Logs:Bribes and Inquiry
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| RL Date: 10 January, 2014 |
| Who: A'rist, Edyis, Lythronath |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| Where: Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 8, Month 10, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: D'kan/Mentions |
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| Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr Eastward, the bowl sprawls on toward the lake, sloping slightly downward to allow runoff from rain and snowmelt, but to the south it's caged by more cliffs of dark, rough-cut granite. Rocks poke up from the ground here, a few large boulders and many smaller outcroppings worn smooth in spots by time and use. A few ground weyr entrances dot the wall, the most frequented ledge set up like a patio while the largest ledge services the Weyrleaders' complex, directly beside the huge entrance to the hatching sands. A more human-sized entrance, left of that, leads to the galleries. The bowl is always busy around supper time; people get hungry, riders come down from weyrs, crafters move from complex to cavern... There's a hubbub, but not so much around Lythronath. Most of the dragons (foolish, oxidised greens aside) know well enough to give him space when he's being made to wait against his will. It could be the general vibe from those dragons giving him space on the bowl, or it could just be the grim look on A'rist's face as he leans against his lifemate's forelimb. But somehow, they've managed to get themselves some space, even at this time of day. Always running these days, Edyis is probably one of the rare few heading away from the caverns, carefully wrapped parcel in hand. After hitting the bowl she slows considerably. Smaller dragons don't make her as nervous as they used to make her, the bigger ones? She keeps a respectable distance, and spotting Lythronath and A'rist she again questions her sanity. Of course that is part of why she's here, certain brown-rider's comments aside. So she sucks in a breath, stands as straight as she can and at a safe, distance offers the package with both hands holding it well away from her body. "Hey A'rist, thought you might be hungry?" It probably contains sandwiches from the kitchens. She's learned that bribery is one of the best ways to lessen possible irritation at her usual flood of questions. Lythronath sees the girl looking at him, and bobs his head. When he was little, some might have mistaken that movement as cute. Now, the way he looks down, the way his tail swings in counterbalance, he's threatening. And then he scrapes a talon in the dirt. It's at that point that A'rist takes a step away from his dragon, stepping up to Edyis in a few quick paces, and laying his claim to that package. It might be a bit of a snatch, but, rude or not, it makes his dragon stop whatever it is he's doing. "Thank you," as he tucks that pack against his side, not opening it. (Lythronath stares more at it than Edyis, now.) Consider Edyis well threatened. "You might want to be careful of squishing it. It's food." She manages after a deep breath in and out and an effort to stand a little bit straighter. Visibly relaxing some when the dragon's attention is on the box and not her. "Is this still a good time? You seem a little -" Irritated, frustrated, grumpy? "Grim." Is the word she settles on, both of her hands going to the bag strap hanging over her shoulder, and staying there. "It's fine. Just... it's fine. I said we had things to work on." The box is shifted, a with a bit more care, before him again, clasped with two hands in front of his belly. The bronzerider doesn't open it yet, though. "Thanks for the food. Maybe want to tell us how come we're here?" Lythronath's intensity on that box decreases, slightly, but this might not bode well for Edyis, really. Edyis tilts her head a moment. "Well I was actually planning on at this moment talking to you. I don't exactly understand or speak dragon." She points out, "Just some questions about his rate of growth and development. Dragons go through a rapid growth phase, and I wondered about the effects of it. If there was discomfort, it caused other than things like itchy hide. I know you mentioned he was very much about feeling and being one of the larger dragons. I wondered if there were other stresses on his bones, muscles and joints." She opens her mouth again, then shuts it. Whatever else she'd been about to add, perhaps it wasn't best for A'rist to know. "Oh." And that bronzerider facade he's been working so hard on threatens all to fall apart, when A'rist looks over his shoulder to Lythronath, and then back to Edyis, almost culpable. "Well he goes with me," starts defensive, "but if he makes you uncomfortable," suddenly generous, "we could