Logs:You, Too?
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| RL Date: 20 June, 2009 |
| Who: K'del, Z'yi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Cadejoth and Isforaith play in the snow, whilst their riders bond over weyrlinghood. |
| Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 13, Turn 19 (Interval 10) |
| "No, I swear, Cadejoth, I got to go in!" insists K'del, dodging a flurry of snow sent his way by Cadejoth, who has an entirely unfair advantage in this game, given his size. It's dark and cold, but at least not actually snowing at the moment, and though the pair are taking up a fair amount of the lakeshore, there are plenty of people enjoying the ice, or engaged in snowball fights further out into the bowl. The young Weyrleader doesn't seem to be pushing too hard for a ceasefire, despite his complains; he leans down, shaking snow off of his shoulders and bare head, to reach for a handful to throw back, which sails rather wide, to Cadejoth's audible amusement. He pauses to shake his head, pink cheeked, and laugh, as the bronze performs something akin to a victory dance, all wings and tail and trampling paws. In tromps in Z'yi and Isforaith. Isz takes /one look/ at Cadejoth's victory dance, and turns to fiercely glare at Raith. "No. Don't. Even. THINK. About. It." Each word is punctuated by a jabbing pointed finger. Raith, meanwhile, ignores Z'yi in classic Raith type, and moves a few steps closer to his sire, staring at this... wagging-tail-dance in equal parts dubious humor and awe-struck 'how cool'ness. Z'yi follows him with a barely-tolerant sigh. After the sigh, a whipcord blue tail darts, nearly as quick as the speed of thought, to skim through the snow and swing up to whap Isz on the back of the neck. WHAP. Z'yi stumbles forwards, muffling a curse. Cadejoth notices the weyrling pair sooner than his rider does, and exudes his excitement with an even louder rumble, which is probably also meant as encouragement to join: what fun! « Hello, Isforaith! » he greets, mid step, as his left forepaw extends again to sweep another load of snow towards his rider. This time, K'del dodges the most of it, crouching in the snow as he lifts his head to consider Isforaith and his rider, looking somewhere between embarrassed and amused. "Cadejoth's setting an awful example again, isn't he? Sorry, Z'yi." Z'yi glares at Isforaith's shoulder. The point of the blue's shoulder is exactly level with his eyes, and he scowls after the darkling blue for a moment or two, before snapping a crisp salute towards K'del (and dodging a FWOOSH of snow that Isforaith batters towards him with his wings). "He's fine. Sir. If mine wasn't a /freaking lunatic/," Isz annoyedly states, "He wouldn't be affected by play as such." Raith settles still, and seems to Plot(tm), for the time being. « Hi, dad, » he replies in his ale-soaked baritone, hearty fires blazing and crackling behind a curtain of rough, home-brewed rum. "If he wasn't Cadejoth's get, he might not be a 'freaking lunatic', as you say," points out K'del, wiping snow off of his hair with one gloved hand, after returning the salute somewhat self-consciously, but with the kind of crispness that speaks of not actually being all that out of the habit of it. His gaze slides back to Cadejoth, who has at least halted the dance for the moment, but mostly so that he can inspect Isforaith thoughtfully. « Dad. That's me, isn't it? » It's obvious that it excites him, given the clatter of bones and clink of chains that, faster and faster, marks his thoughts. « Exciting! The snow is awful fun, isn't it? So's sliding on the ice, but K'del doesn't let me do that. He remembered it for me, though. From when I was-- like you! Small. » « Uh. Of course you're dad. Who else would be? » Isforaith momentarily flashes a mental image of Wyaeth looming paternally, with a ridiculous cowboy hat perched on his headknobs and spurs clanking along with his talons. Z'yi snorts- apparently he got a bit of that, too- and moves warily around the two dragons to stand closer to K'del's vicinity. Hey. Maybe he can hide behind the weyrleader if it comes to that. Even though K'del's slender to his brawn. "No, I think Isforaith... would be Isforaith, regardless of who exactly his parents were," Isz comments, tone faintly amused. "At least. I think so." Raith now suspiciously eyes up at his 'papa' with a distrustful look. « You... used to go /out there/? » A sudden image paints the frozen lake as a predator waiting to pounce, all jagged ice spars and cold, freezing water ready to drown ay unwary travellers. sp/ay/any The sound that Cadejoth makes next might be akin to a howl of laughter; it's certainly echoed by as much, mentally, the notes tinkling down his mental chains in obvious amusement. « Wyaeth would make a very funny father. Though he is... I think... My /grandfather/. K'del says. » "I don't know how much they get from their parents," admits K'del. "Guess I can't imagine Cadejoth being anything but Cadejoth, either, no matter who sired him." Cadejoth's distraction with Isforaith has, at least, stopped the snow from flying, at least for the moment. "How're things, Z'yi? Weyrlinghood. All that." « I did! » Cadejoth projects an image of himself doing so, slipping and sliding all over the ice, though much, much smaller. He even goes to fetch a stick from the other side, and pads back. « Uanth says there are things in the like, but K'del says not. /I/ never saw any. » That he remembers. « And I never fell in. » Isforaith still ain't buying it. The blue rearranges himself, before staring openly at Cadejoth, as something catches up to him belatedly. Hey, don't look at him, he's slow! (His daddy's son!) « Wait. That makes.. Wyaeth.. my /great/ grandfather? » There's a certain tone of wtfery there. Z'yi, meanwhile, ignores the aftershave-spicy nonverbal shock of surprise from his lifemate and focuses in on K'del. "Oh. They're... good." Isz waves a hand around a bit absently. "It's my turn at wingleader, so it's been a busy few days, just trying to get