Logs:Full Of Surprises
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| RL Date: 4 April, 2013 |
| Who: Azaylia, Barnabas |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Azaylia decides she's in need of a break and drags Bones along for the ride. Things are a little bumpy, but smooth out in the end. |
| Where: Azaylia and Hreadhyth's Ledge, High Reaches Weyr / Main Beach, Ista Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Mentions: Hana/Mentions |
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| Azaylia and Hraedhyth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr Accessed via a narrow staircase from the Weyrleader's Complex, or from the broad, sunny ledge beyond, this weyr was clearly designed to be for one of the weyr's junior queens. Spacious, but not extravagant, it boasts a well-sized outer room, narrowing in front the well-sized dragon couch and ledge beyond. Much of this main room has been turned over to a couch and several chairs, which circle the hearth and the blue rug set down in front of it. There's a low table here, too, set in the middle of that rug. A tack-cupboard stands tidily behind the couch, keeping out of sight a rider's paraphernalia. Three low steps lead up onto a peculiar little landing, just large enough for the brand new desk and set of shelves that have been placed there. Here, too, there are definite pointers to the lived-in state of the weyr: the desk could in no way be described as tidy. Behind the desk, a narrow passage leads in an inner set of chambers, made up of a sleeping cavern and a private bathing area. A decent-sized bed fills much of the space, the mattress piled high with overstuffed down pillows and comforter. There's a nightstand on either side, and against one of the other walls, a tall, heavy wardrobe made from a dark wood that matches the bed. The bathing area is part of the same cavern, a folding screen shielding the toilet and slightly raised, double-sized bathtub built into the stone, and a small shelf to hold toiletries. Unusually, the walls, ceiling and floor of this weyr have all been whitewashed thickly, covering the natural stone. The hearth is brand new, too, as are most of the built-in fittings, as though they have recently needed to be replaced. Time spent within Azaylia's weyr has become a balance of eating and working, with the occasional acknowledgment that there is someone else sharing the space. There's the distinct feeling that the weyrwoman might have skipped a meal or three without the likes of Hana around. Dutiful days have blurred together, sprinkled with interruptions that are anywhere from pleasant to unnecessarily complicated. Even the most patient of souls has a breaking point, and today Azaylia has reached hers. When Bones arrives for their agreed upon lunch, he'll find the table suspiciously clear and the goldrider not at her desk or working on the couch. Instead, there's rustling from her more private chambers. "Zee?" Voice is rough as usual as he enters, but it's quiet, and more a vocalization of his internal monologue than a genuine call for his goldriding weyrfriend. Is she even here? Somebody certainly is, he can hear the sounds from further in. Under normal circumstances, he knows better than to interrupt anything that happens in that room. But... well, they had plans right? "Azaaaayliaaa~" Singsong and drawn out, he tries to get her attention. As if by magic, Azaylia pops into view looking all sorts of... off. Dark hair hangs in a braid along the side of her head beneath a floppy sunhat, the woman wearing in a simple white sundress. Her riding jacket has been thrown over it, making the otherwise nice ensemble look awkward. In one hand is a basket overflowing with foodstuffs and drink, her other arm holding a rolled up quilt in the crook of it. "Have you ever ridden a dragon before?" A breathless rush, "Betweened? Get your coat." They're making a break for it! She brushes past, excitement rather than fear prompting her to move quickly, walking out to the ledge where Hraedhyth is waiting. The gold herself seems restless, muscles twitching beneath tawny hide, straining against the riding straps she wears. What starts as concern for Azaylia at her unusual clothing combinations quickly becomes more selfish, a pause in him before he follows after her out towards the ledge. "Have I ever ridden a... gone betw-" His steps become more urgent, and he tries to stop her pace with a hand on her shoulder. "Whoa! Whoa whoa whoa, hold on. You mean you want me to get on Hrae there and... fly? No no no. We'll just walk, okay? How about walking." His assertiveness is not at all masking the fear in him. The hand on her shoulder only serves to slow the determined goldrider, not stop her. Azaylia will drag Bones to her dragons side if his grip stays as it is, "We can't walk there." Simple fact without a hint of annoyance for the man. She's busy securing the rolled up quilt to extra, load-bearing straps on the massive dragon as she explains, "I just want a few hours to relax. Outside. I'd like for you to come with me?" Now she does turn, small smile paired with that faintly wrinkled brow, touched with concern. "Hraedhyth thought you'd like it." Yes, the gold that's completely ignoring him right now. Bones' own brow pinches up at the middle as he glances towards Hraedyth's huge face, hoping to find something to read in the dragon's expression to confirm Azaylia's words. Finding nothing, he looks back down to Azaylia with lips parted in an attempt to speak, but fails to vocalize the protest he's aiming for. With a slump of his shoulders and a defeated sigh "Should I... hold my breath or..." He reaches out to touch at a strap around Hraedyth, giving it a few soft tugs to test it's security for himself. Hraedhyth is looking out towards the bowl, and even if she were looking back at both