to be his last piece and then casts a gaze to K'zin that lasts only a moment before he croons a farewell to Ghislaith and Ilicaeth, and then he's gliding on sure feet back into the barracks. His lifemate blinks after the bronze, lips pursing. Then he sighs, starting to clean up the chopping block. "I'm pretty sure he's weird for a dragon." Not that the former-Smith has ever shared his head with a dragon before and thusly doesn't know for certain. The comment isn't said loudly, so likely only Sabs would be able to hear it, and it's said with the intonation of one speaking to himself lest the thought not be safe to have inside his head. He leans against the block, folding his arms across his chest, smiling at Sabs, "You can call me Waki. Just-- he'll not like you as much as if you called me K'zin. Depends on how far into his good graces you'd like to be." He then raises his voice to call to Alida, "Oh, he'll be anyone's friend. Friendly and funny, that's Rasavyth." There's a laugh for this, but its fleeting. He points a finger to Sabs, "Only if it's another girl. Or me. I'd want to be there if it were me. But I'll pass on watching you snog some other guy." He says it, but the way he says it sounds like perhaps he only half-means it. Who knows what kind of lecherous, low-moraled lamebrain he might be turning into now that he's Impressed a bronze? "Then let *him* oil Ilicaeth!" Alida calls out in return to 'The Son of Z'ian' (or Z'ian II: The Sound of Perv!). It takes minutes to practically dump oil all over that fiendishly-itchy blue hide, but to 'caeth and 'lida, it feels like a small eternity. Finally, *finally* the task is completed while the other two newly-minted riders chat, and it leaves the little blue dragon crooning loudly in utter relief, and Alida plopping her wasted ass onto the stony floor so she can rest without keeling over in exhaustion. With a strange delicacy that Ilicaeth might seem at though he's incapable of possessing, the blue opens one of his magnificent wings and hovers it just over his assed-out lifemate, not quite touching, but protecting her from being viewed by anyone. ...Well that was different. Sabella watches after Rasavyth with her lips pursed and pulled to the side. "Well, anyway. I'm sure you'll get used to it." Her response is quiet and she's certain on that, at least she sounds like she is. The weyrling busies herself with scratching along Ghislaith's rather pointy neckridges, admiring them in between speaking with K'zin. "I'm not so worried with his impressions of me since I won't be talking to him much. But I'll try to use your name when he's around. Waki can be our little secret." It's pitched low and conspiratoral, lest that young bronze hear from across in the barracks somehow. Also, it doesn't sound as if it's so serious as all that. When he raises his voice, she glances across to Alida. Then her gaze flickers up to him once again, an eyebrow smoothly lifting as she laughs. "If it were you, I wouldn't need to invite you to come and watch. Now would I? You'd already be very present." To K'zin, Rasavyth's voice drifts drowsily to touch K'zin's mind, amusement still plain in his manner, « As if there were such a thing as secrets between us. » Whether K'zin likes it or not, and there's a flash of the wild-eyed wide grin that the lad wore on the hatching sands before Rasavyth made his claim. The claim that will change him forever. "Friend. Not servant." K'zin calls back to Alida with a smirk that mirrors one that she might make. "He leaves that to those who should do that kind of work. In this case, he means you. In his case, he means me. And so on." Amusement is in his eyes, though there's something a trifle grim in the set of his lips, as though something were bothering him, though he doesn't see fit to share just now. He watches the blue a moment and then says, "Addendum. If you and 'lida kiss and that one's around," He indicates Ilicaeth, "None of that wing curtaining thing. I want unobscured observation." To Sabs, he comments, "Ras was tired. He went to take a nap." By way of excusing his departure. "I'm sure I'll be needed to clean up soon enough." Gorge, purge. Gorge, purge. ITCH! That's the order of the day (and everyday, from now until they're grown, enjoy kids!). He can talk all day about girls kissing with nary a blush (probably because he's certain it's all one big joke and never going to happen), but the conspiratorial edge to Sabs' voice and her words to him have him blushing