Logs:City on the Beach
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| RL Date: 5 September, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, L'hai |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Iesaryth and Kolniveth have a chat. It seems to go well. |
| Where: Minds of Dragons |
| When: Day 16, Month 9, Turn 29 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions |
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| It all starts as something of a trickle, a stream that finds it's meandering way towards its goal - curious, distracted. But eventually, it all widens out from stream to wider than river or lake to roll out foamy tide in Kolniveth's direction, ocean waves bright with sunlight, eternal. Iesaryth takes her time about most things; so too she takes some time to speak, mostly interested in the meantime, but eventually, wryly, « Hraedhyth said I should say hello. » Amused, that it should be the warrior queen to remind her of manners. (Iesaryth to Kolniveth) Waves crash upon the manmade shore of building fronts, an industrial beach of glimmering glass windows instead of sand, though each reflect the gold's light with equal glamour; one of high ceilings and progress. Interest of hers is sent to the queue of his mind, left to sit in a high-class, amenities-filled waiting room till she gets around to her speaking - and he takes no such time in immediately striding close with a cast of freshly pressed clothing and that new-oiled smell. « She's a good kid. Takes care of you. » Muted, but constant, noises stream by in the background. (Kolniveth to Iesaryth) This is different. Iesaryth's tide has encountered metal before, there's that warm echo in her thoughts, but not construction; water pools and eddies along the stone and glass, in between, with the silver flash of fish-thoughts beneath the surface. Though there might be surprise at the suddenness of movement, there's no real issue with it - her own breezes send crisp salt-scented sea breezes in return. A contrast, to be sure. Her light tenor still wry, « There is an impression that I need taking care of. » Not one she shares, but would she? « You were hatched far from here as well. » (Iesaryth to Kolniveth) Reflections drafted in the water and the glass create bright flashes between them. Scent seems appreciated; seems to meld well. Even in contrast. A whole amalgam of contrasting, yet spiritedly connected, ones waft from lower in his mind: the part of him left in industry while he luxuriates in this conversation. « There's a hunch she wants to. You, I haven't met. » Till now. The crinkle and crisp smell of newly printed paper. A clean sheaf. No impressions. Not even the stain of ink. « Ista. Not too shitty. » (Kolniveth to Iesaryth) Pleased by the reflections, the sun sparkles off the waves, constant. The roar and crash of ocean echoes off and between the glass. Always thinking, the fish dart lower into the depths for the most part, though bright ideas still linger near the surface. « She is protective of many things. It is her way. But I can take care of myself. » Iesaryth is not overly bothered, but it's enough to comment on - so it's something to her. Not seeming the sort to be overly judgmental herself, « I have been remiss. My apologies. And I like it there. » Though it's not the fuzzy stolen memory of jungle and bright flowers she has: « Monaco. » (Iesaryth to Kolniveth) Opinions ruffle beneath the interior of his reception room, dinging like messages, under the clean carpeting of their meeting where his mind is churning off production and the shuffle of never-ending bodies. He keeps them to himself. « Like I said. » Not shitty: the flutter of activity at the outdoor markets, a high-ceilinged weyr, and a sun to bake in. Windows reflect off her jungle memory, filing it, without imprinting his own. Just sun off the muggy atmosphere that make it even more like a mirage. « Home's what you make it. It takes all types. » No regret, no lingering sentiment for the location left behind. He's up here, now, and when he copies her on the impression of favorably crashing waves on a sparkling beach it turns it isn't Ista at all. It's them. (Kolniveth to Iesaryth) It's the opinions that she's interested in, predictably - as the waves are constant, so is the desire to know - but there's also a certain respect for privacy that has Iesaryth merely curious, not pressing. As for Ista, the sun, the market - the bar - « I like to see the ocean. We can nearer, but it is not so blue. » Not the blue she likes. Though the lack of regret makes her likewise interested, she can agree, « I do not mind. I would like to see my sisters and brothers. It has been long. But otherwise... » She is not territorial in the same way as Hraedhyth. This is her home, but there are many places that can be home. And that image, that impression only brightens her further. « Yes. » (Iesaryth to Kolniveth) « So go see 'em. » Tick, tick, tick, like a clock; though there is all practical, and no sarcasm to his prompt. A slight tinge of liquor in the air heavily teases the nostrils when she brightens, bemused. Distracted but by the growing muffled din of bodies all shoving and nudging into one other beside the clack of heels and honking of horns. All going -- hurriedly going somewhere. « Near or far ain't exactly things for us, honey. » The blink of Between. Is it cold? Whatever. It's the crystal clear, perfect crispness of efficiency. (Kolniveth to Iesaryth) « There are issues. » Human issues. Iesaryth is only patient with them because she has all the time in the world, but it's still... inconvenient. And inefficient to be sure. « Politics. » There's a derisive spray of seafoam for that; she understands it when she must, but she's tired of this particular situation. She will go, regardless, soon. And then, there's her own distraction, and her own bemusement: « My attention is required elsewhere, apparently. We will speak again. » She's decided. He's interesting enough to make the effort - because it's so hard to reach out all that way mentally! Tide withdrawing, though the sound may linger quietly for a time after, « Good evening, Kolniveth. » (Iesaryth to Kolniveth) A motor teases her waters, pushing it along - letting her go out, but with that last metallic flash of him. Tsking, maybe. Tick, tock. She knows, if she's any impression on leaving, that should she want to get by those pesky issues, she'll come back and see him. Smog is heavy, and it lingers behind them like a stamp. They were here. Like that flashbang of ocean light on the windows. « Take care of yourself, lady. » (Kolniveth to Iesaryth)
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Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy) left a comment on Thu, 06 Sep 2012 05:53:30 GMT.
...I'm actually kind of terrified at the thought of these two teaming up, now. Brilliant, meet clever efficiency.
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