Logs:Of Disturbing Influences
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| RL Date: 6 July, 2006 |
| Who: Balinne, Kailai, M'wen, R'hin, Reighley |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 11, Month 4, Turn 8 (Interval 10) |
| Your location's current time: 16:32 on day 11, month 4, Turn 58, of the Tenth Pass. It is a spring afternoon. You swoop down to a landing at the lake shore. You clamber down Leiventh's side to the ground, as the dragon warbles a greeting. Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr This shoreline marks the edge of the freshwater lake that fills the southeastern portion of the bowl. The gritty dirt of the bowl gives way to smooth sand. Across the lake, the bowl wall rises high into the sky, its face dotted with weyr entrances. A few dragonlengths above the water, glimpses of a level cliff can be seen amidst boulders lining the edge. Just south of here, a smaller pond of water is divided from the main lake by a natural bridge of land. A path leads across the bridge and up to the diving cliffs, winding through a dotting of small boulders on its way. The afternoon is clear and the sun shines brightly. There is a strong wind that chops the lake's surface. Contents: Leiventh M'wen Obvious exits: LAke Pond Diving Cliff Bowl Taking full advantage of the sunlight shining through the thin covering of clouds over the seven spindles of the High Reaches. Sitting on a flattened boulder, facing out across the lake with an unreadable expression on his face, and the wind blowing through his short hair, making it ripple with the gusts. M'wen occasionally looks up at the sun, a hand shading his eye's against its weaker rays of the late afternoon. Seeing a familiar bronze dragon circling in towards him, he swivels slightly, awaiting R'hins arrival. From high on the ball wall, far above the lake, a large dark shape drops off one of the many ledges. It circles slowly, drifting downwards in no great hurry, slowly resolving itself into the familiar colors of Leiventh. The bronze seems to spend more time in the air over the lake - one of his favored places - before finally landing with a backwing and rush of air on the lakeshore. R'hin, sliding off a second after the hook-nosed bronze's wings fold back, hits the ground with a thud, making his way towards the lake's edge due, no doubt, to the fact that his face and hands are covered in a coating of dust. A small towel is slung over one shoulder as he bends by the water's edge. Although he's noted M'wen, he seems to be giving the brownrider a momentary reprieve, allowing the silence to continue unbroken. M'wen glances briefly at the Bronze-rider, eye's slightly squinted from the glare created by the low angle of the sun, nodding ever so slightly, turning back to look at the lake, just enjoying the view. His tunic is open at the top, despite the slight chill to the air which is residule most of the year in the 'Reaches, and a slight tan is visible. Eye's closed in thought, and mouth slightly moving to unheard comments, he seems to be planning something, unbeknownst as to the motive behind it. The nod is returned in kind, R'hin bending over the water to splash water over his hands and face, teeth gritted against the chill of the lake. Some of the water is slicked through his hair, as well, and eventually he straightens, tugging the towel off his shoulder before running it over his face. Walking over, he rests a foot on his boulder, eyeing M'wen openly. "Did you enjoy the trip to Ista?" he asks, eventually, head tipped. Regarding the weyrling before him, M'wen waits for R'hin to say something. "I daresay it was a beautiful place to visit, but as a permanent residence, I much prefer right where we are. It's barely a third way through the turn, and it was evening. and it was already scorching there, think of what its like mid-turn, must be the opposite of what it is here in winter. You seemed to get along well with Ayana though, so how did you like it?" He asks the last part with a bit of an inclined head, waiting for the response. "But just think of the tan you'd have, all Turn," R'hin counters, though he makes it clear the words are facetious, accompanied by a twitch of lips as it is. He slings the towel over his shoulder once more, hands brush through water-slicked hair, smile twitching. "Mmhmm. She's Bayan's sister - you've met him, have you? He's around the 'Reaches a lot, though apparently taking a layover at Fort for a while." He echoes M'wen's tip of head, though it's hard to tell if it's deliberate or not. "I like the bar. Those weyrlings don't seem very..." he trails off, as if selecting his words carefully, "...ambitious." M'wen smirks slightly at R'hins choice of words, "How many sets of weyrlings have you met though? You've admitted yourself that