Difference between revisions of "Logs:Real Friends"

Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr

The rest of the bowl may be barren, grass barely surviving at best, but here by the lake, it's brilliantly green in the warmer months: thickening and thriving in the silty, boulder-dotted soil just before it transitions to soft sand and thence to the cool, clear water itself.

A large freshwater lake fed by a low waterfall, it not only provides warm-weather bathing space for humans and dragons, but has one end fenced off as a watering hole for the livestock in the feeding grounds. The water there is often muddier than the rest of the clear lake, whose shallows drop off abruptly several yards out into deep water, and whose edge undulates against the coarse-hewn bowl wall: here close enough to just be bramble-covered rocks, there far enough away that a narrow land bridge divides the main lake from a smallish pond. Between are several rocky outcroppings that form excellent makeshift diving points, though only one -- across the bridge -- has a set of narrow, slippery, quite possibly tempting stairs.

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.

Warmer weather is upon the Weyr, and with it, weyrfolk are starting to enjoy new activities. It is late in the afternoon, early evening, and though the sun does still sit in the sky, its orange cast suggests it will soon be heading towards the horizon. Weyrling duties for the day have passed, so a few of them are busy making a ruckus in the lake, along with some of their dragonless friends. They dive and cannonball off the rocks, splashing anyone within a certain radius; they're making quite a bit of noise too. Two dragons are sunbathing on the sandy shore, oblivious - or ignoring - to their humans' shenanigans. V'ros laughs as one of the boys, a brute from Keroon, lands face-first in the water. "Nice!" They take turns jumping and attempting daring, but stupid, acrobatics. If only Quinlys could see them now.

Their activities haven't gone unnoticed. Indeed, Quinlys' spies are everywhere (probably), but Lycinea isn't one of them (probably), though she has stopped in her wading progress, patched leggings rolled up and an unnecessary hand on the plum colored skirt (with it's faded pink patchings). Blue-green eyes follow V'ros in particular, and then drift to the dragons.

Horse play continues, until it escalates to a full-fledged wrestling match in the water. It's during this scene that V'ros lets his eyes wander - to the beach goers and the sky fliers, and eventually, they fall to Lycinea. He gives his companions a fleeting look, but then he's moving sluggishly through the water, towards the kitchen aide. "Hey," comes his greeting, a bit shyly, and of course, awkwardly.

Lycinea stops watching V'ros when he starts making his way over, as though she hadn't. You know, so she can clumsily look up and attempt to feign surprise by the time he arrives. The cast on her arm is wrapped in an oilskin and that arm is tucked against her chest. This likely explains why she's only wading and not enjoying the water the way so many other young people are. "Hey," her greeting is a little uncertain as she looks at him with equal amounts of uncertainty and concern. Then the awkward silence is awkward.

V'ros moves more sluggish the closer he gets to the shallows, dredging up the sand and silt on the bottom of the lake. He'll stop a distance from her, crossing his arms over bare chest; his eyes find the cast, chagrin tugging down his mouth. "Uh, how.. how's things?" It's an attempt at normalcy - he's trying to socialize in the given way, but it's obvious he's no good at it.

"You're really bad at casual." Lya observes with a slight pinching of her lips. Though she adds a moment later, "But I am too. So let's just... not." She stretches out her toe and taps on something under the water, "Would you hand me that stone?" It's a smooth oval thing, small as a medium sized button. She glances over at Zmeyth and then looks back to V'ros. "Am I still nobody?"

V'ros opens his mouth like he's about to argue, but quickly closes it: she's right, they're bad at this. He looks down at the rock, wary; still, he reaches down and grabs it, bringing it up to the surface. "You're going to hit me with it?" he asks, still wary, as yet unwilling to hand the offending object over. As for nobody-- "I thought you wanted to be friends." While he doesn't look amused, his tone conveys the tiniest bit of humor; then again, it could be an illusion.

Pfft. "Please. If I was going to hit you with a rock, I'd have asked you to pick up a bigger rock." Lya hold her hand out for it expectantly. But then he says that and the blonde's eyes narrow; maybe she will hit him with it after all. "I was high as a kite." It suggests denial though she doesn't actually say it.

