Small Freakin' World

Autumn - Day 9 of Month 10 of Turn 2714

Igen Weyr - Lake Shore

It is sometimes hard to tell where the bowl ends and the lake shore begins. Fine grains of gold, tan and orange hued sand layer much as the bowl walls in the distance beyond. The sand only gives way to thin patches of grass where the tall fence of the feeding grounds intersects the lake to the south and the smooth curve of the bowl wall rises on the opposite shore. At that intersection one can make out a small building and colorful fabrics where the Weyr's residents go to relax. The shallow lake waters shimmer invitingly, day and night, lapping at the fine grain sands. Engineered pipes are hidden beneath the bowl landscape and feed the lake as well as the grasses of the feeding grounds to keep the water levels from dropping past a certain point which is marked by a waist high obelisk.

It's well into autumn, which for Igen means it's still warm doing the day — hot for those unused to the dry desert air. It's nearing late afternoon, which by Igen standards means it's uncomfortable, though such things don't allow a weyrling to avoid work. There's a group throwing firestone sacks between them, one of the assistant weyrlingmasters with them droning out some lecture or other. It's a good bet that none of the weyrlings are paying much attention. Apparently one of the weyrlings isn't paying attention to his partner, Z'ki, since the once-guard throws the sack, and it impacts one of his fellow weyrling's fingers, awkwardly. There's some yelling and cursing, the assistant weyrlingmaster comes over, and then Z'ki's accompanying his fellow weyrling away from the group, presumably towards the infirmary. Their dragons, by the lake, have it easy by comparison — dozing in the heat.

There is a flash of something high above the weyr, a glint of sunlight on bronze hide as Aedeluth and S'van suddenly appear, a dot in the clear blue sky. Wings angle, sails catch, and the young bronze spirals downward with little care for who may be below. It is toward the Bowl they descend, though halfway down the angle of descent changes and they make for the lake instead. A rush of wind as Aede backwings, though he is far enough away to not endanger the weyrlings at their task. There's an awkward moment, left leg down first as he favors his right, and then down *WHUMP* into the sand and done. A thump on the neck precedes S'van's dismount. The second feet touch sand, the Half Moonian is stripping out of his riding gear, tossing it aside in a heap; goggle, gloves and jacket. And then he heads towards the group with a ground-eating stride that says he is here on purpose, and with a purpose. He looks… absolutely nothing like Sephany. While she is pale and wispy, a bit of light come down to the earth, dainty and delicate and careful in her steps, her brother is tall and confident, brawl and power, moving in a way that speaks to balance and physical training; someone has taught him to fight, and he carries himself in a way that says he is more than able to take down a threat. But there's an easiness to his expression, a relaxed look that says he's not likely to start anything (just finish things). It is the eyes that would mark him as one of her kin; the same shape and color of grey, in a much more chiseled face. He is near enough to witness that unfortunate catch, and there's a hissing breath through his teeth and a quick, "Ouch. That's gotta hurt," murmured in sympathy for the injured party. For the draconic-half, there is a moment of consideration, wedged head angled towards little weyrlings, eyes whirling slowly. And then he moves to follow S'van. His gait is ever-so-slightly lopsided, a slight favoring of his back right leg, which is noticeably less fleshed-out and muscled than the other.

Once the pair of weyrlings are a few steps away from the others — far enough that the assistant weyrlingmaster can't hear — the injured party gives Z'ki a look and says something in a low, sharp voice, before striding hastily off across the bowl by herself. This earns a furrow of brow from Z'ki, who keeps walking, albeit slowly, in that direction, rather than immediately returning to the lesson. Thankfully for him it seems to be ending anyway, the group behind him beginning to stack the firestone sacks one on top of the other. "Daydreaming," comes Z'ki's wry response to S'van. "Maybe it'll make her more attentive next time." And, moments later, habit makes him issue a sharp salute towards S'van, offering a nod for the draconic half of pair, as well. "Welcome to Igen, sir," he greets.

Raised eyebrows for the retreating weyrling and a twitch to the corner of his mouth that is more dry amusement than apprehension or concern. "Ah," for the daydreaming, and then "Eh…" for Z'ki's hope that it will encourage attentiveness in the future. "Maybe. But you'd be surprised," he continues, watching the retreating back as she goes. "What'd you say to piss her off, though?" is what he really wants to know, definitely more amused than anything else. "Thanks," for the welcome to Igen. "S'van," for himself. "Aedeluth," with a thumb tossed over his shoulder toward the large bronze encroaching on their space. "From Half Moon,"and Sev's arms fold across his chest, a casual stance taken as he squints around the beach. "S'bout as hot and sandy as I remember. Nothing changes in Igen."

