Difference between revisions of "Logs:When to Hold 'Em"

With members of the Minecraft safely delivered back to the Crom Hold area, two of High Reaches' riders, so recently wingmates, find themselves with a free evening away from the distractions of the Weyr. While the rain seems to have slacked off finally, the darkening sky is still in various shades of gloomy grey, but D'kan watches those skies nonetheless while out in the courtyard, Kazavoth stretches his wings, post-flight. He's been slowly tugging off slightly soggy gloves, adding them to the rest of the damp riding gear accumulating inside his handy helmet. "Not quite up for jumping right back home," he announces, looking around for Telavi. "Want to sit for a bit? It's just nice to have a change of scenery."

"If the sitting is indoors," Telavi qualifies from by Solith's shoulder, eyeing those skies with disfavor. She's kept her helmet on, its shallow brim's shadow further greying out her features. "This one has a 'sit around and thaw' area, doesn't it? I remember for last time, it surprised me because it's not like this place is one of the really large holds," except most of that is said on the move, after the beckon that accompanies her purposeful walk to the portico. Double doors, their metal pitted with age but kept polished, guard the entrance above the first of several thick mats. Solith doesn't seem to mind the damp air, at least yet, going up on her haunches to peek in one of the third-story windows that had been left unshuttered.

Kazavoth, intrigued by Solith's peeking, moves over to add his own brown head to her green, his own body hunched slightly, due to the difference in sizes. D'kan's only response to their actions is to smirk slightly before he moves to follow Telavi inside. "Never been inside here before," he shares, helmet dangling from one hand while he starts to undo the buttons of his jacket. "Been inside the main Hold, though." Because this is somehow critical information. The last button is dealt with, followed by pulling of the material away slightly. "Man, I am so sick of this rain," D'kan mutters darkly, nodding to a couple Miner journeyman on their way outside. "I'm up to four sets of riding gear now, just to keep up with all the drills. Do you guys drill a lot?"

The damp, muddy surroundings are washed away with an ethereal sweep of thought, replaced by piqued curiosity that swirls along the edges, slowly reaching toward the center of the link. « Is there someone there? » he asks, voice hushed, as if any inhabitants might be able to hear him. Then again, knowing Kaz, maybe they could. (To Solith from Kazavoth)

Telavi glances this way and that as she wipes her boots, already removing her own helmet to expose braids as tidy as they'd ever been in weyrlinghood-- only now she doesn't immediately replace it with a cap instead. She hasn't looked back at their dragons, only ahead, nodding him down the tiled corridor. "Four. Impressive. But no," this last said as she finally does glance back but at him this time, right before she passes past a tapestry and into a warmer cavern, "I'm still in Cirrus." It would make for a more dramatic exit note, perhaps, if she didn't hold the tapestry so that it doesn't fall in his face before proceeding just as abruptly towards the hearth that's there. "Anything growing between your toes yet?"

She answers him back just as intangibly, a freshness even before he's swept that dankness away. « I think so. » Quick to peek, she's not slow to share the view, the gaps between two dragons' heads possibly even allowing more light within that just one. The sound carries too, or would have done if the girl in that small chamber hadn't seen Solith already and come to a stop. Maybe all of ten or eleven, she has a small three-stringed instrument across her lap and a crooked-tooth smile on her lips, the latter starting to become more of a gape of disbelief. « Is she scared now? » Solith, a trifle concerned. (To Kazavoth from Solith)

After a murmur of thanks for the tapestry holding, D'kan follows Telavi toward the hearth. "Still? As if you needed more polish or something," he jokes, though it likely sounded better in his head. "As for my toes, I'd like to announce that down at the Hold, they taught us early on to keep clean, dry socks on hand. Especially on the docks. All it takes is seeing one guy lose a foot..." He trails off, leaving the story there. No need for gory details, right? He starts to arrange his gear so it's hanging over the sides of his helmet or over some chair rungs, then drapes his riding jacket over the back of the chair he eventually claims.

