Logs:Clutchmates are Awesome
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| RL Date: 10 July, 2011 |
| Who: Taikrin, Warucori |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Zaxameth and Warucori are another breath of fresh air for an exhausted Taikrin and Szadath. Nothing like your clutchmates to raise your spirits! |
| Where: Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Weather: A layer of gray clouds hangs oppressively around the spires. The air is humid and cool, but there is no snowfall today. |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, Riorde/Mentions |
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| It is a winter dusk, 17:52 of day 7, month 3, turn 26 of Interval 10. To Szadath, Zaxameth's thoughts swirl in with velvety twinkles of blue and purples, « Clutch brother! » Cheerful as a trio of struck bells. Exhaustion has muted Szadath's normally robust mindvoice, until it mostly just resembles someone shouting down a long, echoey hall. « Brother, » he acknowledges. « What's the word? » (Szadath to Zaxameth) To Szadath, Zaxameth's enthusiasm blasts right over the tired notes in the brown's mind, like a fuzzy warm hug and a clap on the shoulder, « It is search time! We should search. Together. Right now. » Because searching is his game and this game comes so rarely. « I've got to get a load of good ones. More than last time.» It's only after he's blazed along a moment that he reflects on the other's mood, « What's wrong?» To Zaxameth, Szadath doesn't wince away from the blast, precisely, so much as his mental presence attenuates further down that hallway. « Search, for candidates? » The way he turns the idea over and over would imply that it's not something he's given a lot of thought to. « Just got back from sweeps. » And while he doesn't /say/ punishment sweeps, the sensation of flying endless circles over the same quadrant of land implies as much. To Szadath, Zaxameth projects, « Oh, there is dis-a-pointment when Szadath backs of, but nevermind, he bowls forward cheerfully, « Of course. » Images of white-roped goodness. With the sort of night-before-christmasy feeling in it. LIkt packages that need to be unwrapped for the little-ones. He might as well be humming holiday tunes too. « What happened? » Finaly. At last, his bubbliness tones down, « Mine says an egg was hurt. Was an egg hurt? Is that why you're on long sweeps? » » To Zaxameth, Szadath projects, « Hurt an egg? Iskiveth said so, too. We weren't here when it happened. » Which is Szadath's way of saying that no, it wasn't his fault. « We took out a female for a mating flight, but we did not have permission to fly her. » He adds an image of his rider and another girl on a southern beach, with a dash of salacious feeling thrown in for the enjoyment of his brother. « We cannot have her back until we finish our sweeps. » To Szadath, Zaxameth gasps, in that mind-voice, « We have to *ask* now??!! » His world reels. « For every one? » Hey, he's going to lean in and admire the 'view', sensations at all with a brotherly mental nudge to the brown, but his concern is a tightening ball. « This will be...complicated for us. » And then, disgusted, « That just isn't right!» To Zaxameth, Szadath withholds comment for a moment, amusement bubbling ice-cold just beneath the surface of his thoughts, before he relents. « No, only for the special ones. From that place. » An image of the island, barren and tiny and crawling with dot-sized exiles. « The rest are still safe for catching, if you are fast enough. » He even offers that beach image up for inspection again, as mollification for teasing his clutch-brother so. To Szadath, Zaxameth gives a mental shove for nearly giving him a heart attack, « You.... My rider would be *very* upset if this new rule broke up our mating flights. » He shares a rather lewd little snippet from an brazing Igen platue. Fair is fair right? « The mate of mine is chasing one of those from the *island* » There is amusement there, deep as the ocean and churning with laughter. « We will not help them though. That is his game. » All curiosity about the exiles, Szadath only pays cursory attention to the Igen-image. « Is he? Which one? He cannot chase ours, because it's not fair that we can't give chase too, yet.» Glumly, « We can't chase /any/ of them. » A cool wind brushes over Zaxameth's mind, skimming for surface thoughts. « Did you get to see one, yet? They're afraid of me. It's funny. » (Szadath to Zaxameth) To Szadath, Zaxameth tucks his image of Igen away