Logs:Smiths N' 'Snakes
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| RL Date: 4 March, 2013 |
| Who: Xhaeon, Azaylia, Kaeden, Wakizian |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Azaylia goes looking for a Smith and finds Xhaeon. Kaeden finds tunnelsnakes. Wakizian finds he and the weyrwomen have things in common. |
| Where: Craft Complex, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 24, Month 2, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Heavy rain in the middle of winter only means that the temperature is only a few degrees above freezing; it's more miserable for the soaking torrents. |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, Riorde/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions |
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| Craft Complex, High Reaches Weyr A passageway hewn into the rock and heavily patched with cement leads a short distance in to the bowl wall, with a door on either side. Lit by regularly spaced glows, the white-washed walls have been covered over by colorful tapestries, wall hangings and pieces of art made from metal and wood. To the left of the entranceway, just a single step inside, a spiral staircase opens out of the wall, leading upwards through the stone. Further down, a doorway opens to either side of the corridor, while at the far end, there is a hewn-stone staircase leading up to the residential quarters, wreathed by two final doors to private quarters and the bathing room. The door leading to the east opens into an expansive room that seems to provide both general working space - with long, bare benches and chairs - and a cozy lounge complete with over-stuffed sofas and a few fuzzy armchairs. Three tall windows are carved into the stone, and offer air and light when the heavy wooden shutters are left open, though the lounge area has to make do mostly with glows. A hearth at the back of the room provides both heat and basic cooking facilities. The white-washed walls are bedecked with decoration - from quilts, to tapestries, to wooden carvings and metal sculptures. The western door leads into another passage, off of which the main workrooms have been built. The loading dock is at the northern end, leading back out into the bowl, with the rest of the rooms leading deeper and deeper into the wall. Settled in the plush lobby is one Xhaeon, a cluster of rather adorable mini-smiths surrounding him like a mess of baby ducks. He's evidently giving an informal lesson in engineering, and the reactions are mixed: some of the boys look bored, while the two girls edge closer and closer, asking about mathematical minutae with a charm and interest that has very little to do with angles and degrees. Xhaeon reaches an end, and send them on their way with a shooing gesture and a firm statement of, "And off with you! Clean up before lunch, or journeyman Wilsem will have ALL of our arses!" There's a half-smile as he watches the cluster disperse, chattering amongst themselves with all the happy volume of a normal group of teenagers. The sound of pounding rain does well in masking Azaylia's quick footfalls, running into the complex, and nearly into one of Xhaeon's recently freed flock. "O-oh!" She dodges well, soaked cloak slapping wetly, unpleasantly, against the back of her legs. Forgotten manners can be forgiven, her face hidden until she's shrugging hood and cape off to hang it somewhere it can dry. The weyrwoman manages not to look too much like a drowned wherry, purposeful glance aimed towards the smith workroom though she's making a dart for the lobby. The hearth, specifically. Xhaeon will get a quick smile during her quest for warmth, something about it apologetic, possibly for the almost run-in with those mini-smiths. It isn't like she's not instantly recognizable, what with being a goldrider and all. When she takes off her cloak, Xhaeon's eyebrows rise in consternation, brow creased after his erstwhile apprentice. He crosses towards her, his strides measured, unhurried but not lazy. "Sorry about that, weyrwoman. Can I get you a mug of klah? They just brought us a fresh batch of biscuits." He seems to be talking about the plate of tasty pastries, miraculously untouched from the teenagers, hanging out near the hearth. "Or were you here looking for someone particularly?" Azaylia still isn't used to being recognized, at least by someone she doesn't have a name for. Squeak and turn, "Sorry?" Her eyes shift to the gaggle of teens, "Oh, no. I wasn't looking where I was going either. It happens." Brown eyes dip to spy his knot, polite smile growing just a touch warmer. "Klah sounds wonderful. I had a few questions for a Smith..." The source of her amusement might be obvious. Now the crafters come to you! "I just didn't realize how bad the rain was, when I left my weyr." So for now, the forge will be spared for as long as it takes her to get some klah and a few biscuits. Though she has accepted his offer, the goldrider will insist on pouring her own mug rather than bother