they are taught to be copies of the previous group and so on, so what makes you think they'd have someone like you to rattle the cage about?" Then giving a slight low chuckle, "Really, all you have to compare them to is our group, and considering your in it, theres enough ambition to last all ten of us." A chuckle turns into a full-throated laugh from the bronzerider, pale eyes glittering with amusement as R'hin agrees, "Oh, good point. Very true. Still, I had hopes--" his shoulders twitch in a muted shrug. He's pleased with the latter comment, seeming to take it as a compliment. "I guess it bothers me how easily people slip into the mold that's been prepared for them. I wonder if people are told a lot more about what goes on, before they Impress..." his lips twist in thought. "But, I think too far ahead," hand makes a sharp cutting gesture, as if stemming that line of thought. "So, any plans for this afternoon?" "Though the bar was nice indeed...a nice warm beach would be nice to have here, but it won't happen I guess." M'wen agrees with the previously said comment. "Plans...plans...Well, me and Maxeoth we gonna fly around for some excercise and practice for the flight show at graduation, and Later this evening I have some errands to run, but for now I have a nice break and am taking full advantage of this unexpected good weather...what about yourself?" he responds, left eyebrow raised slightly, hoping for something more interesting then his own day. R'hin's foot drops from the rock as he saunters closer. "Well, a warm beach is out of the question, but there's something to be said for a bar. Maybe a tavern, even. Somewhere people can eat away from the living caverns, have a quiet meal, or a romantic one," lips twitch. "Something to think about, anyway. Maybe we can st-- borrow more ideas from other places. We should visit some of the Halls and Holds, too-- in the name of learning our visualizations properly, of course." "Learning our visualizations? Of course thats why we make our frequent trips to the nice warmer areas of pern." M'wen chuckles at R'hin's method of suggestion, "There's always places to borrow ideas from....Personally, I liked Igen...they gave us free cookies, we had to pay for our stuff at Ista..." Then with a thoughtful look, "Where do you suggest?" "I suspect Igen was only so gracious because we crashed a mating flight. And even then some of the residents didn't seem too pleased that outsiders were chasing their gold... I'm sure they cheered when one of their bronzes won." R'hin says, his particular 'gift' to see the selfish side of things shining through. Flicking the towel sharply off his shoulder, he looks thoughtful. "Fort or Telgar? Perhaps Fort. Telgar's probably pre-occupied with their clutch on the sands right now." "For once, I can see what your saying...hmm well maybe your right about Telgar too, so I guess Fort it is...When should we go?" M'wen grudging admits the first part, and smiles slightly at the second, waiting for the up and coming answer from R'hin, hoping that Fort had as nice an arrangement going as Ista did. "It's a miracle!" R'hin throws his hands up grandly into the air - and the towel with it - but for all the facetious gestures he seems quite pleased with M'wen's agreement. Catching the towel, he bundles it up, walking towards Leiventh to deposit it into the bronze's saddlebags. Sly grin creeps onto his features, though he keeps his back to the brownrider, voice non-committal, "Whenever you're not busy with your practicing... or your errands... or whatever else you plan to do." "No, -you're- saying now," R'hin adeptly corrects, with a grin that's tossed over his shoulder at his fellow weyrling, "But since it's such a good suggestion, I agree." He closes the saddlebag, straightening. "After you?" A tip of head, as if waiting for the brownrider to lead the way, once more. M'wen gives a slight smile, calling out to Maxeoth who wanders over from the bowl, eye's twirling at a good speed to indicate he's looking forward to a good trip. "Ok, Lets go!" He says, jumping up on his dragons back. Maxeoth tromps over from the eastern side of the bowl. Maxeoth has arrived. M'wen jumps up onto Maxeoth's back, using his straps as handholds. M'wen has left. You jump up onto Leiventh's back, as the dragon rumbles softly. » In the sky directly above, Maxeoth rises up into the sky from the lake shore below. You launch into the sky. You wing upward in the sky. » Maxeoth disappears into Between. » Leiventh disappears into Between. Between You gasp as the icy black nothingness of Between surrounds you! You hear nothing, see nothing, and feel nothing. The trip takes five heartbeats... Contents: Maxeoth Black... Blacker... Blackest! You suddenly emerge... Sky Above Fort Weyr On a clear day, from this