Difference between revisions of "Logs:A R'hin Style of Training Lesson"

Since the last time Lilah broke into R'hin's weyr, there's been no word from the bronzerider, and Leiventh has been equally distant and uncommunicative. That's why it's probably a surprise that the bronze's cold wind springs up abruptly, seeking out the young Fortian queen. « Your training begins here. » With it, an image -- one she's familiar with, the island Weyr, though the image he presents is dark. While it might be cold at Fort and High Reaches, at Ista it's a spring afternoon, pleasant and lingeringly warm by contrast. Leiventh is statuesque in the clearing in front of the Lucky Seven, a dark bulk that is noted only by the glimmering of his eyes; R'hin's leaning against one of the tree trunks, casual in dark slacks and a white, half unbuttoned shirt.

Lilah's is not quite as dark, but she is certainly bulkier than Leiventh as she appears in the skies above Ista Weyr. Whether they are training to be sneaky or not, she still extends herself to ask permission from the Weyr's queens, alerting those that may be nearby of her incoming presence. She is no more subtle in the way she wings down to land beside Leiventh in an almost straight line, digging talons into the ground to catch herself without slowing down in a lazy circle. « Hello, » she greets, snaking around carefully to eye the bronze even as her rider slides down from her back, scanning the area before finding R'hin. Her brows lift, a smile hinted at her lips as she starts in that direction. "Have you become allergic to shirts?" Nevermind that he has a shirt on.

The glimmer vanishes and fades, Leiventh's eyes closing shortly before the pair's landing. Whether it's coincidental that his greeting of Eliyaveith is a wordless acknowledgement of her presence, a spinning of cold, wintry High Reaches winds is too soon to tell. Certainly there's no other movement from the bronze. R'hin, by contrast, watches avidly, a dark chuckle escaping as his gaze tracks Lilah's path towards him. "What's the point of warm weather if you can't enjoy it? Speaking of," he gestures at her flight gear with a twirl of his finger, "Tuck that away somewhere safe. You won't be needing it for a while."

Eliyaveith watches Leiventh intently, all fire and heat as she observes the bronze, but she does not insist on any more acknowledgement. She watches, waiting, silent. Lilah's dark gaze flicks over R'hin in a question but she turns back to the saddle bags on Eliyaveith to tuck away flight gear after she strips it off efficiently, revealing a plain, worn grey uniform underneath. "Where are we breaking into?" she questions, assuming, as she turns back to the bronze rider.

R'hin watches, of course -- and if he's disappointed by the gold weyrling's outfit it certainly doesn't show. "Breaking into?" He scoffs, pale eyes amused, "I would no more let a babe swim out into the ocean. No, little goldrider. You need to learn to pace yourself. Sometimes -- the things that you work yourself up to slowly are that much better when you get there. Here," he stretches out a hand to bid her closer.

"The ocean has enough salt that a babe could float," Lilah counters with a hint of humor, though she steps closer at the outstretched hand. Curiosity plays in her features, in dark, wide eyes and the curve of lips as she studies R'hin. "What will we be doing, then?"

There's the faintest of snorts from R'hin, disagreement with her use of the analogy. Once she's stepped closer, he says, "Close your eyes."

Is it really any surprise that Lilah does not close her eyes? (This goldrider definitely has trust issues.) Instead, she quirks a brow upwards at R'hin, challengingly. "Why?"

"Because you wanted me to teach you," R'hin seems amused at her lack of trust, but there's also a sense of patience in his pale blue eyes, like it's inevitable she's going to give in.

It really is, though Lilah holds out for a few moments longer as her gaze narrows on R'hin for his answer. Eventually, though, her eyes slide shut, as commanded.

There's no sense of satisfaction that she can detect, at least not from the murmured, "Good," the comes shortly after she obeys. There's silence for a few beats, the slight rustling of material, and then she can feel something brushing her forehead, falling over her eyes. The material is soft, and R'hin's quick to tie the blindfold in place.