like a naughty photograph, laughter rippling through him, « Which one is yours so we know? I do not fly against clutch brother, unless she is a fine female. » There have been a few flights they've had to go head to head. The image of the exile his rider's mate is hunting is Rhaelyn, but almost in cartoon. The blue doesn't seem to care since his rider doesn't care. Instead he continues on, « We tried to save them from the island.» His opinion of that is poor. « We can find some of them to stand for the eggs. We should look.» To Zaxameth, Szadath turns the image of Rhaelyn over and over, even withdrawing somewhat as he shares the image with Taikrin as well. When he returns, it's with a racuous rumble of laughter. « This one and mine bicker like queens in season! » He returns a clearer image of Riorde, still plucked from that day on the beach. « We /did/ save them. We brought them here, where they are safe and under our protection. » To Szadath, Zaxameth shares in the laughter, « Perhaps she needs a /good/ breeding to steady her. Mines says that one needs work. She flies very hard and fast.» Very good sport from his point of view, puzzled why his rider isn't interested. Then, turning the image of Riorde over a few times, « If yours cannot chase the island ones, she should come chase the other ones. » Always sport in chasing some tail. Keen on this, as ever, he is all cheerfulness, « Mine knows some very nice ones. » Here's an image of a rather cute weaver journyman. « YOu know this one? She makes *soft* Clothes. And she is smells nice. Yours can fly others. To fill in the time. » It makes perfect sense to him. To Zaxameth, Szadath can't help but agree. « I think she does; they all do better with a good breeding after a fast flight. » Very good sport, indeed. « We've chased so many of the interesting ones already. » he laments. « Taikrin wants to fly this one again, especially since The Leader says we cannot. » Telling Szadath he couldn't do something has always been the best way to ensure that he would try his very best to do that very thing. « Have you chased that one? Does she fly well? » To Szadath, Zaxameth laments with and for his brother, « You will feel better once yours has her again then. You must catch some that you chase. » Otherwise, this is not fun, he doesn't like the not-catching part. « We chased that one. Caught her! She is very flexible. Then she is embarassed and we must catch her all over again. » The /best/ sort of sport. « When are you /done/ with sweeps? Can't you be done now so we can have *fun*? » Someone to share some adventures with. A hum runs through Szadath's mind, excitement and intrigue banishing the worst of the exhaustion. « We will feel better, » he agrees. « A good chase and better catch make everything right again. » He shares, finally, an image of the panorama as seen from his ledge. « We finished. I come. » Bone-deep exhaustion leaks across the link, whether deliberate or accidental, for his blue brother to share. « What fun are we having? » (Szadath to Zaxameth) To Szadath, Zaxameth comforts his poor tired brother with another mental pat on the back-ish. « We will chase some pretty tail. Then, there will be sweet-sweet love. » There's amusement, but seriousness in that thread of thought. « If yours cannot have the islanders, we will hunt elsewhere.» He tosses out a few random locations, some random faces that he knows are agreeable catches in his past. « What would YOU and yours like to do? You are the ones suffering. » Apparently there's another hitch. « We... cannot leave the Weyr. We remain bound, save for sweeps, until The Leader says otherwise. Even for chases. » Which puts a pretty heavy damper on Szadath's enthusiasm every time he remembers it. « We may not enjoy the Snowasis, either. » Such a hard life they lead! (Szadath to Zaxameth) To Szadath, Zaxameth reels again with all these restrictions. Restrictions, « That is not fair. » A pause and then « Never fear! How about.....» Zax, crafty litle blue that he is, and ever the match-maker, has plans, « We bring pretties to YOU! Or, the hot springs! » Playful images of pretty people splashing in the warm water. To Zaxameth, Szadath remains fully in agreement, sharing freely of his irritation at the restrictions. « It's not fair. But we are not banished from the hot springs. » Irritation shifts into intrigue. « You are always having the best ideas, brother. Mine might not be amenable, but I am happy to entertain. » To Szadath, Zaxameth puffs up in pride, « We do like to have fun. We have missed you and yours.» stretching his memories back and back, he can't find one fun time together. Ah, but tonight he will make up for it! 