Logs:Bonding Over Broken Dragons
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| RL Date: 6 June, 2014 |
| Who: K'del, K'zin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Two broken bronzes mean two tired and bored riders. They play catch-up. |
| Where: Dragon Infirmary and Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 13, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ali/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, F'manis/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Kasey/Mentions, Madilla/Mentions, Nikalas/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions, Zianarius/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. |
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| It's been a couple of days, now. Cadejoth's restlessness and desire to roam is a near-tangible force in the Weyr: he's tangled in his own chains, inclined to the occasional restless howl. He won't be kept to the dragon infirmary for his entire recovery period, but for now he's still under observation, and K'del is spending most of his time there in an attempt to keep his dragon company. This afternoon, he's taken over a table, hunched forward to work through another set of reports as his dragon fitfully dozes beside him; it's unlikely Cadejoth, to sleep this much. But what else is he supposed to do? Cadejoth isn't the only bronze hanging out in the dragon infirmary in the wake of Hraedhyth's flight; Rasavyth with his self-inflicted wing strain is there too. Maybe it's a good sign that he's still here and not moved to a ground weyr, or maybe the dragonhealers of 'Reaches are still talking with those at Telgar to decide what to do from here. It could be that he's just not a priority right now. K'zin, likely, hasn't wanted to intrude, or maybe just hasn't found a good time, but now seems as good a time as he might get, so he approaches, "How's he doing?" is offered in lieu of a more formal greeting, K'zin's lips curling a touch at the edges in a reserved smile. No doubt K'del has noted the presence of K'zin and his dragon, these past few days, but he's been pretty wrapped up in himself - or, rather, in Cadejoth, in his stream of visitors, and in work. Blue eyes lift from the report that he's been reading - 'reading' - for the past few minutes at least, studying the other bronzerider with a weary, sleep-deprived air about him. "He's restless," is the answer that comes, then, suggesting a sigh without actually providing one. "Hraedhyth helps, but... he's not a dragon built to sit still. How's Rasavyth?" "Sounds rough." There's empathy there. "At least Ras didn't want to move much." The younger bronzerider's eyes cast back towards where Rasavyth is settled, appearing asleep, but he, too, has slept much and may now simply be feigning so as not to be bothered by some prodding healer or another. "He's frustrated. Annoyed that I can call him an idiot and be right for once." K'zin's smile as it turns back to K'del is both wry and touched with sadness. His eyes go to the reports then back to the Weyrleader, "Think you'd like to take a break? Get some fresh air?" That, at least, brings a smile to K'del's face; he chuckles. "Imagine that: even the mighty Rasavyth can be wrong sometimes." His gaze wanders past K'zin, out across the infirmary, where it lingers for a moment upon that other bronze, and then seeks the yawning exit to the bowl. "Guess I could do that," he allows. "Not making much headway at the moment, anyway. It's hard; he keeps tangling up my thoughts." Stupid mental chains. "And Ali's just about due, and it's... frustrating, not being there." "Feels good, like the universe has some sense of balance again." K'zin responds with a smirk. It's fine that he enjoys this; Faranth only knows how Rasavyth delights in K'zin's idiotic moments. "Don't have to," the brunette offers, "Just thought a change of scenery would probably do us both some good, for however short a time. Smells like numbweed in here." His nose wrinkles. At least it's made numbweed and not as bad as when it's being boiled. Ugh. He moves a hand to gesture toward the outside world; surely they won't be long given the winter weather. "I can't imagine," because he's not a father, "but I'd think it was beyond frustrating. Will Cadejoth be comfortable letting you go to her when it's time?" K'del stands, reaching for the jacket that's draped over the back of his chair: clearly, he's keen to get outside. "Hate infirmaries," he admits, with a shudder. "The smell. The... sterility." His gaze flicks back towards K'zin, acknowledging without words that he has spent rather more time in them than K'del. "He'll let me. He'll hate it - he's always hated me doing things without him - but it's important. Hopefully Hraedhyth will help keep him occupied." The jacket is thrown over his shoulders; he then takes a few steps forward, towards the exit. Rasavyth's wallow is on the way out, so K'zin detours briefly to snag up his winter coat and bright red mittens, hat and scarf. "Me too. More now than before. If Madilla thought she had a chance of me coming in when I get a cold before, any hope is long gone now." Probably not really, but he's certainly spent too much time in them this turn. "I imagine it's had for Hraedhyth, too, to have to be gentle with him. She has always been very--" K'zin trails off because what's the word? He can't seem to find