"She, uh, seems to have an interest in one of our fellow weyrlings. Said I bet she'd pay more attention if she were with him. She didn't like that." Unsurprisingly. Z'ki's expression is somewhat awkwardly embarrassed. "Not my proudest moment," he admits, with a rolling shift of his shoulders. "Z'ki," he replies in turn, something with that mixture of proud-and-fond slipping into his voice as he says, "Jizunoth," gesturing towards the bronze curled up in the midst of the other dragons. And then something clicks, "S'van? Sephany's brother?" he asks, abruptly.

"Ha, did you really?" S'van asks with no real need for confirmation. There's a few chuffs of amusement and a shake of his head. "Yeah… she's gonna wanna get her head straight on that real quick. Shouldn't be thinking about relationships this soon in the game," says the bloody-freakin' hypocrite. "Eh… you can apologize later, if it really bothers you. Otherwise, I wouldn't stress it. Gonna get a lot worse before you graduate." That fact that he says it in such a motivational tone just makes it that much more ominous, right? And though he doesn't go so far as to clap Z'ki on the back, there is definitely a 'sucks to be you' expression to go with that smart-ass smirk of his. He's happy enough to turn his back on the injured party, especially considering she's putting some serious distance between them. "Well met," and grey eyes find the curled up bronze. "Bronze eh? Nice! Congrats." The smirk wavers at the mention of his sister, moving into the realm of surprise. "You know my sister?" That would be a 'yes', then. "Small freakin' world."

It's late afternoon, and still quite hot for all that it's autumn at Igen. The weyrlings look to be finishing up a lesson by the lake, starting to disperse now they've packed away the firestone sacks. Z'ki's standing a little aways from the lake, talking with S'van — the bronzerider's words making Z'ki's brows rise, because, well. "Aren't you supposed to say — it gets better, light at the end of the tunnel, etcetera?" He gives a brief clearing of his throat. "Well, she visits Igen often enough, though I met her at Fort, actually, during the last winter games."

"I could," concedes S'van, that grin just growing, "But that would be a lie. And I only lie if it serves a purpose." He looks altogether way too amused by this situation, grin wide and devilish as he glances towards the weyrling dragons again. "It will get better, too, but it'll get a helluva lot worse, first. Especially since ya all are living together? Yeah. Right now it's all eat-sleep-bathe and you don't have time to bicker, really. That'll change. Wait till someone really doesn't like someone else, or your freakin' best friend decides to try and do you a favor that almost ruins your life, or a freakin' shark gets washed into the barracks." Yes. It happened. "But sure. Light at the end. Just focus on that." As for how he knows Sephany? This seems to simply ask more questions than it answers. "What the fuck is she doing in Igen?" which is not at all as angry as it could be, much more surprised than anything else. Clearly, they don't talk about this. "Ah, OK. Yeah, I heard about those games. Still a weyrling with Aede at the time so… couldn't go myself. But she said she enjoyed the ice skating. Aedeluth is here. But he is not at all interested in human-chatter. And he's not terribly interested in baby dragons either, though there's a flickering of a connection sent towards Jizunoth; a little zing of electricity as cables touch and vanish, not nearly as polite as they ought to be. The mental equivalent of a little 'poke-poke' to the shoulder.

Really, one hot destination after another. Couldn't her master send her to a delivery to Fort, or High Reaches. Either would be quite dandy! At least Igen is a dry heat, but its still Hot. Kelani is heading back to the lake after dealing with her errands with the local healer and helping out with a minor emergency. So there was some delays, but finally she rejoins her 'transport' rider at the designated meeting point by the lake, wiping sweat from her brow with one hand and scratching a bit at her the left side of her chest with the other at some itch. "Sorry that took me so long S'van." She says as she makes her way nearer to Aeduluth.

Z'ki makes a noise like a grunt, giving S'van a bland look. This look mutates into something disbelieving, at first, then incredulous as he continues. "These things seem rather statistically unlikely to happen." He pauses, "Particularly the shark. But I consider myself duly warned." He seems surprised by S'van's surprise about his sister. "She's been visiting her… your sisters." There's a shift of his weight, back on to the balls of his feet, as he glances towards where the weyrling dragons are. "Ice skating isn't really my thing, but my cousin's a fan." The zing towards Jizunoth fizzles out and dies. The Igenite bronze yawns, cracks and eye — and promptly closes it again. How rude! Kelani's arrival earns a nod, and a, "Ma'am," that is either habit or just plain caution, given his current status.

