Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on Mar 11, 2012 23:16:15 GMT -5
After a brief interlude in the crowd of Weyrfolk and newly-minted Wingriders, Q'sis left the Dining Hall and its festivities. He had taken a toast with L'kie- for his own part, only klah in a mug -and acknowledged a few others with a catching of eyes: Valha, Z'dyn, even the greenrider Tasia and the pinkrider Delilah. He might have shook Z'dyn's hand if it did not involve crossing to the other side of the tables. Since it was only a glance, he was not sure if all of them truly saw him, but he was often hard to ignore, especially hard when his distinct lack of Wingrider status hung plainly at his shoulder. He had done himself up in his ceremonial flight jacket otherwise, as an honor to L'kie and those others that deserved it...nevermind that he enjoyed such fancies.
It was not the best outfit for pursuing fugitives; much colder Between than his work jacket. But R'len could handle what misfits occurred. He pulled on his embroidered wherhide gloves as he left the odorous cavern, its last breaths steaming at his back compared to the slap of white chill waiting in the Bowl. Somewhere between acknowledging Valha and taking his drink with L'kie, the other twinrider had escaped the Hall herself and was coiled up visibly with Mith to the north.
Q'sis headed south. There were a couple small glass bottles hooked at his belt that he now transferred to both hands, crushing their slender necks as he passed one cavern entrance after another. The southern face of Dalibor was frustrating in its population, and distant from his own weyr. Q'sis crossed the bridge that partitioned the spine of the lake-stream from the tributary that coursed out of the Weyr, then went right to the wall beside the exit. The way to the stores nearby ran dark this time of night, unoccupied. The tanrider turned his back to the stone and sank in against it.
The stone was soft and warm, unafflicted the snow crunching under Q'sis' polished boots. The stone was dark, but, when some of it curled away from the rest of the wall to peer down at its guest, it revealed a dappling to the moonslight too. Glowing green eyes like those that dotted a hundred ledges across the eastern wall opened huge and lamp-like just above Q'sis' head. Unath's forelegs shifted forward, a pillar of flesh at either side of her leaning rider, trapping her body heat against him and her undercarriage.
Hi. I am in the Bowl, she informed him.
Both their breaths blew plumes against the icy air, Unath's in twin jets off her muzzle, and Q'sis' in a singular wisp. He turned the bottles in his gloved hands. There were Benden sigils carved in the glass, the containers leftovers from the night's celebration. But the red contents came from fresh fruit rather than fermentation. Unath's clawtip tinged off one bottle as she tried to investigate, but her applied force was so gentle she did not manage to break it. The sound made her abandon her exploration with a snort.
Q'sis waited, in plain view to those that had the eyes for it. Unath's wavering head, even if seen only by her green eyes swiveling often toward the bustling Dining Hall, was rather characteristic too. The Weyrling knew what was coming. He only had to wait.
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Reky
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Post by Reky on Mar 24, 2012 23:29:49 GMT -5
She had draped herself in thick Southern Boll cloth. It imbued her with both physical and mental comfort -- she could almost smell the scent of the dye rooms left on it, almost find the loose creases where it had been folded the first time. It felt enough like home that, even though she was late already, she spent a little longer admiring herself in her looking glass, cuddling up into the warmth that would keep away the bite of winter. "Naireth," she said, still looking at her own form, "Do you want to stay here?" It was, of course, a futile effort to draw an emotional response from the beast. Samael was met with a blank stare through the open door, and, quite use to it, was not the least bit perturbed. "Stay here," she said instead, and Naireth did.
Alone, Samael wandered down the back hallways of the Weyr and finally out into the night air. She was grateful for her shawl as soon as the chill got at her face, nipping the tips of her ears and nose. In a way, she supposed it was refreshing, and it did put a crispness into her quick steps, but she wouldn't have been glad if it had been clinging to the whole of her. Her expedition in the outdoors was meant to be quick - just a hop, skip and a jump over to the dining hall - but as the fashionably lately tanrider approached the entrance, she spotted a fashionably early-to-leave counterpart across the bowl.