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. Rather than reply, Szadath instead spirals lazily down towards the ground from his ledge, Taikrin strapped to his back. He doesn't backwing, but rather comes in hot, folding his wings at the last minute to more or less drop out of the sky in a jarring landing. « Brother! » Warucori squints up at Zaxameth as the blue sways back and forth rather excitedly, "What?" The tall bluerider looks puzzled, like she's having trouble understanding him. There's a nice rosey glow in her cheeks and it only gets worse when Szadath arrives with Taikrin, "Well, /that/ is a little short notice you know." The blue snorts over his shoulder before going to try to headbutt his brother. « Brother! » Who can blame her for grinning along. "oh goodness me." Szadath drops his head, putting the full force of his bulk behind meeting that headbutt, well, head-on. "Shells, Szad, cool it for a /second/!" Weariness has made Taikrin snappish; she nearly falls from the straps when the brown shuffles forward toward his brother. Scurrying down the rest of the straps, she rolls her eyes at the brown's antics, then turns to Warucori. "Hey, Cori. Heard you were lookin' for us?" Zaxameth grunts at the impact from the larger dragon but flip-slaps with a wing cheerfully. This, of course, after Taikrin is out of range. "Hey! Long time no see." Much like her dragon she is excited and bounds forward to give the rider a hug. "I haven't seen you in -ages-. Zax says you need some company and some...distractions." Roughhousing: Szadath's very favorite occupation (after chasing greens). He responds to the buffet in kind, then twists around to shoulder-check Zaxameth with considerable enthusiasm. Taikrin keeps a wary eye on the antics, but otherwise puts most of her attention on the bluerider - particularly once she's hugging her. "Seems like, don't it? Good of you guys; been havin' a long coupl'a sevens, me and Szad. How you two been?" Warucori gives one more squeeze to Taikrin and then loops an arm around the woman, "That's a bunch of shit if you ask me. Want to have some punch and pie and talk about it?" Behind her, Zax growl like a hatchling, rolling onto his side at the heavy shoulder-check and nips at the brown's flank. "There might be another distraction or two. I want to hear all about this. Zax kept showing me some...pornography." Not really but it's fun to tease. Taikrin seems content with the contact; she even wraps an arm lower around Warucori's waist a moment later. "Sure as shells is a crock of shit. But what're ya gonna do, yeah?" Szadath rumbles like an earthquake, rearing up onto his hind legs at the nip and lashing his tail out towards the blue's shoulder in return. "It ain't /really/ so exciting to tell as I reckon Szad's made it out to be. Took the wrong girl down on a little trip south, an' it all came back to bite me in the ass." She doesn't seem the least bit perturbed by mention of pornography; indeed, a snort of laughter punctuates Warucori's very mention of it. Warucori leans her head over so she can brush the side of her head against Taikrin's. Support. Sympathy. "It's been a long time since we got into 'trouble'." She corrects in a lower tone, "Unless you count our extra drills because Zax is always trying to put wind of someone's tail randomly." She tries to sound irritated, but the two of them are so much alike now, it's just not right. "Poor Taikrin. Guess you can't really pick when the right one surfaces huh?" Zaxameth snorts out at Szadath, taunting, but the tail that thumps his shoulder earns another grunt. Falling back the blue romps a short distance away to collect himself. Szadath crouches down like a cat, tail lashing madly back and forth as his jaw opens up into a draconic grin. « Going to catch you! » he taunts, as if he were still a five foot long weyrling. "I just wanted to screw a girl on a beach," Taikrin mock-wails, gesturing with her free hand to emphasize her plight. "That so much to ask, really? And then K'del had t'step in and get pissy, and then /you/ know how I like to run my mouth at him, and-- we been runnin' on punishment drills since the clutching." Zaxameth blows and huffs and prances with his feet stomp-stomping to egg the brown on. "Goodness, they're like weyrlings!" Just as Zaxameth makes a darting run and dodge from the brown. LIke a game of tackle football