height, you can see for miles. Below you, Fort Weyr is spread out in the bowl of the ancient volcano, the jagged "Tooth Crag" dominating the northeast rim. At the end of the southwest corner, you can see where an ancient landslide has upset the Bowl's natural symmetry. Far below you are the Center of the Bowl, the opening to the Lower Caverns, and the Weyrling Barracks. Down to the northeast are the Weyrleader's complex, the Junior Queen's Weyrs, and the Hatching Grounds. To the southwest are the grassy plain of the Feeding Grounds and the shimmer of Fort Weyr's lake. Contents: Maxeoth Obvious exits: Sky Just Outside Fort Weyr Open Sky Southwest Center Northeast » Leiventh emerges from Between with a blast of cold air! You spiral down lower into the bowl. You spiral down to the ground, and backwing to a landing. » M'wen jumps down Maxeoth's side to the ground, the dragon's sparkling eyes watching closely. You clamber down Leiventh's side to the ground, using his straps as handholds. Center of the Fort Weyr Bowl(#200RJ$) The Bowl of Fort Weyr, a large, featureless plain surrounded by steep mountain cliffs, stretches out around you. It is approximately oval in shape, about 2700 meters along the long axis running southwest to northeast, and about half that distance across the short axis. You stand in its approximate center. The soil of the bowl is somewhat sandy. To the northwest is the large cavern used for the Weyrling barracks. To the west is the fenced off area where the Weyr's herds are kept, and the lake shore is to the southwest. To the northeast can be seen the ledges for the junior queens and the weyrleaders. The large entrance to the Hatching Grounds can also be seen to the northeast and to the east are the Lower Caverns. Contents: M'wen Leiventh Maxeoth Obvious exits: Tunnel Infirmary Living Cavern Weyrling Barracks Northeastern Area Lake Shore Feeding Grounds Leiventh follows in his clutchsibling's wake, emerging from between a split second after Maxeoth, and following the brown down in a sharp spiral to the ground. R'hin remains on the bronze's back for a moment after they land, divesting himself of helmet and gloves, dropping over the side before setting his flying gear into the dragon's saddlebags. "Somehow," he says, in a low voice, "I thought it'd be more impressive. You know, being the -first-." His tone has a hint of humor to it, as pale eyes rove around the bowl. Kailai comes up from the lake shore. Kailai has arrived. Kailai is looking around her, standing at her hide, eyes roving the bowl and her brush poised over the leather she's painting for somebody's wall. "A panorama of the bowl they want, a panorama of the bowl they'll get." She mutters as she peers around her, searching for a subject to paint. Maxeoth lands with a slight puff of dust, his rider sliding off to the floor of the bowl, placing his flying gear in the riding straps. "You'd think that, wouldn't you...if anything it's -less- impressive then the 'Reaches, but probably shouldn't say that to anybody who lives here's face.." Walking over towards R'hin, looking around aimlessly, "So...where to?" R'hin tucks his hands in his pockets, more out of habit than any deference to the weather. "We've the spires," the bronzerider says by way of agreement. Lips purse as he looks about, head tipping towards the entrance to the caverns. "That looks like the way in, but.." he trails off, eyes focusing on Kailai for a moment with a grin. "Why don't we ask one of the locals?" Without waiting for agreement, he begins strolling in the woman's direction. "High Reaches' duties to Fort," he says by way of greeting, voice lifting. Kailai nods and sets down her brush. "Evening gentlemen, anything I can do for you?" She asks as she sets down the thin and chipped old plate she's using as a pallet. She steps aside from the half finished work of the bowl and archs an eyebrow. "I'm Kailai, scribe, although I prefer painting as a better medium." "'Reaches duties..." M'wen mumbles, though louder then normal for him, following after R'hin, "We're wondering where and how to get to the Living caverns, considering the fact we've never been here before, and it seems R'hin has taken it upon himself to ask for help, so...would you mind giving us that help? Or should we wonder aimlessly?" R'hin seems momentarily more interested in Kailai's work than the woman herself; he steps around, uninvited, to view her painting with a surprised twitch of brows. "You'd get a better view from the star stones," he says, after a moment, before manners kick in - belatedly - and he says, "R'hin, bronze Leiventh's." A sharp gesture of hand indicates the dragon in question behind him. An expectant look is given towards M'wen, as if waiting - after last time, he's not going to introduce his fellow 'Reachian for