Logs:Grumpy, Frazzled, Enchanting and Overwhelmed
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| RL Date: 18 October, 2015 |
| Who: L'ton, Pia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Two brand new weyrlings. Two brand new dragons. |
| Where: Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 14, Month 1, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Quinlys/Mentions |
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| Out in the caverns, the hatching feast is still in full swing; despite those three sad eggs, the mood is celebratory. Pia had been out there, though her family-- here for the hatching, at least-- are long since gone. Now, however, she skips back through the snow and into the barracks, leaving footprints on the floor as she calls in that lilting, cheery voice: "Lu-- Luishaeth? I'm back." Are others sleeping? Is Luishaeth sleeping? Not anymore. Despite not having family present, though he made some noise about them being somewhere, but nothing concrete, L'ton made his rounds, flashing his smile at several someones and wearing that euphoric tiredness characteristic of many weyrlings. But he's returned long before Pia did, changed into his pajamas, brushed his teeth, the full nine yards, and has finally settled down by Ruiyath right about the time the new greenrider wakes everyone else up, including his sleeping bronze. "You!" he accuses, without rancor. "Oops!" is, to be fair, actually apologetic. Pia even flushes, bringing one hand up to her mouth in dismay. She forgot. "Sorry!" That isn't quite as loud as the first, but nor is it a whisper-- and nor has she stopped talking altogether, as she skips back to her cot (so conveniently located near L'ton's) to sit, and gather Luishaeth up into her lap. The green is only half away herself, even now, and the tendrils of salt-washed thought she extends outwards are distinctly grumpy. Ruiyath wriggles his newly egg-free body, shimming up from his fine-wrought tail tip to his glowy, overly large head. He then groans and slumps in his couch, and even though L'ton isn't angry, his whirling eyes are baleful on Pia. « She is interesting, » he says to Luishaeth and every other dragon in the room. Interesting could be a synonym for loud, annoying, please tell her to shut up, but Ruiyath is being exceedingly polite. "You're not really sorry. If you were, you would stop doing what you have to be sorry for, but it's ok. I'm fine with that." L'ton runs a hand down his dragon's back, rubbing fingers up and down the ridges until he calms. "Elaiton... I mean, L'ton, or Lai. I'm not really sure how this works now." « Go on, say what you really mean, » encourages Luishaeth tartly, more amused than bothered by the assessment (or its overly politic overtones). « She's annoying as all get out, but she's my annoying, so it's fine. » Pia rubs at her dragon's headknobs, long fingers stretching to capture their entire width beneath her palm. "I guess," she agrees. "It's all just a bit much, and... it's nice to meet you, Lai. I'll go with that. I'm Pia. This is Luishaeth. I don't think I saw you before all of this, so that means you must be even newer than I am, and probably even more overwhelmed." "Lai and Pia. You spell it P-I-A? I spell mine L-A-I. And our dragons sound similar too. Luishaeth and Ruiyath" Coincidences abound, and that causes L'ton to grin toothily at the other weyrling, in spite of the overwhelmedness he must be feeling. "Oh, yeah. I mean... I came in last night, Impressed this morning, and I don't think anything's quite sunk in yet. It really is something new, like Quinlys suggested. Something new, something not so bad, maybe even good." He looks at Ruiyath who is struggling to go back to sleep in the dragon equivalent of tossing and turning. He ends up on his back, limbs in the air and wiggles some more. Pia's eyes light for these coincidences; "How perfect!" she tells Lai, though at least now she's moderating her voice to a slightly lower decibel count. "But: maybe even good? Shells, no. It's amazing. We'll never, ever be alone again. We haven't really talked about my plans, yet, but Luishaeth seems sensible, so I think I'm well on my way. I'm," she explains, as something of an after-thought, "going to make maps from the air. That's what I do; I'm a starcrafter." Pause. "Was a starcrafter, anyway." Luishaeth, too, has curled up, and if she's half shifted away from Pia's hand, well. Not everyone craves physical touch. « Is she going to talk like this all the time? » Ruiyath is frazzled. He's tired. He was JUST born today for Faranth's sake. Giving up on sleep, the bronze rolls himself off L'ton's cot and moves away from Pia to the other side of the room as if that will make anything of this situation better. "I... sorry," says L'ton, a sheepish hand in his hair, ruffling his front locks. "He's not in a good mood right now, but when it happened, he was in the best mood. I... was too. I almost forgot how it felt to be happy." "Wasn't it amazing? That-- moment." Pia, it seems, is without words to effectively describe. She does, however, add: "I am sorry. Do you want me to stop talking? I think I could talk to Luishaeth inside my head the way I think most riders do. I will try to be less loud." « 'fraid so, » Luishaeth answers, promptly. « And you don't have her yapping in your head, so count your blessings. She means well, though. » Deep beneath those winter-dark waves is a hint of censure; only Luishaeth gets to insult Pia, thank you very much! L'ton shakes his head, in a negation he will surely regret later, and waves off Pia's apology and offer. "He's just grouchy right now. I think you're enchanting, except," there is that but, "I'm coming. I'm coming." He looks apologetically at Pia and gathers his bedding up with one sweeping arm, but leaves his press over here. "See you tomorrow morning. Hope I won't be a weepy mess when it all finally hits me." Ruiyath radiates less grumpiness now that his rider is coming to his beckon. « It was your choice, » is said much like it's your funeral. "Oh," says Pia, the syllable ending on a hovering pause. "No, no, of course. Sleep well, Lai!" Enchanting. What a delight! She's effervescent to the end, and if Luishaeth crawls away, now, and back towards her couch... well. It is time for sleep. But first: « She's mine, » a possessive note, very nearly warm. |
Comments
Squishy (23:30, 18 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
Lu. XD
<< 'fraid so, >> Luishaeth answers, promptly. << And you don't have her yapping in your head, so count your blessings. She means well, though. >>
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