and maybe the blue has the ball. Back to the rider's problem though, "That's just fucked up. Of course you want to have a nice go at the beach! I recommend the apple orchards at Nabol too. In spring, or right before harvest." She grins impishly. "So, do you think K'del is more mad that you ran your mouth? Or that you had more fun than he's having?" "Apple orchards in Nabol?" Taikrin directs a bemused smile up at Warucori. "Shells, you really have been explorin', huh? Have to keep that one in mind." Szadath darts forward, his massive bulk not nearly as agile on the ground as the blue's, then attempts to swing around to grab after Zaxameth's tail. « Fast! » The brownrider can't help but laugh. "Like to think it's that second one, you know? Jealous, and all. But who knows-- man's mind is twisty." Beat. "Got any exciting ones, lately, yourself?" "I'm..." Cori chews at her lower lip, "Lets see, how does daddy put it? OH yes, A 'Sluuut'." SHe crinkles her noes, but really, she impressed so young and to /Cupid/...what girl has a chance? So, she doesn't look ashamed, or apologetic. "We don't hurt anyone though." She jumps as Zax yelps and his tail gets caught up. The blue folds in his wings and rolls over a couple times, growling. No harm done really, Cori turns back to Taikrin, "I don't think he's a poacher. Ya know?" There's a little laugh about what she's been up to lately, "Uuummm....I am totally head over heels for these bronzeriders at Igen. But, I also am sort of seeing this weaver Journywoman. And...Zev and I are moving in together." Complicated. Warucori was meaning K'del not being the poacher. yup "Hey, you like what you do. Reckon you're pretty good at it, too. If you ain't hurtin' anybody, it ain't nobody's business." Beat. "You see your dad much, these days?" This whole being a slut business is, well, something Taikrin is a little dismissive of. Even if she does kind of boggle at that last bit. "Shells, girl, dunno how you keep 'em all straight. I like my girls one at a time. Well. Maybe two at a time. And if Szad's catching greens, then that's another thing--" The brownrider grins crookedly through all this, completely ignoring Szadath's bellow of triumph. He lets go of the blue's tail almost immediately, cocking his head to study his last maneuver. « I can't do that; it squishes my wing. » "I figured my clutchmate would understand. I mean, even though you know what I was like back ... before." Cori grins and nods her head, "I go home and bring gifts for my sisters, the nieces and nephews. I just don't talk much about my lifestyle. They really like Zev. Helps that he's a crafter and he's been with me since before Zax." The bluerider nods in agreement, "Well, keep um straight....I don't see them all the time. Not really 'together'. Do you think you'll change your ways if you....and this girl work out? Too soon to ask?" Zaxemth grumbles at being defeated and head-bumps Szadath, « Benifit of being *small*. But, I don't get to catch Golds. » Sulky. "Well, yeah. I remember all too well-- poor little Cori, didn't know what's what. And then there's all of us, and our evil ways--" Taikrin teases back. More seriously, "I dunno. It wasn't even, like-- everyone's makin' this big deal about it. I didn't really think about it none. She was hot, and she was /willing/, so we did it. A coupl'a times. It's /not/, like, we were a regular thing. But she's--" The brownrider shrugs, not entirely comfortable, then topic-shifts. "You think livin' with Zev'd put a crimper on what you do? Or just make it easier? He ain't the makin'-babies type, is he?" This, Szadath can puff his chest out about. « They /are/ very different from greens. But that is a clever move. Do it again? » So he can study the maneuver from a different angle. Warucori laughs, "I would play the role of the poor abused little girl, but Zax makes life impossable when I do that. He has straying eyes. Makes it difficult to resist. But ok, I'm not trying too hard to fight it." She nods her head about the new exile girl in Taikrin's life, smiling. "I'm glad for you. I mean, just to have a good time. Some fun." As for her relationship with Zev? She smiles, "We have spent the past turn slowly moving into my weyr. Testing it out. He has his own wandering eyes. Ah, and babies? Yeah, he likes children. Going to be a daddy soon." Not that it seems to bother her, she actually sounds proud about it. Zaxameth flaps out his wings and then cups them asgainst his side, « You are lucky. » He congratulates his brother for the gold-chasing