Logs:Of Change
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 29 April, 2006 |
| Who: Harley, R'hin, Shaylar |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 26, Month 6, Turn 7 (Interval 10) |
| Your location's current time: 17:43 on day 26, month 6, Turn 57, of the Tenth Pass. It is a summer afternoon. Weyrling Barracks(#430RAJs$) This is a large, high ceilinged cavern cut from the rock. There are rows of depressions on the floor, couches for the young dragons; the weyrlings sleep with their dragons. The floor is stone, which helps ease the inevitable task of cleaning up the muck left by the dragonets. The cavern has been decorated with old dragon tapestries hung on the walls, their colors slightly faded. A threadbare rug in the middle of the room bears the emblem of High Reaches Weyr, a mountain range in black on a dark blue field. A few low tables, chairs, and pillows have been scattered about the room, and baskets of glows placed strategically throughout the room keep the place well-lit. An opening in the southwest leads out into the Bowl. Contents: Leiventh Vesereth Feedback Box Firelizard Perch(#8812JSae$) Obvious exits: Weyrling Training Room Bowl Harley meanders in from the bowl. Harley has arrived. R'hin, towel in hand, is currently attempting to dry Leiventh off. The bronze looks like he's just come back from the lake, and he's still dripping water everywhere, but his eyes are half lidded as if he's tired. R'hin doesn't really look much more of an improvement - his hair is still wet and slicked back, but he too, looks like he's been missing quite a bit of sleep. "I have to dry you off before you get in the couch," he's telling Leiventh, blocking the dragonet's attempted progress with his body, "Because otherwise you'll get everything wet! And then I'll have to dry it all, and you'll have to sleep on the ground. No you can't-- because you can't fit in my hammock!" He sounds exasperated and exhausted all at once. Harley peeks around the entrance to the barracks, just to see who's about and who's not. And hearing a tired voice, the rest of her follows her head into the cavern. "Hey R'hin. Need a hand?" Leiventh> To you, Leiventh projects, « Tired. Must sleep. If I fall asleep here, you have to carry me to bed, R'hin. » "I could use several, actually," R'hin sounds relieved, smiling at Harley. "There's a bunch of towels over there, can you grab one? Leiventh wants to nap, but he's still soaking." So's he, but it should be no great surprise that his lifemate's needs supercede his own. "Just a minute more, Leiventh," he adds, in a softer tone, running the towel over the bronze's neckridges. Leiventh, for his part, shifts his stance, pressing harder against R'hin, deliberate, until the weyrling finally keels backwards. Luckily, the edge of the couch prevents him toppling completely over. Seemingly pleased, and for now compliant, Leiventh twists his head to peer curiously at Harley. Harley walks over and grabs a couple towels, tossing one over her shoulder and opening the other one up completely. "Hi handsome." she says cheerfully, yet not so cheerfully that it's annoying to tired people. Or dragons. "Hope you don't mind me helping R'hin." and she starts rubbing the towel over the soft hide on the other side of where R'hin has half fallen. "Having more fun now than mere candidate chores and such?" she asks. "I am -not- going to carry you," R'hin adds to Leiventh, with a snort, picking himself up and rubbing subtly at his leg. He grins at Harley's cheerful greeting, deliberately misinterpreting, "I know I'm irresistible, but try not to point it out in front of Leiventh. He thinks -he's- the handsome one." Leiventh shifts his weight, still examining Harley with interest, nudging her with a shoulder when she gets within range. With a pointed, warning look at Leiventh, R'hin says firmly, "Mind? Shards, no. Leiventh almost got himself drowned by one of the adult dragons," a hint of ire in his voice, but not directed at anyone here, "And I may have gotten myself yet -more- chores, so... it hasn't really stopped." He's wry, attention on Leiventh as he towels the bronze down. "And you?" Harley chuckles softly. "I was speaking to Leiventh. For that exact reason. You already know." she retorts amiably. "And I'm back to all the b'zillion chores I had before I was searched. Copying records late in the evenings, helping anywhere and everywhere during the day and visiting the babies at least once a day too. The usual." She rubs the towel over the bronze shoulder nudging her and moves on down the bronze side. "More chores? Potting numbweed again?" R'hin doesn't appear in the least bit chastened by Harley's rebuke. If anything, his grin widens. "Oh, so you'll feed his ego? He doesn't need it. He's a bronze." The comment is offhanded, but it has kind of an odd, indecipherable tone to it. Leiventh seems to notice it, since his head swings around towards R'hin, his weight shifting as if getting ready to move. "No! Not yet," R'hin argues, but his expression is somehow softer. Gaze darting towards Harley, he points out, "I thought you were supposed to get less work once candidacy is over?" A roll of his eyes follows, then, "No, thankfully. Laps. I sense plenty of laps in my immediate future." Leiventh> To you, Leiventh, unsurprisingly, catches the thought, « I -am- a bronze. I expect nothing of you, R'hin, you are who you are, and that's why I chose you. » He seems aware that's one of your concerns, and dismisses it simply, adding, « A very -sleepy- bronze. » Harley grins as the towel gets too wet to use and she tosses it aside, pulling the dry towel off her shoulder and using it to dry the rest of this side of the bronze. "Laps? Will Leiventh do laps with you?" she teases gently before adding "Oh, it's just as much work but it's not as uh, physical, as the candidate chores were. Other than scrubbing that is. That and working in the storage caverns is about as physical as my chores get." she answers. "Maybe you need to be a little less, uh, direct. Maybe." she offers. "I have no idea," R'hin admits, lips twisting for a moment in contemplation. It's all the distraction Leiventh needs; the bronze, expert by now, shoulders his rider in exactly the right spot