A breathless, chapped smile spread to her face as she panted clouds and pressed on towards him. He - sitting there with his spotted dragon in the dark - was the reason she had not put much effort into punctuality. She knew very well that the Weyrleader's speech would not have been applicable to Q'sis; he had told her so. As a result, she felt no obligation to play witness to it. It wasn't for her and it wasn't for anyone she knew well, and so she didn't care. (She had briefly felt guilty about this and considered making it on time anyway, but leaned in favour of taking her time.) She was really only going to keep Q'sis company - even sober company, if he wanted - since he would be an odd one out without his new knots.
Sam walked straight towards him and, upon catching his gaze, offered a smile from afar. In the awkward distance between seeing him in detail and finally reaching his side, she was fully aware of the breath of winter wind, of the faint clamor of the Dining Hall, of little black Balto's telepathic presence somewhere on the lake with a float of other flits. Calling to him felt too loud and disruptive, and so she didn't, but there was nothing else to be done until she got to him except walk a little faster.
She sunk down next to him, breathing a gentle "Hey." Then she looked up and added a little greeting to the dragon there, and opted not to concern Q'sis with any sort of condolences. He likely didn't need or want them; they both knew why he had left the ceremony knotless. She suspected it would rectify itself eventually, anyway. Though Sam knew she likely had a much, much higher opinion of Q'sis than most others, it was absurd to hold him back forever. (He was too good for that, she thought - and would insist to anyone else.)
"Was the speech alright?" she asked. "I wasn't there." [/blockquote] |
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on Mar 27, 2012 0:17:15 GMT -5
His contemplation of the red bottle went uninterrupted until Samael's moonlit reflection graced the edge of the glass. Q'sis detached himself from the brace of Unath's belly, the dragon rumbling soft protest. The Weyrling stared down the tanrider for a moment, then smiled back at her.
Their timing had never been convenient since the Hatching. He should have been more blatant to Samael about the purpose of the hunting location he had shared with her, as the watch never begrudged a trip for wild delicacies- at least, not before Sicriath's fatal travels. On the other hand, the sharing of Threadfall duties meant their dragons frequently required washings at the same time. Summer had been best for that.
But Weyrlinghood's restrictions had forced him to remain passive, merely an observer of Samael's...persistence. To a tradebred, accustomed to transient encounters, it was an exercise in tolerance that the woman thankfully made as painless as possible. She had never been, in his estimation, direct. She simply made herself conspicuous and available. The only insult was how she remained close when he had duly informed her of his failure three months prior, which invited the notion that she was not particularly elevated in her standards.
He should have known she would surface tonight. Not out of pity, but in accordance with her tactic of remaining constant in his life. It was only his cultivated attitude that had made him miss the possibility, and that annoyed him. But she didn't.
"Short," he answered, watching her slip right between Unath's paws and seat herself. A steamy breath washed slowly off his lips, then he sat down beside her. "As it should be. You don't need an announcement proclaiming you a dragonrider when you've been flying Thread for half a Turn. The only distinction is that you no longer double as a firestone draybeast." He set aside the bottles he'd brought, lodging them against a couple rocks to his right.
Unath ignored Samael's acknowledgment of her. Q'sis, however, remained attentive, reaching over to tease a fold of the other rider's sleeve between his fingers. He had to lean closer to get a good look at the fiber in this darkness, but eventually released the fabric and applied his hand to Samael's cheek. "I have been waiting for someone, but I don't know if she will show." This plan explained Unath's non-response: Q'sis had claimed her senses to watch for the intended guest. It also explained why he was still talking rather than indulging Samael. "It was a promise I made with her, so I have to wait."
His fingers traced Samael's cheekbone, brushed across the shell of her ear, then slid over her hair, which he started to grip. "Though I remain a dray, some of the old rules no longer have purpose. So, when I have the time." He released her, laying both his hands resolutely to the ground and tipping his head back against the wall of Unath's body. "Tonight, Kalenna gets another half-'mark to figure me."
