| Characters | N'sir, R'sner, T'ven |
| Synopsis | T'ven and N'sir take the first steps towards being "real" dragonriders. |
| Out-of-Character Date | June 22, 2018 |
Igen Weyr - South Bowl
The orange hued sandstone layers comprising the bowl walls curve gently, but ever presently in your view. Fine sand shifts underfoot, a slightly paler version of what is found upon the walls. It gives way along the eastern edge to a section of contrasting green grass where a series of cleverly engineered pipes provide water to the fenced off area of the feeding grounds, and keeps the shimmer of the shallow lake beyond from dissapearing during the dryest periods of the turn. A distinctly squared entrance farther south is the tunnel leading out to the lands beyond. Traders and tithes arrive here at regular intervals and it is not uncommon for part of the bowl to be set up with a series of tents and wagons as wares are displayed and sold. To the west, the bowl wall has been eroded by the desert winds into strange shapes. At their base are found the weyrling barracks and training fields.
Afternoon in Igen, winter or not, is still unreasonably hot. Or at least, that is R'sner's opinion of it. Even having surrendered his beloved leathers for more climate-appropriate attire (though he's still got on leather pants beneath those robes, because there are some lines he just won't cross without extenuating circumstances or sufficient bribery) he's still looking rather miserable at that picnic table. He's pulled the entire thing closer to the wall, hiding himself in the shade as best he can while still affording himself a view of what has become the weyrling's training field. He was /probably/ doing paperwork until his new little pet decided he was hungry. So, work set aside, he is now in the process of dissecting a meatroll and offering up choice morsels to the little bronze one bite at a time. The bread-and-veggie bits get eaten by the weyrlingmaster; the delicious shredded meaty-bits get offered to Saafir, who is happily gobbling them down. Toith, watching it all from her place in the sun, seems to find the whole thing entirely too amusing.
Elianneth is the first of the pair out of the barracks, her hide gleaming with fresh oil, her happy bugling accompanied with a dramatic flair of wing as she bounds directly toward Toith. Of course, Rashid and Minx are swirling around her, the bronze and green firelizards apparently hired on as 'backup dancers'. N'sir? He emerges a few moments later, his hair in disarray, oil streaking one cheek as he casts an exhasperated look after Elianneth. "Oi. A little patience would not hurt you, Diva." Scrubbing a hand over his face, he takes a moment to get his bearings, one brow twitching as he notes the moved picnic table and steps over to slip in next to R'sner. "Hi," is whispered as he leans in to brush a kiss to the corner of the Weyrlingmaster's lips. "And hello, Saafir," is added in equally warm tones.
Toith's attention is easily turned from bronze 'lizard to green weyrling, a throaty whuffle-chuff-snort issued in greeting as Elianneth bounds her way. The back-up dancers are given a critical eye but ultimately dismissed; they're way too small to wrestle with. And while R'sner's focus seems to be on ensuring that Saafir's mouth is full at all times (if only to stave off the shrill, piteous cry of hunger that otherwise issues forth from that tiny bronze throat), there is a glance spared for N'sir at his exit. It is a look that lingers, taking in that somewhat disheveled appearance, and finding it appealing enough to inspire a faint smile to curl at the corners of his mouth. "Hello," comes a murmured return, and while that bronze is demanding his attention with sharp, little teeth gnawing at his fingertips, Res still spares a moment to steal a proper kiss before turning to address the issue. "He's insatiable," decides the weyrlingmaster, sighing irritably as he pulls another bit of meat from his decimated roll. "Woke me up at all hours of the night."
N'sir purrs at the kiss, the sound transformed into a throaty laugh as he rests his elbows on the table and grins at little bronze firelizard. "You can imagine that I am not terribly sympathetic," he notes with a pointed look toward Elianneth. "They grow out of it relatively quickly, though." Reaching up, he starts to comb his fingers through his hair and winces as they catch on the tangle of curls. "You know? I'm fine with Elia being vain and /needing/ to look her best. I just wish," he adds as he very carefully starts picking at the tangles. "She'd be patient enough to let me get groomed, as well." Elianneth? Not even a little bit sorry, that much is clear when she hunkers down, pushing her rump in the air as she hop-hop-hops in pounce position toward Toith. « I want to wrestle, » she announces with a gleeful trumpet.