move. He'd rather be killing things anyway." And he probably hasn't much realised what he's said, there, the way, he tests the weight of the box, and tilts his head. Maybe he's just holding off before he answers the rest. Maybe, gathering his thoughts. Maybe, hungry. She blinks at him again, and laughs a little. "Of course he goes with you. I meant to do you want to go somewhere he can stretch out, or we could go over to the feeding pens if he's looking for something to hunt." You know, other than her. She gestures at the chaos all around, "Just looked like neither of you were comfortable in the middle of the bowl." She points out diplomatically. It seems that the fact that he makes her uncomfortable is completely irrelevant. Lythronath is officially bored with the box, and has turned his full attention, beneath those predator's eyeridges, back to Edyis. "We're a rider and dragon in a Weyr," A'rist points out, a bit overzealously. "This is fine." Even if comers and goers may not feel the same. "He had growing pains, sure. He's a big dragon." (The bronze shows his teeth.) "But we were working pretty hard, too. A lot of times the rest of the ache sort of got worked in with the tired ache. It's a good ache, kind of. And he'd just sleep it off." The sudden flow of information has a hint of the defiant to it, and A'rist proudly opens up that box of food. Well so much for hoping that she could get the beast's attention on something else. Though her heart may start pounding again when the bronze shows his teeth she makes her best effort to look detached and unafraid, Fishing for the journal in her bag and the char stick, beginning the process of taking notes, and maybe a quick sketch of those teeth. "So he's definitely not the sort to whine or complain about pain." She notes, "Does he ever get bones stuck in those?" Thumbing at the teeth, the words lack fear as curiosity seems to overthrow the fight or flight response. That bronze sniffs at the girl's effort - not in dismissal, but to smell it. He smells what's going on beneath that fragile skin. Maybe he can even hear or sense her heartbeats. He leans forward, though his feet don't move. A'rist just lifts a sandwich, and takes a bite of it. He chews a while, until he's got half of the original mouthful left (or thereabouts), enough to relegate into one cheek. "He doesn't whine. He gets... I guess annoyed with it, sometimes. Physical stuff. Like that." A look over his shoulder again, as he chews some more, and swallows. "None he can't unstick. Mostly, he breaks them when he chews. Or chomps. Or flings creatures around." Sniiiiiff. Somewhere there is a part of Edyis brain, which is idly wondering if A'rist had planned on having Lythronath around to keep the interview short. Her pulse continues to race at that sniff, or perhaps its the idea of being covered in dragon snot. Nope, after the second sniff it's definitely the dragon getting closer and sniffing. Her jaw sets, and dark eyes lift to focus on the bronze. "My what lovely teeth you have." The char stick moves again. "So other things besides just pain irritate him?" She asks, curiosity winning over fear. "What are things he enjoys besides the hunt?" Lythronath sniffs a time or two more, and then announces his decision in a snort. There might be some snot in that. But it would be fine, and misty, and despite occurring overtop of A'rist's head, apparently isn't enough to make that sandwich less appetising. This time, though, the bite might be an attempt to gather his thoughts as his cheeks flush for her question. Once he's dealt with that mouthful, "I don't know, he reacts to pretty much everything that goes on, some way or other." The bronzerider shrugs, feigns nonchalance. "He likes flaming," is said with a wickedly sharp smile. To High Reaches dragons, Lythronath projects « « Fire! > » Ilicaeth lightly cuffs Lynner. « Get a job, kid. » (To High Reaches dragons from Ilicaeth) To High Reaches dragons, Lythronath projects « Fire. » chuckles...and lights a fire with his breath under Lynner's ass. (To High Reaches dragons from Ilicaeth) To High Reaches dragons, Lythronath, exasperated: « Blues. » To High Reaches dragons, Cadejoth, lurking high up on the rim, rattles his chains. Blues, indeed. And: « Fire. » And sparks, too. "Most men do." She comments on flaming with a touch of irony. "The question becomes one of controling it." That flush is probably noted as well somewhere in those pages. Her pulse slows considerably after the snort, and her breathing slows as well. Maybe she can do this living in a Weyr thing. "Has he ever had to deal with a serious injury beyond the aches of normal duty?" She asks filling in a few more lines to her sketch. "We're getting it better," A'rist says, pride evident in his voice, in the rise of his chest. "Better