to unbalance him, before pushing past into the couch. "I wasn't... finished yet," R'hin adds, lamely, grabbing the edge of the couch for balance. Leiventh, looking pleased with himself, shifts around in the couch until he's comfortable, eyelids closing one by one until his breathing evens out. R'hin watches, raptly, as if this is something he hasn't seen many times since the dragon's shelling. After a moment, he pulls his attention away, rubbing at his eyes, though continues to lean tiredly against the couch. "Less direct? I am who I am," there's a touch of asperity in there, that grows as he speaks: "I'm not about to change for anyone. I'm not about to become the ultimate diplomat, leader, and fine example of men simply because Leiventh chose me." Harley snorts delicately. "I'm not asking you to changes and you well know it. I'm about as diplomatic as that stone couch, if that tells you anything. I simply state things as I see them." She shrugs. "Sometimes, when you talk to people it's like your daring them to take a swing at you. Not so much the words as the tone that comes out. That's what I meant." Another shrug as she reaches to pick up the wet towel. "Where do these go?" she asks, glancing around. Shaylar comes away from the meat tubs with Gruvfeath trailing after. Shaylar is rolling her eyes as Gruvfeath belches at regular intervals behind her. "No, I think its disgusting. Its different when you can't help it than when you do it on purpose. Trust me, you are not going to win this argument." Gruvfeath's posture is a little disguntled at this reprimand and he lets out one more belch. Shaylar clenches her hands in fists and makes a grumbling sound that isn't all that different from one of Gruvfeath's rumbles. She stalks nearer Harley and R'hin and she manages a civil smile at Harley and a brief wave at R'hin. The tale end of Harley's statement is heard, "I'll second that." This said with a grim glance at R'hin. Leiventh's just settled in his couch, now fast asleep. R'hin, for his part, is leaning against the bronze's couch, staring at Harley silently a moment. "Maybe I am," he says, with a shrug. "Maybe that's just part of who am I, too." He pushes away from the couch with an exhale, holding out his hands to take the towels, "I'll add them to my pile to be washed. Unless you want to dry me, too?" a faint grin, as he runs his hand through his wet hair. The grin disappears pretty swiftly at Shaylar and Gruvfeath's arrival, particularly at her comment. His expression is closed, guarded, voice neutral as he says, "I didn't mean to upset you and Gruvfeath earlier. Leiventh told me," he adds, by way of explanation. Harley blinks at the brown and bites her lip. She isn't quite sure what the argument was about from Shaylar's side of it but she has a vague idea. Her own guts rumble and she blinks again. "Um." Nope, there's no holding this one back. And there's no way to keep her mouth shut either. Out rumbles a belch that would do a bronze proud. A sheepish smile appears as soon as the trapped air is finally *out*. A sigh of pure relief emerges and that sheepish grin turns on Shaylar as she says in a very meek voice "Sorry." Shaylar looks startled at R'hin's words and she sighs, "Which means Gruvfeath told HIM, which means I'm not guarding my thoughts like I thought. Everything I try to keep to myself, he seems to pop out with a question about it." She wrinkles her nose, "I should say its none of my business...unless the WeyrlingMaster gets grumpy and takes it out on the rest of us." She glances at the bronze's couch pointedly, letting R'hin know that she's including Leiventh in 'the rest of us'. R'hin's 'pile of washing' apparently consists of throwing the damp towels onto his hammock for now. He's in trouble if there's a snap inspection. He gives Harley a startled look at the belch, noting wryly, "I don't know whether to be disturbed or impressed." However, Shaylar's comment quickly garners his attention. "They do seem apt to share," he agrees, almost sympathetically. He does stiffen slightly at Shaylar's words, and follows her look towards Leiventh. Troubled, the weyrling repeats, "I can't help who I am, Shaylar, any more than Leiventh or Gruvfeath can help being who -they- are." With a wry grimace, "He already doesn't seem to like me." It's Harley's turn to look startled. "Who doesn't like you?" she asks simply. The belch is forgotten as she suddenly realizes she is probably not going to understand a lot of what is happening or said in this particular cavern. "Oh. Sorry. Don't mind me." Shaylar snorts, "Wherry feathers. Who you are, you can't change, true, but what you do and say is a choice you make moment by moment. People change, R'hin, and you've got someone other than yourself to think about now. As far as Leiventh goes, I'll tell you the truth...from what Gruv says, the pair of you are perfectly matched. You'll either learn to work together or you'll be arguing all the time. And I'm almost sure Gruvfeath's new 'I'm bigger than you, why do I have to do what you say' attitude rubbed off your dragon." Her smile is wry and somewhat amused, not angry. R'hin's lips thin, abruptly, at something Shaylar says. "Yes. -Perfectly- matched," he echoes, dryly. He casts another long look at Leiventh, arms folded across his chest in a defensive posture. With a long, low exhale, he concedes, "I don't want to get the rest of you in trouble," which seems like his own way of saying like he'll try. A little grin follows, and he confesses, "I think it might have. I'll try to reign Leiventh in. I think one strong willed dragon in this barracks is enough. I'm happy for Gruvfeath to be it." Walking over, he 'borrows' an empty cot, sprawling across it, with arms behind his head. "S'din," he answers Harley promptly, tone dismissive as he shrugs. "Sorry, Harley. Forgot my manners. Take a seat?" he invites, gesturing vaguely. Harley shakes her head as she starts moving towards the bowl. Still looking a little sheepish and blushing at the same time. "No, I'd best be getting back. I've got to go do some copying this evening yet." Straightening up she smiles "Have fun." she adds as she gets closer to the entrance. Harley walks out to the bowl. Harley has left. |
Leave A Comment