Logs:Who's Who?
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 21 March, 2013 |
| Who: Telavi, Solith, K'zin, Rasavyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'zin runs his mouth at the end of etiquette class. There's a who's who and how short is their hair of the weyrlings as he talks with Telavi. |
| Where: Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 19, Month 4, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: The sky is clear today. The air remains cool and damp, but the weather is overall pleasant today. |
| Mentions: N'hax/Mentions, Sabella/Mentions |
    |
| 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. Part of etiquette is not falling asleep during lectures on etiquette. It probably hasn't helped that Tela's curled up in her favorite of the larger, more comfortably padded chairs, Solith on her lap and a slate balanced on the arm of the chair so that she can at least pretend to take notes should some emergency arise. At least she covers her mouth when she yawns, and now, with the lecture done, she opens sleepy green-blue eyes to take in who's hurrying out, who's staying behind, who's brown-nosing with their teachers. K'zin isn't in a hurry. He's been a seat over from Telavi for today's lessons. He is, by and large, a good student - copious notes filling his slate which can be seen as he slides out of his seat and stretches both arms upward, standing onto his tip-toes to get a good stretch. To the bronze, sitting on his hindquarters beside the cushioned seat, now only four inches shorter than himself, he murmurs to the dragon, "They have another lecture like that and I'm going to need to paint eyes on my eyelids." Apparently, etiquette is not his favorite topic either. Though it might be one of Rasavyth's, as the dragon gives a derisive snort at the comment and moves through the chairs being cleared to one side to get a better look at the large slate that the key points of the lesson are drawn on. Meanwhile, K'zin just plops back down in his chair, glancing around. Happening to meet Tela's gaze, he nods. "Think they could manage to make it any dryer?" It's a stretch that Telavi finds diversion in watching, a secretive smile curling her lips, though soon thereafter she lolls her head back to examine the ceiling with nearly equal fascination. Solith appears to be watching a couple of her fellow greens tumbling head-over-tail in a tussling flurry of wings and human feet and human complaints, but something of her attention drifts also with Rasavyth towards that slate, fine as his shadow and fresh as a breath of clean air. Still, eventually Telavi looks down again, and there K'zin is again. Amiably, "I think they would have to work at it. It's probably what they do between clutches, actually, refined over the Turns until someone thinks they can do better and tosses the whole thing out." She yawns, then peers at the other weyrling through a lazy blink. "You... had to cut your hair, didn't you. Or was it a choice?" Rasavyth's whirling gaze turns from the slate, perhaps because he's done or perhaps because he's aware of the attention. He shifts his over-sized wings, resettling them on his slender body as he turns back towards his rider. Instead of moving towards K'zin directly, though, he moves towards Solith and her lifemate. He stops just in front of them and warbles softly in friendly greeting. In the meantime, K'zin's been chatting away with a grin, "You know, I never really stopped to consider what they do with all that free time when there aren't candidates or weyrlings to wrangle. You're probably right. Maybe they should spend more time deep cleaning the barracks," His suggestion is delivered softly, lest he be overheard and forced to carry out his own suggestion, "Then there wouldn't be lice to be afraid of. K'del said there was an outbreak when he was a weyrling," Like. 15 or more turns ago. "So the hair was... sort of both. The weyrlingmasters have been grabbing people and returning them to the barracks with hacked off hair. I figured I'd let an actual hair dresser do it so it wouldn't look-- well, like N'hax's. Which is just too short." Beat. "So, forced choice, you could say." Solith's are oversized too, not that they'd necessarily seem that way when those diaphanous sails are folded as they still are, and she extends her sinuous neck in a soft curve so she can chirrup to the other dragonet like the firelizard she isn't. Yes? There's