the journeyman. Poor Azaylia. Xhaeon offers an immediately wry expression for her squeaking and turning-- he didn't mean to startle her, really. At her words, he starts to head towards the hearth, but is cut off by her own actions. "It is pretty bad out there." His gaze heads towards the exit, belatedly finding the situation as humorous as the woman herself; then the big smith shakes his head. "Oh? Well, I may be able to help you with that, then. What kinds of things do you have questions about?" The man helps himself to warming his own klah (and one of those tasty-looking pastries), and settles back down into his prior seat, gesturing expansively to all the available, way-comfy seating around him. "I wouldn't want to keep you..." Given the stampede of sorts from earlier, though Xhaeon seemed to be the source. But the journeyman is grabbing some klah and sitting, so Azaylia aims for a seat across from him. After quickly devouring several patries, and bringing one along, that is. "I'm afraid I don't know anything about the Smithcraft, what tools or materials are used. Though, I'm beginning to think you have to be a certain height to get in." The usually tall woman teases harmlessly before getting on to her question, "Would it be possible to make anything out of dragon egg shells? Say, beads or... anything, really?" "I think we tend to get all the tall ones," Xhaeon replies, his tone one of low amusement. At the request, though, he pauses, thoughtful. "I suppose that we could dry egg-shards in a few different manners, maybe kiln-bake a few samples, see what we could get done. I'm sure if we find the right combination of drying and perhaps... glazing, before working with the material, we could come up with something. It would just be a matter of collecting the raw materials and seeing what it most likely resembles as far as media goes." He pauses, taps a finger absently against his upper lip, obviously turning the question over in his mind. "If nothing else, we could probably shatter them into small enough pieces and suspend them in glass globes -- little ornaments." The smith and the weyrwoman are seated in the lobby, which is empty; it's raining like cats-and-dogs outside, and the sound of the rain against the roof is a soothing susseration. From the direction of the workrooms, one of the candidates emerges bearing a burlap sack, its contents heavy enough to cause a slow pendulum's swing. He is also carrying a long spear-like tool with an odd fork on the end, while a machete hangs from one hip. Kaeden's face and arms have seen better days, with dirt covering the first, and mud, grit, and possibly blood covering the second. He slows, having spotted Azaylia and Xhaeon, slowing to heft the spear slightly in greeting. Sack, spear and machete are set off to the side before he sets to work trying to wipe the worst of the gore from his forearms. Tunnelsnake duty. Good times. "What are you guys shattering?" The weyrwoman is focused on Xhaeon as he verbally puzzles over her question, interested eyes wide as she makes short work of her biscuit. "I don't know what they're made of." Candidate dreams and goo? "But even if I did, I don't know what sort of, ah, media Smiths use." Azaylia learned a new word. She takes a few sips from her mug, interrupted by her own excitement, "Oh. Could you really? That sounds so pretty..." And exceptionally bead-like. Kaeden's arrival would normally bring on a smile, but given the state he's in the candidate is greeted with concern that borders on alarm. "A..ahm. Eggs. They shatter themselves but we-- What happened to you? Are you alright?" She's near to scooting off the edge of her seat and inspecting him if he doesn't answer fast enough. "Oh," embarrassment flickers across the lines of Xhaeon's face, and he shifts in his seat, leaning forward and setting his klah-mug aside. "Well, we work with wood and metal and stone, and paper and glass. Depending on what the shells look like when they dry, we could emboss them or glaze them with colors representing what they looked like previous to them dryi--" He pauses in his rendition when Kaeden arrives. "Find a lot of them, did you?" is his sympathetic question, eyeing Kaeden's rather big... sack. It's not as bad as it sounds. Kaeden stops with a handkerchief at about his elbow while he stares at Azaylia for a second. "Happened? I'm fine..." The handkerchief is pushed down his arm, then the state of said item is hefted as he grins. "Just tunnelsnake gunk, mostly," Kaed explains, "plus a gash when I cut myself like a moron. Nothing too bad." Xhaeon gets a wide, crooked smile. "Couple little ones, and one big, mean ol'... thing. Do you know what I'm supposed to do with these?" he asks a beat later, nudging the burlap with a toe. "Kitchens? Ash pit? Dragons?" Azaylia has at least heard of tunnelsnake duty, even if she can't identify the aftermath of such. "Oh. Is your cut alright?" She'll still fret, if slightly less. As for what to do with the bag of death, "You can take it out to the