Oh Elianneth wants to Wrestle? Aloath sneakily will feed that need! The green sneaks quietly from around a corner but with a swagger to her walk right before she jumps on her clutch sister « HAHA! » comes her mellow mind voice. She has attached lightly, not really using her claws to Eli's rump trying to roll the other green on to her side. It takes T'ven a few moments before he two rounds the bend clearly wet from just giving the baby dragon a bath and such. He sighs as he sees all his hard work about to go up in dust.
"Mm." It's all the acknowledgement R'sner is going to offer for the clear observation that demanding baby firelizards have nothing on demanding baby dragons. Even if he's not yet willing to give up that grumpy expression. But the bronze is slowing down in his voracious eating, his creels not quite as demanding as they had been. It at least allows R'sner to favor his companion with more of his attention. "You're within your rights to put your foot down. To tell her to wait," declares the weyrlingmaster. "Other than the oil on your cheek, you don't look that bad," he decides, sparing a second glance for N'sir before his attention is caught by the pounce-preparing Elianneth. Toith? Always up for wrestling! But before she can engage, there's a sneak attack in the form of Aloath! « Ha ha! Get her! »
Elianneth exhales a startled creel, the sound transforming into a delighted croon as she flops on her side beneath Aloath's assault. Unwilling to be outdone, however, her tail sweeps over the ground thunking against Aloath's side as she propels herself back to her feet with a buffet of wing against the ground. Yes, it's a move she adapted from playing with Toith in the water. And just like that, the flashy little green is doing her damdest to barrel her sister over with a delighted peel of draconic laughter. N'sir, however, lets his hands fall back to the picnic table, both brows arching slowly as the freshly oiled Elianneth is promptly and irrevocably rendered bath bound. "…. Hours," he groans. "I spent hours oiling her hide… Wait. Oil on my face?" Grimacing, he immediately sets to scrubbing at his face with his hands, a great deal of annoyed huffing accompanying the gesture. "Tell her to wait.. Mmhmm.." Clearly it's just not that easy. He does, however, raise a hand in greeting as T'ven rounds the corner.
T'ven waves back to N'sir and salutes R'sner, with the rest of his gear he is carrying are his finally finished straps. Because N'sir totally had to help him or the poor artist would have no fingers left. Moving to the table to set his stuff down he greets the two men "Afternoon." Aloath on the other hand waits for her flashy sister to start that barreling charge, and instead of actually taking it head on she tries to uses that weird shimmy swagger of hers to side step and ties to pounce on Eli's tail end again. She croons happily at Toith's encouragement even if she isn't really an adept at wrestling yet.
"Just a little. On your cheek. It's kind of cute," decides R'sner. It's the response to his suggestion of making her /wait/ that has his expression growing firm. "You will have to do it, eventually," he notes, turning back to offer Saafir a final bite of food before he's exhausted that meatroll completely; nothing but bits of bread and stray vegetables left for consumption. "If not for personal hygiene, then for her safety." But it's not an issue he's going to push at this time. A conciliatory squeeze of his arm, and a quick kiss to the un-oily cheek, comes before he's drawing away at the arrival of T'ven. A curt nod of his head in acknowledgement comes for his salute, though R'sner's gaze goes immediately to the length of leather carried by the other weyrling. "Have you finished, then?" he asks, ignoring the antics of the weyrling dragons. Toith is all about that wrestling, but she's got a clear favorite (even if she's technically not supposed to have favorites!) in Elianneth.
There is a moment of confusion for Elianneth when Aloath is not where she expected her to be. It's her tail being pounced that has her twisting around with an entirely to energetic bugle to counter pounce Aloath. Course, there are no talons involved for Elia, her 'attacks' far more of the duck head, push and roll variety. Gives up any hope for his hair— he's just gonna have crazy curls for the time being— and glances at T'ven's straps. "They look good, you did great," he assures. "I know," is sighed in response to R'sner. "I do. But I mean, so what if my hair is mess, you know? She's happy as can be." Falling silent, he works at getting the oil off his face while R'sner inspects T'ven's straps. Elianneth, though? She has a cheering section and mad dance moves and is bounding and dancing around Elianneth in clear delight. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee!