ability. With an arch of his neck, he does another roll. It's quick, not much time with weight on those wing-joints. "Yeah, he-- wait. What?" Startled, Taikrin draws back to peer critically at Warucori, particularly at her midsection. "You and he ain't-- havin' 'em /already/ are you? I didn't hear nothin' about you bein' on restricted duty!" Szadath, interest sated, settles back on his haunches. « I am good, » he corrects idly. « Can you do the same thing in the air? Or maybe... in the water? It might impress the greens. You could change direction very quickly. » Just like that, he slips from play-mode into tactics-mode. Warucori runs a hand through her hair, adjusting one of the pins in her curls, "Well, I'm not the mother of his future kids." Yes, that's plural. "Yet I mean." The hand over her flat stomach pats it like she's had a good meal. "Danger of playing with fire you know. Children." Zaxameth Stretches, shaking some mud from his wings, « I can turn and dive...oh, and loop. I do not think greens are as impressed with moves in water as in air. Can you roll like that in the air?» Taikrin sags deliberately into Warucori, feigning mock exhaustion. "Bloody shells, Cori, don't scare me like that. You're too pretty a girl to waste your body makin' babies." That's the brownrider's view on the entire affair, anyways. "And it's somethin' I'm flaming well glad nobody's going to ask /me/ to do." Szadath shakes his wings out, testingly, then re-folds them. « Perhaps if I was very high. If I had Taikrin with me she might get hurt, though. I might-- » And he's cut off as the brownrider calls over her shoulder, "Whatever you're about to do, don't even think about it. You're gonna hurt yourself." Warucori pats Taikrin's shoulder and lays her head in again to touch with the brownrider's. "You make it sound like having babies sucks the life right out of you. As long as you eat good while you carry them it's alright. Not like back at the hold." A curious look takes in her clutchmate. "So, do you get home often? At all? I don't recall what your relationship was like with your family." The little blue hops in place with playful eagerness. "He wants to find his candidates so badly. It's worse than a green going up right under his nose." "That's because it /does/," Taikrin insists, a little melodramatically. "Then you either gotta foster 'em off your Faranth help you suck 'em yourself, and before you know it there's a herd of knee-highs runnin' around gettin' in the way and you can't do /anything/ anymore." A sigh escapes her before she can continue. "Doin' alright. My littlest sister got herself apprenticed at Harper, and my other one's got herself a husband and a baby. Doin' okay for themselves, I guess. Don't get out there all that often. Ain't got time, seems like. Easier for them if I'm not around much, too." Szadath swivels his head towards the living caverns, as if he'd caught a scent. « How many do you think you will find for the eggs? Do you think there are good ones nearby? » Warucori laughs at Taikrin's pretty picture of motherhood and squeezes her, "That's downright barbaric." She winks, "Guess you're lucky it won't be happening to you. Stay away from those good looking boy greenriders!" Zaxameth tips his muzzle up into the air, « I smell -lots- of them. I need them to be closer. Got to have my eyes on them real close-like. That's how I picked the best ones last time.» That should be fun for the exiles. The bluerider looks over as her lifemate trumpets eagerly, "I'm sorry...I really wanted to show you a fun time tonight. Hit on some folks...have a dance. But Zax wants me to call out a few people from the living cavern." "Hah, right. Good-lookin' boy greenriders. More like, gotta keep Szad away from their greens. But-- that's okay. I ain't supposed to be even havin' any fun, I don't reckon, for another coupl'a sevens. Just have to muddle through somehow." Szadath returns his attention to Zaxameth, as if studying the blue's technique again. « I should see how you do it. So I can compare. Later! » Because the brown's head is pulled towards Iskiveth's ledge, like iron to a lodestone. "See you later, Cori?" Warucori draws away from Taikrin, "Still say it sucks but, at least you're not running transport for some stuffy holders." Oh yeah, from that face she's making, that was her last 'fun-run'. "Catch you later! Good catching up with you. Don't be a stranger." Zaxameth is already trotting eagerly off without even waiting.
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