Who

Ebben, Kultir

What

Sitting in the surf, talking about stuff, getting creeped out by a lizard.

When

It is the sixty-first day of Summer and 115 degrees. It is a beautiful, sunny day marred by the overwhelming humidity.

Where

Southern Beach

OOC Date

 

ebben.jpg kultir2.jpg

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Beach

An eerie mirror, the glass-quiet Sea of Azov: the clear waters stretch along the dark-pebbled shores, and along this narrow beach. Here the faintest lap of waves belies the calm beyond; here the rocks have been ground down into finest, softest sand - those observant would mark upon the similarity between it and the sands of the hatching grounds. The soft sand soaks up summer sunlight as a sponge; painfully hot during the warmer months, it is only truly pleasant at wintertime. Rocks rise to east and west lichen-limned and green against the abyssal darkness of stone.


Ebben has employed the use of a small beach umbrella, propped at water's edge. The candidate is stretched underneath it, perfectly shaded while his exposed legs lay half-consumed by surf. The soft swell and whisper of the tide has lulled Ebben into a light sleep, his head cradled on crossed arms, bared chest speckled with wind-blown sand. A spiderclaw has established itself just to the right of Ebben, a clear indication that the young man has been out for a while.

Soft thumps in the sand can be heard before the soft huffing of Kultir's breath as he runs down the beach. Low ankle-high boots, short trous and a sleeveless tunic of very lightweight materials clad his body with a small towel curled around his neck as he approaches the colorful umbrella stuck in the sand. Coming to a stop nearby, he drapes his towel over a boulder and leans against it to tug his low boots off as well. He peers at the body stretched out beneath the umbrella and chuckles as he notes the sand strewn across the young man's chest and the scuttling of the spiderclaw as it retreats at his appearance. With a mischevious grin, he runs the few steps required to jump into the surf near the other's legs, timing it so that the surf is incoming to make as big a splash as possible. That wave splashes up and over where the waves have been reaching to water the other young man's belly and possibly higher though probably just a few drops. By the time Ebben wakes up, Kul is just standing there gazing out at the waves coming into the shore … totally innocent.

Tweet can be seen absently flying around the shoreline near the umbrella - using it as an occasional perch from where he can spy crawly-things that need eating or shiney things that need investigation. As one of the 'bigfolk' decides to splash the other, thus sending the spider-crawler out onto the sand, the mischevious blue lowers its head and watches the critter carefully. Slowly positioning itself to jump into the air he waits. Oh the patience. Oh the tail-waggling. And then…wait…what's shiney over in the direction of Kultir? Yup - totally distracted.

Ebben splutters, yelps, and shoots upwards, hands swinging until they can come down in support as he startles into a sitting position. His back is rigid and his now completely wet swim trunks cling coldly to his legs which have bent at the knees protectively. He sees Kultir but his first instinct is to scoot backwards due to the incoming… wait. waitaminute. The tide hasn't changed much, the incoming waves barely big enough to cause the sort of inundation the sleeping candidate just experienced. Water-flecked eyelashes lower as eyes narrow towards the innocent bystander. "I appreciate that you're excitement can barely be contained upon seeing me, Kultir. But a gentle shake is a perfectly acceptable, one might say, civilized way to express yourself." Teeth bared in a let-me-get-my-heart-rate-down simper, Ebben brushes some of the now damp sand from his midriff with a little shiver. "Does feel good though, too muggy out here. Shall I return the favor?" He half-scoots upwards though plops right back down at the firelizard's tail twitch sends his umbrella rattling. "Hey, tell your lizard to stop messing with my shade."

Kultir barely keeps the snickers silent as he listens to the younger man startle awake and fights to keep a straight face when he finally turns to look at the Healer-turned-Candidate though his amber eyes sparkle with mischief. "Oh! Hi, Ebben. Didn't even see you there. Just finished my run and thought I'd cool off with a run." The corners of his lips twitch as he fights a smile at the other's words and finally can't hold it in any longer as he rumbles a laugh that starts deep in his chest. "Sorry, man … but when you're flat out like that … it was just too tempting." When Ebben complains of the lizard, his gaze flicks to the little blue and shakes his head. "Ain't mine. I got a green and a bronze. And they are currently visiting Brienne … so far as I know."

