[Log] Dead horses.
Who: H'kon and R'en.
What: R'en does some questioning, finds H'kon. He gets his hopes up.
Where: Dragon baths, HRW.
When: Schefemmflechsem.
Hot Springs
This large natural cavern is heated by the same mechanism that warms the hatching sands. Fed by a spring, the waters that fill the center bowl are warm enough to steam and deep enough that a bronze might almost float after following the gentle slope down into the pool. There is room enough there for several dragons, provided they mind their wings.
To the right of the entrance tunnel, a second pool has been hollowed out of the rock. It's much smaller than the first and is intended for use by the human residents of the Weyr. Alcoves over the pool hold extra towels and pouches of 'sand.
Glowbaskets have been raised on poles around the lip of the larger of the two pools. They end three-quarters of the way into the cavern, leaving the rest in perpetual shadow. The rear of the cavern is gloomy, its wall broken by a number of small crevasses.
Contents:
Sehkrath(#645Qh)
H'kon
Arekoth
Obvious Exits:
Bowl (B)
Arekoth immediately increases his speed and the ferocity of his strokes in the water when the young bronze shows up; a display of his strength. A fitting rumble, loud and deep, goes to the young dragon as well. H'kon frowns as soon as his lifemate has changed his pacing, and it's the same unhappy expression that is turend on R'en when the older man calls his name. The brownrider moves right up to the edge of the pool, his chin tilting upward as he regards the other. "Weyrling."
'Weyrling'. R'en rolls his eyes for the title. "Okay, so it's gonna be like that." Coming to a stop, he puts a hand to the back of his neck to rub the muscle there and asks a tired, "You been lookin' for your girl or what?" That should do something to the formalities, maybe? Sehkrath returns the rumble with something like it, a noise all his own that's ugly and uneven, unpracticed for all the times he's used it.
"It must be 'like that'; you are a weyrling, I am a wingrider. By all rights, you should salute me as well." H'kon now stands straight in the water, his upper chest in the air, his stomach still submerged. Arekoth has come to a stop, and is watching that bronzerider. H'kon hesitates in answering that second question, looking expectant, still, to the former guard. Awaiting that salute.
He'll wait a long time. "Uh." Maybe the once-over R'en gives H'kon isn't necessary, but he does it anyway. "Why? 'Side from rules sayin' I have to. 'Sides you blindly followin' those rules." Just to look extra obstinate, he folds his arms.
"Respect for rank and rules is what makes the Weyr run," H'kon replies flatly. Eyes close briefly, and behind him, Arekoth resumes the slow paddling, only this time he heads in the opposite direction. "It will become important in Threadfall, and it is important for the general peace and order of the place. You should understand the importance of rank."
"Oh I do. Got plenty o'respect for most people 'less they piss me off. Don't see how a salute's gonna help me during a Fall. Don't see how it's gonna help now." R'en's mouth becomes a line of disappointment. "Thought maybe you'n me could talk like men with similar problems. You don't want that I'll take what I know'n go."
H'kon manages not to roll his eyes, though his tone dips toward the exasperated. "The salute is symbolic of your acknowledgement of relative rank, and its implications. Respecting rank when not in an emergency makes it easier to do so in times where rationality is not always present." Talk of similar problems bring him away from the didactic. An eyebrow twitches, and in the background, Arekoth stops and looks once more toward the bronzerider. H'kon's teeth are not clenched together, though his jaw doesn't move quite as much as he replies, "Perhaps then that would be best." A glance over his shoulder has the brown back to his laps.
"You really think so?" R'en makes a thoughtful bump in his cheek with his tongue. "Huh." Then, after taking a slow, panning glance around the cavern he comes to find Sehkrath and tilts his head like he didn't know he was there. "Would y'look at that. I think he might be bronze." A shit-eating grin spreads his mouth wide and he turns it on H'kon. "That counts for somethin' round here, don't it? Somethin' important." He laughs, short and sharp, and shrugs a shoulder. "Fucked if I know, 'm not really familiar with Weyrs. But hey, maybe after I'm graduated I'll learn more." Then, "Hey, watch this." The salute happens, too embellished, and he grins again. "Y'know, I feel better already. Like I'm really in tune with rank."
H'kon is fast growing tired of this little game. It shows clearly on the man's face. "You are a weyrling until your graduation, and during that time, your dragon's colour counts for very little in regards to me." That salute drows an outright scowl, and the final quip threatens to remove any composure the brownrider is keeping up. H'kon turns away from the other man, and looks to Arekoth. The laps are stopped, and the next round - careful movement of the left leg - begins.