I am at the southeast wall. He bespoke Kalesk through Unath; that would make certain any absence on the Betahandler's part was a conscious choice rather than a mistaken location. He had not thought such hurried directives were necessary earlier, but Samael had a way of settling his priorities.
"Not that I have the right drinks for any of this," he added to his current companion. "The kitchen staff was upset by my order, for some reason." The still-Weyrling smirked.
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Cathaline
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Post by Cathaline on Apr 1, 2012 17:08:41 GMT -5
Kalenna had known well before this night that Q'sis would not be among the graduates. It surprised her, and she felt for him, yet she did not disapprove of the decision in principle, from what she knew of why it had been made. Weyrlinghood had not yet broken him to the standards of the Weyr. Kalenna had achieved graduation with her class despite being newer than any of them in part because she had grown up in Igen, and knew what would be expected of her; Q'sis, former Trader that he was, did not fully understand what it meant to obey one's leaders and fight for the good of all. He was too used to command, and too ignorant of nuance.
Yet she knew it must pain him, little though he'd ever show it. He was among the eldest of his class, and the only one held back, still restricted in ways that could now serve little purpose. Then, too, he must think himself right in all things.
She felt it her duty as a betahandler to attend the graduation and to remain for a decent amount of time. Her lips twisted into a wry smile when Kalesk said coldly, Bright dragon call.[/i] At least Q'sis-Unath was not rude to her. And frankly, she'd rather be out there anyway.
Kalenna made her excuses to those she was talking to and headed out into the Bowl, retrieving her long jacket, gloves, and scarf from the bench she'd laid them on. Her breath puffed out in little clouds as she stepped outside, though it was still early in the winter, and with Kalesk ranging ahead to watch for any danger, she headed toward the southeast wall. Though it did not show particularly well under her winter clothes, she had indeed procured a dress of Igen blue as Q'sis had demanded; she would not have obeyed, save that, him being so cast down, she felt it would not reflect so poorly on her to give him this one thing.
Her eyebrow arched at the sight of the woman with him. "Samael," she said with a nod; they were not personally acquainted, but Kalenna did know the tanrider by sight. "Q'sis. This is not quite what we had planned." There would be no alcohol, nor celebration. But if he refused to put off their fake date until his true graduation, then she would offer him her presence, since she neither could nor wanted to give him much else.
Kalesk snorted, examining Samael and finally deeming her a non-threat, though she watched both humans - and Unath - with grave suspicion.
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Reky
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Post by Reky on Apr 3, 2012 21:26:54 GMT -5
"Don't worry," she said, leaning her chilled cheek into his hand. "I figured you were out here for a reason." Her words came as cloud-like as her breath, through dry and parted lips. She licked them, and as he gripped her hair, she wondered how she had come to be so infatuated with such strange entity. Older than her, but still a weyrling; undeniably dominant and even intimidating, but still endearing in his belief in his own infallibility. His touch set a warmth in her core, as well as a knot of guilt. Had that been how her arrival had came off? As a plea to have him take her again? She admitted that, yes, she had partly showed up to make their brand of "congratulations" a tradition, even though there really wasn't anything to congratulate him on except his own stubbornness.
In any case, was perfectly happy to play third wheel to Q'sis' promised meetings, because she had mainly showed up simply because she enjoyed his company and hoped that was acceptable. "How inconsiderate of you," and she smirked as well. "Making them get out the juice when they already took out all the wine." Samael laughed. They had also, she considered belatedly, cooked an entire feast and continued to cater to a ravenous, partying Weyr. Even the thought of all that work made Sam feel weary, though she was definitely not one to voluntarily choose any sort of strenuous work that didn't involve Naireth. Thank Faranth for Naireth; without her, Sam would have surely become more acquainted with her own unproductiveness. Being a dragonrider excused her from having to be a "real" woman by Q'sis' standards - one who cooked and cleaned and had babies.
She sent the beast brief thoughts of love and, of course, received none in return because Naireth only doled out her protectiveness when necessary. Samael was in no immediate danger, and so Naireth was placid. Good enough, thought Sam.