Tweet squawlks out a unmistakable 'TwEEeeeEET' rather than the usual trumpeting call of a typical Fire Lizard. The blue continues to dance around the round-cloth-thing that refuses to remain stable as tiny, needle-like claws gripping here and there when it shifts in the sand below. He jumps into the air and dives straight at Kultir's form, reaching out his azure wing-sails to their full width to catch him in mid-fall so as to pull himself out of the dive and into a soft glide meer inches over the water's surface. Banking sharply to the right a staff's length away from the hunter, the blue extends one clawed foot into the water and plucks a finger-lengthed, silvery fish and carries it back to 'HIS' perch a top the umbrella.

Ebben snorts, stretching his legs back out. "That's something I look for in all my friends, willingness to capitalize on my temporary vulnerability." Ebben startles again when the blue takes a dive right past Kultir and into the water. "Suppose he isn't yours then," he says with a shrug as he points towards the other side of the umbrella. "Sit? Might save you from claws-to-the-face."

Kultir chuckles softly as he's offered a seat in the sand near the other young man and settles down into the cool surf as it flows inward, not at all bothered by the dive-bombing blue. "No … but I think I recognize him. Probably Nevik's Tweet if that squawk of his is anything to go by." Leaning back against his hands, arms stiffened to hold him up, he stretches out in the shallow water and sighs with relief as the cool water washes over his overly warm body. "So how long have you been out here?"

Tweet happily munches on the fish that only gave a little bit of a wiggle in resistance to having its head bitten off in one large munch. The sound of fleshy bits happily being consumed while the blue is perched atop the umbrella are full of the crunches and slurps that one would imagine and are less than appealing. Once and after a few more dance-like steps around the umbrella's canopy, the blue decides that he's had enough scouting and decides to see what might be hiding out below. A hop, a flip, wings extend and he swooshes over the heads of the two men with a chirpy-warble of recognition. Circling the two, round and round, he eventually comes to rest in the sand to the right of Ebben. Tiny, blue feet pad their way through the soft sand as he drags his long blue tail behind, his wings clutched together over his shoulders much like a cloak. He looks like he's searching for something.

Ebben shrugs, peering out over the slowly rolling water. "Not sure, got most of the chores done early today so headed down here a few candlemarks ago? Probably been out for a quarter of that time." Sheepish smile punctuates that point. Well, sheepish, then thoroughly self-satisfied. During this statement bits of slippery guts and gunk begin falling in moist splats on top of his umbrella. The effect is thoroughly unpleasant and the smell is becoming more and more acrid… this may explain why Ebben's upturned eyebrow signifies a distinct distaste of the small avian as it wobbles through the sand. "Nevik's eh? Figures."

"Ah, Tweet's not so bad … once you get used to him trying to steal anything shiny you might have." Kultir grins as he watches the little blue, one hand coming forward to splash water up onto the ex-tracker's chest and over his shoulders. "Hmm, you got lucky to get done so soon. I've still got a couple indoor chores today … clearing tables for supper and dishes afterwards. Thought I'd get another run in since it was getting kinda stuffy in the Barracks." He shrugs slightly as if the odor of the Barracks is normal when you have that many people living together in the same place.

Tweet creens his neck up to examine Ebben, wings folded around him rather cloak-like with his tiny blue hands clutched together before his chest like a miserly old man or a mistrusted thief. You can almost see the gears working in his tiny brain as the blue hobble-walks on his hind feet over towards the Senior Apprentice's leg and pauses only a hand's width away. Paused there for a moment, he eventually reaches out to brush a claw-tipped hand against the bare flesh in much the same way a terran cat might 'remind' a human to pet it.

Ebben is now entirely creeped out. He looks over at Kultir once his leg has been 'brushed' with an expression that very clearly states his discomfort level. "I don't like it. See the way it clutches its claws like that? Unnatural." The prod for a pet goes unrewarded, merely causing Ebben to scoot away. "How can you run in this heat? Besides the obvious fact that you're more fit than all of us combined." He pauses to rephrase the question. "Why. Why do you run in this heat?"

