Main Beach, Ista Weyr(#444RJ)
The coastline of black sand stretches out in either direction, tropical waters lapping ceaselessly against the subtle decline of the main beach that rests at the base of the plateau cliff. To the northeast, water from the upper pool cascades over the plateau's edge, its destination shrouded in the lush fronts of the jungle's edge and a hint of blue-tinged mist. The Sandbar, Ista's seaside tavern, stands to the south beside the long branching structure of the docks.
It's not too humid tonight at Ista, but compared to other climates, there might be a dampness in the air that's sticky and oppressive. None of that has stopped the Sandbar from doing brisk business; light and noise and people spill out into the night and down the black sand beach; up to the Weyr. And there are always dragons, but it appears there's only one dragon pair - a burnished-leather brown and his rider in the sand nearby. At least, one assumes it's his rider, though she doesn't look like the type, all tousled blonde hair and as much skin exposed as can be considered decent. It's hot! Jiella has a drink in one hand, is leaning back on the other, her long legs kicked out and crossed at the ankle.
H'kon is not present in full pairing, although surely for a rider of the 'Reaches to be at Ista, his dragon must be nearby - perhaps nearer the Weyr, sampling local cuisine or entertainments. It's from that direction, at any rate, that H'kon is making his solo path, along the beach, looking mostly at his feet but for occasional glances upward. Even on those, his gaze isn't too sharp, occupied by whatever thoughts - it doesn't look like conversation to those used to seeing it - have him busy. Busy enough that maybe, as he approaches the woman with the brown, he doesn't notice that he looks too long. At least he doesn't trip.
Orisoth is kind enough to pretend he's not watching anything going on, eyes /mostly/ closed, but a glimmer of something there, in the right light. As for Jiella, attention is more or less what she's after - I mean, seriously - so she's quick to notice any long looks from passing weyrfolk, no matter their provenance. The curvy blonde sips from her fruity-looking drink, watching H'kon before she offers a little wave, then a stunning smile. Hi there. "You look like you're thinking. That's never a good plan if you're trying to relax, you know. Gives you lines between your eyes." She taps herself there - line-free!
The, "Hmm?" that issues forth catches enough in his throat to make H'kon sound a bit older than even that greying beard suggests he is. He clears his throat as gently as possible (though it's never a graceful thing, really), blinks once, refocuses. Comes to a stop. "And," he averts his eyes politely here, consciously caught up by now with his actions, looking back only at the end of a mostly-rhetorical, "if one isn't trying to relax?" From another, it would be coy. From H'kon, it's not.
Tilting her head back to look up at the other rider, whether his attention is on her or not, Jiella sets her drink aside in a hollow in the sand likely made for that purpose. Though she's certainly not /young/ anymore, something about the way she talks takes turns off her. Languidly, "Why else walk on a beach at night like this? Don't look like you're from around here. And you look like you totally /need/ to relax." Taking up her glass again only to offer it H'kon's way, full lips curving into a grin, "Want to try? I know I'm interrupting your broody thoughtful time, but trust me, I'm more fun."
"This is Ista. One can hardly walk anywhere without coming upon a beach." One eyebrow quirks a little at the end of that comment. H'kon might have been looking toward the motion of her hand at that glass, but being told he needs to relax is enough to break green eyes into a roll. Eyelids are closed before that roll is complete. "Yes," comes with eyes opening once more, and he widens his stance just a bit, and clasps his hands almost militarily behind his (straight) back. "I imagine you would be." Painful-looking smile, half-nod of his head.
"Why come here though?" Jiella narrows brown eyes at the eye roll and rolls her eyes right back, much better at it than H'kon. So there. "Like, why come to brood at Ista-with-beaches? And you know, if you stand, I have to look up at you, and then I'm gonna get a cramp or something in my neck. And where will you be /then/?" Wrinkling her nose for that - and perhaps for that painful smile - the blonde eyes him for a moment before pleasantly, "Don't imagine. Help me finish this drink, so I don't go home all drunk and end up betweening all wrong. I'd make sure they blamed you."
H'kon raises his chin just a little, for all it means he has to strain his eyes a bit downward to keep Jiella in his field of vision - though still, he's carefully not-staring. "I did not come here specifically to brood," comes out almost chiding. It's a vibe neatly ruined when he doesn't quite manage to smother some half-reaction, maybe intended as a laugh, but instead coming out as a snorting cough. He's recovered by the time he tilts his head back down toward her. "Ah. So you would let 'them' know in advance that it was me, a man you don't know, before you would mistake your betweening?"
Patiently, finally putting down her drink again, "Then what did you come here to do? And stop brooding, then." Like it's that easy, like all Jiella needs to do is flash another smile - one that warms and widens at the near-laugh. Whatever it was. It's not /quite/ whining, but it's close when she says, "C'mon, don't make me get up. I'm comfortable and it's my day off." From standing, apparently! H'kon's logic is sound enough to give her pause; she hadn't thought about that yet. (Orisoth, with a quiet snort of his own, just might have.) Defensively, "I could give a description. Or something. Sorry, I'm being told it's not polite to hit on people without introducing myself. I'm Jiella." Offering up a long-fingered hand, though not too far, "That's Orisoth. He thinks he's smart."