bowl when you're ready, and Hraedhyth will call out to the firelizards." A dead tunnelsnake can't fight back, after all, which makes for easy pickings. "It's... kind of frightening. When they swarm." After her warning, she turns back to the journeyman smith, "Someone showed an interest in egg-shell jewelry, and I can't say I'm not interested. I think it might also be nice, if it was possible for future weyrlings to have something of their lifemate's shell." "Hang on," Xhaeon states, lifting a hand peremptorily. "You need to get that cleaned. Tunnelsnake gunk isn't anything to mess around with." And because this is in close proximity to the forge and other workshops, does it surprise anyone that he crosses to a large, fairly well-stocked first-aid kit centrally located? "Have a seat and I'll clean it for you. Don't want it to get infected, trust me." He's pulling out a cleaning cloth, a vial of redwort, and salve with a methodology that suggests this isn't his first time conducting minor doctoring. "I would imagine it would be possible," is his distracted comment to Azaylia. "I'm sure after the hatching I can help, ah... harvest? them. The eggshells, that is." While one of Kaeden's next stop definitely needs to be the baths, it's still undecided whether or not the infirmary will be added to that list. He's done what he can with the handkerchief, which, after a couple moments of hesitation, gets dropped into the burlap bag, too. Gross. To be dealt with later. "Right, firelizards. Thanks, ma'am, I'll do that," he answers, giving Azaylia a smart little nod. Then there is a moment of trying to tug his arm about so he can get a better look at the scrape on his left arm's triceps. The young man then allows himself to be led over by the older smith candidate, though he balks a little at taking a seat. "Sorry, I got pretty gross back there," he shares in a murmur. "Glad I was thorough, though. That bi---ig one looks like it was going to lay eggs or something. That or it ate a terrier." Then, to Azaylia, "Is it easy to separate all that out after? I can't tell some of them apart now." The journeyman will earn a grateful glance from Azaylia as he acts quickly, rising from her seat to watch as he doctors his fellow candidate. "He's right." Not terribly helpful this moment, and by her sheepish expression she knows it. Nursing her klah in both hands, she answers Kaeden with a smile, "Both Hraedhyth and Iesaryth know which eggs are theirs." Not that they, or their riders are likely to tell. "I'm hoping they'll be able to tell even after they've hatched." But even she doesn't seem so sure. As for Xhaeon's offer, "Not if you have a baby dragon who's hungry and demanding all of your time." A playful threat. Xhaeon hasn't much care for Kaeden's standing, nodding assent. Sarcasm infiltrates his Telgar-accented baritone. "That's right, you should be sorry about getting filthy while chasing tunnelsnakes down. Don't you have any proper priorities?" His teeth flash white against his skin, but he doesn't bother to look up from his work to smile, ripping Kaeden's shirt with little apology to get to the scrape. "This'll sting," is his only warning, before he gets down to the business of it. He makes appropriate noises at Azaylia's commentary regarding eggs and knowing, but his rather ungentlemanly snort of amusement at the end comment - about a hungry baby dragon - probably isn't the most politic thing he's ever done in his life. "I wasn't sure if I was doing it right," Kaeden explains. He's over by the lounge where Xhaeon is cleaning up a nasty looking scrape while Azaylia looks on. By the state of the younger, shorter candidate, he's been on his hands and knees in the dusty, murkier corners of the Weyr today, and there's a neatly stashed burlap bag off to the side, holding a few dead tunnelsnakes, and held down by a forked spear and a machete. "It would be pretty cool to have something of the shell a dragon came out of," he agrees, trying to see what Xhaeon is doing to his left arm. Blink blink. Azaylia looks startled by Xhaeon's snort and not even annoyed afterwards. "It could happen." She insists, gently. "To you, and you." Eyes find Kaeden, though for the moment he's innocent of any ungentlemanly snorts. There might be a hint of something more firm as one hand finds her hip, the other still holding her klah, "If you don't want to Impress, then why are you standing for our eggs?" When it comes to those baking ovoids, protective nature is spread evenly between gold and rider. Kaeden's words aid in softening that suddenly focused stare on the taller candidate, and she gives a soft nod, "I wish I had thought to save something of Hraedhyth's shell. But, well... I was distracted." And bleeding. Xhaeon is, in fact, undaintily cleaning the wound with redwort, making sure nothing remains that is unsanitized, before daubing salve over the scrape and sealing it with one of those marvelous adhesive-edged gauze patches that the smiths can't exist without. Straightening from his