Logs:Of Riders and Dragons
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| RL Date: 9 December, 2014 |
| Who: H'vier, Lycinea |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: H'vier and Lya have an in-depth conversation. Who knew either of them could be so deep? |
| Where: Sheltered Lakeside Ledge, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 6, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Farideh/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Madilla/Mentions, Oliwer/Mentions, Tayte/Mentions, Teris/Mentions, V'ros/Mentions, Vidar/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. |
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| Sheltered Lakeside Ledge, High Reaches Weyr The far side of the lake gets much less foot traffic - there's less grass, due to the poorer soil, and the bed of the lake is muddy and not at all as nice to walk in. But a small stand of four willow trees with long branches hanging low and swinging in the breeze provides some relief from the sun during the heat of the day. A pair of small curved benches sit underneath the trees. The ground rises up sharply towards the northwest end of the lakeside, and the waterfall that feeds the lake thunders downwards there, foaming the water and creating a fine mist in the air that distorts the light.
H'vier is jogging. He does this even more than he used to these days. He's not wearing a shirt, but it's tucked into the waist of his pants. The quieter side of the lake must have seemed like a good idea, fewer people to come across that might stop him. Except that when he sees Lycinea, the bronzerider slows and then pauses. "Lya?" The blonde is so caught up in whatever daydream is giving her that thoughtful, perhaps a little wistful expression that she doesn't notice H'vier's approach until he says her name. Even then, it takes Lycinea a moment to pull her head out of the clouds and put her eyes on the speaker. Her brows rise a little bit as she looks at him. She does that for a moment before, "Hi." It's a little reluctant, perhaps understandably, given their last parting months ago now. Her eyes flick back to her peers in the shallows, and then down to her cloth, needle and thread. She takes up the lot again and peers at it as though to see where she left off. The bronzerider stops, watching the girl from his moderate distance away. Her greeting and then relative dismissal seems to make him consider moving along as though he didn't come across her at all. But of course she wouldn't be that lucky. Instead, H'vier starts to approach. It's slow, at least, and he doesn't seem to mean to join her, exactly. "I'm sorry, Lya." That's it. That's all he says. But he waits for some sort of acknowledgement. The next look Lycinea turns on the approaching man is laced with suspicion. "Why are you apologizing?" Not 'for what,' but why. She doesn't seem antagonistic not especially welcoming, but H'vier must have had worse receptions. That doesn't require much thought on H'vier's part, at least. "Because I upset you." And that's what he's supposed to do when he upsets young women, right? "So, I get an apology for you making an ass of yourself and upsetting me but that time you were drunk and you found me here, I had to fight to get the new coat you owed me?" That must seem a little backwards, judging by her now pursed lips. "I didn't wear it." Lya adds a moment later. "And the whole trip sucked anyway. We got there, I puked on his dragon, he was stupid and mopey," she doesn't say like always, "and we came right back." Because H'vier wants to know, right? If she wants logic, she'll have to go to Reisoth. H'vier only shrugs, gaze dropping to the bench that he remembers all too well despite his drunkenness that day. "I'm sorry your trip sucked." He's full of apologies today, evidently. "It would've been nice for it to not." Lya admits, shrugging her shoulders and looking back to the sewing in her lap. She doesn't seem to expect much out of these things though, so probably she's not too disappointed. "You're forgiven, I guess. But next time, I want a very expensive apology present." He's getting off light, see? "How are you?" They must be friends again if she's going to exchange niceties with him. "What do you consider very expensive?" Because it might be cheaper than what his ex not-weyrmate would have considered standard apology gift price range. "Those suits weren't exactly cheap." That he bought even though she ran away. "I could take you to the beach again, if you wanted. Without your stupid, mopey friend. We don't have to hang out or anything. But it's nice. You should have a good time." As for himself, H'vier says, simply, as he comes closer to gesture at the bench in silent request to join her, "I'm fine." "Whatever you think is very expensive, doubled," Lya says without giving it much thought (if she had, it might've been tripled or more or maybe some kind of sliding scale depending on the offense). Her hand lifts to flutter in affirmative answer to his own gesture. "I don't know if I'm really a beach sort of girl after all," the blonde answers his offer with a single-shouldered shrug and then a nod toward her peers in the shallows. "It seems like the kind of thing you do with friends who don't shrink when wet." She sighs wistfully, letting her blue-green gaze linger on the teens before looking back to the bronzerider. "I'm not sure I'd really like to keep going places if I'm only going to keep getting sick." While Reisoth has narrowly avoided actual christening, the ground almost never fails save for the short jaunts between bowl floor and ledge. H'vier rumbles a sound that's not exactly happy with this idea. He'll end up buying her her