Being asked his business probably isn't, really, reason for such a long pause, such careful consideration. "I came for my brother," he is, in the end, vaguely willing to share, hands unclasping, and a belated frown tugging his face (into usual lines). He does not, in the end, make her get up, at least not for hand-shaking. Or rather, a quick and light clasping, not expecting anything overtly hearty in return. "I'm led to believe that a good many dragons share in such opinions," has a bit of a jibe in it, surely not for her. "Jiella," is repeated with a thin smile, not quite as painful looking, though hardly comfy.
"Oh. I don't like my sisters. They take my things without asking." A pause. "Well, they did. Don't have so much at home anymore." Jiella is only briefly troubled by this before becoming all sunny again. "Do you like him, or do you just have to like him?" Her handshake for H'kon is about the same - she doesn't try to drag him down or anything, before she'll straighten, pulling her legs up to rest her chin on her knees, eyeing the suspiciously quiet dragon. "Unfortunately, he is. I have to give him that." Tilting an amused look up at the other rider, "You going to introduce yourself or go on being mysterious?"
"He's my brother," is the extent of the answer H'kon is willing to give. It's not without a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, this one unbidden, and so, much less of an effort, that he muses, "There is only one part of my dragon that is smart." That quirk at the corner spreads a bit more in enough time for a mental reaction. Then, he's dutifully making himself serious once more. And he squats down, knees cracking, not willing to commit to a full sit. "And if I give you my name, and you mistake your betweening?"
"I know what that means," Jiella says, with a knowing nod. "Used to say that about my father." Her gaze goes a little distant at that, looking out to the waves rolling in. There's a laugh for H'kon's answer, and she'll give him a wry smile - one that might widen a touch as he gets down near eye level. She leans over to pick up her half-empty drink again, wave it enticingly before him. Lightly, "That's a risk you have to take, I guess. But I could be convinced to send someone else up for it. /If/ it happened, yes yes." She shoots a look at the brown hulk nearby.
H'kon gives that glass a more proper inspection when it's held out again. The scowly look to his eyebrows, that's probably mostly habit by now. "You know," comes at the end of his inspection, when his eyes lift to Jiella, "I've warned naive young riders about drinking strange things." The quirk-smile this time is a dry one, and he rocks a bit in his perch on the sand, bringing his forearms to rest on his knees. "So long as someone is blamed, hm?"
It looks fairly innocuous, the drink, if fruity and maybe girly. But Jiella is a fruity-girly-drink girl from the likes of her. With a slow grin, "Are you a naive young rider? I don't think so. It's just some kinda punch thing that tastes like sugar but is really booze? It's not a /manly/ drink, but it's dark and no one's watching but me." She wiggles it again, arching light brows like, last chance... Cheerfully, "Someone that's not me, right. That doesn't look comfortable, by the way."
"No," answers her rhetorical question, probably right overtop of her continued speech. H'kon waits after that, lifting his hand at the wrist only to wave off the offer. "I've never been much for too sweet a taste either, in my drinks." He dares give a better look toward the brown now, bouncing again a bit, on the balls of his feet. "Doesn't it?" comes on the second of those bounces, which stop once they've achieved their task of getting blood back into his lower legs. "H'kon," is added almost as afterthought.
Jiella gives a little pout H'kon's way, if only because he's not doing what she wants. But she'll shrug and finish the drink anyway, not bothered by taste or alcohol. Orisoth, for his part, seems pretty mellow for all that his rider is quite the opposite. He'd have to be - patience. "Oh well. And no, it doesn't. Planning on leaving soon? or were you on your way somewhere?" But then, the addition makes her smile; she seems pleased with herself. "Nice to meet you, H'kon."
"It had been becoming more of a plan," H'kon offers, the faintest edge to his voice as he cants his head a bit. Which, in his current position, has the whole of him leaning a little to one side. "Hmph," doesn't sound pleased per se, but is certainly not any sort of abrupt defense in the face of that smile either. "So tell me," and his eyes flick from rider, to dragon, back to rider, "will you manage your way home safely after such a drink?"
Another pout for the other rider, /leaving/ her here all alone. As if Jiella has to be alone for long if she doesn't want to. Case in point, H'kon? Airily, "I can make my way home on my own. It's just a matter of whether I /want/ to or not. But /yes/, Orisoth takes good care of me." Her own head tilting slightly as she regards him, she offers suddenly, with a wicked grin, "But run into me sometime if you decide you're done with your brooding for awhile. I feel like it's... civic duty or something."
"Always the question," is wry. H'kon takes that half-breath that comes with bracing for some motion, but there's a delay before his stand, until his repetition of, "Civic duty." Eyebrows raise as he himself does, and the man shifts his weight a bit from foot to foot as limbs become accustomed to their more usual position. A sigh precedes, "Not to be taken lightly." And then it's a quick goodbye, a nod of his head, and he sets off - but back along his original course.
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