"What are you doing?" is Lilah's immediate reaction to fabric covering her eyes, fingers lifting to press at the material though she doesn't, yet, push it from her eyes.

Instead of answering the question, R'hin asks: "Does she cheat?"

"I can't cheat if I do not know the rules," Lilah counters, dryly, though her hands fall away from the material.

"Not you," R'hin's amused -- that much is obvious. "Your queen. Does she cheat?"

"She doesn't know the rules either," Lilah points out, a hint of a smile at her lips. But, she adds more seriously, "She doesn't like the idea of cheating, or lying, or anything of that nature."

The faint noise suggests R'hin's not altogether happy with that response, and there's a slight pressure of a hand touching her shoulder, drifting down into the small of her back, seeking to guide her. "Walk with me a little way." The footing is relatively even underfoot, and he seems to be taking care to guide her safely. Then, curiously, "Not like you?"

"No, not like me," replies Lilah quietly, soft in admission as she allows herself to be guided by that unseen hand. She steps carefully, not quite gracefully but she doesn't slip or place her feet wrong. "She doesn't understand the difference of what needs to be done."

"Mm," the bronzerider's basso tone agrees with that, adding, "Dragons are pure." He sounds admiring, envious almost. R'hin steps slow, and he puts a hand on Lilah's shoulder for a moment to steady her as they stop. "Here will do. Hold up your hands, palms up." His hands brush against hers to guide them together.

Lilah's body is compliant enough with those commands, even as stubborn and strong-willed as the goldrider is. She stills, stops, and her hands come up to settle with her palms upwards against the warmth of his. "It is easy enough to do, when your memory only allows for a sevenday at most," she answers dismissively. "When you have to consider the past and the future--. It is much more complicated than the simplicity of forgetting."

Where she is dismissive, R'hin is anything but, as his hands fall away from hers. "Sometimes," he says, slowly, "They are there to remind us that the weight of the past is less important than the moment. Not all the time, but enough." There's silence, the almost inaudible whisper of him moving, then finally, she feels something brushing against, and eventually resting, in her hands. It's waxy and flexible, the shape obvious enough to mark it as a leaf frond. "Tell me what you feel," the bronzerider requests.

Lilah does not identify it immediately; whether she can't is unlikely, given that she takes the time to make all observations given to her. Her nail digs into the leaf, scorching a line into it and releasing its scent that she brings up to her nose. After a moment of touch and sight, and the sound her fingers make against it, she identifies, "It's a leaf." That much, at least, is obvious.

"You didn't answer the question I asked." R'hin expects more, clearly.

"A leaf," Lilah replies dryly, but her lips curve in a hint of a smile. She continues, more specifically, "It has a wax to it, but underneath it contains liquid, probably the juice of the leaf. It's flexible, but it doesn't break, so it isn't dry, which means it is freshly plucked. It is curved, large--."

"Better," R'hin finally says, satisfied. He pulls the leaf from her grip, and moments later she feels something different in its place: it's warm, granulated -- dirt or sand, but more likely the latter given their location. "Next," said expectantly.

Lilah rubs the sand between her fingers in a gesture that likely loses some of it, lifting it again to smell the scent of the ocean on it. "It is fine grains of sand, worn by water. It is smooth and warm. You couldn't grow anything in this," she answers. "But, it'd likely be good for a hatching."

"Cheating," comes the gruff warning from R'hin, after she lifts the sand to her nose. "You can't smell a lock. Another." He turns her hands a little to let the rest of the sand go free. This third one is different: it's thin and long, the edges making it's obvious it's man made.

This takes Lilah longer to identify, her thumb tracing the edges as she carefully feels for any identifying shape of the object in her hands, anything that might give its identity away. "Locks have a smell to them," she disagrees wryly. "Not anything that would help you pick them, but they smell of metal and oil. It isn't exactly cheating." And she does lift the the thing in her hands to her nose, regardless of the warning before.

There's a cluck of disapproval, though R'hin doesn't interfere. The very end of the object curves upwards and tapers off to a point; the smell is of metal and oil -- perhaps because she just mentioned it?