him. Kailai nods to R'hin and M'wen. "Well, I wanted groundlevel." She points out. "I don't fancy pulling some rider away from work. Besides, the dragons look bigger from groundlevel, more detail than if you were watching them from the stones." She eyes M'wen expectantly. "The living caverns, that way." she points. "Just follow your noses. Although I heard something about a numbweed boil soon, not today thankfully." "Ahh, Thank you very much, we'll probably be heading there shortly, I'm M'wen with brown Maxeoth," gesturing towards the brown dragon behind him. "That's quite the picture your doing there, looks nice...", He then gives a quick, almost inperceptable nod to R'hin, for reason its hard to tell. "I suppose it depends on what your focus is. Dragons, hmm?" R'hin's brows flicker upwards with just a hint of smile, flickering towards M'wen, before returning to the woman. "Actually," he interposes with a rise of hand, "We're kind of interested in what makes Fort unique. We've seen living caverns before. What makes Fort, -Fort-?" he tips his head, intent, pale eyes focused on Kailai as he waits for the response. Kailai nods and smiles at the two riders. "Thanks. It's about halfway finished." She explains. "You know, I heard about a rockfall that covered a portion of the bowl wall. I haven't gotten to have a close look at it yet. It's very old." She tells R'hin. "If I had a miner's knot, I'd take a closer look and try to dig, see what I can find. But I don't, so I don't." "I hate to be cynical, but being old isn't really something that would make me choose a place over another, and is so far, one of the worse claim's to fame I've seen so far on our -tour-...What would you say R'hin?", He looks a bit split between regret at his harsh words, and interest in R'hin's response. High above the bowl, Zelieth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air! The Watch Dragon announces the arrival of Green Zelieth and Balinne from Ista Weyr. Above the center of the bowl, Zelieth spirals down towards the Center of the bowl, and backwings to a landing. Zelieth has arrived. R'hin pauses for a significant three heatbeats - no coincidence. Blandly, he replies, "A rockfall? That's... all? Well, that's... we'll be sure to take a look before we leave." Another look is given M'wen, this time with a flicker of brows, that bursts suddenly into full-throated laughter at M'wen's words. "Shards, M'wen. I think you're spending far too much time with me." He continues to chuckle, clearly amused. "That said, you might be right. So, rockfall. Anything else?" another glance to Kailai. Zelieth spirals downwards, showing off as usual. With a tip of her wingspars, she sends herself into a dizzying spiral that ends abruptly with her haunches under her, as she lands. Atop her neck, Balinne is thrown forwards, and a muffled 'oof' might be heard. Kailai sighs to the two men. "I've only been here a couple of months boys... wait... I remember that there's a carving on the wall of the hatching grounds. Strangest design I've ever seen. Its a series of rings and dots, and nothing I've found in the archives will tell me what it is. Its a strange sort of thing." She takes the handle of her brush and bends down to draw it in the Earth. There's barely any movement from the 'Reachian bronze, though Leiventh does seem to follow the Istan green's decent with mild interest, a low, rumbling greeting given Zelieth when she lands. R'hin still has that lingering sense of amusement about him, eyes glittering briefly as he glances over towards the arriving green, looking away when he doesn't recognize her. "Mm. A carving?" He says it in that same, bland tone that seems to indicate he's making an effort to be diplomatic, stepping a little closer to examine the Fortian's depiction over her shoulder. "Even in a couple of months, I'd think you could find something more compelling than that." Balinne climbs down from Zelieth's neck. Balinne has arrived. Balinne swings her leg over, and quickly shimmies down her green's side. She lands with a thump, and quickly turns to pat her lifemate's inquisitive nose. The green eyes both 'Reachian dragons with mild interest, and quickly arranges her wings and neck 'just-so', striking her favorit pose. The istan Weyrling shakes her head, and moves forwards, clutching her jacket around her. "Hello!" she calls towards the trio, jogging forwards. "Erm," and she eyes their knots, finally landing on Kailai. "Oh, good, you're from here. Ista's duties!" Maxeoth warbles a short greeting to the Istan green, then turns back to the gathering with interest. "Far too much time indeed R'hin...", Then directed back towards Kailai, "Oh, an unidentifiable carvings pretty neat, still doesn't quite match the 'Reaches spindles or the Istan bar, but better then just