If anything, R'en only looks more amused. "Then I reckon we'll have another chance t'talk when it does count. Until then, don't matter what I think o'you or you think o'me. D'/you/ know where Vanya is?" Sehkrath ducks his head and croaks an apology for His. He takes so much looking after.
H'kon doesn't wince at the name. He does close his eyes. The brownrider's chest rises with an intake of breath, falls as it's let out. Arekoth has stopped his exercising. Again. And looks from that young bronze to the older rider. For all the attention his dragon is showing, when H'kon does open his eyes again, he acts as though no one is present.
Which R'en will take as 'no'. "Didn't think so. 'Cause they won't tell you'n you won't ask further. Wouldn't be proper, would it." His hands are on his hips; he sighs, looks away. "She went t'Five Mines. Her'n my sister."
Sehkrath> To Arekoth: Sehkrath is young and still soft when talking to older dragons, lacking much of the confidence to be, well, confident. << Please do not stop your exercising on our account. >>
H'kon continues in not acknowledging the weyrling. A pointed look to Arekoth, though it's only after some sort of mental battle that the brown is rotating that limb of his once more.
Sehkrath> Arekoth is not lacking in confidence, though his thoughts are scattered, weaving together to bring about ideas more than words. << I don't stop for you. >> There's an obvious interest in the information being put forth by the young bronze's rider.
"Don't care?" With his head tilted, R'en watches H'kon pretend like he doesn't exist and shrugs. "Suit yourself. I'll be goin' t'do somethin' about it, you just stay here'n keep bein' whatever it is you're bein'. Sehkrath'll let me know if he hears anything from your end." On that note he turns to, very simply, leave. Sehkrath dips his head goodbye and, serpenty, turns on his tail to pad after His.
Following orders is one thing. Hearing someone about to do something stupid is another. "And what do you intend to do for it? You cannot go there." H'kon is at least looking after R'en, out of the corner of his eye.
Though he'll never see it, H'kon earns a curling, slow smirk that's gone just before R'en turns around to answer. "I dunno. I thought I'd, ah, /go there/." His arms have folded again. He looks nonchalant. "You're right though. Can't. Not without transportation. Not without bein' able t'trust someone enough not t'tell. Those're important things." Behind him Sehkrath waits, poised.
H'kon narrows his eyes at this upstart of a bronzerider, and shakes his head. "You do not need transportation because there is no need to go after them. I am certain that they are well, and going there would be... disloyal to the Weyr. If they are where you say, it may make things worse. Those people cannot be trusted to be rational, especially when faced with an irrational gesture." And scowl.
"You're absolutely right." R'en stays where he is, puts his eyes up on the ceiling. "They're irrational people over there. Dangerous, too. Crazy. Unpredictable. Determined." There's a series of slow, thoughtful nods to follow this. "Why should I be worried about any one of ours bein' over there. 'Specially my sister." In a softer voice he deadpans, "I have so much t'learn."
"Both your sister and my- both Tavaly and Vanya are safe, I have been assured of this. What makes you think, weyrling," and that title is certainly stressed, "that rash decisions will make them safer? There is no need to go there now. If there were, someone would be sent." H'kon speaks this with perfect confidence, of course. Arekoth still isn't doing his exercises.
"So you think just 'cause someone tells you somethin' it's true? You just take everything at face value like that? No wonder." Cryptic remarks aside, R'en continues. "You're blind'n dumb'n of no use t'me if all you're gonna do is /nod/. If you care anything about this girl, you'll come t'your senses'n realize she's over there," he points in a random direction, meant to represent where Five Mines lies, "with a bunch o'criminals'n if somethin' did happen t'her, who d'you think's gonna tell you?"
And if that /is/ where she has gone, then it is by the /orders/ of the /Weyrleaders/." H'kon snorts now, standing straighter again in the water, composing himself quickly enough. "I do not see how you hope to make their situation better by going there yourself. I trust what my Weyrleaders tell me. I salute those who outrank me. If there is trouble, yes, I believe something will be done. By people who understand what is happening, not by a weyrling who does not understand his place and does not know what he proposes to do."
"Useless," is R'en's last comment, practically on the heels of H'kon's speech. "Self-righteous'n useless. I know my place. Lookin' at you now, I've never been more glad of it." Now he's using real speed when he turns away to leave, ducking under Sehkrath's lifted foreleg and swinging on past it.
"Then you do not know what you would do once there," H'kon calls after him harshly, almost a shout. And the brownrider himself has turned himself around, with a look to the dragon that has him once again resuming those exercises. A few moments, and the man is running wet fingers through his hair in time with Arekoth's leg rotations.