Consternation blends with curiosity, dark brown flecks marring an otherwise clear wash of gold and green. « I don't know, » he replies in a hush as he pushes his dark muzzle closer to the window. The change from that short statement to the next is subtle, but the projection has altered somewhat. « Hello, » he booms, child-ward, tone meant to be soothing and friendly. Oh well. (To Solith from Kazavoth)

Telavi pushes out a breath, somewhere between a sigh and a snort, and turns her head towards the brownrider with what might have been a roll of her eyes if it hadn't immediately transformed into fascination. "Lose a foot, really? Was it," she gestures vaguely in the air, "toe by toe, or all at once from the skin out, or what?" The question of those details even slows her down in taking care of her own gear, though when she borrows a chair for her own jacket, it's so she can slide it in front of the hearth and thereby steal at least a little more of its warmth. Nor does she sit right away, but instead roams about the room, taking a look at the various paintings and heavy tapestries and the like.

As he pushes forward, Solith draws her own narrow muzzle back with a flurry of breeze, but not so far back that the green can't look. The girl squeaks. "Auntie? Auntie!" Her eyes are bulging and she only saves the instrument from falling at the very last second as she turns for the hallway. If anyone wants to sink back and try to look innocent, now would be the time. (To Kazavoth from Solith)

"He let the rot set in," D'kan begins, making his own inspection of the area from his spot in the chair, "and distrusted Healers. So... all around, his own sharding fault." He leans back while stretching his own feet toward the hearth, then glances over at Telavi. "Want to try out a game or two of cards? Just got a new deck, when I was down at Fort a few days ago. I've been wanting to break it in."

« Oh dear. » It's said in a quiet rush as Kazavoth does indeed draw back to all four paws, very carefully moving away from the building with almost feline-like grace. Meant to do that. Totally. « I do believe, Solith, that now she is scared. » (To Solith from Kazavoth)

Glancing back over her shoulder, "Do you trust healers?" Telavi has to ask once she's done wrinkling her nose for that rot. "Or do you just count on socks? And sure, though I have to warn you, I'm no better at it than I was last time we talked. You'll have to..." a noise at the tapestry has her crossing over, then exchanging low words with the woman beyond before turning back in relief. "Good, they won't kick us out." But then, have they heard about the dragons yet?

That makes two of them, Solith arranging herself in the courtyard like a loaf of bread that just happens to have wings and a long neck attached. She may peek at the window they abandoned, but it's just out of the corner of one eye. « She should learn better, » Solith decides, switching just the tip of her tail back and forth. « You would not hurt her. It is only that you are big. » And loud. And... faces at the window now, the girl and an older woman who doesn't even have grey hair yet, though she might after today given how the girl's tugging at her sleeve. Only the woman's voice is audible as words beneath the girl's higher explanation, and even that's half-audible: "...don't see... look, just... be making things up," this with a tug at the girl's ear. (To Kazavoth from Solith)

At the question, D'kan frowns slightly, then shrugs one shoulder. "With Healer stuff, sure. With other stuff, no more or less than anyone else. What about you?" Though his own question ends with a minor note of distraction as he checks in, presumably, with Kazavoth. Whatever that exchange, it makes him frown again, though that is all. "I don't mind. All the more reason to play a few hands, right?" Following that brief distraction, D'kan is cheerfully eager to move on to the cards, which he removes from one of his jacket's inside pockets, which also gives him a chance to relocate the chair closer to the cozy fire before he chooses another with a handy little table nearby. Better for shuffling.