"Yeah, you'd think so, right?" for the statistical improbability, "but all of 'em happened to me. Well. Except that no one really took a strong dislike to me. No wait," and a considering frown as S'van thinks about it. "They did. And yeah. Shark. In the barracks." He's not even kidding. "But suppose Igen doesn't need to worry 'bout that one so much. Though maybe… I dunno. Extreme dust?" Grin. "Think I'd take the shark." But aside from the amusement that comes with discussing the hazards of weyrlinghood, he can't help but be a bit confused as to his sister's visiting habits. "Oh yeah? Huh. OK then." Shrug. "She was always the patient one," which is all he's going to say about that. "Just tried it, myself," for ice skating. "All I gotta say is it's a long way down when you're tall, and I think I'd prefer to spectate." Aedeluth is most definitely rude. And not at all sorry for it. Though Jizunoth has more or less proven his point on the boring-ness of baby dragons. So there is no attempt to reengage or push further. Instead, he with just settle his bulk into the sand and stare at S'van in a pointed way. Bored. Bored-bored-bored. Oh. Kelani. "Hey Kelani," for her approach. There's a side-ways glance to Z'ki for the 'ma'am' bit, followed real quick by a snort of amusement and a few chuffs of laughter. "Ma'am," he teases Kelani.

Kelani blinks at the greeting from the bronze weyrlings, "Oh no, I am just an apprentice. Kel will do." There is nearly a look of horror at being Ma'am'd and a glance over her shoulder in case she missed the presence of some old woman he was meaning to talk to and looks back, "Yeah, Just Kel." The mention of iceskating sparks an interest in the young woman. "Yeah I missed out on the winter skating in Fort this year as well…but I did love it growing up there." The retelling of the shark in the barracks gets a nod from the young woman, "Yes, there was. You should have seen us trying to work out how to get it out before it exploded." At the teasing from S'van she gives him a look and a sharp elbow into the side, "Don't you start." Before she gives a little squirm and another scratch around her shoulder.

By the way Z'ki's brows are rising, he's merely humoring the other bronzerider, same as he would for any tall tale told to him. "Hmm. Sounds fascinating," he says with the well-practiced sincerity of a guard used to many a tale. "It doesn't sound like you get back here much," he says, instead, perhaps to deftly direct the conversation away from Sephany. Or maybe he's just that genuinely curious. Despite the fact that Jizunoth pretends at dozing, Aedeluth might get a sense of the Igenite dragon's presence all the same, mere moments before he goes loud: « YOU'RE NOT THAT BIG. » "As you like, ma'am." Z'ki's persisting. How rude! "Z'ki," he offers. "I hear it's already getting cold in Fort. Probably won't be that long until the next one." There's a fleetingly wistful look, though it's there and gone fast enough to easily miss.

Even with a Healer to vouch for him, Sev's shark-tale is not believed. Woe. But he is not the type to argue; he knows the truth. There's a shrug of his shoulders and a too-wide grin for Z'ki's humoring of him. "Nah," for visiting Igen. "I left when Seph left. She's at Fort now, so I don't really feel the need to visit here. It's all sand and sisters; with babies and lives of their own." A bob of his head toward Kelani, "Just came to pick her up. Doin' a favor for a friend in Seamount," because he is very much not a transport rider, says the Search and Rescue patch on the discarded jacket. "And I'm being thoroughly reminded why I stay away." Aedeluth cannot raise an eyebrow, as he does not have one, but there is definitely the impression of a raised eyebrow in the mental connection between them. « Never said I was, » he offers causally enough. « And you ain't that big either, pipsqueak. » He has no need to raise his voice and, in fact, it's hushed tones that reach the little bronze, fuzzy code over the flickering screens of his mind, as if he can't be bothered to put more effort into the connection or conversation than is absolutely necessary. Poor Kelani just gets a wide, wide grin, and a gleam in grey eyes that says yeah, he'll be ma'am-ing her for some time to come. "Whatever you say, ma'am." He may lose a finger, but she can just sew it back on, right? "Aren't you always harping on me when I call your age into question? Shouldn't you be pleased I'm addressing you as an adult?" All that squirming and scratching is certainly noticed, though he doesn't linger on where those fingers are going. "You're not contagious, are you?"

"I might have to plan my visit for the midwinter's festival this time. It is the best time of year to be around Fort." Kelani says with a smile at the memory of her childhood no doubt. As the men continue to call her ma'am she just sighs. "Its not just an adult thing, but like what you call the aunty in the kitchen level adult." When people are really Old. She gives a swat at the finger and hrmphs. "Ok, call me Ma'am then Sir." There is a sigh at the question, "No no, I am not contagious its just a …a heat rash." She mutters to his question and glances back to the bronze dragons, "He making friends as always?" She says before looking back to the bronzeriders, "I reckon he is nicer than he acts, just have to bluster and fuss like his rider." She says with a half smile for the tall Half moon rider.