Soon enough, Kalenna and her massive golden beast appeared in the dark. "There she is," Sam smiled, though Q'sis' had likely already seen. The pair drew near and the tanriders' names were issued in an unfamiliar voice. Similarly, Samael knew Kalenna by name and sight alone, for the identity of a goldhandler was not a secret one. Sam was welcoming anyway; she had nothing to hold against this woman, and she supposed Q'sis approved of her - not that that was really a valid measurement of character. She grinned and tipped her head. "Kalenna."
She peered only briefly at the prowling Kalesk. She had never been bothered by the size of dragons, but whers were a creature all their own. Even at a size smaller than a white, Kalesk didn't look like an animal who wanted to be stared at, and so Sam didn't stare. [/blockquote] |
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on Apr 4, 2012 11:43:03 GMT -5
Q'sis raised his palms in a rare show of feigning innocence, then smiled at Samael. She would only get half the expression: the side of his face nearer to Unath lay shadowed, while the light of the moons crept over the crags of the right side, glinting off his eye. Even those details fell into obscurity as he exhaled, iced breath fogging the view. His dragon's survey of the Bowl had spotted Kalenna the moment she entered the cold. While Samael notified him of her own observation along those lines, Q'sis was kissing the side of her smile. He retracted before he thought Kalesk was close enough to notice. The young queen seemed distracted anyway, what with Unath and the entirely unfamiliar Sam to account for.
"Good evening Kalenna," he said, gaze lingering on the bottom fringe of her winter jacket before he gathered the red bottles back to his belt and climbed to his feet. He bowed to the leonine presence of the Betahandler's other half. "Kalesk." The hulking watchwher was one of the few entities remaining in Dalibor that commanded such an unreserved gesture of respect. She had not yet been tested, but she had the benefit of the doubt. Q'sis glanced at Samael while his head was down, shifting his bearded chin ever-so-slightly forward to indicate the gold. His gloved hand extended to the other tanrider, so he could pull her up as he straightened.
The dragon looming over the four of them ticked her head to one side at Kalesk's snort. She stuck out her paw, only slightly deterred by the warning "Unath" her rider muttered at her from below, and planted it beside one of Kalesk's. Her five giant claws, and Kalesk's sharp two.
See? she asked the wher. Past his initial warning, Q'sis did his best to ignore the bright aside.
"No, it's not," he agreed. Kalenna could very well have been referring to the far more serious conflict with their destiny, but, "She snuck up on me," he teased as he looked over Samael. "There's no hiding in the Bowl." The ex-Tideturner smirked back over at the Betahandler. A silence which he might otherwise have filled with additional jesting signified an unspoken expectation: that he did not deserve the company they had agreed on.
Yet Kalenna had answered his summons, and she did not appear to be revving up any dismissals in the pause. Q'sis looked down to his hip, then ran his fingers over the bottle buckled there. "I did procure these. So, there's drinks. Everything seems to be in order, though it is very cold out here. There's no contrast between the salve and the air. We'll go to your quarters. I'm sure they're warm." To his credit, he kept his grin at non-ridiculous proportions. It was more the smile he had been seeking earlier, but hadn't yet secured the enthusiasm for. "Besides, Kalesk may not appreciate me stealing you away to...there." His leather-clad arm extended to point across the Bowl, to the spines of the northern Rim, and the unlit black smudge marking his weyr.
As his hand dropped back to his side, Q'sis said to Kalenna, "You look a little cold right now." Unath chose that moment to carefully climb over them and lay down on the ice crust beside the meeting, wings half-crinkled over her broad back. Her head descended to rest on the ground, gleaming green eye casting them in a light as good as a glowbasket's. Unath would never equal Naireth's size, and her head was not as big as Kalesk's body. The absence of her between the humans and the wall allowed the wind to whip past at a chillier clip. "I am sure the queen will not object to your comfort." Q'sis looked to Samael, face clearing of pleasant overtures. "Sam," he said, but did not actually dictate her part. Instead he stared at her, features tensing with expectation.