still that subtle sense of a fresh breeze, there in the confines of the not always sweet-smelling barracks, but now it's lit through by golden sunshine. Tela's been absently stroking between her neckridges while the girl listens, her eyes lighting up conspiratorially at the deep cleaning but closing in a kill-me-now blink at the mention of lice. "Thanks for the warning," she now says warmly. "I'll have to remember to wear my cap, put my hair up," and she pats one of her dark blonde braids... only to have to narrow her eyes at briefly-distracted Solith. It isn't words, but it's all but audible: her hair is not a Solith-toy. "When he was a weyrling... he was the former Weyrleader, wasn't he? Wouldn't that have been forever ago? And which one is N'hax again?" Telavi crinkles her nose, admitting all conspiratorially again, "I'm horrible with names. Shh." The sense of the breeze and the sunshine in it is reinforced as Rasavyth's mind picks up on it and echoes it back. He extends his mind towards the green, curiosity extending with the transparent and shimmery ooze of charm that comes with his touch. (Rasavyth to Solith) Rasavyth curls his tail around his toes and sits, watching the other green and her lifemate curiously. K'zin briefly glances towards the bronze, but then is back to chatting. "Well, yeah," A blush touches the former-Smith's cheeks, "I guess that was a long time ago, since he's been Weyrleader for at least as long as I've lived here which is about half my life." He chews his lower lips as though the length of time that has passed since the noted and fearsome lice invasion didn't seem to cross his mind before. Did he cut his hair for nothing? Woe! "N'hax used to be Xhaeon. He was a Journeyman Smith before he ended up a candidate. He's tall and is all like-- well, strong, muscled like a Smith," Like himself. "And has really short hair. Practically shaved. It works on him, but I don't think I've really the face for that." Transparent and shimmery, entrancing. Ooze, perhaps not so much... but the charm! She certainly doesn't seem to doubt its genuineness, re-echoing the shimmer-sunshine back again like a batted ball, ever more concentrated so it begins to resemble a miniature sun in its own right. Like so, a game. Yes? (Solith to Rasavyth) "Really, that long?" Telavi doesn't exactly sound pitying, but perhaps a little concerned. At least the further explanation, and just perhaps the lip-chewing, brightens her smile. "That's a long time to not have lice in a place like this, and here you had me worried. As for Xhae...whatever, I don't envy you boys, having your names all mixed up like that. So, taller than you, more muscled-y than you, shorter hair than you? I suppose that narrows it down a little. N'hax. N'hax, N'hax, N'hax. K'zin. N'hax. We'll see how this goes." She glances down at the dragonets as though noticing for the first time, and scoops Solith up even as she drops her feet to the floor and stands. With an even brighter smile for the other weyrling, "Thank you, K'zin. I'm off to find my hat... before I get hacked!" And Solith can pay attention to her rider, thanks. "Well, hey now. Let's not get crazy. I didn't say more muscled than me." K'zin responds sounding very genuine about correcting that particular misunderstanding. "And I think he's a bit taller, but can't rightly remember. Either way, he's one of the other ones wandering around with something vaguely that color," A hand lazily gestures to Rasavyth, who doesn't seem the least put out by having the objects of his curiosity absconding with one another. It's just another day in the barracks. There's no proper farewell given as it seems one of the assistants did hear K'zin's mouthy suggestion about deep-cleaning the barracks and she's approached him with dustpan and broom. The joys of weyrlinghood! One glance goes to Tela who's leaving anyway and it's meaningful: run while you still can! |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 29 Mar 2013 02:03:55 GMT.
<
Hee. I like Telavi, she's fun. And Solith is cuuuute.
Of course K'zin has to worry about who's more muscled than who. Is that bronzer-ego taking it's hold already? *laughs* Nice scene you guys.
K'zin (Wakizian (talk)) left a comment on Fri, 29 Mar 2013 18:50:45 GMT.
<
Hey, hey now. Bronze has nothing to do with it. I was defending my muscles before I had a dragon! I have the log to prove it: http://ncmush.net/Logs:Untangling_and_Tangling
Leave A Comment