own cothold at the rate he's gone since they first met. "Maybe you just need more practice. I know some riders, weyrlings, that've had issues with it. At least one of Reisoth's, actually. But," the last word said as he changes gears, "If you're not interested, that's fine, too." "My mopey friend, too. Though, he didn't puke when we went to the beach." The girl sighs. Then she wrinkles her nose. "I'm not sure I really need to practice. It's not like I'm ever going to be a dragonrider. And anyway, I've seen a beach now, with black sand," which makes it special, surely, "and the only other place I thought I really wanted to go was Balen to see the people who gave me up, only I don't want to anymore, so--" Lya's shrugging again. "I guess gathers are fun from time to time," she allows this, "but you're the only one that ever takes me and you've not been around the last few months." It's not accusing, just statement of fact. "Busy with things, I'm sure." Things she might not have any interest in, but things that seem to require a flap of her hand in the air as if to illustrate (it really doesn't say much for what she thinks the things are). "If you don't want to go anywhere, I don't see why you'd need to get over it, no. But you've never thought about Standing?" This isn't exactly surprising to H'vier, but he seems curious all the same. Balen he files away without further comment. And he doesn't seem to feel the need to comment on what's kept him busy, either. "I figured you'd come around if you'd wanted to." "I've thought about it." Lya says as if that's sort of a dumb question. "I live in a Weyr and work with a lot of people that thought Standing was the answer. I've heard all the reasons to do it, and to not do it." The takes a breath and then rolls her shoulders. "I've never been asked, and I know it's my 'right,'" she makes the air quotes with one hand, taking the needle back up once she has, "to ask to Stand, but I don't really see why. Isn't it a lot of work to take care of a dragon?" She asks the bronzerider. "I think you got too used to me just showing up in your weyr. Friendships are supposed to be two-way." And probably have a little less to do with being bought things... "It's a lot of work at first, sure. But they become pretty self sufficient once they can hunt. And between. Once they've finished growing. Being a weyrling is hard at first. But they grow quickly." H'vier isn't really trying to convince her to become a dragonrider, though. "Do you really want me showing up in your quarters?" Really? "You know I share a room with five other girls my age, right?" Lya eyes him dubiously; the answer is no. "But it's not like my room is the only place to find me. I mean, I've been at my shifts in the kitchen. So much I'm finally getting actual days off." Imagine that! She must be behaving. "It sounds like kind of a raw deal these days. I mean, once, sure, dragons had to flame Thread and save the world and all that. But now... I mean, sure, some people need to do it for when Thread comes again. If it comes again." But doesn't it always come again? Apparently, she's not convinced. "But it's a lot of work." Traditionally, she's not a fan of work. "And for what? To get to a gather and back more easily?" Perhaps no one has ever bothered to speak in depth about the bond between dragon and rider to her on a personal level. "Yes." H'vier knows of her living arrangements. Should he not know that she shares a room with five other girls? He clearly can't remember. "I'll try to make a point of finding you on occasion, then. Now that I know you won't chase me off with a knife." This, for some reason, earns a brief, sad smile. "It's a pretty good deal now, actually. Risking your life, risking your dragon's life, to fight thread isn't an easy thing to do." Not that he ever had to. As for the point, "For status?" Of course. "To never be alone again? Reisoth and I aren't as close as other bonds. But he's still... everything. I can't imagine my life without him." The look Lya gives him is a little questionable at best. Did she mean to invite him to come find her on occasion or simply make him feel bad about not having done so before. This is a lesson: be careful what you ask for, Lya. The blonde doesn't protest, however. She does dip her brows, "I could chase you with a knife if you want, but I don't think either of us would like where that goes." H'vier waking up without a kidney? Isn't she shadowing a man with a surgical specialty in the infirmary who doesn't particularly care for the big bronzerider? "Do I seem like the kind of person who wants status?" Not that he's trying to convince her and not that she seems the type to be convinced. "It's... sort of weird to hear you talk like that." The girl admits with a measure of something that might come close to concern. "What's he like?" She asks after a brief moment, "And what's it like to-- you know, be with him." Her puzzled look might be because the words don't seem to fit just what she wants to know, but they'll have to do. "You should want status." It doesn't matter if she doesn't want it, evidently. She should. H'vier ignores the comment about the knife and, for a time, seems like he might ignore the same about Reisoth. "Independent," he finally says. "He's smart, notices things I don't. And ambitious. Otherwise, we're not very similar, I suppose. He almost never loses his temper, for one." This makes H'vier try a grin, making light of one of his worst vices. "And he's not particularly interested in the females until they're rising." "And how do you propose I go about getting this status that I should want?" Lya asks after rolling her eyes. For the rest, she listens with an impassive if not