Logs:Public Relations
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| RL Date: 2 October, 2013 |
| Who: K'zin, N'rov |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: N'rov is promoting good PR in the galleries. But there's no love from K'zin. |
| Where: Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 16, Month 12, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: It is a rare day of cloudless sunshine, though the temperatures are markedly colder. |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, F'manis/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions |
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| Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr Ringing the southwestern side of the hatching sands are ample tiers of carved stone benches, the lowest of which is some six feet off the ground -- just high enough to separate wayward hatchlings from unwary viewers, and vice versa. A metal railing on the outside helps prevent anyone from falling off; it also extends up the stairs that lead the way higher into the galleries. While most of the area is open seating, ropes section off some of the closer tiers when dignitaries are expected; those areas even feature cushions in the Weyr's blue and black. The higher one climbs, the more apparent the immense scale of the entire cavern becomes. The dragon-sized entrance on the ground is dwarfed by the expansive golden sands that glitter in the light. Everything on them is easily visible from the galleries, whether that's a clutch of eggs and a broody queen, or simply its emptiness and the handful of darker tunnels that lead to more private areas than the bowl. Wherever one sits or looks, however, one thing is constant: the overwhelming, suffocating heat.
In clutches past (well, clutch), K'zin was an egg-gawker. But the last clutch wasn't sired by an interloper. Maybe this is why the bronzerider's visits have been limited to business. Today, it's a little business with pleasure, because there's an exceptionally pretty brunette preceding him into the galleries, "I'm so sure I'd've gotten lost, if it weren't for you taking pity on me, bronzerider K'zin," The teen is saying with (in)appropriate bats of her lashes. Whether she's playing him or he her, it's hard to say, because the smile he offers her back is charming. "Of course, my pleasure." Of course, once they're up the steps, she's spotted her friends and with a touch to his hand and a few more equally sickeningly sweet words she's flouncing off to join them, only to have them all giggling and looking back at K'zin, who glances toward the eggs and then catches sight of N'rov and his admirers. His lips press together in a restrained smile. There's a choice here, but he's not in a rush to make it. So there's the cluster of teenaged girls, and then there's the cluster of aunties and otherwise; N'rov seems destined to linger with the latter interminably, and it indeed takes some time before he makes his excuses: something apologetic about an oiling, which does nothing to drive them away but at least lets him safely abscond towards the galleries' lowermost rail with his cake. And just like that, K'zin's choice is gone. N'rov's rescued himself. Although, judging from the way K'zin only looks disappointed at how successfully the Fortian's able to extricate himself, he was planning to choose to help a bronzebrother out. Gaggle of teens. Gaggle of not-teens. And N'rov. The galleries? Not an inviting place, so far as K'zin's concerned. Without even so much as a jealous look for N'rov's cake, K'zin's starting to head back the way he came. That's what he gets for being slow, N'rov neither a damsel nor in distress. The Fortian does give him the sort of passing nod one might give to a stranger until, a few steps beyond, he snaps his fingers and half-turns back. "Have fun in the Weyrleader's wing," he mentions over his shoulder, offhanded as his fleeting smile. K'zin's lips pull to a smirk and he pauses long enough to turn to look back toward the Fortian, "While you're wasting your time here in the galleries, you might try getting more reliable gossip. I'm enjoying F'manis' wing, as always." Well, that's probably a lie, but it sounds nice. More zingy than 'I've never liked Tiaga but K'del's my faux-pa and it gets complicated from there'. "At least then you won't sound like an idiot on top of annoying and pretty." He effects a charming smile for N'rov before turning back to continue his path. "Are you?" N'rov sounds more bemused, not quite as though that might be a character defect on K'zin's part. "Then I'm very happy for you. 'Not like an idiot,' though. Don't know whether that would count as living up or down to expectations," but the dilemma will take him down the aisle, murmuring something about far too much work, towards where he can eat his cake in peace. After that, dragon-oiling. And if he has to do the latter without his shirt, well, it's hot down on those sands. |
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