Difference between revisions of "Logs:Civility and Punching People"

Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr

Ringed by rough granite walls to all sides but one, this end of the huge bowl narrows from the even broader plain to the west, continuing the ever so slight downward slope toward the blue and green of the Weyr's lake and surrounding foliage. More open to sun and wind than the western bowl, but less frequented when there aren't weyrlings in residence, the bowl's grassy tufts keep the topsoil in place and thicken into a bloodstained meadow within the feeding pens that adjoin the lake.

At the base of the surrounding cliffs lie entrances to several caverns, including the dragon infirmary and the weyrling barracks: the former to the northwest near where the spires begin, the latter opposite to the southwest. Both archways are large and dark enough for any dragon to pass through, but it's the infirmary's that is haunted by faint smells of redwort and numbweed, as though over generations they have seeped into the very stone. To the southeast, between the weyrling area and the lake, there are a handful of structures built into the floor of the bowl, standing out amidst otherwise an empty space.

Warm sunshine and cloudless skies make for a beautiful day and pleasantly warm evening. A breeze tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air.

It's probably happenstance that G'laer and Teisyth are finishing drills with Alpine when the weyrlings are released from lessons. G'laer busies himself checking straps and stripping down gear for a few minutes, stowing unneeded items in the light bags on the green's riding straps. Then he's starting a series of stretches to help with stiffness after the aerial maneuvering.

The thing about getting older is that lessons are a lot more tiring. Even if the strength of Savroveth's wings have been steadily building over the last month, he's still not quite as perky afterwards as he is before. Today, he's walking very slowly with his wings unfurled and dragging dramatically over the ground as though holding them against his body would be too much effort. Jadzia is glaring at him as she walks near his tail, kicking it 'encouragingly' when it sways back in her direction with his steps. "Move your ass, Sav. Someone's gonna step on your sharding wings and then you'll never get to fly." Not even that works. If she's noticed G'laer, though, she's totally acting like she hasn't.

Teisyth is concerned! « Savroveth, are you alright? » She turns and moves over to the not-as-little-anymore droopy brown. G'laer's eyes follow her and stop. He grunts as he finishes a stretch and follows without obvious reluctance. "Jadzia."

« I'm so tired. I just want to lay down. Right here. » Savroveth doesn't, though. Jadzia must be listening in because she adds a, "Don't you dare." And since, for now, he's not daring, it's with a sigh that she acknowledges the greenrider's existence, turning her braided head toward him briefly as she returns, "G'laer."

« Oh, you poor thing. » Teisyth hovers, all but literally. « Y'ought to lay down and rest then, » even if Jadzia apparently doesn't want him to. "You kept your hair." G'laer observes. "Training going well?" Perhaps its simply politeness that makes him ask, or maybe he really wants to know since he's not their teacher and all anymore.

There's an abrupt change in Savroveth's demeanor, wings snapping up against his body. He clearly has no lack of energy in the way he sort of hops his weight into all four of his paws and turns his full attention on Teisyth with a puff of cigar smoke to make it all totally legit. « I know what we can do! Let's go swimming! It'll be awesome! » Jadzia's attention shifts back toward the brown, frowning, but at least this idea doesn't make her yell at him. That's always good, right? "It's fine. Easier than I expected sometimes. And harder than I expected sometimes." She'll just cover all of her bases, evidently. She doesn't comment on the fact that he quit, either.

Teisyth is too excited by the prospect of swimming to notice that Savroveth was terribly, terribly tired moments ago. His enthusiasm is enough to spike hers to greater magnitudes. « Race ya! » And she's off! Nevermind that she's still a bit bigger than him and gliding is probably cheating. She's up and away before G'laer can do more than turn after her, his bellowed reminder of, "Your straps!" lest she dive on in with them on is likely list in her windy wake. "Wherry shit." He swears before turning back to the weyrling rider, looking unthrilled. At least he doesn't seem to be blaming her for the potential loss of (yet another) set of riding straps.

And they're off! Savroveth is, well, slower than Teisyth. By quite a lot. But he doesn't seem to mind because he can flap his wings and race after her anyway. And that's the fun part! That and splashing into the water. Jadzia, even if she's not being blamed, mumbles a quiet, "Sorry. He gets excited." There's only a brief pause before she sighs and asks, "How're you doing?" Now that he's not dealing with them, presumably.

G'laer actually reaches a hand back and scrubs the back of his neck with it, oddly maybe a little embarrassed. "So does she." It comes with a grunt as the hand drops away. He glances after the dragons. "I've been better." It's candid. He looks back to her. "Finding myself sometimes wishing Crom Guard accepted exceptionally silly dragons." Or any dragons at all. Then he gestures toward the lake, "Walk you to the water?" It's almost a chivalrous offer. Maybe it is, even!