it, so he simply says, "She likes to lick them." Among other things. Anyway. "I wish we could offer to take you. It's the least we could do for Ali." And K'del, too, of course. "Congratulations, by the way. I heard you were the favorite when I was in Telgar. Glad he caught her." K'del's huff of air is close to a snort for K'zin's reference to Madilla, but he holds off actual comment. Instead, digging his hands into the pockets of his coat as he waits for the other bronzerider to be ready, he lands upon, "Thanks. I mean... it's what we wanted. Not like this, of course, but... pretty sure Cadejoth would be impossible if he'd not caught her, and was still injured." It's cold outdoors, and despite his coat K'del shivers on the way out - but at least the air is clean and fresh. "How long before Rasavyth's back in the air?" "So that's something, anyway." Winner, but injured. K'zin resists the shiver, maybe he missed the winters of home. There's an invigorated smile though it tempers quickly at the question. "They're still making up their minds, sir," because now it's his weyrleader he's speaking to. "He wasn't finished with the course of physical therapy they'd wanted at Telgar and I'm given to understand they're pretty displeased by what he did. The strain will take a few sevens at least and then they're hoping, I think, to have him start trying short flights to build his strength up since the sail seems to have mended alright. What would you like me to do 'til then?" 'Something'. K'del nods, just once, his gaze turned away so that he can stare out over the bowl, towards the lake, perhaps, and the craggy wall beyond. It's the 'sir' that drags his attention back, and has his shoulders straightening, too. "It's a pity we've no eggs on the sands just yet," he says, after a moment. "Or I'd get you to help instruct them into what can happen when you're a dragonrider, good and bad. Is there something you'd like to work on? Sadly, we've no weyrlings, either." K'zin scuffs a toe at the frozen ground. "It's probably for the best, really. I get the feeling I'm not a very good helper." The younger man reaches up to adjust his hat. "Some of the weyrlings there started betweening not too long ago. I can't be sure, of course, but I'm thinking the giant painted letters that says 'K'zin sucks' on my weyr walls isn't a glowing review. It could be a woman-- or women here, but that's an awfully long time to hold a grudge." His shoulders rise and fall in a dismissive shrug. Then, "I could help with the Smiths here. But that doesn't really help me get back into things here. I could help you with your hide work," that's suggested with another amused look; he's probably kidding. "Will I be in Taiga still when Ras is ready to fly again?" His brow creases with some concern. "Ah," says K'del, keeping his tone and expression neutral. "Well then." He walks a few paces, booted feet crunching in the snow, and then swings around to glance at K'zin again. "Unless you don't want to be," he says, then. "That's F'manis' call, not mine, but I can't see any reason he'd not want you back. You might like to talk to him, see if there's something you can do to help him." "If it's any consolation, I hear the Weyrlingmaster at Telgar is sorry to have me gone; so at least I didn't suck on all fronts." Hopefully that's a good performance review. "Still probably if it evens out, I'd best stay away from trying to teach weyrlings things, in a formal capacity, anyway." K'zin gives a nod to that. "I'll speak to him." His lips are pursed slightly and then he simply nods. "I won't keep you then, sir." Lots of reports to get back to and all, even if K'zin's move to actually go back inside is a little awkward. K'del's brows furrow. "K'zin," he says, letting it hang there for a few moments. "Can't we spend five minutes talking as two men, rather than it immediately devolving down to..." His hand waves. This, whatever 'this' is. "Chances are, I'm not even going to be flying in Taiga, once we're allowed to again. It's not my call to say where you'll be again, except that I have no intention of having you moved." K'zin stops, hands finding their way into his pockets, eyes floating from ground up to the older man's face. "Sure. I guess. I mean, sorry. I didn't mean to--" He shakes his head. Do 'this.' Whatever 'this' is. He's silent a long moment. "Have you... been well otherwise?" He rocks onto his toes and back onto his heels. Maybe it's been so long since they've talked as just two men that he doesn't really know where to start. Despite starting this, K'del doesn't seem to know what to say, either-- he sighs, closing his eyes and tipping his face up to the light snowfall. "Know you didn't. It's always going to be weird, isn't it? Things." His eyes open again, and he turns his gaze back towards the other rider. "You know. Busy. Visiting Southern. Trying to get Azaylia to trust me. Reminding my boys that they're too young to ask to Stand." "They-" K'zin starts and then stops, frowning a little. "They probably don't have to be. It's probably my fault, really. It's pretty weird to start looking to your boss as your dad when you're entirely too old for that sort of thing just because you have father issues." No doubt K'zin has spent too long on the figurative couch with Rasavyth analyzing him for his weakness-er, motivations. He takes a breath. "Maybe if we just sort of start