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Reky
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Post by Reky on Apr 6, 2012 13:53:46 GMT -5
As Q'sis pulled her up and motioned to the wher again, Samael offered a belated dip of her head to the Queen. She felt brief embarrassment for not having been respectful in the first place, but consoled herself with knowing that she really had no experience with whers and how to treat them anyway. An honest mistake, she told herself, and there was no disrespect meant by it.
She felt giddy and a little warmer to have been included by Q'sis' smiles and teasing. For whatever reason, she had expected to be ignored. She smiled apologetically to both he and Kalenna, but it really was partly Q'sis' fault for sitting so out in the open with such a large and unmistakable beast beside him. (He had also worked up to it by tolerating her adoring company so often and giving her absolutely no reason to avoid him.)
And though she knew little of whers and their night-bound habits, she did laugh lightly at the idea of a wher's handler whisked away to the tip of the Weyr's stone walls. The view was great from their, but perhaps not to such short-sighted, photosensitive flat eyes, and upsetting a Queen wher was decidedly not in anyone's best interest.
As Unath laid down her head, Samael pulled her richly pattern shawl in tightly and, with Q'sis' hint and the mild irritation that he should feel the need to remind her so, addressed Kalenna politely. "I'd be honoured if I could join you two," she said. "I promise I don't take up much space. You planned this in advance, though, so I understand if you want to interrogate Q'sis in private. I don't mind." And she smiled brightly in the dark. Perhaps she did mind a little bit, but only out of childish jealousy in sharing the man's company - and she, at least, hadn't eaten yet, which gave her something to do in the meantime if Kalenna wanted the weyrling to herself. Sam hoped she didn't. [/blockquote] |
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Cathaline
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Post by Cathaline on Apr 24, 2012 20:59:59 GMT -5
Kalesk examined every inch of Unath's proffered paw, but it all seemed to be in order. If she was showing off her size and larger number of digits, that was annoying, but Kalesk rather suspected the tan was simply proud to have remembered that they were different, despite the blatant obviousness of it. Kalesk's shade was tannish, but unmistakable glinted metallic, and she peered up at the dragon, potential coiled in her stouter body. Her instinct if the tan moved threateningly was to attempt to tear her throat out, but there was something wrong with that, and she touched Kalenna's mind. Oh, yes. Strategy. Kill the human and the dragon would be rendered useless.
But we don't kill dragonriders,[/i] Kalenna reminded her with a ghost of a smile. Kalesk was volatile in her way, but rarely did her aggression and suspicion burst forth in actual violence. The people and creatures of Dalibor had better sense than to threaten a goldhandler.
Kalesk sighed, examining the two dragonriders. If they tried to harm Hers, she would rip off their hands, she decided, casting another glance back at Unath's paw.
"No," Kalenna answered Q'sis, scratching Kalesk's neck. "She won't object, and my quarters aren't far. Just inside the entrance." She gestured to the gaping aperture in the cave wall to the north. "You're quite welcome, Samael. A party for Q'sis would hardly be any good if his chosen guests weren't allowed, and I would enjoy getting to know you."
Bit pathetic, having a party for his failure, but it seemed to be his desire. Kalesk huffed at Unath, glad her bulk was being left behind, and then slunk off toward the entrance to check for lurking shadows as the humans collected themselves to follow.
Kalenna had a large chamber overlooking the main entrance to the wherhandlers' quarters - easy access for any who needed to speak to her on business. It was dim, and she said, "My apologies - I'm used to being in more darkness than most, nowadays." Kalesk curled up in a corner, but her apparent relaxation masked a wary alertness, her eyes drifting from Q'sis to Samael and back again. Kalenna dragged a couple of stools over for them to sit on. "Now, let's have these drinks. What would you care to talk about, Q'sis?" There could be no mistaking what she wanted to know - all the specifics of his failure to graduate - but this was hardly the time for the proposed interrogation.
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on Apr 25, 2012 14:30:38 GMT -5
Unath's snout tracked Kalesk as the wher dismissed her. When the party heading to the Wherhandlers' Quarters had almost met the entrance of their destination, the dragon finally produced a blustering imitation of the queen's huff. Unath's noise was too nasal, more of a snort, but just as haughty. Then she flapped her blue tongue out over the end of her nose before dropping her head back down. She sprawled on the Bowl floor, but she would inchworm her way closer to the Quarters over the next candlemark or two.