D'kan reaches along the mindlink to touch gently, as if taking Kazavoth's pulse. The presence remains, activity familiar, thought polite but inquisitive. There are no words, but the intent is clear. Just checking in. (D'kan to Kazavoth)

« I was merely trying to be friendly, » Kazavoth insists, bewilderment vying with annoyance for the girl's reaction. « You would think she had never seen one of us before! » he adds while pricks of bright orange swirl rapidly through the gold-tinted green of his eyes. « Or heard! Maybe if I sang to her, » he adds, trailing off to ponder. « They are silly, » the brown concludes in a quiet, dark voice. « This place is silly. Do they not know who we are? » (To Solith from Kazavoth)

Kazavoth allows and even welcomes the intrusion, and while he is not exactly hiding anything from D'kan, there is surely no need to share images of the panicked girl, right? Or... what preceded that panic? « D'kan, » Kaz drawls in his light, almost scratchy tenor. « It is very muddy out here. No weyrs. No couches. How do they stand it? » (Kazavoth to D'kan)

While D'kan isn't nearly the natural at the mindlink that his 'mate is, he is still able to express his love-tinted amusement while the mental touch grows briefly warm. Before he retreats, there is an unspoken promise to visit somewhere warm and dry next time. Then his half of the link goes quiet and still. (D'kan to Kazavoth)

Tela waits until she's settled into the second chair at that table to answer, agreeing, "For Healer things. It's just some of them can be such know-it-alls about everything else too," but she says it lightly, a quirk to her mouth. More important is getting a better look at the cards, seeing what's different. "Do yours have any interesting faces painted on them? What made you pick that particular deck, do you like the design or was it cheap or...?" There's no checking in with Solith, not visibly anyway, her attention staying on the cards and what he does with them.

Of course he was! Solith doesn't question that one bit. « I think, » she decides all at once, « she would rather be right than not-scared, or not-spooked, or whatever it is. Of course they do not know who we are, we have not told them. Let me try. » She rarely if ever seems to consciously display herself, but now the green dragon curls her neck, tilting her head just so towards the window with those big bright eyes that just happen to be whirling faster under the strength of Kazavoth's influence. Hers is a soft, unassuming warble, close to a croon, but a dragon's all the same. (To Kazavoth from Solith)

"True enough," D'kan admits, regarding healers, "though some of them at least have kind of earned the right. Sort of. Can't stand the 'expert on everything under the sun' types, though. I'm pretty sure misinformation should fall somewhere under their 'do no harm' credo." He removes the new cards from their small, wooden carrying case, which is slipped back into the jacket. Before he starts shuffling them, he starts separating the suits in case Telavi wants a closer look. "Commissioned this deck," he explains. There's a small note of pride in his voice, but it's subtle. "It's our Holds. The four suits are High Reaches, Tillek, Crom and Nabol. They... didn't know quite what to do with Tillek, I think, so the Holder and Heir are kind of vague. But the Lady is totally Edeline. And--" He pauses, shifting to High Reaches' cards, "That's totally Devaki and family. See how the Heir is still just a kid?" Yeah, he might just get into this stuff a little bit.

« Ooooh, » is at first Kazavoth's only reply, kept quiet so as not to intrude upon the croon. Moments later, he follows with, « Very nice, Solith! » while sitting back on his haunches to stare at the window once more. Eagerness thrums slightly, but for once, he remains otherwise silent, just watching and listening. And perhaps waiting to find out what happens next. (To Solith from Kazavoth)

'Sort of' gets a quick, bright smile from Telavi, followed by, "It should. But has one really ever given you wrong advice? A healer, if no one else," but it's a brief question, easy to overlook for the deck. The deck. "What a predicament," she says, looking away from the deck only to check her fingertips and then finally rub them against her trousers, just in case, up high where they'd been protected by her jacket. "But it's like saving a place in time, isn't it? Because later it will be different... and the kid, too, the kid will grow up," and she glances up at him, checking to see whether it's all right to touch. Even though he'd suggested some rounds, earlier. "What did you have them do with the Weyrwomen?"