being old." He actually is interested, but it is slightly exagurated to make up for his previous tactless comment. R'hin's boots scuff slightly in the dirt as he shifts to better examine Kailai's depiction with half-hearted interest. Finally, his gaze lifts and trails over Balinne fairly obviously, taking her the knot with slightly more interest. "Another Istan weyrling. You folks get around," he remarks, a pointedly significant look given M'wen, that turns into a faint chuckle at his comment. Leiventh> Maxeoth senses that Leiventh's tones are crimson and bass - his usual colors, passing on the thought without much interest, « Mine thinks it interesting that the Istans are given more freedom more rapidly than us, yet still conform so willingly. » Kailai glares at M'wen. "You need to learn not to insult the place somebody lives rider. Good evening to you both. Enjoy your stay." She glares as she edges off towards the living cavern. Kailai has disconnected. Balinne looks startled towards R'hin. "What?" she asks, peering down at her own knot. "Who've you seen?" she asks, tilting her head to the side. The petite woman looks completely out of place (and very cold) in her Istan-garb. Apparently she's not fond of riding leathers. She does pull off her helmet, and give her rusty curls a good ruffle with her fingers. "Oh, um.. bye?" she states to the departing Kailai, looking even /more/ like a lost little puppy now. With a hopeless expression, she asks, "Either of you know a... oh lizard wings, I forgot his name already!" M'wen looks up with interest at the arriving Istan weyrling, looking horribly tempted to say he doesn't know any 'oh lizard wings', but manages to keep it in. Muttering softly to himself, "Far to much indeed...", he turns back to the Istan before them, "I'm sorry, we have no clue where much is ourselves, being from the 'Reaches and all, and it seems I offended the only person from Fort around here, so...um...sorry we can't be of more help." R'hin is, for a moment, dumbfounded, staring after Kailai's abrupt departure with a open mouth. It snaps shut as he glances back to M'wen, astonishment turning to bubbling amusement. "Oh-ho, M'wen!" he claps his hands together gleefully, "I can't believe you beat me to that! I think we'd best spend a few days apart after this, or next thing you know, you'll be mouthing off to S'din and getting laps as a reward." Deliberately, his boot kicks over the drawing Kailai made, before focusing on Balinne with a grin. "Jazra came to the 'Reaches a little while back... and we met Moyra and K'ylon at Ista the other day. I believe I offended Moyra considerably. She was wiggling her finger at me like I was an errant boy." Balinne quirks a small grin, and bobs her head. "That sounds like a considerably offended Moyra, to me. And you met K'ylon?" she stiffles a bit of a choking laugh at that, and adds, "Bet he liked you, if you didn't offend him as well." And then her humor is transformed into something of a business like nature, and she sighs. "Well, then, I guess I'm stuck with a package unless /someone/ knows their way around this freezing Bowl." Zelieth rumbles unhappily, and goes to curl herself up in the sun. Leiventh and Maxeoth sense that Zelieth murmers in, testing the waters as it were, and asks as politely as she can muster, « How is it you surivive in such a fridgid place as this? Or Reaches? » Leiventh> Maxeoth and Zelieth sense that Leiventh's tones are crimson splashes and deep bass, present but musing quietly for a moment or two before responding, « The sun is always warm, » he says, « And it is not as cold as between. » "K'ylon didn't seem to have much to say while I was there...But I had to go back and do some chores for our AWLM, so, knowing R'hin" M'wen gestures at the scruffy haired weyrling beside him, "I wouldn't be surprised if he offended the lot of them." With a sort of pitying grin, directed ar Balinne "I'm sorry we don't know our way around here at all, first visit and all, you know...but I'm sure someone who knows their way around will be out here...sometime..." "I think he felt obliged to defend Moyra." R'hin says by way of answer to Balinne's comment. "I'm R'hin, Leiventh's, by the way," he adds smoothly. "And... why would K'ylon like me?" He spreads his hands a little helplessly, answering, "I know the way to the living caverns if that helps - that's about all we got out of the poor Fortian before M'wen insulted her Weyr," he seems all too happy to remind his fellow 'Reachian of that, if the little shift of feet - almost a jig - is anything to go by. He accepts M'wen's criticism gracefully, with an allowing twitch of lips, not bothering to protest. Reighley has arrived. Balinne runs a hand through her hair once more, eyeing the Weyr with speculative eyes. "Hm. Depending