Q'sis had a bit more intensity in his observation of Kalesk than his tan did. The gold was less indulgent tonight, if he was any judge. Probably because of Samael. Since Kalenna was ahead, leading the way, he took a moment to glance sidelong at the other tanrider. This was not what he had planned at all. "Parties" and "guests" did not suggest any sort of intimate environment. But since Kalenna had admitted the nature of the scenario first, she was also necessarily admitting that this was not the simple meeting with drinks they had agreed upon, which meant he could demand as much from her again later. The tanrider smirked at Samael, touching his palm to the small of her back and running his fingers up her spine. She'd no doubt feel little of it beneath her winter clothes, but it was the suggestion that mattered.
The dragonrider looked up to the ceiling of the shallow atrium that fed in the Quarters, as if the height of it was impressive to him. The odor of whers, no less pleasant than a dragon's but to Q'sis drier and more coffee than cinnamon, had been tracked everywhere and descended on them like they had passed through a veil. Q'sis took a deep breath and his advance halted on the fuzzy line that separated the cave's inner shadows from the starlit winter's night. The muscle through his jaw tightened, and he swallowed. But Kalenna had said her own dark niche was just inside. Q'sis advanced again before the Betahandler's silhouette vanished from view.
"I don't mind," he said of the darkness. He watched Kalesk with only the periphery of his gaze, which granted no particular detail but confirmed the wher's continued inaction in the area of mauling intruders. She was obviously not pleased with the dragonriders, but gave off no rude hostilities. Good control by her Handler, he suspected. He regarded the stool Kalenna provided with a pinch of disgust wrinkling his lips. "Seat many children, do you?" the weyrling grumbled, reeling over the seat and enthroning himself delicately upon it. He rocked once as if to demonstrate the fallibility of the woodwork, but the stool did not budge as compliantly as he expected. He might not mind the darkness, but it certainly toyed with his eye for craftsmanship.
Q'sis plucked the red bottles from his belt and hung them between the fingers of his right hand, a faint tremor in his grip ringing them together. He extended his left hand towards the Handler so as to receive some glasses from her. Wineglasses the drink would not suit, but stone mugs like what was offered at the Dining Hall's communal trough would insult. "Consider new accommodations for your many guests, Betahandler," he ordered, though the previous annoyance had been exchanged for amusement. This was a semi-legitimate lecture, after all.
The first glass- or mug -would go to Samael. Q'sis set his own aside, and passed the last back to Kalenna. He set the bottles down close to himself, and did not pick up what he had poured to drink. "Take your coat off," he replied. "It is so warm in here, Kalenna. There's no need. You too, Sam."
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Reky
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Post by Reky on Jun 8, 2012 21:53:35 GMT -5
"Oh, don't worry. The dark is fine."
Sam was a polite guest, partly due to her parents' considerate rearing, and partly due to the fact that she had no idea what to do. She sat politely, perfectly content with the stool, and took of her jacket politely, perfectly content with being told to do so. She held it awkwardly for a moment before standing, laying it across the stool, and sitting upon it. Her hands found the cup that Q'sis had filled for her, and she took a simple sip.
"Really, Kalenna," she offered, cracking a smile because it was only natural to her. "And Kalesk," she added. "Thanks for allowing me into your place. This is probably too much juice for only two of you to drink, anyway." Although, considering that Q'sis had not counted on Samael's attendance, that was probably not so. She was just antsy to get herself to feel comfortable, and talking helped.
The tanrider considered making a toast - 'to more weyrlinghood than usual,' perhaps - but she settled for taking another drink instead. She looked about Kalenna's quarters and decided that, if dim, they were quite nice. She was warming up to the atypical, naturally-formed cavern walls. The lower ceiling was a change from the wideness of weyrs, but it held a nice little homeliness. Cozy, she decided, and checked to see if her Southern Boll-cloth coat was going to brush the ground too much or not and fixed it. [/blockquote] |
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