Kultir laughs softly as he watches the little blue beg for scritches and shakes his head. "He's a weird little lizard, that's for sure. I've never seen one quite that … feline? Not to mention the obsession for shiny stuff. I've seen it in dragons but … I always thought that was a reflection of the rider." He shrugs slightly. "Maybe not." Listening to the other man's question and then the rephrasing causes a grin to broaden his smile with amusement, another shrug lifting his shoulders. "I'm not used to being so inactive so I have to do something to keep myself from going crazy being cooped up all the time. Once it gets closer to Hatching time, I'll probably end up running rounds of the upper and lower bowls just to keep from having to stay cooped up in the Barracks."

Tweet almost whimpers, if such a sound could come out of a fire lizard. Big, sad, soulful eyes look up at Ebben as if the only thing that would keep the creature alive another day was just a few scretches along its neck ridge. A few moments path and the blue sighs dejectedly. Oh, to be rejected…to die alone without scritches…he slowly walks away towards the water as though life had no meaning anymore and rather than continue he was going to just rejoin the sea. Pausing as the surf washes up to dampen the sand where it is poised, the blue glances back over its shoulder just once, sighs again, and… suddenly jumps into the air. A few, quick, powerful strokes of his wings and he's out over the water, banked to gain altitude and turns back towards shore and the Weyr. Ebben, however, might find that something shiney near his leg is now no longer present. In truth, the object Tweet took might not even have belonged to the healer; just a shiney bit of rock, or a shell half-burried in the sand near the man. Who knows.

Ebben watches the little blue with a creeping internal regret, which will be replaced with spite, when he later finds his piece of sea glass stolen. Kultir regains his attentions as the healer digs his toes into the quickly slipping sand just under the surf. "You run, I lay around waiting to get splashed and harassed, I suppose we all have our outlets." He smiles amicably at the other candidate as he slides down to his elbows, squinting against the reflecting waves.

Kultir grins at the younger man and relaxes back onto his elbows down that the surf has eroded a nice place for him to lean his back against and nods. "Yup, pretty much it. But I've never pursued a Craft either since even being a Herder requires some time stuck inside and I just can't do that too much." He sighs softly as memories he chooses not to share come to mind before he shoves those memories away again. "I'll laze around too, just most of my day is always active and down-time comes after dark. That's when I relax."

Ebben nods, swerving his neck slightly to look askance at his mate. "So, Kultir, I'd consider you a fairly likable fellow, at least for my tastes. What say we get past the incredibly tedious 'get-to-know-you' jabber and get to the good stuff?" Because, as dudes who get along, they don't need to layer on the icing of idle chit chat. "Why a hunter? Where'd you learn? How many ladies you bed before candidacy? Do you have a sister? Is she hot? Any deep, dark secrets I can take to the grave with me on your behest?" His grin suggests most of this is a joke, but if the hunter's feeling verbose, what the hell, right?

Kultir peers sideways at the younger man, the smile remaining but a mildly inquisitive expression flickering across his features. Determining that the younger man is mostly joking, he chuckles softly and draws a deep breath to sigh out softly. "I grew up a Herder kid … my old man kicked me out before I was twelve. Even though we were a Herding cothold, my brothers and I all learned to hunt early on, Da figured it'd be good training for hand-eye coordination to use a sling and bow." He considers the other questions and wonders how to answer. "I have several sisters, all but my youngest are handfasted and Sophie is only … twelve now. I've been pretty steady with Kalea for nearly two Turns now and we have a set of twins fostered to the nannies in the Weyr nursery. Deep dark secrets? Probably not right now." His amber eyes sparkle mischief at the ex-Healer before he falls silent again, watching the younger man consideringly. "What about you?"