a pretty shade of pink. "One would hope. But sometimes I need some reminding." Even at times when he ought to know not to get distracted. The only answer Alida gives to Waki is a typical roll of eyes. But *now* she's slowly slumping over in her cross-legged sit - though that state remains unseen by most in here, due to Ilicaeth's wing shroud. Finally, however, the little blue gives a massive yawn that makes his form wobble, his wing then slowly lifting and retracting as his nose gently whuffles the young woman in the chest. Wake up...so we can go to bed. Rather like a kid herself, the guard jerks upright and dazedly awake, finally climbing to her feet a bit unsteadily, and then heading back within the barracks with one limp hand settled on her blue's head. Both have half-masted eyelids as they stagger to their much-needed rests, neither looking back. C'wlin has arrived. Athimeroth has arrived. Ghislaith is pushing against her again, whirling eyes slow and demeanor looking near to sleep now. Sabs turns that scratching to another spot, working to relieve the itch as she carries on the conversation between the other weyrling. "Isn't that the way of things now?" She comments idly back, distracted by something passing between her and the green. Her mouth purses and she frowns just a touch. Soon though, she's shaking it off and watching as Alida leaves them to go sleep. For K'zin there's a low round of laughter. "No wing curtaining if I'm ever kissing her. That shouldn't be a problem." And probably won't be because the odds of it ever happening at all are very, very slim. The Cromese girl is pulling herself to her feet, her gaze mostly on her lifemate but flickering to the teenager enough to catch his blush. Her smile is coy, "Well. If that situation were to arise, I wouldn't leave you there wondering and confused." That's consolation, right? She stretches an arm out and snatches just one more piece of meat to toss to Ghislaith. K'zin and Sabella are standing by the stations set up for chopping up meat and feeding hungry dragons. Rasavyth is nowhere to be seen, which is fairly unsurprising in the day and a half it's been since the hatching - he's one very independent dragon. If one were coming from the barracks, one might've seen him sleeping in his couch, freshly oiled and bulging from fullness. "Well, that's a relief." K'zin's voice holds playfulness as he speaks with the nearby green weyrling pair. "Do you like it, so far?" He asks, tone more serious now. "Being--?" He makes some gesture in the air that might mean he has an alien in his brain, or the concept of sharing one's mind with a dragon. (It is sort of the same thing, right?) "If what were to arise?" C'wlin asks, emerging from the barracks with Athimeroth in tow, catching the tail end of Sabella's remark. The green weyrling is given a longer look for the fact that she's the unknown in this little equation. Settling himself next to the pair of them, he gives K'zin a querying look as well, perhaps for his gesture. Athimeroth follows only far enough to find the first -- and highest -- perch to climb atop. From there, whirling eyes of serene blue regard, well, everything. "I..." Sabs doesn't have an answer ready for this, even though this would obviously be something she should be prepared for. The weyrling struggles briefly for an answer before she eventually smiles, lifting slender shoulders. "I won't lie and say it's a fairytale. But I wouldn't turn my back on her for anything." Ghislaith croons and nudges with her dark green head, urging the weyrling to get moving. Towards the barracks supposedly. C'wlin's arrival catches her attention, as do his words. For him she just has a sly expression and begins to leave, wordless in response to the question. But before she's gone, she steps back to K'zin to drop a hand on his elbow. "I'm sorry about before. I have been tired." Her expression is soft and apologetic, then she's really going. Green trailing sleepily behind her. K'zin watches Sabella and Ghislaith head off towards the barracks, and can't help but roll his eyes at her back. It's not in the classic use of the gesture, but in the less frequently seen, but equally valid: Ohhhh, maaaaaan. Girls.' He grins to C'wlin, "She'll make sure I'm aware that I'm there if we're kissing." Beat. "Which isn't going to happen, and only came up because she and Alida were making kissy faces at each other after they threatened to kill each other." Such a wealth of information so freely