His eagerness, his praise, they turn Solith's eyes bluer and even out what could have been an erratic whirl, though they're just as quick as before. Hesitantly, the girl waves. The auntie waves. And then... then, the shutters slam. (To Kazavoth from Solith)

"Yeah, exactly!" D'kan replies, looking pretty pleased. "It's okay, a piece of history. And Turns from now, if the deck is still around, it'd be easy to show who all held those seats, and kind of what they looked like, and... well." His smile goes both crooked and sheepish. "I guess I just enjoy it. Which is the point, so please, pick up the cards," he insists, holding the deck toward Telavi. "The Weyrwomen are in another deck. Sometimes the cards are really specific, but these are just painted differently. And they're just a senior apprentice's work, so... don't feel like they're totally precious or anything. Just cards." He leans back, dark eyes twinkling as he tries and fails to hide a crooked grin. "Guess I could have requested the kid include jokers. But it really wouldn't have been too tasteful to use riders for that. Or anyone, really. No idea who he did use for the jokers. Don't usually play with them, anyway."

Kazavoth lets out a quick, hearty snort as those shutters close. He settles back down to all four paws, then hunkers down into a brown bread loaf similar to Solith's prior green. « As if they have any room to criticize, » the brown rumbles while inky swirls darken his half of the mindlink. « Weak minded and... and... » The ink fades to a grey wash as he searches for just the right insult. « And tiny. » Because size matters. (To Solith from Kazavoth)

Watching D'kan, Telavi listens with clear fascination and more than one nod, too, but it's how his smile changes that makes her dimples show... right before she steals that deck right up. She riffles gladly through them, teasing, "So we can play with a meatroll in one hand and a... well, a hand in the other?" More seriously and a little more slowly, even as she pauses to compare a pair of cards, "It makes me wonder, well, maybe not the first time, how much people really did look like the pictures that got made of them. At least the ones that go on walls, they're larger so there's space, but here, someone has to be clever to make the resemblance show when there's not much room. What's your other deck like? Other than having Weyrwomen, I mean."

Solith settles back, more or less, but there goes her tail again, and more like a twitch this time. « And small is bad. » The breeze, just now, may not have darkened exactly but, much like the grey wash, it's none too fresh. (To Kazavoth from Solith)

"Pretty generic," D'kan answers, settling back comfortably while Telavi inspects the cards. "I bought the first deck off a Trader. The stock their on is good, but the painting is... only serviceable. I wanted something nicer." His eyes go vague again, but only briefly. Checking in with Kazavoth tends to be a fairly regular thing, quickly done. "Some of the really good ones are just about spot on. As good as a portrait. Depends on the Harper, though. Some just have the knack. I think the guy who made these might head that direction."

« Small is not bad, » Kazavoth insists, clarifying, attempting to cut through the dark and dank. « Tiny. Like their heads. And the tiny brains they must hold. What I leave Between is bigger than their tiny brains. » Ever elegant. « And children seem to have the tiniest brains of all. Which is why I chose D'kan. He was not a child. » (To Solith from Kazavoth)

"Ahh." Telavi flexes a card, sees how comfortably it bends. "And then if he does, you'll have 'known him when'... These will soften up, won't they? Or get more bendy, anyway." She drops her voice considerably to wonder, "I wonder how much longer Lord Ustelan will be about." And now Tela's corrupting the poor deck, removing the requisite cards so that the Ustelan card can say in a scratchy voice, "'Hmm, I wonder which heir I should pick!'" while the heir cards borrowed from the various suits respond, "'Me, me, no me! Agh, backstab! How could you?!'"