What: R'en does some questioning, finds H'kon. He gets his hopes up.
Where: Dragon baths, HRW.
When: Schefemmflechsem.
Hot Springs
This large natural cavern is heated by the same mechanism that warms the hatching sands. Fed by a spring, the waters that fill the center bowl are warm enough to steam and deep enough that a bronze might almost float after following the gentle slope down into the pool. There is room enough there for several dragons, provided they mind their wings.
To the right of the entrance tunnel, a second pool has been hollowed out of the rock. It's much smaller than the first and is intended for use by the human residents of the Weyr. Alcoves over the pool hold extra towels and pouches of 'sand.
Glowbaskets have been raised on poles around the lip of the larger of the two pools. They end three-quarters of the way into the cavern, leaving the rest in perpetual shadow. The rear of the cavern is gloomy, its wall broken by a number of small crevasses.
Contents:
Sehkrath(#645Qh)
H'kon
Arekoth
Obvious Exits:
Bowl (B)
Arekoth immediately increases his speed and the ferocity of his strokes in the water when the young bronze shows up; a display of his strength. A fitting rumble, loud and deep, goes to the young dragon as well. H'kon frowns as soon as his lifemate has changed his pacing, and it's the same unhappy expression that is turend on R'en when the older man calls his name. The brownrider moves right up to the edge of the pool, his chin tilting upward as he regards the other. "Weyrling."
'Weyrling'. R'en rolls his eyes for the title. "Okay, so it's gonna be like that." Coming to a stop, he puts a hand to the back of his neck to rub the muscle there and asks a tired, "You been lookin' for your girl or what?" That should do something to the formalities, maybe? Sehkrath returns the rumble with something like it, a noise all his own that's ugly and uneven, unpracticed for all the times he's used it.
"It must be 'like that'; you are a weyrling, I am a wingrider. By all rights, you should salute me as well." H'kon now stands straight in the water, his upper chest in the air, his stomach still submerged. Arekoth has come to a stop, and is watching that bronzerider. H'kon hesitates in answering that second question, looking expectant, still, to the former guard. Awaiting that salute.
He'll wait a long time. "Uh." Maybe the once-over R'en gives H'kon isn't necessary, but he does it anyway. "Why? 'Side from rules sayin' I have to. 'Sides you blindly followin' those rules." Just to look extra obstinate, he folds his arms.
"Respect for rank and rules is what makes the Weyr run," H'kon replies flatly. Eyes close briefly, and behind him, Arekoth resumes the slow paddling, only this time he heads in the opposite direction. "It will become important in Threadfall, and it is important for the general peace and order of the place. You should understand the importance of rank."
"Oh I do. Got plenty o'respect for most people 'less they piss me off. Don't see how a salute's gonna help me during a Fall. Don't see how it's gonna help now." R'en's mouth becomes a line of disappointment. "Thought maybe you'n me could talk like men with similar problems. You don't want that I'll take what I know'n go."
H'kon manages not to roll his eyes, though his tone dips toward the exasperated. "The salute is symbolic of your acknowledgement of relative rank, and its implications. Respecting rank when not in an emergency makes it easier to do so in times where rationality is not always present." Talk of similar problems bring him away from the didactic. An eyebrow twitches, and in the background, Arekoth stops and looks once more toward the bronzerider. H'kon's teeth are not clenched together, though his jaw doesn't move quite as much as he replies, "Perhaps then that would be best." A glance over his shoulder has the brown back to his laps.
"You really think so?" R'en makes a thoughtful bump in his cheek with his tongue. "Huh." Then, after taking a slow, panning glance around the cavern he comes to find Sehkrath and tilts his head like he didn't know he was there. "Would y'look at that. I think he might be bronze." A shit-eating grin spreads his mouth wide and he turns it on H'kon. "That counts for somethin' round here, don't it? Somethin' important." He laughs, short and sharp, and shrugs a shoulder. "Fucked if I know, 'm not really familiar with Weyrs. But hey, maybe after I'm graduated I'll learn more." Then, "Hey, watch this." The salute happens, too embellished, and he grins again. "Y'know, I feel better already. Like I'm really in tune with rank."
H'kon is fast growing tired of this little game. It shows clearly on the man's face. "You are a weyrling until your graduation, and during that time, your dragon's colour counts for very little in regards to me." That salute drows an outright scowl, and the final quip threatens to remove any composure the brownrider is keeping up. H'kon turns away from the other man, and looks to Arekoth. The laps are stopped, and the next round - careful movement of the left leg - begins.