work, he looks momentarily abashed; "My apologies, weyrwoman. I didn't mean to imply--" But she's going on, and he's wincing visibly. "It's not that," he protests belatedly: "It's just, well, I'd never had a dragon look twice at me in all the search lines I've stood for at the main hall, and A'quin, wel--" He brushes off his search. "It is an honor to Stand, ma'am, and I am very sorry if I made it seem that I don't consider it an honor." (He just thinks it's a pretty political showing of smithcraft solidarity with the weyr, that's all. Nbd.) The infirmary must have sensed a Smith in need. Either that, or they know that they need to resupply the Craft Complex's first aid items regularly. Wakizian arrives with a medium-sized crate in arm that is piled high with freshly rolled gauze and various other supplies. The thing about the Craft Complex is that there are first aid kits stashed all over the place, so he makes the rounds (since he seems to know exactly where all of them are) before approaching the lounge with the last of his supplies. Seeing familiar faces, his focus is lost and Waki heads for the three. He arrives in time to see Xhaeon applying the bandage, and offers cheerfully, "Need anything else?" The box is tilted towards the Smith so he can fish for what he likes, if he likes anything. A friendly smile and polite nod is offered to Kaeden and Azaylia. A low whistle is given when he takes in the snakes, and a complimentary: "Niiice." Kaeden manages not to cry when that redwort starts breaking through the meager layer of scabbing, but there is a lot of wincing, and a white tinge starts to cut through his usual tones. Once the worst of it is done (or the nerves are desensitized), he starts splitting his attention between Azaylia and Xhaeon, while holding his arm just so while the smith applies the final bandaging. Kaed flexes his left hand a little, just working through the last tendrils of sensation. "Thanks, man," he tells Xhaeon quietly, giving that arm a last shake. Wakizian gets a lopsided, tiny smile. "Soon to be some happy firelizards out in the bowl." If Azaylia is anything, it's forgiving. "Oh." Xhaeon will still earn himself a long look, though this one is much more curious. "I undestand not being sure of yourself." Does she ever! "As someone who asked to Stand, it doesn't matter how you got Searched." She brings her mug up to faintly curled lips, apology accepted and fiery queen satisfied. "Wakizian." The goldrider greets after the sip, all delicate warmth once again. She teeters, leaning around the tall journeyman in order to see his work, glance and encouraging smile aimed at Kaeden. He'll live. "Ah, no, I'm good. Thanks, though, Lady Smith." Xhaeon's amusement to the apprentice is genial, easily teasing. To Kaeden, his headshake is appropriately guy-like: "Nothing to it, man." His flashed smile to Azaylia is a little embarassed, but he doesn't go to correct anything she says. It's about this time that a younger apprentice comes flailing in from the area of the forge, babbling on-and-on about some mishap. (Why does it *always* have to be the forge?) Xhaeon sighs - heavily - and waves quickly to those gathered, salutes Azaylia, and disappears without quite properly saying goodbye. "Anytime, sir!" Wakizian calls over his shoulder to the departing Journeyman. The tone is brushed with sarcasm, and the eye roll doesn't help. Then again, Xhaeon is probably one of the ones he has to thank for making sure that story of his Turnover costume lives a long and insidious life. "Getting yourself battle scars to prove your valor?" The younger smith queries of the Tunnel Snake Terror. "You'll be every firelizard's hero tonight, by the looks of things." He flashes a smile first to the other candidate and then to the Weyrwoman. "All well on the Sands?" Kaeden waves quickly to the departing Xhaeon, then he starts rubbing his hands together. Now that at least one part of him is clean, the rest feels that much dirtier. Wakizian gets a small, amused smile. "Had hunting duty today and got a little carried away. I'm not sure what got my arm, but it wasn't a tunnelsnake." He stops rubbing his hands together and starts brushing them off on already dirty trousers before he grimaces. "I think... I'd better get some clean clothes and hit the baths. Ma'am," he says politely to Azaylia. "Wakizian." No "Lady Smith"s from this guy, at least. In short order, he's retrieved his 'snake-hunting tools and the lumpy bag. "I'll leave these for the firelizards first," Kaed promises before heading in the direction of the bowl. In the time that it takes her to drain her mug, candidates are dropping like flies. First Xhaeon, who slips during one of her sips, and then Kaeden, who she manages with a, "Keep that cut clean. And let them have plenty of room!" 