"Is it a pick?" Lilah questions, after she feels that curve. Though, after the one warning, she doesn't need to be reminded to answer as well: "It is pointed, curved. Man-made, and smithed."

A brief pause, the sound of a breath taken in, and released a moment later. "Good," R'hin says, before that, too, is removed. A slight hint of movement precedes the touch of fingers gently pressing against her temple, lifting that blindfold away. He's lead her a short distance into the jungle canopy: it's relatively dark, though there's the dim glow of the clearing to light their way back. "Picking a lock is about focusing on your senses, on the sensations and feedback your fingers give you. Brute strength will fail; a gentle touch will win." With a glint of amused eyes, he tucks that blindfold into a pocket, then gestures towards the light. "Shall we?"

Even as R'hin removes that blindfold, Lilah's lips curve into a smooth smile at that 'Good'. She replies, easily, "I think you'll find that I am used to relying on sensation and the feedback from my fingers. I have already been trained in that, if only in an entirely different way." She studies R'hin only for a moment, as her eyes adjust to the new lighting after the removal of the blindfold, before she finally turns towards the light at his gesture, moving in that direction in agreement rather than replying.

"Trained?" is all R'hin asks, voice laced with curiosity, even taking a quick glance at her. It doesn't take them long to reach the clearing where their dragons are waiting, though the bronzerider keeps walking as if he intends to head past.

"Is that one of your questions?" counters Lilah rather than answering, warm humor flirting on the edges of her words as she slides a look sideways towards the bronze rider. She slows as she gets to Eliyaveith, as if expecting this to be the destination, only to follow after R"him as he seems to continue.

"Of course not. You mentioned it -- or was that to be a tease?" R'hin crosses the clearing, pausing briefly to examine her again -- head to toe, in that way an interested man might well do. With a purse of lips, he steps closer, one hand settling all-too-comfortably into the curve of her back. He leads them through the wide open doors of the Lucky Seven. The polished, shining bar dominates the back wall, a staircase to the left and an archway leading to a gaming den. Along that wall, too, are rooms for rent, and it's towards one of those he appears to be steering them.

Lilah isn't familiar with this establishment, but she isn't unfamiliar with gaming halls in general; after all, that is where her uniform comes from, even if it may not be recognized outside of Fort Weyr. The sounds of dice and gambling are easily recognizable, even if the rooms that R'hin leads them to are not. Still, she counters almost flirting, "I think we've established that I am not the tease, here."

"Mmhmm," the response is good-natured and amused, R'hin's intentions perhaps becoming more obvious as they step into the short hallway. There, a woman tells them the price for the rooms -- by the hour. R'hin passes her some coins, leaning in to murmur something, gesturing towards Lilah. The older woman looks her up and down, and with a nod, leads the way down the corridor. Pale eyes glittering, the bronzerider seeks to guide the Fortian onwards.

Lilah is careful to wait until she's out of earshot of the woman they paid before she murmurs a questioning, "Why are we paying, if the entire point of this exercise is to learn how to pick locks?" If there is a hint of color following the murmur and gesture, well--. The goldrider doesn't attempt to dwell on it, or the assumption that may have been made.

"You really need to learn to slow down and enjoy things," R'hin murmurs in her ear, his amused voice warm. Ahead of them, the woman unlocks a door, and leads the way in. Inside, there are racks of clothes, most of the revealing, skimpy, or otherwise extremely flattering to the female form. Clearly this is a place the local employees dress in. With an approving nod to the woman as she departs, the Reachian bronzerider looks expectantly at Lilah.

"Oh, do I," isn't quiet a question as Lilah exhales it at R'hin's murmurs, though her lips can't help the slight curve that catches at the corners. Her dark gaze slides over the racks of clothing, but her attention returns weighted to the bronzerider with the curve of a brow upwards. Apparently, if he's expecting something, he is going to have to spell it out.

R'hin strides to the nearest rack, reaching out to finger a dark green dress. "You need to learn to dress the part -- to blend in. Choose one that strikes your fancy," he gestures expansively, as if it's his gift to her. "You want people to look at you, not where you are looking tonight."

