Logs:The 'Experience'
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| RL Date: 14 April, 2015 |
| Who: Alida, Laine |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Egg watching leads to inquiries |
| Where: HRW: Galleries |
| When: Day 13, Month 7, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Sunny, warm. 76 F |
| OOC Notes: Feel free to change your char's icon if the one I grabbed isn't to your taste, Laine. ^^ |
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| Done with all the various things a rider must attend to in any given day, Alida - unlike other times when there's been eggs on the Sands - is found hanging out at the railing overlooking those gaudy, shelled embryos within the Galleries. Arms lightly crossed, folded over one another atop the bannister of stone, her frame leaning a little upon them, the silent bluerider stares out from her seat, only occasionally sweeping her green gaze over the entire, hellishly hot place. Habit. Hair still wet and plastered in places to her head, Laine is freshly scrubbed, although her hands and forearms are still dyed with splotchy, ochre red. She's tousling her fingers through her hair as she saunters into the hatching galleries, so by the time she gets all the way to the bottom of the stairs, that dark, thick, short-cropped mop is sticking out in every direction. There's not many visitors (maybe owing to that sticky heat), so Laine picks her way directly up to the railing, not far from Alida. There's a nod--companionable--and Laine leans one hip against the banister. For now, she's silent, watching the eggs. Often alert, Alida's gaze doesn't fail to take note of Laine's entrance, the candidate gaining a longer look due to that crazed mop of hair. Still, there's eggs to oggle and thoughts to think, and so that often merciless gaze flicks back to where it was before...until greens again take notice of motion from their periphery. One nod invites another - a little more scanty, to be sure - and the rider returns to what she was doing before. There's silence, then, for a long stretch of time, unless Alida breaks it. The candidate, still standing, has folded herself against the rail, fingers laced and chin resting on hands, weight shifted to one foot while the other shoe drums out a steady, thoughtful thud against the stone. Finally, angling her head so she can sweep Alida's form with an up-and-down gaze (seeking out a knot, perhaps?) Laine breaks that stillness. "What's it like? Really like. Not the weird, glossy version they give us at lessons." Two fingers flick out at the eggs, and with the hatching so near, it can't be hard to discern the meaning of her question. She doesn't break it, the woman apparently on good terms with silence. As the teen observes her, there's a faint stiffening of sleek muscles within the bluie's frame - obviously observable only in calves and arms, as they're clad in only board-type shorts and a tank top - and that perhaps odd hint of readiness within the older woman. No knot is seen upon her person, but she does seem to carry some of the 'typical' mien associated with dragonriders...and that characteristic, slightly spicy, sweet musk one gains with long exposure to the beasts. Still, those eyes of hers do flick over once to note that Laine's still here before returning to egg-watching, and it's only the candidate's inquiry that draws her regard back to the other nearby human. "On the Sands?" is muttered in clipped alto. Drawing a breath through her nose, Laine turns so she's facing Alida fully, and braces herself on elbows against the railing. "On the Sands," she agrees. One hand goes to her mouth; she clips at her fingernails with her teeth. Less out of nervousness, likely, than habit. She regards the bluerider quietly, then slides her gaze again over one shoulder. She speaks, apparently to the eggs: "Everyone acts like it's this big thing." Those green eyes shift slightly to note the girl chewing her fingernails, then move on to other aspects of her behavior, even as Alida notes quietly, in her mile-a-minute, hard-accented voice, "It *is* a big thing. Change yer life in ways y'd never think uv'." Once Laine's done observing her, the bluie lets her own unwavering gaze move back to those eggs. "*If* ya Impress." Beat. "Could get injured down there by a dragonet, too." Her posture is relaxed enough, save for a certain tenseness to her lean, muscular shoulders that may very well be attributed to overwork from chores--or something else altogether. And there's a shadowed pockets under Laine's eyes that may attest to lack of sleep. But these things are normal for candidates. "Yeah. The impressing, sure. Life-changing," and that hand with ragged nails waves idly, dismissively, "But the hatching. The day. They don't-- they don't say, really." Her brows flicker together, uncertain. "Not really." But she considers injured with pursed lips. Unconvinced. Tense. Guard's eyes the bluerider has, and they notice many things others might miss. Alida doesn't pick at Laine, however, instead giving the candidate a rarer taste of her helpfulness, in regards to those big-ass eggs down there on steamy Sands. "Say what? How ta dodge clumsy dragonets? How ta look acceptable if ya didn't Impress an' feel like shit?" There's only a sly, knowing little smirk for the girl's unconvinced expression, though. Let her learn the hard way. Something brushes acros Laine's expression: irritation? Vexation? Those taut shoulds roll back, then forward. Her lower lip is caught between teeth and the candidate, as though suddenly self-aware of her nail-biting, hooks her thumbs into the pockets of her shorts. She grunts, and there's that look again of skepticism. So she's quiet again, eyes averted on those eggs but still facing Alida. Eventually: "Figured there was more to it than that. To the-- experience. But." She shrugs, lifts her brows in a what do I know? kind of way. She listens to the candidate without interrupting, Alida unable to help but note Laine's expressions as they alter, her posture, those thumbs in pockets. In a way, she looks almost familiar. "Maybe there is. Ya learn a little more about dragons, respect, I think. Maybe more, maybe less." Shrug. "The experience is all individual...just like the dragons, the people." Green eyes move from eggs to candidate once again, and the bluie adds briskly, "Be ready fer anything." Sound advice. That grunt comes again, but softer, pensive. Laine turns away to return to her original position: propped against that banister, hands clasped, considering those eggs. And so she remains for some time before she straightens and brushes her hands on her tunic. When she goes, it's with a thoughtful: "Thanks. I will." |
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