Aloath has her target, and while she can get pushed around she still has that swagger to Eli's dancing she flares her wings quickly as a distraction before darting again towards the other dragons hind quarters to knock her down. If dragons could laugh there would be the sounds of happy shrieking going on. T'ven hands over said straps to R'sner "Finished them this morning." Because he did stay up all night and do it. He chuckles at N'sir's hair comment saying "If you want I can brush it for you while your eating breakfast." Because they do each other hair all the time, sorry R'sner you just work to much.
R'sner will let it go for now, though there's a lingering, look focused on N'sir that says the subject isn't quite closed. It is T'ven and his straps that eventually draw his gaze away, the weyrlingmaster's attention turned to a more pressing matter as leather is offered over. He's quick to scoop up little Saafir and deposit him safely to his shoulder, the little bronze making a nest of loose fabric while Res busies himself with inspecting T'ven's straps. A tightening of his jaw, a clearing of his throat but, other than a quick glance between T'ven and N'sir, R'sner is just going to put his attention very /firmly/ on the straps in hand.
Elianneth while scrappy is not much of a fighter. Really, she just loves rough housing. That being the case, she is easily barreled over, rolling on the sandy ground as easily as she does in the water. Rather then bound right up she stretches out her neck, crooning at Toith before whipping her head around to do the same to Aloath. "After I have time to wash it," N'sir agrees with an easy nod. "Trying to brush this out now would be… painful." Slanting a glance at R'sner, he has the good sense to look sheepish at the look turned on him, his lips twitching a faint smile. "I know I'm spoiling her." He knows. Oh, he knows. It's the last though, that has his smile softening, dark eyes crinkling at the corners.
T'ven nods to N'sir about the hair before looking back towards the dragons, because Aloath is whining « You Dandy? » is her concerned voice seeping into the minds of the other dragons. T'ven glances to N'sir who isn't looking upset so not really giving it to worry at this point.
A crane of her neck, and Toith puts her face down to wuffle throatily at Elianneth, faceted eyes whirling in excitement. She's clearly not concerned, offering a chuff of congratulations to Aloath for her apparent 'win'. Meanwhile at the picnic bench, R'sner is doing a masterful job of pretending not to be interested in the back and forth concerning N'sir's hair, eyes and hands put to the task of inspecting every single millimeter of those straps. With the leather laid out across the table, the weyrlingmaster rises to lean over it, running critical fingers across the seams and joints and buckles. A quiet, "Hm," for a spot that gets a little bit more attention, and then a "Looks good. If Aloath is of the mind to model, will you please put them on her?" And to N'sir, there is a quick "Do you have yours ready?"
« I am perfect, » Elianneth assures with another low croon. In the wake of the husky sound, she slinks to her feet, flopping down next to Toith for a cuddle. «Tired,» she admits while inviting Aloath to cuddle with her with a little wiggle. "She's fine," N'sir laughs. In the wake of the laugh, he gives a subtle shift of the bench, just enough that his thigh is pressed lightly against R'sner's beneath the table. When R'sner rises, he wrinkles his nose, exhaling his own mild chuff. "I do," he answers as he presses his hands against the table and pushes to his feet. "I'll go get them." Course, he tilts his head, slanting a R'sner a lingering look before turning to slip into the barracks. Fortunately, he's not gone very long, his own straps draped over his shoulder as he returns to the table and hands them over.
Aloath croons happily, as she goes in for cuddles but as soon as she get settled comes from T'ven "Come on dear, time to get to work" She gives a huff, and a very lazy reply of « But I just got the good seat man.» This prompts T'ven to look over at her and tries that speaking in the mind thing he has been learning » Come on, you just won your round. Time to show them that we got what it takes to pass «. Aloath gives a little huff, and just looks at her bonded as they are locked in a war of the wills.
