Logs:Curiosity Equals Death
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| RL Date: 25 June, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, V'teri |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Brieli and V'teri get acquainted while Iesaryth 'skates'; Brieli is not in a good mood. |
| Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
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| It's not snowing and it's not hailing. There's no wind whipping through the bowl, nor any other brutal weather today to keep people indoors, just clear skies and cold temperatures - it's enough for even those not all that accustomed to the winter to force themselves out for air, lest things get worse and trap them indoors with no warning. So the evening finds Brieli on the icy lakeshore, bundled against the cold in shapeless black coat and red hat that presses her newly-shorn hair against her cheeks, rubbing mittened hands together as Iesaryth glides across the ice, using her wings to balance herself and catch the odd breeze. The dragon is likely not as graceful as she'd like, but she's not falling down either. No natural wind. Now, people create winds are a little different, and a sudden skid of teeny ice chips fly in a low arc at the feets of those intrepid lakeshore explorers, as the figure's sudden brake then whizzes past Brieli. A catcall sounds in his wake, as V'teri turns with an easy grace on his skates, moving backwards, to observe the aftermaths of his interruption. "Newly flocked weyrlings," teases the tenor, the speed with which he was skating slowing slowly and turning in circles to keep him within the Monaco-Impressed weyrling's vicinity. For once, Brieli's not really paying attention to what's happening around her - mostly to Iesaryth, though with an expression that suggests she's less looking at than through the dragon, as complimentary as that is. It's only via the gold that she has anything of a warning; Iesaryth just huffs quietly and perhaps jealously at V'teri's speed, while the tall dark weyrling jumps back a little on the shoreline, giving him the side-eye irritably. "Don't talk to me about it," she says, tones still cultured, but less calm than usual. "I wasn't given the proper opportunity to plead my case ahead of time." "Can't say you aren't cute with your hair all bobbed up. Modern, even," remarks the man with a dry, mocking little grin. And in case she can't tell, he adds, "It's a compliment. I never know how women up here will react to being flirted with, so might as well state the obvious. Well, that's the first lesson I learned here, at any rate courtesy of our ex-Weyrwoman." His hands swing behind him, thumbs tucked into his belt as he mimics Iesaryth's wings with the triangular angle of his arms. He slows his pace a little, skating closer to fall in line with the young gold dragon. "Nice wings, sweetheart." Yes, V'teri might just be flirting with a dragon as well. "The other girls said that too, but as I said earlier this week, cute is for babies and kittens. But I appreciate it. I have hope that it's actually somewhat attractive." Brieli says this as if she really believes she could be all that unattractive, but it doesn't seem possible - not from the way she holds herself, arches fine brows. Reassuringly, "I'm not going to hit you, if that helps." She watches V'teri with head tilted slightly as he skates alongside Iesaryth, who seems pleased with compliment, company, or both - the dragon gives herself a push with said wings to go sliding along more speedily. "Well, at least we're copacetic with that. That you could never be ugly and that I don't like to be hit." V'teri 'flaps' his wings a little in further mimicry and continues to glide along with the weyrling dragon -- though he stops short when he might come out of Brieli's hearing. "You Impressed at Monaco. I've heard about you through the grapevine." He taps his head, and the gestures to Iesaryth, in what /he/ presumes is the universal symbol of the dragon gossip network, but really, he might just look more crazy than not. "You really got the short end of that stick, though I guess I also volunteered to be here, as opposed to Monaco's warmth. Did you even get to enjoy any of fares they had to offer? Or was it all business, in and then out?" To Iesaryth, Riuscyth's touch is warm, delighted. Quite unlike the chill that must be running through those fragile spars of hers. « We share a sire, » is his introduction. « But we both belong here, irrelevant to what V'teri might say to her. » Iesaryth isn't a big dragon yet, but there's a lot of her still and she's still waiting to glide while the other weyrlings go ahead - it doesn't take her too long to go gliding out further onto the lake, in some substitute for flying. Brieli nods to V'teri, agreeing as she takes a step or two down the shoreline, "I did." And she doesn't look at him like he's totally insane, so perhaps she got the message. "I didn't actually love the humidity - though I'm not quite used to the cold either. And we were there for a few days before the hatching... though it was mostly all business. It wasn't precisely relaxing. But it was - a good start, I suppose. To get used to being watched. Why did you decide to move?" Because, despite her reasoning, she's still a bit mystified. "My father died," is the simplest answer V'teri