With his insistence, things lighten up somewhat, at least on Solith's part. Somewhat. « Oh, » she says. « Better, » and wraps her wings about her in a way that makes her not quite so small, not that she's tiny precisely, except by comparison. Still, « The girl was not much tinier. » (To Kazavoth from Solith)

D'kan's expression remains somewhat neutral as Telavi begins role-playing with the various cards, though his round cheeks get a little rounder, and his dark eyes get a little more twinkly. "Well, you don't want them too soft. They'll fray," he replies while reclaiming the ones that are not currently vying for Ustelan's knot. The deck is further corrupted as he begins to shuffle them from one hand to the other. "You do want them to get nicely polished, though, so they don't stick. Only way to do that is to play." He goes quiet for a few seconds, the only sounds the ones from the cards. "I don't know which I prefer. The odd maneuvering that is Hold politics, or... the Weyr brand. Though it sounds like 'Reaches' situation isn't exactly standard fare."

Kazavoth's skepticism about the size of that frightened girl is evident both in posture and mindvoice, though he doesn't not otherwise vocalize his opinion. He shifts somewhat, his own wings held tightly against his body, tail curled around dark, speckled haunches. « Why did you choose your rider? » he asks, switching to a thread from the previous thoughts. « Do you recall? It is hard to think about old things sometimes, is it not? » (To Solith from Kazavoth)

"'Polished.' Does that involve skin oils? Because I never thought of cards quite that way before." When Telavi offers the cards back to D'kan, she does so with Ustelan still walking tall and proud on two of his corners, followed by his entourage of would-be heirs. "Hold or Weyr?" she asks of High Reaches, somewhat wry. "Do you know if you'd prefer a Crafthall's? They must have maneuvering of their own. And is it helpful to know what we'd rather have, if what we have, well, is what we have?" Something about her timbre suggests that she'd have at least half an answer already, yet hasn't quite committed.

It meets with a hint of clearer air wafting by, ever so transparently pleased-- such skepticism, but also such restraint!-- at least until it's touched with a hint of turbulence. Choice? Choosing? Remembering? « She has always been my rider, » Solith says finally, hesitantly. (To Kazavoth from Solith)

D'kan's answer to Hold or Weyr is to offer a quiet, dry laugh. Likely answer enough, really. "No, I've never understood crafts." He takes the strangler cards and shuffles them into the deck, then begins the more thorough motions, far longer than he normally would, owing to the new deck. He's quiet a little longer, frowning, then his hands pause. "I like the... well, the usual stability of the Hold way. But I like that in the Weyrs, if something's messed up, it's not forever." There are a few more seconds of silent thought, then he starts dealing them each five cards.

The turbulence is absorbed like a breath, then expelled just as gently. Just testing the air. « That is true, » Kazavoth replies quietly after a brief silence, followed by a longer one. After a time, he lowers his head to the damp ground, eyes fixed on the doors their riders disappeared through, though he is likely fueled more by a feeling than by memory of those doors. (To Solith from Kazavoth)

Telavi, no fount of wisdom where crafts are concerned, for once doesn't opine anyway. She's rested her arms on the edge of the table, crossed but loosely so, the better to observe D'kan's hands and how they shuffle than his actual expression. "We hope it's not forever, anyway. Or is that too dour? At least it shouldn't be forever in the same way..." But her own voice is quiet, with that and even more so beyond that, and she waits just long enough for the dealer to touch his cards before taking her own

The air's there to be tested: breathe in, breathe out, it's just how it goes. Solith's silent even as the larger dragon is, though not irrepressibly, with eventually the slightest waft of wordless question. He watches. Why? Also: isn't the ground wet? (To Kazavoth from Solith)

"I think we can be forgiven having a few darker thoughts lately," D'kan says in a low voice, though his gaze is on his cards as he picks them up. "But there's hope, too." He sets aside a couple cards, but waits for Telavi before replacing his two discards. From there, the game progresses, perhaps with both players keeping their cards face-up on the table, at least toward the beginning, but further discussion, and any wins or losses, will be held to those four walls.

Kazavoth's own wordless answer is a solid Because, though it is tinged with sleepiness. After all, it's been a long day. As for the wet ground, a haze of answering thought drifts along the link. It will wash off. There will be more rain. There is always more rain. (To Solith from Kazavoth)