Mention of the Crom guard makes Jadzia roll her eyes and snort a sound that isn't particularly ladylike. Not that much about her is. "I bet there are people that wished they'd take you back, too." She doesn't comment on whether or not she's one of said people, but she's smiling now that she's said it so that probably means something. "Sure. Walk me to the water."

"I'm sure," G'laer readily agrees. "It might be better for all of us, but that then Lord Aughan would have his own personal dragonrider. And that's the sort of thing where one thing leads to another, and before you know it there's a dragon war on our hands." He's exaggerating, right? But then, is G'laer a man given to exaggeration. His arms stay ready at his side like always, but one might imagine there's a slightly more relaxed quality to his build as he walks beside the weyrling. "Is Savroveth enjoying flying?" The dragons seem a safe enough topic, right?

"Right," is all Jadzia offers for his first comments. Surely she's familiar with his exaggerations. Familiar enough not to encourage him further down that road. Even him saying her dragon's name is enough for her eyes to track toward the brown splashing through the water. "More than anything," she admits. "I was worried he'd suck at it." But so far so good, evidently.

"Good." G'laer says of Savroveth, and then abruptly, "Are you getting your fill of punching people?" And presumably the like. "I'd like to ask your help."

That's kind of a weird question. The way Jadzia looks at G'laer suggests she thinks as much, too. But, hey, it makes her kind of curious. "Since when do you need anyone's help punching people?"

"Since I agreed to train someone." The greenrider answers simply. "I can't teach as effectively if I'm doing the striking. And she could learn from you. You were, as I recall, talented in hand to hand combatives." Which probably explains why Jadzia can get drunk and offer to prostitute herself without getting into serious trouble, as G'laer once witnessed.

"She," repeats Jadzia, voice possibly too neutral to be entirely neutral. But she moves on before there's too much time to think about it. "What do I get out of it?" Never mind that getting to punch some other chick might be enough. Especially one involved, to some extent, with G'laer.

"Practice. Do you want more than that?" G'laer questions, tilting his head just slightly.

"Maybe," says the brownrider without hesitation. She studies him for a moment before saying, "I want to be able to ask you for something that you'll actually consider before refusing at some point." See? Jadzia is a totally reasonable woman.

"Alright." G'laer's reasonable too, see? But not a woman.

Jadzia looks at him for another moment, then holds out a hand so they can shake on it. At least she's not completely avoiding touching him. "When do we start?" And then, "Sav wants to know if he can watch."

He turns and takes the hand, no hesitation. Totally reasonable. "Soon. I'm given to understand she's had some training from Alida, but Pars training and Crom's..." Does G'laer need to tell her? Surely Jadzia remembers the jokes from the barracks, one service always ragging on another. "It should be interesting, at any rate." He glances toward the brown. "How will he take it if she lands a blow? Or if I do?" Since presumably Jadzia gets to demonstrate techniques with him for the less knowledgeable pupil.

Jadzia remembers plenty from the barracks, but it only makes her roll her eyes despite the flicker of an amused grin. "Definitely interesting," she allows. "I think he'll be fine. He knows it's practice. So unless you want to hit me now and see what happens..." Her voice trails off, likely assuming he's not going to take her up on that. For one, she probably wouldn't have offered if she figured he might. "Let's just try not to break my nose again. I don't get paid as much if my face is all fucked up." Maybe she's joking.

"I'll bring gear." G'laer volunteers, but he does not promise no broken parts. Although, given that she's a weyrling and it's unlikely that he's asked her teacher to borrow her. "I suspect none of us want injuries that would raise too many eyebrows. She apparently doesn't want it known that she's learning." The why he either doesn't volunteer or doesn't know. He looks to Savroveth. "He may watch. Teisyth will sit with him." In case he needs minding. Or maybe just so they can be excited about it together.

"No? I always thought you kind of liked raising eyebrows. Just so you could ignore them." Jadzia gives the greenrider a look before her gaze is drawn toward the brown. "Careful that they don't get too friendly. He's way more charismatic than I am." Her brief smile suggests she's teasing more than actually warning. "Let us know when and where. I'll be there." But for now she's done with this weird being civil to each other thing and she turns back the way she'd come, leaving Savroveth to play with Teisyth.

Careful they don't get too friendly. G'laer could say so many things to that. But he doesn't, because he's G'laer. Alas. So there's simply a nod for the latter and then he's settling in on the shore to watch the dragons. Maybe it's a kind of therapy because his shoulders seem to relax just a touch. Maybe he's just tapping in to the current of good feelings Teisyth brings so close to his mind so often; Teisyth, the natural high!