Z'ki's posture shifts, marginally. It's a subtle thing, but one could glean he takes offense from Half Moon rider's words about being reminded why he stays away. "That seems a shame, sir. It's a place that breeds hardy folk, and you well ought to know." The exchange between S'van and Kelani is taken for the excuse it is — for him to extricate himself seamlessly: "If you'll pardon me, I should be tending to Ji. It was nice to meet you both," he says, carefully. Jizunoth is drawing himself to his full height — a little over half of his final length, one could guess — wings spreading for a moment. « DID NOT SAY I WAS EITHER. » But, look. His wings are pretty huge, right? And pretty to boot. And then Z'ki's walking to meet him, and the dragon gives a huff to the other bronze that might be a farewell as the pair head off.

"Maybe," for breeding hardy folk, but S'van is reluctant to expand on the merits of Igen Weyr. It is not home, and the way he peers around that the sand-and-rock clearly says he does not hold the same fondness for his birthplace as Z'ki might. "Bye," for the retreating Weyrling, though there's a lingering look for him; a narrowed gaze that is definitely assessing him from head to toe as the former-guard has his back turned. Thoughts remain his own, though, as he turns to Kelani. "As long as you don't pass it to me," he tells her with a smirk and a sassy, "Ma'am." But then he's done teasing her. Probably. "Yeah… no. He's not. Trust me. I am definitely the friendly one of the pair," for Aedeluth and, as their conversation partner has left, Sev turns to start heading for his dragon, expecting Kelani to follow. "Best get home, then, so you can stop itching at inappropriate places." There is no more comment from Aedeluth; he has no need to defend himself or engage in meaningless arguments, even if there's amusement zinging through that mental connection. Smug. Self-satisfied. "When is this festival? I might stop by…" for the snow. And the food.

Kelani gives him a gentle elbowing and at his teasing, "I promise its not contagious, just itchy." She responds as she follows him back to the dragon, but she does notice the look he gives the place and sobers somewhat, "You don't look like a man at home.." She says gently head tilting to look up at him. "I guess you found your place elsewhere?" She says but doesn't press him too hard on the matter if he doesn't want to speak of it. The door is open though. She was terribly homesick, but has mostly settled into the weyr and the changing life there. "Well…its at Midwinter silly..skating, snowball fights, making snowmen. Food and bonfires..It's quite a thing to experience. You had little festivles around the halls, but often we would go up to the Hold for the big festival." And she starts to scratch a bit and maybe the healer tunic shifts just enough to get a glimpse of red edges along a dark patch a skin.

"Igen was never my home," says S'van flatly. "It was a place that I lived and grew up at. Home was with Sephany. When she left, she took it with her. I found a new home." And that's all he's going to say on that, having no qualms at all about turning his back on the sand and stone of Igen as he reaches Aedeluth's side. He stoops, swiping his discarded riding gear from the sand; jacket slung over an arm while he pulls the goggles onto his head to rest around his neck. "Here," and he thrusts another jacket her direction. "Might be hot now, but you'll want this when we're in the sky. And Between, of course." Gloves also grabbed, though he just shoves them into the pocket of his jacket as he turns to test Aedeluth's straps. "Midwinter, yeah," eyeroll. "Right then. Fort Hold? We can go." He turns to assess her readiness just in time to catch that tunic slip, a little frown. "Are you sure that's just from the heat?" with a quick lift of his finger to draw attention to the patch. "Are you safe to go Between? If there's an open wound, we shouldn't go. Otherwise…" and he juts a thumb at Aede, "Up."

Kelani takes the offered jacket and shrugs it on before taking the hand to help mount up. Clearly not her first trip a dragonback. "It is not a wound. I assure you I am fine. It is a bit of folly that will sort it out soon enough but it is not a wound." She settles in the saddle beneath him and rechecks her own buckles again. Used to it she may have become but she is still well aware of what could go wrong in flight. She gives his side a pat to assure him again she is fine to go.

"A'right then," says S'van, unwilling to argue with a healer about healer-y things. And then up he goes, settling himself comfortable on Aedeluth's neck. There are practiced and mechanical movements, checking of buckles and fastening of clips as he ensure both of them are prepared for the flight. "Hang on," he warns, because Aedeluth's launch is particularly rocky, his bum-leg making take-off just a bit more wobbly than most. But once in the air, it is smooth sailing. FAST, but smooth, and the young bronze is soon high above the Weyr. True to his words, the air is chilly and cold at this altitude, likely making a jacket welcome. There's a quick squeeze of her arm in forewarning, and then they vanish *Between*, enveloped in the utter darkness of the void. One. Two. Three. And they reappear over the familiar shape of Half Moon Bay Weyr. Aedeluth's descent is quick, caring not at all for the stomachs of his passengers as he angles himself for a steep dive only to swoop upwards at the last minute and *THUMP* landing solidly in the weyrbowl near the infirmary. "Careful on the way down," because Sev is not dismounting this time.

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