than lots. He's good at it." Lythronath's head has raised up. His back leg scrapes at the ground, a deep trench. He bobs his head a few times, but this time, his gaze isn't on Edyis. And his wings flick, just once. "Only the one he gave me. On accident." Edyis tilts her head studying them both, at the reaction from the beast. She can't help but smile at the pride. "How did he react to that?" She asks the charcoal stopping for a moment, possibly imagining the beast illuminated by the glow of his own flames. How did he react to that? A'rist gets a wry look, his middle finger tapping thoughtfully at the base of the box. "He wanted to eat anyone who wasn't me." It's light, even matter-of-fact. "It was strange though," the weyrling allows, the flow of words stunted at first, until he's well and truly decided to share, "it sort of made the pain fine. 'Cause I was more with him, I guess?" He tongues at something, perhaps a bit of sandwich in his teeth. "And no one got eaten or even maimed." Possibly the warmest smile the girl has had throughout the entire duration of the conversation appears. "So you two are well and truly linked, more of one mind than two?" The fascination can't be hidden from her tone, as her gaze shifts to the Bronze thoughtfully, before drifting back to the rider. "You're a bit different now than what you were in candidacy and those first few months after impressing. Your more confident now, and it suits you." She pauses, adding in a light-hearted tone, "Even if it does mean you leave your dishes for others to wash." "Well... no." A'rist has to grimace a little bit for that, and the tapping at the bottom of the box comes to a halt. "Not usually. I mean, we're linked, but it's not like we think the same all the time. Or else this place would be a disaster." Maybe it's her acknowledgement of the confidence that allows for an easier tone at the end of that. Or, for the broad grin awarded at the comment of his dishes. "You owed me, anyway. Better you repaid it right away. She considers that, nodding. "Yes probably, but that's why he has you to get him to behave like a gentleman." There's a little smirk, so the irony is probably intended, "Oh come on Bronze riders are supposed to be tough, still I did owe you. Even if it did result in a lecture on tardiness." Not that Edyis is ever tardy. "Never let it be said that I do not pay my debts or that I skimp on bribes." This time, it's A'rist who snorts. Lythronath has gotten bored again, and is staring down a blue who has landed... well, not close, but certainly within staring distance. Blues. "Since when did tough have anything to do with doing dishes? I've got a big, bronze dragon that belches fire." It prompts a bob of Lythronath's head, but... he might just be calling out his newfound adversary. "I'll keep that in mind, too," A'rist promises. Bribes. The blue is noted as is Lythronath's reaction, but she snaps the journal closed around the charcoal stick after reviewing her notes a moment. "I meant having scorching hot klah run over the sides of your cup and hand. I assume because you impressed that fire breathing giant, you are now allergic to dishes and various other types of chores." It seems a sound theory from the way the edges of her lips curl, "Keep in mind that larger bribes may require juicer information. In all seriousness though, what's your favorite part out of all of it now?" "No! Just if anything, I've got more chores now. Bigger ones. More important. And there's people in the kitchens to deal with that, anyway." A'rist's turned a bit defensive by the end of it, and then, pensive. So much so that he doesn't reach for a pastry or anything, from that little picnic box. "You wouldn't want to know what my favourite part is," the bronzerider warns. "I was teasing you." She points out with a gentle smile, but he's sparked her curiosity again, "Actually I do." She admits frankly, biting her lower lip a bit. "But if you don't want to say, that's your choice naturally." A'rist hefts that box, and this time does think to take out a pastry, and inspect it. "I think for that you're gonna have to bring me more than just some sandwiches and pies." It's almost suave, the delivery, almost wholly confident. It's that last bit of guardedness that ruins it. But he bites into that pastry, all grins around it. Challenge: given. She tilts her head at him curiously, tucking the journal away. "Do I get a hint on how much more?" Already her brain seems to be working down different paths of logic, as she prepares to head back in. She didn't skimp on the goodies, this time, but clearly she needs to rethink her approach. "Nope." And even if he's not really got anywhere to go, A'rist turns with that, and sets to messing with his dragon's straps. |
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