"And how do you get people to look at you?" Lilah counters challengingly. But, if R'hin doesn't avert his gaze, he is treated to the goldrider catching fingers against the hem of her shirt and stripping it off without further ado, draping it on the nearest empty spot before she reaches for the ties of her trousers to kick those off as well, efficiently. And despite the invitation to choose whichever she likes, she reaches for that dark green dress that R'hin indicated, which would set off red-gold hair and pale skin almost perfectly.

There's a pause, and those considering, pale eyes of R'hin's are definitely not looking away as Lilah strips. "I don't believe you require much assistance in that area," he finally says. A slight twitch of lips -- amused, or perhaps merely pleased she's chosen the one he'd casually indicated.

"You never answered how you manage it, though. Without dressing like--." Lilah doesn't finish her sentence, but perhaps this is just because she has caught her reflection in the mirror as she smoothes the dark green frabic over hips, settling it and twitching it until it clings perfectly to soft curves. She drags fingers through her hair, making sure that it shines brightly against the color of the dress before she turns fully back to the bronzerider. And with a hint of seeking approval, buried so deep that it may seem casually challenging, she questions, "Happy now?"

She'll catch something else in the mirror too: R'hin standing close behind her, watching avidly. "It will do," he murmurs, the praise casual in keeping with her tone, even if the upward curve of lips suggests more. "How I manage it? I don't need to." He's chuckling briefly, while pale eyes flicker up and down her form rather pointedly, before he steps closer. "Now, we're ready." His hand stretches to settle in the curve of her back again, intending to lead her back out.

There is a weight to the way Lilah's gaze meets R'hin's in the mirror, for all that his flickers over her form. She doesn't seem to mind, but she does seem to study him in turn. "Ready for what?" is all that she questions, as she sways into that touch, allowing him to lead the way.

"A lock is often the least of one's problems. Before you felt, now you need to see." R'hin's voice is a hushed murmur, gone silent as they pass the woman at the entrance to the corridor. She, too, nods approvingly, and the bronzerider gives her a pleased nod as they pass by. Deliberately, he guides them into the gambling hall. She's used to such places -- there's noise and people, crowds around the tables, some involved, some observing. R'hin seems intent on leading them on a stroll around the room.

"See what?" Lilah murmurs to the bronzerider, but she certainly doesn't seem displeased at the closeness, at allowing him to guide them as she fits herself into the crook of his arm. Her attention, mostly, settles around her, though in this regard she doesn't seem to be quiet as prepared in what to be watching.

R'hin doesn't elaborate; that would be too easy. After they've done their circuit, there's a brief lingering at one of the tables that's attracted the most attention; just another of the crowd. Finally, the bronzerider leads them out, out of the hall, out into the clearing, out into the fresh, warm evening air, and towards their waiting dragons. "You have homework to do," the bronzerider says. "A comprehensive list of what you saw."

Eliyaveith has stretched out curiously towards Leiventh, but not quite yet anything else. Lilah doesn't seem to notice this where R'hin's homework has caught her attention. She answers wryly, "I will get that to you soon. And then? Will you be back in touch?" And even as she asks it, she lingers there in his space, unwilling to move away as she challenges him.

"Perhaps." R'hin is, after all, the tease, and he chuckles darkly. "It depends how well you do. I'll watch until you're gone -- in case you cheat." Leiventh seems unaware of Eliyaveith's advances: he is the stoic rock, unmoved and distant.

"I'm not sure I could cheat, at this point," counters Lilah with the curve of a brow upwards, but the goldrider turns away after a moment to retrieve her riding gear from where she stored it earlier. It has been long enough that she has learned to don the necessary gear efficiently, and it doesn't take the whirling all that long until she is climbing onto the large gold's back. If she casts a look towards R'hin, it is lost as Eliyaveith finally stirs to life, launching herself into the air. She climbs straight towards the skies, and it is not much longer until she disappears Between.