handed over to the blonde. "Well, not kill. But, uh, cut? Hurt? I dunno. It was awkward." All of this was hastily delivered, and then K'zin becomes the picture of what his last phrase was: awkward. Finally, "Uh, how are you and Athimeroth?" Returning sly for entitled, C'wlin watches Sabella turn and go back towards the barracks. Only a moment does a thoughtful expression rest on sharp features before the weyrling turns to the table and the meat. When K'zin provides his not-quite-an-explanation, the former harper only manages to raise an eyebrow. "Just Impressed and already planning kissing. Tch, tch." Is it a tease? Delivered dead-pan with little but proper, crisp enunciation to go on, it's difficult to tell. "Well. You and Rasavyth?" Rather than continue down the path of K'zin's very confusing explanation regarding girls, the boy's happy to turn the topic to something else. Athimeroth is patiently -- or not so patiently -- awaiting the morsels that C'wlin begins to cut up. "Just Impressed and already my lifemate is making dirty jokes in my head. Kissing is the least of it." K'zin gives a little shudder, as though he's seen too much courtesy of Rasavyth. "Well, I wouldn't say so if he weren't asleep, but I'm not sure he's a normal dragon, C'wlin." There's concern in his brow. "He doesn't-- I mean, I see the others. They're all sticking with their lifemate, you know?" He gestures to Athimeroth as the most recent example. "Ras just... goes off on his own, doesn't need me to explain anything to him. I swear the only thing he didn't know was what to call food." He chews his lower lip a moment, "It's kind of scary-- he's kind of scary, actually." Of course, this is the self-same person who didn't sleep for days thanks to C'wlin's murderer bedtime stories. "What's-- what's he like?" He nods towards the bronze. C'wlin's motions slow as K'zin continues, blue eyes regarding his fellow bronze weyrling from 'neath lowered, equally pale lashes. Knife slices raw, juicy flesh at the same time Athimeroth licks his chops. Yea, baby. C'mon, chop chop stupid human! "He," the weyrling points out logically, "obviously needs you or you wouldn't be here with him. Want, need, it's the same thing isn't it?" C'wlin is not as trainable as Athimeroth would like him to be, not budging from where he stands, stubborn to the core. So finally, the bronze has to scramble down and quick-like, make his way towards his lifemate. "Athimeroth is like..." the former harper starts to describe, when he stops. "Like the wind. Forceful, does his own thing, has his own plans and doesn't like to be told anything. Stubborn is what I call it." Meat's dropped into Athimeroth's waiting mouth, when C'wlin finally turns to K'zin. "Surely there must be something he comes to you for?" Poor, sweet, innocent K'zin. How little does he know of what is about to befall his simple mind. It's like an alarm clock for Rasavyth, the warning bell that sounds loudly to wake him, but not soon enough to stop K'zin from saying with a shrug, "To keep his many secrets." As soon as it's out of his mouth, his face is contorting into a wince of pain. "Argh!" He groans, "Excuse me, C'wlin, I have to--" A hand to his forehead and he's stumble-running towards the barracks, looking positively ill. Poor, innocent K'zin, indeed. C'wlin takes some joy in tormenting his once-former Candidate and now-Weyrling with: "Secrets, hmm? Be careful with that," the harper continues, tenor light, almost holding a higher note of singing to it. "Look where secrets have gotten folks..." Dot, dot, dot. The comment might hang perfectly were it not for K'zin's quick departure. Silence falls, with only the sounds of Athimeroth chewing and C'wlin passing off meat chunks to the young dragon. Until, mental thought bridges verbal communication and the weyrling says into the silent room: "Yes. I couldn't agree more." |
Comments
Alida (Alida (talk)) left a comment on Sun, 17 Mar 2013 09:53:35 GMT.
< Good; I see my plan is working well, still.... *bwAHAHAHAaaaaa*
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Sun, 17 Mar 2013 10:03:59 GMT.
<
First of all, this log had me in stitches. Rasavyth is terrible, but wonderful. The way everyone plays off each other is so interesting, especially with the addition of their lifemates. I feel like this is going to be an amazing group to watch throughout weyrlinghood.
Though, it could just be that I'm a sucker for humorous scenes. XD
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