on when you visited, he probably had good reason to keep his mouth shut," she mentions, but keeps the reason to herself. She scales the cliff walls with her eyes, and hmms softly. "Oh, probably because he's usually the offender of Moyra," she answers, grinning towards R'hin. "At least he seems to like making her mad." The petite greenrider, quirks her mouth into a grim smile, and looks towards the gaping entrance into the Caverns. "I think I can find that as well. It's really not a problem, I'm in no hurry to return home." She eyes both Reachian riders skeptically, and hmms to herself. M'wen looks wide-eyed at R'hin in mock surprise, "Wow, I'm surprised the two of you didn't get along right off the bat....he didn't seem the type though.." Then with a raised eyebrow, "Are you sure were talking about the same person here? From what I saw, he didn't seem the type at all." Then adding as R'hin had, "Oh and I'm M'wen, Brown Maxeoth's." Balinne murmers, as an afterthought, "Balinne, green Zelieth's." Leiventh and Maxeoth sense that Zelieth hmphs slightly, and projects fuzzy pictures of sun and black sand. « The sun might be warm, but nothing compares to the beaches of Ista. » homeland pride? "Ah," R'hin breathes, knowingly, "She seemed too readily touchy. Now I know why." He tips his head abruptly towards Balinne, as if thanking her for the information. "No hurry?" he echoes the Istan greenrider, "When you've a lovely beach and a bar to entertain you? As opposed to a rockfall and a carving?" Disbelief threads his tone, though there's a hint in the jaunt of his head that the words have a touch of facetiousness to them. To M'wen's comment, he simply adds, "He seemed a tad reticent, really." The skeptical look from Balinne is met with an easy smile from the bronzerider. The arrival of visiting dragons has attracted the attention of at least a few weyrbrats, a small cluster of older boys and girls that peek at the trio from a safe distance. There seems to be some debate among them over the three weyrlings, but finally it's one younger girl who, with a roll of her eyes, detaches herself from the group and marches right up to them. Only then does her courage fail her, as Reighley hesitates just to one side of Balinne, M'wen, and R'hin before voicing a meek, "Um. Excuse me?" Balinne opens her mouth as if to say something, but it's halted by the weyrbrat's arrival. She turns smiling brown eyes upon the native, and seems to sigh in relief at her appearance. "Yes?" she asks, though she throws in a soft, "Ista's duties," as way of greeting. "As I said," she continues towards R'hin, "Depending on when you were there, he probably had good reason not to be up to his old antics." Sensing that the Istan probably hasn't told them what what it was for a reason, M'wen checks himself, and doesn't ask, but it can easily be seen he's itching to find out. Then thinking of something else to say, "Well see? I told you someone would come that knows where they're going in this place...that'll probably make delivering your package easier..." Leiventh> Maxeoth and Zelieth sense that Leiventh seems to take the Istan's words in stride, given there's barely any alteration in his mindcolors as he queries, « Have you been everywhere on Pern? Mine and Maxeoth's are doing that. Then they can say with authority that the 'Reaches is the best place to be. » "Yesterday," R'hin supplies to Balinne, obviously intrigued by the reason, if the speculative look is anything to go by. "Whatever it was must've cowed him something fierce, since he seemed nothing like the person you described." Only belatedly does the meek voice of the Fortian girl attract his attention, with a puzzled look over, then down. "High Reaches' duties," he adds, on the heels of the Istan's greeting. There's faint bemusement on his part as his eyes drift past towards the cluster of weyrbrats, before returning expectantly towards Reighley. No pressure there, no sir. Leiventh and Maxeoth sense that Zelieth replies instride, « If you have been to Ista, then you have not opened your eyes. If you had done so, you would /clearly/ see it for the jewel of Pern that it is. » She's positively brimming with pride, and doesn't even give a flicker of a thought towards the ice and snow of Reaches. "You're from /Ista/?" Reighley asks at once, distracted by those words. "/And/ the Reaches? Oh, wow! Um. Oh, right. Riverside's--I mean, well, Fort's, really--Fort's duties," she decides quickly, offering the riders a small smile. Glancing over her shoulder to where her compatriots are waving encouragingly, she returns attention to current companions and asks, "So, uh. We were--we were wondering just what you're, well, /doing/ here? Packages?" She glances curiously at M'wen for his almost-explanation, waving a hand vaguely to