Well, fair's fair. "Grew up in a healer household. My old man is a Master Healer at Gar Hold and all I have is sisters. The two oldest, and a fair bit older than me, have gone off and handfasted into agreeable positions in and around the minor inlets of Gar. My twin followed the family line and she's a healer back in Gar as well, though she's behind me. And of course she's hot, she's my twin, so, yeah." Cue grin though a moment latter annoyance turns down his lips, "she's only behind me because she's a girl. Everyone knows it. She's twice the healer I am when it comes to trauma response. My gift is with plants and teaching, both of which are not exactly the sort of gifts you want to take with you on a reconnaissance," he says by way of the hunter with a wan smile. "As for the ladies, well, can't say I've ever had a taste." Yep. Forthright. He's not ashamed. "Been an apprentice as far back as I can remember and now a candidate. I'm a stickler for the rules, what can I say?" A slow grin creeps along his features. "But if I were to bed someone, there's a certain bar owner I've had a crush on since I got here. And not to boast, but I'm fairly certain she's interested. Even if she is older." This admission breaks his grin wide as glances nonchalantly at Kultir.

Kultir chuckles softly as the younger man recounts his own family, sisters and admits to having a crush, his gaze turning a bit salacious as if he wants more details on this. "Well, stickler for rules is okay … especially since we have a lot of them. And if you've not had sex and you got Searched … well, it's one less thing to miss." Glancing back out to the waves coming in, he tilts his head as he considers the admission again. "Hmm, a bar owner? Not a bartender, eh? Yeah, I suppose Sevreni is rather good looking. And since she's a bar owner, you got the best of both worlds … booze and sex."

Ebben grins slyly. "I have a feeling it will be a very… rapid experience once I've been released from expectation." That's almost enough to wish for one of those eggs to hatch out his dragon. Ebben isn't exactly keen on the danger-filled life of riders, but booze and sex are awfully strong incentives to not wait on a timely table walk. "She's been saving a bottle of booze for me." He stretches in a self-satisfied way, fingers skipping along the shimmering flecks of sand. "And are you kidding? That woman is gorgeous." At least to him, and he'll be damned if he doesn't defend his future conques…lover.

A low rumbling sound issues from Kultir's chest at that sly grin as the ex-tracker shakes his head in amusement. "Oh, believe me, it will be. It was for me … way back when. Never having been an apprentice and pretty much on my own, I fumbled through a few experiments before I got here." His eyes sparkle as he implies that the greenrider he'd taken up with is responsible for that rapid experience. He holds a hand up and waves off the defense of the bar owner. "Hey, I said she was good looking, didn't I? It's all I can say since I'm … kinda taken." He would never admit it out loud that he's been rather attracted to the woman himself, ever since he'd first met her.

Ebben seems satisfied with Kultir's response, though he's not done walking this conversational road. "It seems like it's fairly intuitive, but, I mean, I gotta think Sevrini has a fair amount of experience, right? I mean she's pretty, she runs a bar… I'm hoping I'm either a natural talent or she finds inexperience 'cute'." He grimaces at the options presented. There's a pregnant pause (pun intended!) after that as he silently implores the hunter for some potential tips.

Kultir snorts at the younger man's comment and stifles outright laughter. "Well … it can be intuitive … I guess." He swallows and glances sideways at the ex-Healer, amusement lighting his eyes and chagrin coloring his cheeks. "You're gonna know what feels good to you but … she ain't gonna be quite as easy to read. Make sure you read her expressions, if it looks good then you're fine, if it looks like she's uncomfortable … you're doing something wrong and if she looks like she's confused … well, you're doing something really wrong." He turns his gaze out to the waves once more, gnawing at his lower lip as he suppresses the desire to snicker since he's never expected to have to have this conversation with anyone besides Rikus … and that not for several more Turns yet.

Ebben looks less calm after the explanation. "Mmf," is his witty reply as he ticks through the various points. Expressions good, confusion bad, intuitive maybe. A big wave begins rolling towards the pair, though Ebben is currently subsumed in thought as the surf begins to pull back in the mounting momentum.

Kultir chuckles softly at the younger man and shrugs. "Seriously, listen to her … ask what she likes. It's the only way you learn what a woman likes." The young tracker's tone is perfectly serious despite the amusement dancing in his eyes. "Or you could just let her take control the first time so that she does what she likes and you just watch and learn. That's just as pleasant … and pleasurable." He turns and winks at the Healer, his grin widening.

Ebben is about to respond to that when SPLASH both candidates go ass over teakettle along with their umbrella. Once they struggle out of the wet sand and surf they glance at each other, Ebben grabs his sodden umbrella and they wordlessly head up the beach. Clearly the universe is trying to cool off their conversation. They will take the hint.

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