'Them' being the horrifying swarm of firelizards that are likely to descend upon Kaeden's kills. Azaylia takes a moment to do a headcount, eyes landing and staying on Wakizian. "Things are fine, thank you." Peeking into her empty mug, she walks the short distance to refill it. "Do you need a klah break? The rain outside is just terrible." She's still fairly soaked. "How are your duties?" The ones she's trying to lure him away from. And then there were two. Wakizian's dark brows furrow and he makes a little show of sniffing his armpit. "Do I smell that bad? I swear I bathed this morning. Or last night. But definitely within the last day." The Smith's baritone is plaintive and he gives Azaylia a clearly dramatized woe is me face. "Or maybe it was something I said. I guess I need to work on my natural magnetism. I think I've got the wrong pole going for me." Ba-dum-ching! Smith humor at it's best: still not very good. "A klah break would be great. And actually, if I just put these in that box there," He points a finger to where the first aid kit is tucked in the lounge, "I'll be all done my duties and can take all the time I like with klah." He sets about doing just that as he chats. "I don't mind the rain so much. It's a change from snow, which after so much, it's kind of a nice change. Though I could wish for sun. Duties are fine. It's a lot though, between Smithing stuff and regular candidate duties, not much time left to get into trouble." The hint of a playful smile tugs at his lips. Azaylia tries not to look terribly amused by Wakizian's antics, and fails. With a quirky smile and an expression that fails to properly scold, "Either you smell, or I was too mean." While the first is meant to be a joke, she's quite serious when speaking of her own behavior. The goldrider refills her mug while grabbing a second for Wakizian, walking to offer it to the smith-candidate midway. "I didn't realize how much rain it was. It is a nice change, if you're planning on staying inside." Lips purse to cool the surface of her drink, motioning towards the seats since abandoned by Xhaeon. "I think that's the point of duties. I'm glad you're not having trouble." "Mean?" Curiosity is plain in Waki's voice. "Were you threatening their dessert privileges?" The query is obviously meant to show just what kind of mean he thinks the goldrider capable of. The first aid supplies are quickly homed in the kit and the now empty crate is set aside. He accepts the klah with a smile and quiet, "Thank you," moving to settle into one of the empty seats. "Well, rain looks good on you." He offers with a cheeky grin. That sassy attitude only continues as he comments, "I'm told that getting in trouble can be a good time. If only I knew first hand. You would be shocked how few candidates are interested in getting in trouble. I think it's one of the most tame classes I've ever seen. Not that I paid much attention before." His tone turns thoughtful. "Though I guess there were some that wanted to get in trouble after the party the other night when Taikrin brought out the whiskey for us." "No." Azaylia is unbothered by the tease, if still worried over seeming a tyrant goldrider. "I assumed wrong. Jour-- uhm, Candidate Xhaeon seemed didn't seem interested in impressing. It... worried Hreadhyth. For a moment." She explains, taking the same seat she had before, one that is across from Wakizian. His mockliment has her smoothing a hand over wrinkled, damp dress and pushing soaked locks back down onto her head. "You shouldn't be trying to get into trouble. You can have fun after candidacy. And maybe, weyrlinghood." It's not a lecture, the woman's words offered easily and with perhaps a touch of experience. "Ah." She swallows, not looking uncomfortable but, "I had heard about that party Taikrin had thrown for you." Likely after the fact, as she didn't make any concerned appearances. "Well, if you think about it, Journeyman Xhaeon has more to lose in the way of a life already begun than someone who hasn't walked tables. I suppose that's why there aren't too many Journeymen that accept the offer the Stand. Do you know if he asked to stand or was asked? I'm sure he wouldn't have accepted in any case if he wasn't willing to take the chance of giving it all up." Wakizian's tone is thoughtful. He fidgets with his mug of klah as he talks, maybe making more sense of the whole thing once it's outside his head. Then he wrinkles his nose, "Staying out of trouble - you know they said that about apprenticeship too. A guy has to wonder what it's really like to be on the other side of the that particular fence. Is the grass really greener over there?" His eyebrows are lifted in question, though the tone is only half-serious. "Did you not go to the party?" Having been there only a brief time himself, the who's who of the guest list is not something he knows. Wakizian's point of view is taken into careful consideration, that much obvious by the thoughtful tilt to Azaylia's head. "I believe he was asked by a dragonrider." The name escapes her, even if she's just heard it. "I suppose he does have... more to lose." She's not particularly fond of the phrasing, "Then again, I was only an apprentice. I had more to lose by not impressing." At the