Logs:A Ride to Forget
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| RL Date: 1 September, 2015 |
| Who: Dee, Ka'ge, Zymadiath |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Dee needs a ride; unfortunately, Ka'ge is on elevator duty. |
| Where: Bowl, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 14, Month 9, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Lilah/Mentions, Paislie/Mentions, R'oan/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Dee's pretty dress~ |
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| She's a lonely figure tonight, in the part of the bowl where the elevator dragons land to pick up passengers who don't have the convenience of a dragon to bespeak for them. Her dress is a simple thing that comes to the knee in a pretty shade that's close to coral. Her sandals are simple but nice, too, but with practical loops over the arch of the foot and around the heel to ensure they're not lost when one's traveling by winged transport. She paces the space, hands clasped in front of her, eyes casting skyward every few moments as she waits. If one were to reach, they would find Taeliyth's mind asleep, which might explain why Dee hasn't heralded whoever's on duty yet. It would come as no surprise that Ka'ge and Zymadiath offer to do the later shifts of their duties. The young bronze takes not long to notice the one who waits below, his position near the star stones giving him the vantage point he so readily desires. Faceted eyes whirl with a calm, contented hue and speed, though yet still with flecks of orange as if waiting, expecting something (else) to occur. Overly-sized, weighty wings spread cape-like behind him to blot out the night's natural light beyond. It's dramatic, many would say overly so, though at least he is quick to notice those who require a lift and respond to this particular task with some rapidity. His desire for anyone besides Ka'ge being between his neckridges however? Less than appeased, and many have likely murmured of the uncomfortably silent- of the rider- and less than smooth and somewhat intimidating- of the dragon- ride. When Zymadiath's paws hit the ground, it's with a predator's baring not all unlike he would have landed near a herdbeast to kill it. Fortunately, he's a few paces off, and instead of doing anything else that many would deem uncomfortably creepy, there's a physical pause, a slight tilt of the dark weyrling dragon's head. Ka'ge rarely looks at the person they transport, but this time, surely given some mental prompting, he does. There's a pause from him, too, until he clears his throat, unbuckles himself from the straps and slides down with much too much ease and grace. There's a glance to the side, a glance behind her, and finally to her before he offers a gloved hand with a small though rapidly spreading and cautiously sarcastic grin, "How may we be of service?" Dee would not be ashamed of the duck away from the bronze's close landing and only as she looks back does she freeze. She must consider turning away before Ka'ge looks with his own eyes, but at least that pause gives her time to school her expression to something neutral from her plainly caught at something she'd rather he not witness. Even as he climbs down, her head turns to glance toward the junior ledges, as if she might change her mind now or ask her own dragon for a lift in spite of the sleep Taeliyth so rarely enjoys. It's the sarcastic grin that decides it, that pushes something of the niceness that she's most inclined toward aside. "I need a ride to someone's ledge. Taeliyth is asleep and I didn't want to wake her." Dee seems to need to add, "I didn't know you were the ones on duty." Zymadiath settles in preparation for Dee's mounting, though not quite as low as he's been told to do for others; he's only made a few attempt to jump for the straps. Taeliyth is, of course, the only weyrling dragon who outsizes him. Ka'ge on the other hand hesitates in wait of and in consequence to her reaction. The grin of his face falters and fades, "I suppose I forgot to send a message to your weyr to update you on my location so you could avoid it." His sarcasm is heavier here with the loss of his smirk and the darkening of his expression. He may, perhaps, betray a hint of hurt to his tone but before he can let that hang, he turns on his heel. To hide his face, to hurry the process along- it's likely not the latter. "Which ledge?" Comes the moment he's back at his bronze's side, asked over his shoulder. "Don't be an ass," comes Dee's already touchy response to his sarcasm. She clearly takes another moment to decide before moving to mount into Zymadiath's straps with an ease that might almost seem funny in another moment for how unpracticed that motion would have been only a handful of months ago. "I'll direct you," is the answer that basically means he'll either know whose ledge from his own experience or he'll have to find out somehow, since she's not offering a name. She chooses the space in the straps behind him, buckling in and then placing her hands gingerly on his sides, but not around his waist, for added stability. Ka'ge takes only moments to buckle himself into the straps in front of Dee, though when she places her hands on his sides, there's a clear pause of his fingers on the metal clasps. But it passes without a word given to it, and the bronze dragon beneath them shifts with already overly practiced ease. With muscles so in-tuned with each and every movement, it is much like riding an older blue skilled in agility than a youthful weyrling still growing rapidly by the day. A down-beat of darkness-laden massive wings creates lift all too easily to propel them with a lurch skywards. Zymadiath rises not with the whip-lash that he enjoys giving the strangers that ride him, but with the smoothness of a shadow soaring within the crisp, clear stillness of the autumn night. Wingbeats still into a glide once they've risen higher than immediately necessary. Almost above the level of the ledges, he seems to intend to go even higher, though it's while in a slow circle, the wind's noise minimized. To those below, it could so easily be seen as a request for the passenger to see the Weyr from above as a slow spiral brings them eventually back to whatever location was originally of interest. It buys time. Ka'ge was quiet through all of the take-off, as if he would have been willing to just let her be- to whatever harm or good that would've done. But as they level out, a controlled, even and quiet voice is carried back by the wind, "Did you get anyone to help you put up a door?" "No," Dee's answer comes just above the wind. She leans a little closer to say without strain to her voice once she has