If anything, R'en only looks more amused. "Then I reckon we'll have another chance t'talk when it does count. Until then, don't matter what I think o'you or you think o'me. D'/you/ know where Vanya is?" Sehkrath ducks his head and croaks an apology for His. He takes so much looking after.
H'kon doesn't wince at the name. He does close his eyes. The brownrider's chest rises with an intake of breath, falls as it's let out. Arekoth has stopped his exercising. Again. And looks from that young bronze to the older rider. For all the attention his dragon is showing, when H'kon does open his eyes again, he acts as though no one is present.
Which R'en will take as 'no'. "Didn't think so. 'Cause they won't tell you'n you won't ask further. Wouldn't be proper, would it." His hands are on his hips; he sighs, looks away. "She went t'Five Mines. Her'n my sister."
Sehkrath> To Arekoth: Sehkrath is young and still soft when talking to older dragons, lacking much of the confidence to be, well, confident. << Please do not stop your exercising on our account. >>
H'kon continues in not acknowledging the weyrling. A pointed look to Arekoth, though it's only after some sort of mental battle that the brown is rotating that limb of his once more.
Sehkrath> Arekoth is not lacking in confidence, though his thoughts are scattered, weaving together to bring about ideas more than words. << I don't stop for you. >> There's an obvious interest in the information being put forth by the young bronze's rider.
"Don't care?" With his head tilted, R'en watches H'kon pretend like he doesn't exist and shrugs. "Suit yourself. I'll be goin' t'do somethin' about it, you just stay here'n keep bein' whatever it is you're bein'. Sehkrath'll let me know if he hears anything from your end." On that note he turns to, very simply, leave. Sehkrath dips his head goodbye and, serpenty, turns on his tail to pad after His.
Following orders is one thing. Hearing someone about to do something stupid is another. "And what do you intend to do for it? You cannot go there." H'kon is at least looking after R'en, out of the corner of his eye.
Though he'll never see it, H'kon earns a curling, slow smirk that's gone just before R'en turns around to answer. "I dunno. I thought I'd, ah, /go there/." His arms have folded again. He looks nonchalant. "You're right though. Can't. Not without transportation. Not without bein' able t'trust someone enough not t'tell. Those're important things." Behind him Sehkrath waits, poised.
H'kon narrows his eyes at this upstart of a bronzerider, and shakes his head. "You do not need transportation because there is no need to go after them. I am certain that they are well, and going there would be... disloyal to the Weyr. If they are where you say, it may make things worse. Those people cannot be trusted to be rational, especially when faced with an irrational gesture." And scowl.
"You're absolutely right." R'en stays where he is, puts his eyes up on the ceiling. "They're irrational people over there. Dangerous, too. Crazy. Unpredictable. Determined." There's a series of slow, thoughtful nods to follow this. "Why should I be worried about any one of ours bein' over there. 'Specially my sister." In a softer voice he deadpans, "I have so much t'learn."
"Both your sister and my- both Tavaly and Vanya are safe, I have been assured of this. What makes you think, weyrling," and that title is certainly stressed, "that rash decisions will make them safer? There is no need to go there now. If there were, someone would be sent." H'kon speaks this with perfect confidence, of course. Arekoth still isn't doing his exercises.
"So you think just 'cause someone tells you somethin' it's true? You just take everything at face value like that? No wonder." Cryptic remarks aside, R'en continues. "You're blind'n dumb'n of no use t'me if all you're gonna do is /nod/. If you care anything about this girl, you'll come t'your senses'n realize she's over there," he points in a random direction, meant to represent where Five Mines lies, "with a bunch o'criminals'n if somethin' did happen t'her, who d'you think's gonna tell you?"
And if that /is/ where she has gone, then it is by the /orders/ of the /Weyrleaders/." H'kon snorts now, standing straighter again in the water, composing himself quickly enough. "I do not see how you hope to make their situation better by going there yourself. I trust what my Weyrleaders tell me. I salute those who outrank me. If there is trouble, yes, I believe something will be done. By people who understand what is happening, not by a weyrling who does not understand his place and does not know what he proposes to do."
"Useless," is R'en's last comment, practically on the heels of H'kon's speech. "Self-righteous'n useless. I know my place. Lookin' at you now, I've never been more glad of it." Now he's using real speed when he turns away to leave, ducking under Sehkrath's lifted foreleg and swinging on past it.
"Then you do not know what you would do once there," H'kon calls after him harshly, almost a shout. And the brownrider himself has turned himself around, with a look to the dragon that has him once again resuming those exercises. A few moments, and the man is running wet fingers through his hair in time with Arekoth's leg rotations.