Toith shifts only enough to comfortable accommodate Elianneth's growing form against her side, accepting of the contact if just because it is /Elianneth/.A stretch of her neck, of her tail, of her wings, and the older green is well and truly settled; a sigh exhaled as she sort of flops down in place. R'sner's grown accustomed to it, as well. At least, enough that he does not appear concerned or confused by his dragons apparent acceptance of snuggling. Instead, he's rather firmly rooted in his role as weyrlingmaster right now, offering T'ven back his set of straps as the weyrling engages in a private battle of wills. "If she does not want to cooperate, that is fine. We can save first rides for another day," comes almost dismissively, unconcerned. N'sir's straps are waved off, R'sner's head tipping towards Elianneth as he decides, "I already know they're well made. I'd rather see them on her," but still, the qualification comes with a quick, "If she's willing to cooperate."
"Eli," N'sir calls. "Show time." The moment the words are out of his lips, Elianneth is pushing up from her sprawling, her snout giving Toith and Aloath a light nuzzle before she sashays over to N'sir. She's ready and eager to go on stage, clearly. «Next time white,» she notes as she turns her head to whuffle into N'sir's face. "Of course," he murmurs as he steps in close enough to smooth a hand over her snout. "And pink and jewelry and I know." As he speaks, he's carefully slinging the straps over her shoulders, his lips pressing as he checks and rechecks the fit before buckling them securely in place. In costume, Elianneth preens, her head twisting this and way that to get a better look at the straps on. «Maybe feathers next time?» "No feathers," N'sir laughs.
Aloath still watches before there is a shrug and she moves to get up, giving Toith a friendly shoulder bump in the process « Alright, but no feathers ok.. » Because she doesn't go for that frilly stuff at all. Nope Aloath is quite happily not very girly, she walks over to stand near T'ven as he works to get the straps on. "Thank you dearest heart." comes the loving tone from the artist as he he works adding "You know the better we get the quicker we get to fly. I know you are waiting for that.."
And just like that, Toith is abandoned. Woe is she. But really, she's not terribly upset about it, an encouraging « knock 'em dead, » following both Elianneth and Aloath as they head over to be outfitted as proper dragons. R'sner, on the other hand, is looking exceptionally stoic in this moment. Arms crossed comfortably over his chest and a stereotypical frown in place, his gaze alternates between watching N'sir with Eli, and T'ven with Aloath. When he's judged them to be ready, he closes the distance with long, purposeful steps. To Elianneth first, and while he's still sporting that 'weyrlingmaster' expression, there's a gentle hand that smooths down the green's neck before he's slipping fingers beneath the straps to test their fit. Satisfied, there's a murmured, "Good," before he's promptly abandoning them for Aloath and T'ven. The same process comes, only there's a brief, "Does she mind if I touch her?" asked before he's putting his hands on the other green. Once more, the straps are tested with a slip of his hand and an assessment of their fit. But they pass as well, a similar, "well done," offered before he's stepping back. "If you are both of the mind, and your dragons are amiable to such a thing, you may go ahead and climb on." So casually, as if it wasn't the first time they'll be climbing up and seated on their lifemates. But /Toith/ understands the significance, a happy sound echoing from her throat as her eyes whirl faster.
Aloath projects to Toith « I like yours he has a nice rear. »
Aloath senses that Toith does not argue this assessment, though she'll wonder « What'cha lookin' a' his butt for? »
Elianneth turns her head, crooning huskily at R'sner before putting on her 'performance face' and standing very still. When the praise comes, another husky croon is exhaled, the sound deepening as N'sir's hand smooths over her neck. It's the oh so casual announcement, however, that has N'sir casting a startled look at R'sner before he abruptly smiles. "Yeah?" And just as quickly, he's lost in conversation with Elianeth. Clearly, the flashy green is excited at the thought, a fact made clear when N'sir takes a few extra moments to calm her down before deftly ascending the straps. He's had a lot of practice given how many times he's traveled in the past turn and a half. Once he's settled, he leans forward, both hands smoothing over Elianneth's neck in an adoring caress. "You're perfect," he assures in husky tones.
Toith senses that Aloath gives a mental shrug « it is there, when he walked by, he isn't like mine who is short enough I can look at his face with out moving my head. »
T'ven nods to the AWLM about touching "She doesn't mind at all." After R'sner declares they are fit to try mounting he nods with his own nervous grin. Aloath isn't worried at all in fact she seems if anything abit bored but still time to pay attention so she is stock still as it takes T'ven more than once to get situated on the dragon. Once he is there though the green takes a different view of things crooning at her clutch sister happily.