her bearings, "Up there," with a gesture in a direction but not yet pointing out a particular ledge. The rumbling of the bronze is more physical than audible as it reverberates through him, but he swings into the direction indicated with an easy singular downbeat of wing. Ka'ge nods, though the motion is mostly lost in the concurrent turn of the dragon. "I saw a metal door on a weyr once with a complex rigging system. It took me forever to figure it out." There's a breath of what might've been a laugh given any other situation, but that too is lost both in lack of effort and by the winds that carry what would have been a breath of a noise away. "Do I need a door?" Dee questions, her voice dark, the tone of the question demanding answer as much as the words. "It's not like-" Ka'ge stops himself, catching his breath, his 'wit', and that particular truth that was about to be said, his shoulders notably tensing from their close quarters. "No." Comes in place of whatever was there before it, calm, solid, stern in that answer. Unseen are furrowed brows and set jaw. "Good." It sounds rather final, but then Dee leans again reaching one arm out under his to indicate a ledge. "R'oan?" Curiosity is unsheltered from his question as he recognizes the location of Etreveth's ledge. Ka'ge had never visited it; he hadn't had a need to. But it shouldn't be too surprising to Dee that he knew every weyr after only a couple of months in the air. Zymadiath's angle takes them past the ledge within a few dragonlengths, but does indeed take them past it. His flight makes it seem as though he wouldn't have been able to land well and requires another circle. For all that's known about the mysterious darkling bronze, that may be a hard thing to swallow but he plays it off well even as the ledge falls back out of sight. "What do you need him for?" Ka'ge asks nonchalantly, as if the deviation from their path is only par for the course and his question is simply just a question. "R'oan," Dee agrees, but softer as she leans back, barely audible above the even rush of air. She could tell him it's none of his business but the fact that she doesn't do him that discourtesy probably means something favorable for the young bronzerider. "Whiskey and forgetting." It's a moment later that she adds somberly and with the strain of tenuous control on her feelings, "Another green is dead. This time, someone I care for went with her." The reverberation this time of the bronze is more along the lines of a growl, a direct reflection of what was said and the thoughts accompanying it from the boy in front of her. "Right." The word is particularly exhausted, and after a prolonged moment that's more than likely Ka'ge trying to not say the inappropriate things he normally would, he finally shares, "Zymadiath won't sleep because of it." As if losing Eliyaveith wasn't enough for the revenge-driven dragon. "I have a couple of bottles." Whiskey, rum, other things. It's an invitation, but he neither holds pressure to it nor sounds hopeful. Dee is silent some moments. "Zymadiath may reach out to Taeliyth if he needs someone," presumably someone less human than either rider. Then there's a heavy exhale that may be lost to the greater sounds around them. The young woman leans forward so that her words can be heard again without strain, lips probably too close to Ka'ge's ear to be 'comfortable', "Would I be able to trust that you wouldn't touch me unless I asked, once I'm thoroughly sloshed?" An act that is, as yet, against the rules. "He needs to. He needs something." Ka'ge, in this continued rare moment of sharing something that strains him, offers quietly when she leans forward. "He's like me, though." Since that explains why the bronze internalizes everything and seethes with it instead of reaching out to the gold he's grown up with. His arrogance remains at bay as he answers in that same controlled, calm manner. That dark, quiet voice that seems to be more nakedly him than the inappropriate humor that usually colors his front. "Even then." He says plainly. "I should have never made you feel like you had to protect yourself from me." As close to an apology he can get, the evidence of that hurt that he's always been so immune to is at its base. "I'll tell her." Something. Just what Dee will tell her lifemate is left a mystery. She sits back again while she considers the rest. Leaning forward again, she accepts the words with her acceptance of his offer. "Another night, when you're not on duty. Tonight, take me to Etrevth's ledge." Another pause before she adds the gentle instruction, "Invite me up one night when I'm not on duty either." "We are-" Ka'ge's form shifts as he sighs heavily, cutting out the remainder of that would explain that they were done after this last transport. He says nothing then, but Zymadiath's course changes, proving that he's plenty more agile in the air than he was letting on. Tuck of wing takes them easily into a swooped, oddly gently landing. Darkly hewn paws with darker talons scratch minimally for purchase before the bronze is stilled. Heavy wings sweep backwards and tuck loosely to his sides as he lowers himself and extends a forelimb. Shadow-masked face doesn't bother to look back to either of them, almost mirroring the fact that Ka'ge doesn't look back either once they've arrived at R'oan's ledge. "Sure." Is the eventual and somewhat tense answer to her invitation, his head tilted down to stare at the back of Zymadiath's neck in patience of her dismount. Dee's arms slip around Ka'ge's waist, leaning as much as the buckles allow to come as close to a hug as the restraints allow. Then she unbuckles herself and shifts to climb to the ledge, running hands down her pretty dress once she's arrived. Surely, that's just habit... But when has Dee seemed to care about how she looks in the past? She offers a soft smile back to boy and beast before vanishing into the weyr. Ka'ge remains passive at the hug, his gaze forcibly focused on the spined, hooked neckridge in front of him. Dee taking a moment to mess with that dress, however? There's a slanted glance of his blue-green eyes in her direction, even if he doesn't actually turn to look. But even before she's completely gone into the weyr, Zymadiath propels himself from the ledge with an unnecessary amount of force. The next wingbeat needed after the first is some number of dragonlengths away given that exit, and as he climbs higher above the bowl and over the lip of it, it's clear the pair aren't returning to any elevator duty, escaping instead to the night beyond. |
Comments
Squishy (21:36, 2 September 2015 (PDT)) said...
OMG OMG OMG BAT ICON FOR THE WIN.
Ahem.
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