mention of trouble, her brows lift far too innocently, hiding a smile behind the mug she lifts to her lips, "Mmm." Like a responsible adult, she makes an attempt to change the subject. "I didn't, no. I heard it was... interesting, though." Wakizian, in turn, seems to weigh her words and choice of wording carefully. "Were you running away from something when you asked to stand? Or-- what was it that you would have lost if you didn't Impress?" He lifts the klah to his lips and blows on it a moment before taking a few small sips. "Wish you'd come to the party. The food was all greasy," He ate a lot of it anyway, of course. "And everyone was-- I dunno. Everyone seemed uncomfortable. It was weird. But then, I wasn't wearing my party dress. So it might be my fault that the party wasn't a riot." He smiles at the goldrider over the edge of his mug. Azaylia's gaze wanders at his question, scanning the complex that was once so familiar to her. "It was... I don't know if you remember when several 'halls were pulling crafters from the Weyr? When K'del and Tiriana were... before Tiriana was transferred." It might seem odd, now, that ousting a Weyrwoman had once been the biggest scandal conceived. "I didn't want to lose what had begun to feel like home, so I asked to stand." Her words are even more soft than usual, glossing over what unpleasant details she needs to in order to keep her answer short. "Then I got Hraedhyth." The fond quirk to her lips grows into a true smile, "Do you? I don't know if I'd have been much fun. I probably would have tried to keep people out of trouble." She's a wet blanket like that. Concerned, "Uncomfortable?" The joke about his party dress only lessens the pinch in her brow slightly. As Azaylia talks, Waki begins to stare. No winks, no blinks, not even a twitch to be seen! His brows knit together when she finishes and he leans forward, "Are you pulling my leg?" He takes a deep breath and sits back, "Because if you are, I could probably start to see what you were talking about with the mean thing." It would be a cruel joke to play, to pretend to be so much alike if it weren't true. "The party was just -- I donno. It felt forced, to me. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea when everyone's so tense about who's leader and who's not." He doesn't comment further on that topic since he's already made his opinions clear to Azaylia, but he does give her a meaningful look. "I... what? No!" Azaylia murmurs, eyes wide with surprise as she tries not to look hurt by his accusation. "I know it's not very glamorous for a goldrider... or something you'd read in a harper's novel. But it's the truth." It certainly sounds it, even as her eyes drop to look into her mug, a touch self conscious. She manages to recover quickly enough, glancing back up at Wakizian's face, "Maybe it wasn't, if other candidates feel the same way you do. I'm sure Taikrin was just trying to get to know you." His meaningful look catches her by surprise, but she doesn't look away. "There isn't anyone left to... challenge the leadership." Whether displeased or relieved by this, she manages to keep her feelings on the subject hidden. The genuineness of Azaylia's reaction has Wakizian's tongue tripping over itself to apologize, "Augh, sorry! I just--" His mug is set on the table and both hands come up and rub across his face. "It just sounded-- Well, improbable that you and I could be so similar." He bites his lower lip. "Azaylia." He takes a deep breath, color coming into his cheeks, "I know I don't know you well, and I'm a candidate, and you're a weyrwoman, and I don't know if you and Taikrin are-- or you and anybody else are --" He stammers a moment, and then he more blurts than says: "If I don't Impress, and especially if it means I get reassigned somewhere else, could I-- take you--" He gulps. "--on a date?" The candidate's fumbling leaves Azaylia confused, her own mug set down so she can ease closer to Wakizian, "Why? I wasn't always a weyrwoman. I'm sure there are a lot of people like me. And you." She adds, since he claims that they are so similar. The goldrider doesn't seem bothered by the idea of not being unique. "Taikrin and I..?" Any explanation is lost in a breathless squeak. After a moment of startled silence Azaylia relaxes with a soft laugh, one that's meant to be reassuring, not mocking. Leaning back, she rests her chin atop her hand, elbow supported by the armrest, "Taikrin has a girlfriend. Weyrmate." Or so the brownrider claims, "Riorde." She isn't so cruel as to leave him hanging for long, "You could. I'd... like that. You seem like a good-- man." Not boy. "Which is why I'd also like it if you impressed." Not that it seems like she's already trying to weasel out of her answer. Wakizian is as rosy as a foggy sunrise, but once she's accepted, the color starts to shift back to his usual dusky tan. He sits in silence for a long moment, perhaps stunned to have received a positive response. His lips curve gently into a pleased smile. "Good." Pause. "Awesome