expressionless face, with her brows drawn down and her look at him a little narrowed. It's focus, it seems, not contempt, though it might be confused were he doing or saying anything that warranted. The look vanishes after a moment of contemplation when she says, "It's weird thinking of them as sort of like people. With personalities and stuff. I mean, you hear all the time about how this dragon does things or does other things. But it's weird thinking of Reisoth as being independent." Or probably any of the other things he said. "I wasn't going to propose anything," says H'vier. "But since you're asking, the easiest way would probably be to attach yourself to a man of status. You could Impress a gold, but that's unlikely. And I don't suppose you're likely to marry a Lord, either." As for the dragons, the bronzerider makes an agreeable sound. "It's difficult to grasp until you've had one in your head." "And afterward, I can plot a course to the Red Star and flame it myself." She points, with these very lips. Lya says it with no subtlety to her sarcasm, though she does seem amused by the idea. "Did you think there was a dragon that would want you before you got on the sands?" She asks the bronzerider, letting it go unsaid that she'd likely think any dragon who picked her daft for the doing. "Was Reisoth what you expected he'd be?" She follows up with hardly a breath between, jumping from one thought to the next without any censoring before they reach her mouth. "I stood several times before it finally happened. So, no. I started thinking I just wasn't the sort of man a dragon would take to. I mostly kept doing it because I didn't know how else to make anything of myself." H'vier doesn't need to do much censoring of his own. He might be less open if he were. "He was bronze. I wouldn't have accepted anything less. I'm not sure what I expected other than that. But he's everything I need him to be." "But did you really have a choice about that? I mean, do you think? I thought dragons choose. I mean, you hear these stories in the kitchen about guys who end up on green and say they wanted bronze," like H'vier's wingsecond, for example, "Or women that end up on blue or brown and say they wanted green or gold." Lya observes quietly, darting a furtive look in the bronzerider's direction. "Is it important, do you think, to 'make something of yourself'?" This is more a wondering question than her more pointed inquiries about riders and dragons. "I swear I nearly Impressed a blue my first time on the sands." But, obviously, H'vier didn't bond with a blue. "I'm not sure there's only one dragon for every person. Or the other way around. I think the dragons bond themselves to someone compatible enough to live with. And they make it work. Sort of like women. Except you're stuck with your dragon forever." This, too, makes the bronzerider grin like he's trying to be funny. Then, "It's important to me." "So do you think that if they let that boy at Fort Stand again-- or Teris, if she weren't dead-- that they could Impress another dragon?" It's the logical question isn't it. And so is, "If you were Weyrleader, would you allow it?" Lya has more questions than anything else this afternoon, but at least this doesn't lighten H'vier's beltpouch. "Would you like it better if you weren't stuck with your dragon forever?" This is lightly challenging, but it coaxes a small smile from her to offer to the bronzerider. "So, wingleader is what you've made of yourself? Or bronzerider?" How does H'vier see himself? "I don't know if they could Impress again. I'd let someone try, though, sure. If they wanted to." Which he seems to doubt. But H'vier offers, "It would be comforting to know that my mistakes wouldn't cause Reisoth to kill himself. Sometimes I wonder if he'd be the first riderless dragon if something were to happen to me. He says he would be." Obviously. "Wingleader. Weyrleader, someday." Lya probably thinks the latter is about as realistic as, "Well, if you bite it, and he hangs around, he can let me be the first female bronzerider in the history of Pern. Tell him I have a lot of scrubbing experience from being in the kitchens." The girl's lips have pulled wider into a full smile now. "So when you're the weyrleader, can I have my own room and not have to work at all? That could be considered gaining status, couldn't it?" It seems to be all that appeals to her just now. "He says you're probably more gentle than I am." H'vier rolls his eyes and offers up as an explanation, "He can be strange about getting touched." The rest, though, makes the bronzerider laugh outright. "No." Fortunately that's all he says with no comment on how she might actually be able to make that happen. "I can be strange about getting touched," Lya points out. Clearly, she and Reisoth are meant to be. "And by you... well, who knows where those hands have been." It's at least half a tease, but seriously, who knows where those hands have been? "Well, then I wouldn't vote for you." This is her thoughts on his becoming Weyrleader. Fortunately, teen girls don't get a say, unless they've significantly more status and exactly the right timing that Lya has neither of. "Not many places, lately," admits H'vier with as slight sigh. But his grin is forced back readily enough as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. "Who would you vote for, if you could?" The bronzerider actually seems kind of curious. Maybe he's just been working on his acting. "Yeah, Farideh said she stopped putting out." Lya says with a nose wrinkle, because she so does not want to know these things but does. "Hm. I dunno. K'del's had it a long time, but Farideh says he's a jerk," which apparently figures into