the cluster of weyrbrats watching her curiously. They disband, pell-mell, when R'hin's eyes settle on them, abandoning Reighley to the foreigners' clutches. Leiventh> Maxeoth and Zelieth sense that Leiventh's mentaltones shift, taking on a slightly lighter tone, the words that follow indication that perhaps the bronze's lifemate is the source of the next response, « Mine thinks that Ista was pleasant, but that the shine hid very little substance. » Balinne hmms, somewhat to herself. "Oh, yes, good," and she shuffles around in the two pockets she possesses, finally finding the 'package' she was meant to deliver (little more than two hides folded over each other). "Here, this.. I mean, I'm meant to deliver this." She's a little sheepish, realizing it's not much of a delivery at all. She's amused, and it shows in her arched eyebrows, as she peers upwards towards the weyrbrat. "Yes, I'm from Ista. Is that so weird?" She scratches her nose, and abruptly remembers her package. "Oh, yes, this is for... a bluerider." and then she's guilty looking again, and clearing her throat. "That's what /I'm/ here for. I'd watch your step around those two, however. They seem here to harass the help." She's teasing. Leiventh and Maxeoth sense that Zelieth hmphs, and states matter-of-factly, « Then you did not have a very good guide. » There's a touch of venom in her voice, that she's trying to keep hidden for the moment. « What's so great about your snowy Weyr anyways? » M'wen grins towards the young Fort girl, "Me and R'hin," Gesturing behind him, without looking, hopefully towards the implied person, "Are doing a tour of pern, and today it was Fort's turn. We've been to 4 of the 5 weyr's and then will go to the major holds and halls." He doesn't give the normal duties greeting, considering the age of the person he's talking to, but gives a slight reassuring grin, understanding it -would- be slightly unnerving approaching the three of them. Leiventh> Maxeoth and Zelieth sense that Leiventh considers that a moment, then declares, « Then you must show us otherwise. » He seems to have taken Zelieth's retort as open offer, and accepts accordingly. Another pause, then, oddly poetic: « The snow is entertaining. We can make it fly around with our wings. When we get cold, we can bathe in the hot springs to soothe away the cold, and the sun streams across the seven spindles every morning with warm fingers to waken us gently. » "You can't tell me the illustrious Fort Weyr doesn't regularly receive visitors from other Weyrs?" there's a hint of interest and surprise both in R'hin's sharp response to Reighley, moderated a moment later as he adds, "Have you been at Fort long?" he asks the young girl, shoulders straightening with barely concealed pleasure at the disbanding of the group of weyrbrats. A darted look is given Leiventh, and a twist of lips, before Balinne's comment earns a low chuckle. "Barely an hour into meeting us and she can read us like an open hide. We're in trouble indeed, M'wen." "I've just never been to Ista," admits Reighley, ducking her head sheepishly. "Jenna said it was all hot and rainy there. Which bluerider, though? F'niah? He's the only bluerider I really know, I think. I don't know /that/ many people, but..." Obediently, though, she regards M'wen and R'hin warily, taking a step back from the pair and closer to the smaller greenrider and whatever defense she might provide. "A tour of Pern," she repeats dubiously. "So you're just visiting. We've had lots of--well, no, not /lots/, but I met another guy who was visiting us the other day, at the lake. I don't... I haven't... I've been here long enough," she decides, frowning at R'hin. "A few months now." Balinne grins, her eyes dancing. "Well, it's not F'niah, that's for sure. I believe his name started with a T..." but she doesn't appear to be in much hurry. "Oh, there's rain, and it /is/ a tad warm, but it's also beautiful. You should visit sometime. The beaches are another world entirely, and you can't find flowers like ours anywhere else on Pern." She gives a fleeting glance towards R'hin; perhapes her comments aren't for Reighley alone. She taps her chin thoughtfully, momentarily in her own world. "A tour of Pern sounds fun, but I have more important things to do that dally around other Weyrs." And yet, here she is. As the Fortian takes a step back, R'hin takes a step closer, deliberately matching her retreat, though it's hard to tell whether it's conscious or not. "A few months? Well, that's no help. We need someone who's been here longer. Perhaps we should come back another time?" he says, to M'wen, though his eyes drift towards Balinne, laughter hovering in his expression at her pointed words, hands spreading abruptly as if conceding defeat to some silent challenge. "It's not dallying, it's