of them, dragon faces are notoriously hard to read. Her eyes are an easy blue-green, if the gardener remembers which colors mean what. Azaylia's smile gains some warmth when Bones accepts his fate, though there's a comforting touch to his arm. "You don't have to, you know." She really would understand if he decides to stay home. "You'll need your coat. Between is really cold, but it only lasts as long as it takes to count to three." She turns rned back to the straps, climbing up with athletic ease that comes with the territory of dragonriding. Slowly, "One... two... three. And we'll be there." The basket is secured in front of her, the goldrider gazing down at him from on high. There's plenty of room left for Bones in the bitch seat. Rather than comforting, learning the details of betweening only make him more nervous. Three breaths? Cold? All of it is supernatural in ways his very down-to-earth mind finds uneasy, and yet he goes to get his coat all the same. "Maaan, what's wrong with just eating lakeside?" It's mostly muttered to himself, but there's a chance Azaylia might overhear his whining as he climbs up the side of Hraedyth with less practice, but plenty of strength in his arms to help makeup for the awkward mounting. Bones is offered a sturdy arm to help him climb up the last of it, "You really don't have to come if you don't want to." Azaylia's excitement is dimmed some by her friend's obvious reluctance. She's slow to secure him in the straps, giving an extra hard yank for his sake. See? Nice and secure! Even then he's given plenty of time to back out of it, Hraedhyth's impatience causing her to shift beneath them every now and again. There's another deep sigh from Bones, but this one not out of frustration or defeat, but of forced relaxation. He's on a dragon, he's about to go between, and all of that is okay, right? Right. "I might as well do this once right? How many holders get to say they've done this in their life?" There's a shift in his seat, double checking his straps. "C'mon, let's go eat lunch." Azaylia rewards his bravery with a bright smile, "You're going to love it." Meanwhile, Hraedhyth has been watching. Her head is turned ever so slightly to check on her passengers, mischief whorling in her jeweled gaze. As soon as the goldrider is facing forward, the dragon lurches into motion and leaps into the sky. "Hraedhyth!" Soprano rises into a high shriek that's plagued by laughter, the wind whipping the sound away as soon as it leaves her lips. Up, up, up! The gold's clubbed wings carry her bulk high above the Weyr, straightening out into a glide that points them away from their home. "Remember!" Azaylia tries to reassure, possibly unheard, "Three coughs!" And just like that, they're lost to the frigid nothingness of between. Black. Blacker. Blackest... "GYEAAH!" Otherwise fearless, Bones makes a sound as if he's been stabbed at the sudden leap from the mammoth gold, clutching to whatever leather he can take hold of as the flight reaches high into the air. The sight of earth so far below is mind-warping, and yet Bones refuses to close his eyes for fear of not being witness to his swift demise. Proof of why weyrlings need to be youthful, Bones' mind is far too set in it's ways to do anything less than panic as they slip into a dark void. This is it, this is how it ends. Main Beach, Ista Weyr 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. The cold of between is banished almost instantly by the hazy heat of Ista as Hraedhyth blinks back into existence. She hasn't lost a passenger yet, thank you very much. There's a hearty bellow for the watchdragon and his rider, her thoughts reaching out for an enthused greeting for the Weyrleaders' dragons. They don't stay in the air for long as the gold picks a stretch of black sand to land on with a whump. Azaylia turns, unable to keep the grin off her face as she asks, "Are you alright?" She doesn't move to unfasten either of them just yet, though the weyrwoman is quickly shrugging off her jacket. Too hot for it now, too humid. With mind still reeling from betweening, Bones is left in an adrenaline spiked haze as the sudden heat elicits sweat from his pale brow almost immediately. There's no answer for Azaylia after the two land, the man still clutching tight to his straps as he glances around with quickened breath. After a few seconds, his breathing normalizes, and he turns to Azaylia with a hard swallow. "Igen?" Close. "No... no, it's Ista. We're... it's Ista." He still sounds out of breath. That grin falls, "Oh, Bones. I'm... N-no it's-- Yes." Azaylia settles on an answer once he's properly identified the area. "You've been here before?" Jacket left bunched up atop her dragon's back, the goldrider begins to free herself from the straps. "I'm so sorry. By the time I knew what she was planning..." Well, they were up in the air. Rather than dismount, she manages to turn in place so that her wide straddle is facing the shaken gardener. Once again, with all of her concern and none of that mirth, "Are you alright?" Bone's whole face is slick with sweat, and yet he makes no move at all towards removing his heavy coat, entirely still in his seat. "We're in fucking Ista. Heh." There's a small chuckle of disbelief, and after a few more glances around, he finally unstraps himself from Hraedhyth and slides down her side to the sands below. "It's been... eleven turns? Twelve? I don't even know." "Yes." Azaylia can't seem to find anything new to add, watching him slide the long way down to the dark sand below. She's right behind him, doing her best to keep that white dress from flying up when she jumps the last few feet. She's got the basket with her, but makes no move to unfasten the large quilt just yet. "Hraedhyth sees you pacing near the lake sometimes. I remember that you used to be a sailor. You know, before." Before he did his time in the mines. "It'll be warm enough to swim in the lake soon." Until then, there's the warm waters of Ista. Bones' heavy thump into the sands has him taking a knee besides Hraedyth, once again the big man forced to chuckle at how out of it the trip has made him. "This is seriously fucking with my head." And yet he's smiling big as he reaches down to take a handful of the hot sand and let it slip through his fingers back to the beach below. "I think I'm gonna throw up." Still on one knee, now both hands dig into the sand as he tries to collect his thoughts. His memories. The basket has enough weight to it that it sinks when dropped, Azaylia stepping closer to Bones and laying a hand on his back. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have sprung it on you." Hraedhyth turns her head to watch, whuffing a hot gust of dragonbreath at where he's crouched. "We thought you missed the ocean." Realization hits. Another attempt to do something nice seemingly ends in disaster. "We'll go back." A quiet murmur of defeat. "Mmmph" A sound between a whimper and a grunt as his eyes close, his hot coat seeming many times heavier than its already considerable weight. "Just... gimmie a second here. One second." He takes a deep breath, the hot wet air filling his lungs much more different than the cold, thin variety of 'Reaches. "I'm just... bein' a drama queen. Pay no mind." His arms shake a little as they push him up enough that he can get his feet back underneath him. Now, finally, the coat is shed to the sands with a thump, and underneath he's several shades whiter than usual, and drenched in sweat. "D'ya have anything to drink?" "You're upset." Azaylia argues, although gently. When he shifts beneath her hand the rider pulls away, watching that heavy coat fall away. "I... yes." She had packed for lunch, after all. She's quick about finding the right 'skin, returning to Bones' side and settling next to him. "Here." The juice is chilled, it's fruity, and after he's gotten a good mouthful he'll realize it's spiked. She stays by his side, elbows perched atop her thighs as she keeps to a quiet crouch. Bones pulls deeply from the skin, the fact that it's spiked only making it all the more enticing. Still, he has enough manners in him not to take every last drop. "I did miss the ocean." He finally clarifies as he hands her the skin, forcing a small smile to his lips. "But... s'like meetin' up with an old fuckbuddy who you split with for good reason. Y'miss it, but ain't all them memories good." His analogy, as odd as he feels saying it, is the best way he can describe the sensation. "Dunno if that made any damn sense." Azaylia accepts the wilted skin, the glance she aims at it almost sympathetic. Poor thing never stood a chance. Bones' voice snatches her back, eyes searching the man's pale face as he tries to explain his reaction. "Oh." The skin is placed on the ground next to her as she moves, scuttling on the tips of her toes in order to not break from her crouch. She manages to tuck herself up against his front, arms lifting to pull him into an awkward embrace. "It does make sense." No more apologies, even she's aware of how many times she's said sorry. Eyes shoot wide as Bones is suddenly hugged, not expecting the closeness, and almost immediately more concerned for Azaylia than he is thankful for the embrace. "Oh man I'm gonna drench you in sweat, Zee. I'm nasty right now." But he doesn't pull away, his thick arms moving to rest at the back of her white sundress. He isn't exaggerating about the sweat. "Sorry, it's a damn good surprise. Just a little too good, heh." He takes a sigh, and lifts himself up out of the hug by finally bringing himself up to stand, moving immediately to peel off his shirt. "I ain't used to the heat anymore." They'll teeter if they stay too low for too long. The position make it difficult to get in a decent hug, but Azaylia seems determined. Pressing in tighter, "Don't care." There's an ocean right next to them to rinse off in. True to her words, she doesn't shy away from the slimy gardener until he begins to pull back and stand. "You're just saying that." Not that the goldrider doesn't appreciate it, a weak smile settling on her lips. He should enjoy the moment of freedom, because now that he's on his feet she's able to give him a real hug, squeezing out the apology she bites back. Sweat be damned! Bones only just barely has his shirt halfway up his chest when she suddenly re-attatches herself to his front, and he laughs as he's stuck trying to wriggle the rest of the way out with his shirt wrapped up around his head. "Zee, c'mon now, you're bein' ridiculous." He finishes peeling off his shirt, and it ends up in the same pile as his coat and vest, the man left in nothing but leather cuffs from the waist up. Despite his words, he returns her genuine hug, finally convinced that she doesn't care about the perspiration. "Ocean's callin' my name darlin'." Which means the hug has to end. "I need to swim." This time Azaylia's cry of "Don't care!" is a happier one. His laughter encourages her to cling, now just trying to make things more difficult for him. The petname has her laughing, peeling herself off of the man and motioning towards the rolling waves. "Go, have fun." Hraedhyth has been patient long enough, and gives a low rumble that summons her rider over, unloading the dragon and freeing her from those straps. Hopefully Bones doesn't mind company, the dragon running for the water, crashing into the surf with a bellow. It's only then that the weyrwoman realizes that maybe she should've heeded Bones' warning. Eeew. Sunhat and dress are left with their things, new swimsuit put to use as she follows man and dragon into the water. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!
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