over. Just two men that get along. Mostly." For the moment, he lets the rest stand, not forgotten but not the most important thing at this moment. The left corner of K'del's mouth turns up as he acknowledges, "Yeah. Guess that... kind of messed things up a bit. I-- sure. Let's do that. Friends, rather than... all the rest of it. Wingmates... former wingmates, maybe. Whatever it is. When we're working, I'll still be your boss' boss, but... I'm also just K'del." That's enough to make K'zin grin. "Sounds good, K'del." He even raises his brows. "If you need someone to be a bad-- I mean, good influence on your boys though, I'm still glad to perform that service. I think I'm better with your kids than weyrlings." Who apparently think he sucks. He's joking, mostly, the grin is still there, sort of goofy now. "I promise I won't suggest to them that if they sneak onto the hatching sands, they might Impress anyway." He's definitely joking. Right? His jovial expression fades a little as he says with an exhale. "Getting Azaylia to trust you... that's tough. Once upon a time I might've been able to give you good advice, but we don't see anything of one another anymore. Don't really know what happened. I know she didn't like me bringing Lady Ienavi's proposal to her, and I guess I shouldn't've done it on a date, but..." But. He shrugs. "Maybe consistency will do it for you. Not that you've been anything but." That he knows of, anyway. "How is Ali doing anyway? Pleased about the baby? And the transfer?" K'del raises his eyebrows - and then begins to laugh. No doubt his boys will be in good hands. "They'll love you forever," he comments. "It'll be terrifying." His expression, too, turns more solemn after that. "She says she doesn't trust anyone, now," he explains. "And... it's not that I can't understand. But it's hard. Hard to co-lead with someone who doesn't trust you; especially hard when you remember a time when you were good friends." He doesn't comment on K'zin's mistake, though perhaps the quirked eyebrow that appeared when it was mentioned is comment enough. "Ali's well. Looking forward to the baby being here, and probably to Isyath rising and that being sorted, too. Though that's... well. Flights." "What can I say, I'm a loveable guy." K'zin manages this with a straight face, but then that's enough of that and he's letting his expression becomes a little more lively, though there's no smile for the trust troubles. "I can imagine. It sounds really tough. Always hard when what is isn't what was, or at least when it's not as good. What happened to make you not friends? Or shouldn't I ask?" The smile comes back for Ali, "I bet. Being pregnant doesn't look like it's any fun at all," wisdom from the young, single, and childless. "I promise we won't be there." This is meant to be funny, surely. "Really, the longer we can avoid mating flights the better as far as I'm concerned. They've been nothing but trouble lately." Let's see, gold flight he wasn't supposed to be at followed by gold flight that was K'del's babymomma, followed by a green flight that got them stuck in Telgar for months and months; yep, bad luck indeed. K'del exhales, rolling his shoulders back as he does so. "It's... a long story. Not really straightforward, either. In part, she didn't like that I let Cadejoth chase Isyath, way back when. Because if he'd caught and then not been available to catch Hraedhyth... but it's more complicated than that. Things got pretty fucked up for me after Iolene died." Died. Was murdered. You know. That. He lets out a huff of air that could be a laugh, but isn't quite. "No dragon has ever caught Isyath twice, so you'd probably be safe," he comments. "But I totally get that. Flights can be..." His glance is aimed back towards the dragon infirmary. Flights can be dangerous. K'zin's expression seems to appreciate things about Iolene's death more than when K'del's mentioned it before. Perhaps because now his father has died, so he knows something of death. Or perhaps because he has someone for whom he cares? Or maybe he's just not a kid anymore. "Everything in life gets complicated if you give it long enough." His tone is serious, "Sometimes the history of a thing or a relationship sheds light on the answers for tomorrow. And sometimes, it just doesn't matter." The bronzerider concludes, shrugging his shoulders. This is likely to say that he won't press K'del to try to untangle all the details here and now. "Flights," is his only agreement for that with a grimace. Then, brighter, "I brought you a deck of dragonpoker cards that the dragonhealers most definitely won't approve of and that your boys will look to steal card by card in a couple turns," which should give K'del an idea of just how these are decorated. "What say I let you get back to work and later, when there're fewer healers to tutter disapprovingly, we play a few hands with a bottle of whiskey to help us?" They're stuck in the infirmary; what else is there to do? To those first remarks, K'del can only nod, his seriousness enhanced by his deep inhale and the exhale that follows it. Seriousness, however, is largely abandoned at mention of those cards: he begins to laugh. "Oh shells," he says. "That sounds amazing. Yes, let's do that. The whiskey'll help Cadejoth calm down, too, and... everyone goes home happy." Win! |
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