caught up. But I think we're getting there." There's a certain amount of pride to his tone, as he gazes over to Raith. "I think we all are." Regarding his fellow classmates, of course. Cadejoth is totally /not/ slow. For a given definition, anyway. « Sure! » he agrees, with a warm rumble. « Because he was my mother's daddy, and you're my son. Though K'del says that great-grandfathers are really old... Wyaeth doesn't /look/ that old. » His tail goes thump, thump, thump against the snowy ground, as he sends another sweep of the stuff towards the two riders, with a private laugh for Isforaith: got them! Maybe. It certainly gets K'del, who was half way through saying, "Good. Glad to hear it. And you're liking being Win--" A mouthful of snow prevents him from finishing that; he splutters, and coughs. "Cadejoth!" Sure. Not slow. Isforaith isn't slow, either! He's got /great/ reflexes. Reflexes enough that he shovels snow just a second or two after Cadejoth does, managing to douse his own rider, who narrowly avoided the bulk of Cadejoth's white snow-wave. Z'yi sputters out snow, and glowers (again). "/Raith/," he complains. Loudly. Isforaith, meanwhile, cackles. « Good one. Never saw it comin', » he smugly confers to his sire, ambling forwards a step or two to innocently stretch out his head towards Z'yi. "He's never going to grow out of it. Is he. Sir." « We make a good team! » decides Cadejoth, shaking his chains merrily as he bounds up and down - quite a sight, really, given his height. "Er," says K'del, once the bulk of the snow has been wiped away from mouth and face, not to mention his increasingly cold looking ears. "Probably not? If he's like Cadejoth, anyway. But..." He takes a deep breath, and the glance he lets rest upon his lifemate is a fond one. "You get used to it. I did, at least, mostly. Hated the way he was... he embarrassed me, when he was little." It's an admission that seems a little difficult for him to get out; he looks quite awkward for it. Isforaith reflexively ducks to the left as the huge-arse bronze starts /bouncing/. Holy shakin' wingspars, batman. « Sure. » It's said a bit warily. « We make a great team. » That's not sarcasm ringing in beer-drowned tones. No. It couldn't be. "You too?" Z'yi's suddenly focusing his gaze onto K'del with an intensity not there previously. The big man clears his throat with a half-cough, and halfway explains, "I just-- I know what you mean. About... being embarassed. Seems like anytime anyone wants to be serious, or something /needs to go right/.... there he is." A hopeless little gesture towards the blue, who is, even now, planning a snow-fall attack. (On Cadejoth.) It's a bit much, isn't it? The bouncing. Cadejoth doesn't seem to notice, let alone /care/, and his tail sends up more snow all of its own accord. It just doesn't stay /still/. « Oh, come on, Isforaith. It's fun. Don't be-- » Whatever. Not that it sounds like Cadejoth really cares. K'del gives Z'yi a bland smile, nodding reluctantly. "Me, too. Cadejoth was..." Breath. Hesitant pause. "Not what I anticipated. At all. Really played with my head a bit. Made me uncomfortable. But..." He lifts a hand. Look at him. Cadejoth may have forgotten a little that Isforaith is so much smaller than he is, because snow attacks on him? Deserve them back. And he's close enough that that's some snowdrift he's sending. Raith bulldozes a mound of snow as tall as he is into Cadejoth's side. SUPRISE ATTACK. Game on! Z'yi shakes his head in the background. Oy. "I-- did not expect.... Raith." Isz's voice is thoughtful, low. "And all of his-- quirks." Z'yi smiles, though, as Raith is *covered* in snow, buried - literally - by the bronze's return snowdrift. « Oh, so you wanna play it like /that/, do you?! » It's war. Raith flails, trying to flounder his way out of the snowdrift. Traction. TRACTION. He needs /traction/! Flail. The snow sent in Cadejoth's direction is not enough to cover him as soundly as his does in return, but it's enough to set him very briefly off balance. Teetering, and then falling, he actually /rolls/, almost, in pure delight, covering himself in the stuff in return. « Sure do! » He agrees to the blue, delighted. « What fun! How /silly/ you look like that, Isforaith! » Like /that/ is going to help anything. "Not sure anyone ever does expect what they get. Just... Some are easier to get used to than others. I guess. /Does/ get easier, though. Cadejoth hasn't broken anything of mine since he was little, which is something. Guess when they get big, they work out some of that. Dunno. Anything in particular, you're having trouble with?" The (much) younger man looks awkward again, as if suddenly aware of the incongruity of giving advice to someone so much older, but he smiles, at least. Z'yi seems aware of the same fact, at around the same time, as he briefly smirks towards K'del, before returning his gaze to Isforaith. Raith finally manages to get a paw hard against packed snow, and levers himself right-side-up. « I don't look /silly/. » There's a brief pause. « Okay, maybe I do. But not as silly as /you/! » He rears up on his back legs, front paws battering/poofing at the flying snow that's coming his-ways as a side-effect of Cadejoth's rolling. The best defense being a good offense, don't you know. "Did he ever-- obsess over something?" Isz's voice lowers, just a tad. "Or-- someone?" « Sure you do, » begins Cadejoth, before Isforaith has time to revise his words, but it's all fond: warm and delighted and rattling. As the snow begins to fly again, he has time only for a single thought - « ! » - before he has to attempt to fight back through the cloud, whipping it up further until it's like a blizzard in its own right. Shuffling his feet, and digging his hands into his pockets, K'del hesitates before answering, avoiding looking at the weyrling again. "He had a crazy thing for Yyth - she was one of his clutchmates - for the longest time. But... not so much now. Unless you count Iovniath. Which is different." |
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