As he hands over the rock she requested, V'ros shrugs in a dismissive sort of way. "Ok, you don't want to be friends then. Maybe the rock will be your friend. They don't have feelings or opinions so it's perfect for you." His brown eyes are level, challenging even - Zmeyth might be tuning in, after all.

She does throw it at him. Of course they're only an arm's length from one another and it is quite small and there's no wind up. There's an embarrassed flush in her cheeks, though Roz can't know how close to the mark he hits. The rock is pretty harmless all in all, just a statement on its own before, "You're a jerk." Then Lya's turning to pick her way away and then around him, apparent intention being to get to dry land.

It hits his arm with a thunk. "That was uncalled for," V'ros mumbles, rubbing his arm where the rock made contact. He frowns as he watches her wade away. "I thought I was the coward." That's a flying insult - a bold statement.

Proof that Lycinea's words sometimes take a shortcut around her brain to her mouth comes as she pivots around, stumbling but not falling, to say, "It's not like you get to have a monopoly on it!" But her brain pulls facial muscles to visibly disapprove of the end result as she quickly adds, "And anyway, I'm not one. But it isn't nice to go around making people feel vulnerable. You wouldn't like it if I did it to you." That's better right? "And even if I did want to be your friend," which she's not presently admitting to, "It's no way to treat a friend, especially not one still wearing a cast because of your last equally friendly act." Because making her feel vulnerable and shoving her is the same thing, right?

Reference to the cast earns a wince. "I.. but.. I.." V'ros starts and stops a few times, his frown intensifying the more the kitchen aide speaks. "I'm sorry about what happened, but if you don't want to be friends, fine. You don't have to make me feel bad about it. I'll leave you alone, ok?" He backs away with his hands raised - harmless, see?

Lycinea is probably her own worst enemy most of the time. She looks annoyed. What she says next isn't quite in line with the flow of the conversation. "I had a really big and strong looking perverted," because that's important, "bronzerider offer to beat you up for me and I told him no." That should mean she wants to be friends, right? Nevermind that annoyance in her tone as her hands go to hips, eyelids now fluttering against the brightness of the day.

V'ros stops walking backwards and regards her with a strange expression. "What?" He sounds incredulous - like he's wondering, did she just threaten me? "You're bluffing. I'm a weyrling, if one of them did that, Quinlys would kick their asses." Crossing his arms again, he looks suspicious. "I said I'm sorry. What else do you want me to do?"

Lycinea rolls her eyes at V'ros. What else can she really do? "I didn't tell him who you were. Just not to beat you up. That's the kind of thing friends do." She says it like she knows these things. Then she ignores the rest, but stays put where she turned, the water up a few fingers higher than her ankles. "If I swam, I'd throw a rock at you for making me miss out on all the summer swim time." But she doesn't reach for any stones now.

"What?" V'ros sounds baffled - he's doing a lot of 'what'ing in this conversation. "I think we have different ideas of friends. A 'friend' would understand what's going on and accept my apology, and not try to act like I killed their pet." He looks back at Lycinea petulantly. "You already threw a rock at me.. looks like you succeeded."

"I thought I already accepted your apology?" Lycinea answers, uncertainty making it a question as her brows dip down. "I don't have a pet so I wouldn't possibly know where to begin to make someone feel like that." Not the point, but now her arms are trying to cross over her chest, only there's a cast there, so she settles for awkwardly folding in a sort of self-hug after a moment.

"I thought you did too." V'ros has a heavily-knitted brow, a frown that etches into the smile lines of face - now frown lines. "You're missing the point. You're continuing to accuse me when I already apologized. I don't know what you want from me."

"I wasn't accusing you." Lya sighs and then turns, "This is probably a terrible idea," which she normally specializes in, but this time seems to be borrowing from V'ros' store of cowardice as she picks her way back to shore carefully.

Sure, he could argue and continue to fight, but there's truth in what she said - them being friends.. is a terrible, horrible idea. V'ros simply watches her go, frown intact, before he turns and moves back to the small group he came with. Someone starts pushing him almost immediately, laughingly urging to know who that "cute blonde" is. Pushing becomes horse play, and, soon, the whole ordeal is forgotten.