Logs:Until You Die
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| RL Date: 28 August, 2014 |
| Who: V'ros, Telavi |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Telavi supervises manned flight for the weyrlings. |
| Where: Lakeshore, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 28, Month 8, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Summer, clear, beautiful. |
| Mentions: A'rist/Mentions |
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| 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. Summer days like this won't last forever, already shortening as they are. Ordinarily the lake would be crowded; Telavi's ushered its occupants off with a winning smile, though, promising that they'll get to come back soon. V'ros and Zmeyth weren't the first or even the second pair to be summoned, but they are both third and last for the day-- and if that means they have an audience, that's just what has to be done to achieve a watery instead of stony landing area should worst comes to worst. "Ready to mount up?" Tela asks V'ros now from Solith's neck; for now, the adult green is still longer than the brown, but she keeps her tail and wings close to her as though they might otherwise be tripped over. On a regular day, with no one watching from the shoreline, V'ros is already a nervous wreck - imagine his trepidation given the lakeside stragglers who have come to watch. He is at ease with following Telavi's commands; it's already been four months since they started this journey, and the greenrider is as familiar as the rest of the Weyr. "Yeah, I'll just.." His words are followed by a grimace as he uses the riding straps to pull himself up and onto Zmeyth. There, they look prepared, or as prepared as they're going to be, with how much anxiety V'ros has over the initial manned flight phase. Fog creeps in from all sides, bringing with it a musty, dank smell and the rush of chill air. « Solith, » he greets with undeterred brashness. « We're here to show you what we've got. » (To Solith from Zmeyth) Perhaps not all sides-- could even Zmeyth surround her thus? The chill's refreshing on such a hot day, though, and so Solith turns to encourage it to touch here, and here. If only it didn't smell! « I will witness! » With the words comes her sense of rightness, of dragon and rider doing what they were meant all along to do. (To Zmeyth from Solith) Telavi smiles at him by way of encouragement and otherwise stays comfortable as Solith looks more closely at Zmeyth; the greenrider's reviewed his straps enough times, including earlier that day, not to do it again... but a visual check that he's buckled in, that doesn't go amiss. "By the way, did I say-- actually, let's not think about that right now," she interrupts herself. "Just hang on and let him do what he's practiced, you'll be fine. Stay nice and low!" The audience has seen this part before, but there are a couple of aunties murmuring to the children to look, look, this is their first time. It's special. With that, Telavi gives the signal. Zmeyth is a stony figure, posed just so for all the world to see. This is his show - this one, with the people, and the flying, and his rider - and he's keen to give them what they came for. Nevermind the intrepid V'ros, hanging onto the straps like it's his last thread binding him to the world; why do they need riders again? Already pale skin goes paler, white, as the realization of the moment sinks in and doesn't lift. "Telavi," he stutters just as she gives the signal. Zmeyth takes to the air like a shot, shooting out over the water with speed and little mindfulness. It isn't long before he starts to wobble mid-air, unbalanced by the added weight. And V'ros is still there, clinging, for now. Spotting it, "Time to land!" Telavi shouts upward, Solith happy to be helpful and echo her; the greenrider doesn't seem to be particularly concerned for V'ros-- that's what straps are for-- unless Zmeyth's not, "Careful!" Everyone on the lakeshore better scatter, because Zmeyth comes in for a rocky landing, half in the shallows and half on the sandy beach. His rumble is one of frustration - disappointment, even. Why is this so much harder than solo flying? V'ros is still pale, clinging, but the I'm-about-to-die emotion has fled from his eyes.. for now. He turns his head, seeking out the greenrider for affirmation. They scatter, definitely, to the tune of equally scattered applause, though a couple risk-takers had sneaked so close that they also got splashed. Telavi mutters something about survival instincts and their lack, but Solith is bright-spirited enough for all four of them as she bounds over; Zmeyth and his rider did it, after all! She's also bright-spirited enough for Tela to roll her eyes, but then she grins at V'ros. "You made it! Want to throw up, or are you good? It just gets easier from here." Probably she means flying... but possibly throwing up, too. Applause is guaranteed, for Zmeyth is so striking! "I have to.." V'ros looks down, from his position on Zmeyth's neck, and shudders. "How many more times?" Which is just a silly question, really, because the rest of the month is a manned flight fest; not to mention he's a dragonrider from now on out. He is too busy being terrified of going back up in the air to notice the bystanders, but Zmeyth is still putting on a show, fanning out his wings, standing at an appropriately flattering angle. "Zmeyth," V'ros grits, glowering at the head attached to the regally-long neck. "Until you die," Telavi says cheerfully. "Or did you mean just for today?" Solith's no help with Zmeyth, what with how she's crooning encouragement of all that showing off; Tela presses her knees into the green's neck but doesn't roll her eyes this time. More important: "Say, V'ros, do you get stomach upsets," that again, "when you fly on other dragons too, or just yours? It's a real question, I promise." Until you die. Alarm flashes across V'ros's face, though it melts into a calmer mien the more Telavi talks. He presses knuckles into the side of Zmeyth's hide, applying pressure whereas words simply won't get the brown's attention. He'll stop posturing to turn back towards the lake, allowing his rider a better view of the greenrider and Solith. "I get them," he murmurs, his mouth twisting to the right, "All the time. I've never.. I don't.. have never really 'liked'.." a look at Zmeyth and a sigh. "Riding them." Shameful admission, it is. Uh oh. That's Telavi's expression, right there, wide eyes and barely-not-rounded mouth as Solith pads closer. "Who Searched you?" she asks. "Or did you ask to Stand? I didn't much like flying on her either, at first," she can admit now, though not so loudly to let the audience listen in. "But it got better. Maybe yours will too." She darts a glance at Zmeyth. "He should help, you know." "Lythronath," V'ros mumbles, though she might have to listen hard to hear. "Maybe." But he gives her the do-you-really-think-Zmeyth-is-going-to-help stare. True to character the brown is too busy following the rapid movements of some weyrbrats darting among the onlookers. "I'll just.. have to practice. That's all. It will come. It has to come." He exhales loudly, passing baleful eyes downward as Zmeyth walks to the starting point. "Again." And they do it again, with an easier landing but less air time. "That looked... better," Telavi offers once they have landed again; she'd earlier wrinkled her nose at the mention of Lythronath, but just for a moment, no more. "Lots and lots of practice. It took us forever, but look at us now." This isn't the time or place for her to suggest that Zmeyth might do well to remember that he'll look better if V'ros looks better, and that Zmeyth's flying more considerately can help V'ros look better; that's for a sevenday later if they still haven't improved enough, where there aren't so many other ears. Now she only says, "Try it a couple more times, and then you're free to go back to the barracks. You won't have elevator duty too soon, we want the two of you solid first." If possible. "Better," the weyrling echoes, hollowly, but he'll follow as she says and have Zmeyth go back to the start. They try it another two times - one wobbly and one more solid - with decent results; by the end, V'ros definitely looks like he needs to puke. Somewhere. So he rushes through the buckles and the straps, sliding down. His feet hit the ground at almost the same time his lunch comes up. Zmeyth is having none of it. By the last retch, he's already ambling some distance away to launch himself into the air. "Shit," V'ros breathes, shaking his head and wiping a hand across his mouth. And it was going 'so well'. Telavi sighs, she does, and just looks at the weyrling. It's not like he can't find his own way back to th barracks. But Solith nudges her knee, and after a couple moments she dismounts to encourage him to kick sand over his mess and head back to the barracks. She'll commiserate along the way, though she also brings up how her friend fell off and broke her arm their first time... which may not necessarily help. |
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