Aloath senses that Toith cannot squint in her mind, but the feeling is there nonetheless. « What'cha mean? Yer half m'size! Yer huge! » Compared to the little humans, at least.
R'sner slants a glance toward N'sir at that 'yeah', though his faint, half-smirk will have to serve as confirmation. Yes. Really. And while the pair of weyrlings make their ascents, Res will just head for Toith. A calloused hand glides slowly across her foreleg and, while he gets a wuffle in his hair for the effort, no further affection is forthcoming. A turn, and he's leaning against her foreleg, arms once more crossed over his chest and critical gaze turned toward the weyrlings. There's no inquiry as to how they feel, because Res is pretty sure he knows the answer to that. Instead, there is just an assessment of first T'ven, and then N'sir, where his gaze lingers a bit longer, before he's calling across the distance to both of them with an encouraging, "Go ahead and walk around. Get used to being up there. Let them get used to carrying you around… this will become part of your exercises after today."
Preening, Elianneth exhales a husky croon in answer to Aloath, her tail giving a slow sweep over the ground. She's pleased, clearly, and it shows in the light flair of translucent butterfly wings. At the call to move, she immediately gets excited, N'sir's gentle chiding serving to calm her down enough that her sashaying walk is only a little on the quick side. "Slow until you get used to it, Princess," he urges. Still, there is a grin tracing over his lips, the laughter in his eyes an easily spied thing. It's different then what he's used to, both because of her gait and the lack of a rider sitting securely behind him. For her part, Elianneth does her best to keep herself calm. Even so, ever few steps she strikes a pose and flairs her wings.
Aloath isn't one for fast moments, she has her slow lazy pace at least here on the ground, as she tries not to swagger to much keeping T'ven aloft on her back. She does how ever seem to try to look at her self with him atop her, which gets a chuckle from the man before T'ven says "Eyes on the road, you don't want to face plant on your first time and look like a fool." That prompts the green to come back with « Don't endanger the Doo »
Whatever R'sner might think of it, the opinion is kept between him and Toith (and, in case anyone was wondering, Toith's kept that little rear-end comment to herself. You're welcome, T'ven). The assistant weyrlingmaster is a silent statue against his dragon, gaze sweeping back and forth between the pair of weyrling greens. His expression is carefully composed, even if there's a hint of a smile threatening now and again at Elianneth's obvious enthusiasm. Slow and steady is definitely the way to run this race, and while Toith might enjoy a bit of a crash-and-burn, R'sner thoroughly approves of Aloath's lazy pace.
Elianneth is not the sort of girl to go slow. She's the sort of girl to charge ahead with glory and style. Still, she's trying to keep a hold of her enthusiasm, at least marginally. Her pace, however, is significantly quicker, that sashaying glide accompanied with a pointed swish snap of her hips and an accompanying flick of tail. For his part, N'sir is whispering words of encouragement, dark eyes warm as he keeps one hand on Elianneth's neck in a soothing gesture. "You're going to tire if you don't slow down, Princess," he whispers in husky tones.
Aloath may or may not be picking up bad habits from his clutch siblings, because when Eli is doing her sashay she is following it up with her own unique swagger as if they are in a dancing conga line of dragons. T'ven shakes his head but is currently trying to stay on the dragon proper not really having much experience riding, he is going to be sore later, "Just keep that pace, and maybe a little bit less on the dancing ok dearest heart?"
Toith projects to Aloath and Elianneth « Res says take it easy 'fore ya take a tumble » which might not be /exactly/ what he said but, meh. « S'always t'morrow. »
As for the weyrlingmaster on the sidelines? R'sner's just chillin'. Relaxing as much as he's apt to relax given the situation and the location, but at least it's a comfortable lean rather than a stiff, frozen posture. There's even a lift of his hand to scratch idly at the little bronze as Saafir shifts positions in his sleep. But he's still watching the weyrlings, relegated to casual observer. Toith, as well, is keeping a keen eye on things, and seems to find the dancing of /both/ dragons somewhat amusing.
(lesson ends here as T'ven had to leave. Scene continues in a separate log)