such important decisions as fictitious Weyrleader-voting. "Then there are those young bronzeriders that have more interest in getting milk from a cow than in seeing the cow and all it's friends and family and people it doesn't know or maybe even hates get fed and clothed and-- well, cows don't wear clothes, but you get the point." She thinks on it some more. "I'll have to get back to you. I'll go get to know some bronzeriders." That's a good idea, right? "Did she?" H'vier seems a little surprised by this news, but not upset. "He is a jerk," he'll agree, however, but without further comment or reason. "Good plan. I'm sure only most of them will want to fuck you for your trouble." And that's better than all of them, obviously. "Did she lie? She was all doey-eyed for some holder that's full of himself," Lya squints at H'vier. If she wasn't supposed to share this kind of privileged information, well... "If I go about it right, none of them will want to fuck me for any reason," which sounds more like a life philosophy. "After all, I got you to stop wanting to, didn't I?" Just say 'yes.' "I suppose not. I haven't seen her for awhile so I didn't know she was saying no." H'vier won't point out that she'd basically said no the last time they were together. He considers the rest of the information, then basically ignores it. "I think you made me stop wanting to fuck anyone ever," he says. He's lying. And not trying very hard to hide it. Lycinea sighs wistfully. "If only. What a credit that would be on my resume." Then she grins at him. "Women the world over would so owe me." She shifts onto her feet then, looking at him. "So, when are we going to the beach?" The beach she said she didn't want to go to. Evidently, he's won her over. That was what he was going for, right? H'vier looks amused. And unconvinced. But he's not going to tell her that there are plenty of women who would probably not be happy about that, as a matter of fact. Whether he was going for getting her to the beach or not, he says, "When can you get away from the kitchen next? We can make a day of it." "Probably next seven. I'll have a day that I'm supposed to use to pack before I go to Healer Hall for the seven to shadow the apprentices." Lya answers with a shrug like that doesn't matter much. "I don't have much to pack, so we might as well go to the beach instead." Showing up sun-burned to the Healer Hall is a perfect introduction, right? Patient and apprentice-shadower. "You're going to Healer for a seven?" is clearly the more important question here. H'vier sounds only passingly curious, though, and adds soon enough, "That will work out. Do you know which beach you want to go to already?" He'll just assume that a private beach with just him isn't really up her alley. "Yeah, the Weyrhealer arranged it for me. I've been shadowing a Journeyman sometimes, sort of. Weyrhealer Madilla thought maybe I could see if I really wanted to apprentice by shadowing the apprentices at the Hall for a seven. It would be a lot of work to apprentice now. Most of them would have three turns on me at least." Because she's sixteen. Still. Lalala. "I don't care. A warm beach. I didn't stay at the one I went to for very long at all." "You're really thinking about apprenticing?" If H'vier has an actual, strong opinion on that one way or another, it's not really showing right now. "Interesting." Because it is. "We'll figure it out then. I usually go to Ista." But if he's with Lya, he's probably not going to be enjoying himself with anyone else, so Ista probably doesn't matter as much. "Will you wear the red suit?" "Thinking about it," Lya can confirm with a little shrug that makes it all more casual and less big-life-decision-y. "Make something of myself, maybe." Maybe. "It's magenta." Purpley-red. The one he left on her bed at any rate. Lya says it with a roll of her eyes for men and colors. "I guess. It's not like I'm trying to keep you from being embarrassed that I'm showing any skin at all." Swim suits are possibly even more interesting than the possibility of healer apprenticeships if you're H'vier. "I'm not talking about the magenta one. I bought both of them. I have the red one. It'd be nice to see you actually wear it." Not like he's going to force her, but the implication is that he'd be disappointed if she didn't. Well, now Lya has to pucker her lips at him and tilt her chin up in consideration of the bronzerider she thought she tamed. "I thought you didn't like the red one." Hadn't he said no to that one? "I like the red one. That's why I didn't want you wearing it for someone else. But," this last word comes out quickly and firmly because H'vier doesn't want her to overreact to the idea before he's finished his thought, "I don't care who you wear it around anymore." She gives him a suspicious look. (She should, shouldn't she?) But some moments later she's shrugging her shoulders. "Whatever. So long as I get to keep it after." Why should a no-longer-young-enough-to-be-considered-a-weyrbrat-still girl care how much skin she is or isn't showing? So long as H'vier keeps his hands to himself Lya shouldn't have a problem. "Sure," is all H'vier says to her, simple as that. It's not like he need the suit for himself. "Most of the women I take places prefer to end up naked." This may be true, but it's also just as likely that he's saying it to tease (disgust?) the teen as he rises, preparing to continue on his way. "Then it'll be a novel experience for you." Lya's voice takes it into a nearly sing-song tease for H'vier as she flips her hair and half-bounces her way off in the other direction. Nothing left to brood about today, apparently! |
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