research. And practice of visualizations, and between." The words have a hint of rote to them, as if he's prepared it for use should anyone question him. "I guess we're living the dream then R'hin, eh?", M'wen says quietly towards his companion. Then louder, directed at Balinne, "Like what for example? Doesn't look like any of the Istan weyrlings do anything but travel aimlessly without and guidance. Well, from what I've seen at least. Sorry if the case is otherwise, but all I've seen is them lazing at the beach bar or -dallying- around pern!" Balinne arches an eyebrow towards the Weyrlings, and grins. "Oh, but see, Istan Weyrlings mature much faster. We've already been cleared to fly unescorted, and are tasked with delivering messages, or passengers. And," this one directed towards R'hin, "We're already practiced at visualizations, and Between. And what, may I ask, are you researching for? Planning to move or something?" Her eyes twinkle, and she's not serious at all in her defense. She scratches at her nose, and gives Reighly an apologetic glance. "Well, maybe we lay around the beach because we've already gotten our work done? Seems like a better past time than laying around in the snow getting frost bit." Reighley wrinkles her nose. "I don't like the rain much," she admits. "And, well, my aunt wouldn't let me, I bet, or she'd make Trei--my brother, Treizen--and the Bad Cousins go with me, and then it wouldn't be any fun. A T, though?" She frowns, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "I don't think I know anybody like that. There's a /lot/ of blueriders, though, so..." She shrugs. The differences between the weyrlings make the girl edge a step away, eyeing all three of them with that same uncertainty now. R'hin gives his fellow 'Reachian a long look, expression a mixture of amusement and puzzlement. "Woah, woah, hold up. Who -are- you, and what have you done with my uptight Wingleader?" he demands, hands clapping together in front of M'wen. A darted look at Balinne, demeanor casual as he answers, "Can never have too much practice. And the research is... shall we say, personal interest." A glitter of eyes at the Istan's comments, as he says, "Lofty claims to make, unless you've gone ice-skating on a frozen lake before, or soaked in our hot springs." Although the flicker of the bronzerider's glance gives indication he's aware of Reighley's sudden discomfort, he makes no moves to dispel it in the slightest. M'wen sighs slightly, his shoulders dropping a bit, "ahh, I'm sorry, I just can't take it when we're accused of lazyness and procrastination, when we've spent the -Entire- day working, as well as pointing out the fact of our uptight WLM who gives us no freedoms whatsoever even considering how close we are to graduation." Balinne taps her chin again, and appears to forgive M'wen. "Well, uptight Weyrlingmasters are like that, though mine's considerably.... nicer?" There's another dangerous glitter in her eye, and quirky grin on her face. "Who needs a hotspring when I've got Ista's pool and garden?" she teases. But she does relent, and mentions idly, "I have been wanting to have a good snow fight." She turns her gaze towards Reighley, and attempts to make herself look more approachable. She doesn't bite, really. "Well, true, rain is no fun. But it doesn't rain all the time. And maybe she'll let you go? Or you could sneak out - not that I condon sneaking around." She pauses, peers at the package, and deturmins, "It's T'erimen? Do you know him?" R'hin sends a guarded look that almost seems to be warning towards M'wen, amusement vanishing in a flash. "It's been a long day," he agrees, voice deliberately even. A light nod is given Balinne, as the 'Reachian murmurs, "Any time you want to visit, you'd be welcome. However, I think I'd best be getting back to the 'Reaches, myself. I've some things to do before dinner. A pleasure to meet you both," the words are offered towards both Balinne and Reighley, and to M'wen, he remarks easily, "I'll see you back at the Weyr." His hands are already reaching to do up his flight jacket as he crosses the bowl towards Leiventh. "Maybe I should..." Reighley begins, turning to glance over her shoulder for her supporters, all of whom have vanished by now. She frowns, glancing sideways back at Balinne. "Maybe," is her dubious answer. "I could... She'd be mad, but Mom would always get over it when we did something like that. I don't think I know him, though. Who is he?" Curiousity dissipates some of her uncertainty, as she edges back toward Balinne, and she only looks at R'hin briefly as he starts to depart. You jump up onto Leiventh's back, using his straps as handholds. You launch into the air. » Leiventh disappears into Between. |
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