can offer. "And he was a pig farmer out in Reaches land. And then there was the matter of my curiosity getting the better of me and now?" The athletic man picks at the ice with the brittle tip of his skates, all the way looking to Brieli evenly. "Now I try to stay out of the eye of the leadership if at all possible. I've caused enough trouble to last me lifetimes and though it seems to have come out fine, there was a time there I wasn't sure it would really. I'm V'teri, bronze Riuscyth's rider, and I'm the unfortunate soul that managed to kick start the discovery of my long lost relatives." To Riuscyth, Iesaryth's certainly a bit chilled - a tide that might usually be warm rolls out in greyer, colder tones. « Do we? There are others here, she says. That he was once of here, our sire. It makes sense that we should be. » Is that cunning that flashes in copper streaks in Riuscyth's mind? Or some form of higher intelligence that simmers beneath the languid lazy warmth of his thoughts. There are no more words from the dark, sleek bronze, only that hint of observation, of subtle, distant appreciation and perhaps an unspoken: 'lift your spars up' sense that is shared in a shifting image of the young queen's ice glide from what is to what should be. (Riuscyth to Iesaryth) Arching fine brows for all of that, Brieli looks back at V'teri, looks at that toe picking at the ice. After watching the shards fly for a few moments, she glances back up to ask easily, "So if you're trying to avoid the leadership, why come talk to me? You must know any one of us could end up being just that. Or is that more curiosity?" She considers that for a moments after she finishes, then; "I'm sorry. That your father died and that you've caused yourself trouble. I didn't mean to sound..." Harsh, maybe. To Riuscyth, Iesaryth might be curious, ocean waves glinting under a winter moon - but not so curious that she'll pursue thought in favor of action, in favor of trying to lift her spars as suggested, to catch the wind and sort-of fly. Stupid older weyrlings. Unfazed, V'teri waves off her apology. "Thanks, but it was his time. We're all dying at different rates." Somehow, something so morbid sounds almost jovial in his tenor. "Some of us are going slower. Others are racing towards that finish line as if it's the end goal. And maybe it is. He had a good life, even if he were an adopted pig farmer." Slow strides carry him fluidly back to the shore, those ice shards flying again as he comes to an abrupt stop right upon Brieli. Perhaps even nose-to-nose if she doesn't flinch or move away. There's a smile, that ghosts of an impish youth not all gone. "Cause, this entire situation is a little too interesting not to want to get close to. My curiosity, again. It'll be the death of me some day, you know." To Iesaryth, Riuscyth approves. There's a sudden inkiness to his thoughts, though it doesn't diminish in the heated Monaco warmth that lingers in his core being. And as the backdrop of his mental touch darkens, those copper streaks illuminate even further like little shooting stars that arc towards her winter moon, only to end up falling into those ocean waves. With a dubious tone, "That's one way to look at it." Brieli isn't really buying it, it seems. "Had a good life," she echoes. "People say that like it matters. I wonder if it does, in the end." She certainly doesn't sound jovial; more dark and bitter than anything else - no ray of sunshine, this weyrling. At least, not tonight. As V'teri skates closer and shows no immediate signs of stopping, she does take one step back - so not quite nose to nose. Flatly, "Is it. Which particular situation?" Dark eyes are wary, and it's too easy to add, "It might be." Something about the gliding is fine and enough for now for Iesaryth, but she knows it's not flying - she's done that, even not with her own wings. So it's all ultimately a little disappointing. Even so, the falling stars please her, reflecting in the water before disappearing beneath the waves, rhythm of the tide constant. (Iesaryth to Riuscyth) "Now, maybe your curiosity will be the death of you." It's all too easily uttered. Perhaps he doesn't even really have a true reason or explanation of what this situation might be. V'teri doesn't even bother to exchange his skates in favor of boots as he steps off the ice to walk around Brieli. "See you later, flocked little lamb. Maybe, when you can drink again, I can buy you one at the Snowasis or other, further and less snowed-in bars." But it's for Iesaryth he stops, turning towards where the gold glides, and affects the smallest, most courtesy bow. "It was a pleasure, skating with you, my queen." There's even a little flourish of his yarn-ball topped knit hat. Then, he's off to well- probably that bar. With a little diffident shrug that likely belies how much she'll overthink the whole thing, Brieli waits till V'teri's picked his way around her to point out, "I can drink. Just not very much." Which is better for all involved? "Nice to meet you." She'll even turn around for that, in time to catch the bow and hats-off to Iesaryth, who is making her way back to shore. The gold rumbles in return as her rider slides her way over towards her, less graceful than either bronzerider or dragon, but now with the shade of a smile. |
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