actually. Amazing. Wonderful!" Excited much? Just a bit. He tries to keep it under control, but his reaction definitely goes too far to be considered playing it cool. He can't seem to stop grinning. "Well, now part of me doesn't want to Impress. I'd have to wait that much longer to take you on a date. Though I suppose if you told me I could take you on one, if you weren't otherwise spoken for by the time I finished weyrlinghood that I could keep an open mind about Impressing." He leans forward, setting both elbows on the table and his chin coming to rest on his hands. Azaylia watches with muted amusement, far more confident in this that Wakizian seems to be. "It's not all of that." She argues with a soft laugh, sitting up straight once again, hands smoothing over her drying skirt. "Don't say that. A dragon is worth more than a date. A hundred dates." The goldrider's scold is delicate but heartfelt. "Dragonriders... are different about these sorts of things. I can't imagine I'd be weyrmated, no." She gives it genuine thought, answering with nothing in her tone to suggest she's bothered by it. When he leans forward, she can't help but give his nose a soft poke, "If you survive weyrlinghood, I don't see why not." If she's trying to scare him, she should try to do so without smiling. "Though it wouldn't surprise me if you didn't set your sights on a clutchhmate by then." One closer to his own age, maybe. "I won't argue the perception of the worth of a date with you because I just don't think we'll ever see eye to eye about it." Wakizian's tone has turned to one that is cheerily carefree. If any of her words were intended to scare him, they've missed their mark. "Dragonriders-- goldriders especially-- you, especially, can be as different as you like. I'm just glad I get to take you on a date. I've got ideas already." He grins. He wiggles his nose a bit at the poke, but doesn't seem to object. "As for setting my sights on a clutchmate, if I even Impress," His tone is doubtful, "May I ask... have you met the girls in this class? They're terrifying." His expression is deadpan though his tone is emphatic. "Pretty sure they'd sooner punch me than kiss me. And eventually, I'd like to kiss someone again. More than once this time." His eyes go to Azaylia's face and his glance slides down to her lips before returning to her eyes. Azaylia eases back with an inhale, doing her best to keep her face as straight as possible. She fails, another laugh leaving her, "You're persistent." Sounds endearing, when she says it, aiming for a reminder that's more of a tease. "It's probably why you almost got punched." The goldrider is all too aware of where Wakizian's attention is drifting, expression shifting into something playful. "Kissing is allowed." For candidates. "You just can't go having any little Smiths while wearing a white knot." She's fighting off a smile, really and truly trying to remain a good and proper goldrider. "Now kissing a weyrwoman... that's different. I should know better." And she does, so for now he'll simply have to look. "So it's my persistence that gets me punched?" Wakizian queries, then abruptly stands. "Then I'd best quit while I'm ahead. I'm holding you to our date whether it's in a few sevendays to a few months to a couple of turns." His hands touch the tabletop and he leans closer to the rider, "As for the kissing..." He reaches out a large, calloused hand to snag one of hers and leans down while lifting it up to his lips, brushing an innocent kiss across it's back. "The real kind, that is." He releases her hand. "We can talk about that on a day when you don't know better even though you should." He winks. See? He can be smooth. It's just punctuated by a whole lotta awkward! He smiles. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Azaylia. You've been the highlight of mine." And with that, Wakizian is walking away, whistling (out of tune) cheerfully. Once Wakizian's on his way, Azaylia no longer has to try to hide her pleasant, though baffled smile from behind her hand. The same one that was kissed. She glances down at her knuckles as a breathless chuckle escapes her, head shaking as the weyrwoman rises to her feet. She takes a moment to gather her damp cloak as well as the courage required to brave the downpour, now that she's somewhat dry. Sigh. |
Comments
K'del (K'del (talk)) left a comment on Tue, 05 Mar 2013 11:14:14 GMT.
< Waki and Zay, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-GBot (talk)
No, really. That scene was awesome, in all its parts.
Ainslee (Castandcrew (talk)) left a comment on Tue, 05 Mar 2013 14:06:31 GMT.
< I love these scenes where there's kind of a natural ebb and flow of people coming and leaving. It feels so natural. I'm glad to have been part of this one. ^^;
Waki asking Azaylia out, though? HILARIOUS. XD
Ceawlin (Ceawlin (talk)) left a comment on Tue, 05 Mar 2013 18:50:23 GMT.
<
This was awesome! Also, totally cute little ending there. :D
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