D'wane, Talya


Talya finds where D'wane ended up after the goldflight and provides some (unasked for) company during some downtime.


It is afternoon of the twenty-fifth day of the eleventh month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.



OOC Date 06 May 2018 07:00


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In dark morn and dusky eve fog lies grim and humid against the still waters of Azov Sea. Only the noontime sun burns away the concealing clouds of man's height, revealing that which lies beneath the mist- an awe-inspiring stone pier that stretches far into the inland sea, to the east of the line of orderly boat-slips for the locals and larger, open spaces for transport ships. Fishermen are often as common as seagulls upon the pier's length in particular, ill-concealed and ill-clothed in the loose dun homespun of Southern's natives.

Does anything really need to be said about the events of the morning? The normally reserved Rhiscorath practically shouted the news from the morning. Southern's officially got a new (ish) weyrleader pair! And well, the rest of those riders have sinced disperse to find their own coping mechanisms. D'wane snagged a couple skins of wine and a bottle of rum and has been camped on the beach, but after a couple hours of beach lounging, he has since migrated onto the docks. The seacrafters are cautiously trying to work around that particular section that the large man is laying on, using a coil of rope as a pillow.

Talya was unfortunately unable to get anywhere to hide for the goldflight, having Guard duty to deal with during the morning. It was definitely an interesting PT session to deal with all the emotions, but now at least she's gotten some time off to shake off the feelings. Her hair is dripping wet, soaked through from a dip in the ocean, and yet already fully clothed again as she meaders the docks. The short woman is stalking for something, eyeballing those working who are unhauling cargo or getting cargo onto a ship. There's a murmur as someone seems to be complaining about obstacles, which just perks her attention. Which is how she finds herself finding D'wane, putting her hands on her hips as she stares down at the man. "That really doesn't look comfortable," she observes loudly.

D'wane is probably the exact opposite of Talya in a lot of ways. In particular, the fact that he's seemed to have lost most of his clothing. Luckily, while his shoes and shirt are nowhere to be seen, he does still have on a pair of shorts. The arm that was flung across his eyes is lifted just enough to glance over at whoever was dare enough to approach. Since it's a familiar enough face, he just grunts and waves with the other arm and half-full bottle of rum. "Get your own if your thinking of trying it." He's not planning on relinquishing his claim on this rope pile anytime soon.

Talya has probably had a long morning of indecent exposures and other amped up people around the Weyr after the flight, not that it bothers this Holdbred girl much. It would have been amusing if she wasn't all riled up herself. "Why would I punish myself with scratchy rope digging at my neck? Bet it's going to be itchy for days." Her booted foot toes the coiled rope… then cautiously at the Weyrsecond. "The seacrafters may need it soon though. And they're getting grumpy I think." Off duty and yet trying to help out? She glances over her shoulder at said seacrafters, who certainly are still working just fine without the rope for now. She glares at them, because she can.

"They got more rope." D'wane gives a half-hearted shrug as he shifts from laying on his back to on his side. Added bonus: the sun is now behind him instead of right in his eyes. He has very little sympathy for the seacrafters at the moment, although he does have some more justification, "'Sides… that's why I'm atta end of the dock. Outta the way." And as itchy as the rough rope might be, he seems to be mighty snuggly with it at the moment.

"What if they need /this/ rope specifically? What if it's the exact length of rope that is needed?" Talya is going to be difficult today. She eyes the man's half bottle of rum too, waving a hand at it. "And having that around here is like torture for them when they're working. Trust me, I know." She does seem to be eyeing that rope as if she is envious of the man of having it as a pillow. She crosses her arms across her chest now, huffing down at the big man. "Most people are coping indoors and with people and not baking in the sun out here. Though I can't blame you, people are a hassle to deal with today."

D'wane raises an eyebrow at Talya, along with a barely half opened eye just so he can really, truly judge how much she's trying to pull his leg. "Have you seen their complex. Ropes everywhere." He waves back to the massive stone structure used to shelter ships from threadfall, and also store pretty much everything else the seacrafters could need when not actively in use. He then takes another swig of his rum before crossing his own arms. SOMEONE is gonna be super hungover tomorrow which will make for lots of fun meetings. "People suck."

Talya gives the complex a glance and then turns back to D'wane and his snuggly pile of rope. "But they have to go all the way over /there/. When there's this pile right here, only at the end of the dock. That rope, right there, they may need it right now." Her eyes stare at the swig of rum and her mouth even does a little smack, as if imagining taking a swig herself. She uncrosses her arms and throws her hands up in the air in mock surrender. "They do suck, so you know what, can't make life easier for them. Especially grumpy seacrafters." She shuffles a few steps to the edge of the dock so she can flop down unceremoniously on the edge, kicking her legs out with a huff. Whether D'wane wants it or not, Talya is going to join him.

That's a sentiment that D'wane is willing to raise his purloined bottle of rum to as his foot dangles of the edge of the peer. One of the perils of being so large and trying to nap in a place not designed for it. But even if he doesn't really give a crap about the seacrafters and their possible needs of rope, it's like he can sense the desire for rum and waggles the bottle in the former bartender's direction. "Want some?" At least she doesn't suck enough that he'll object to the company.

It's like Talya was waiting for those exact words, leaning over and nabbing that bottle out of the man's hand before he can reconsider. Hers now. She lifts the bottle to her lips and lets a generous swig burn its way down. There's a pleased sigh at that. "Thought I'd have to wait til after the evening shift, but if the Weyrsecond offers me some I ain't going to object." Work? What work? She's probably not setting a good example as a guard recruit. She shakes the remainder of the bottle and looks back over to the man. "Sleeping, end of the dock, completely inebriated maybe. How would you defend against yourself in /this/ scenario if someone had ill intentions?" She shakes the bottle at him now, as if to make a point of how much /he/ drank. But she's not giving it back just yet.

"Keep the bottle 'n you might just find out…" D'wane have growls when that hand that was closest to Talya doesn't seem to be getting the bottle back, even though it's waiting there in mid air all expectantly. "'Sides… Rock's lurking in the water somewhere. Plenty of space for a dragon to get in." Although as big as that bronze is, he may or may not nudge a ship or two on his way in. But if his rider was being attacked, totally justifable. "Or… I could just roll us both into the water and hope I have large lungs than you."

Talya is going to tempt fate by holding onto the bottle a little longer, taking another swig of the rum as she locks eyes with the bronzerider. Mmm. "Are you even in any shape to do anything about it?" She seems to consider her options, then gives a stern nod. "True, I always have to consider the dragon half. So it has to be closed quarters." Finally she decides to relinquish the bottle, smirking as she holds it out to him, maybe a little out of his reach that he has to lift up off that pile of rope just a little to reach it. "Water will help me get away easier, like trying to hold onto a greased up porcine. You'd just sink to the bottom of the ocean." But she crosses off that idea from her mental list. "I'll just have to keep working at it." She can't just go up to her superiors and ask them how to knock out the Weyrsecond successfully, they kind of find that stuff suspicious after all.

"You willing to try me?" D'wane may not have been up to much trash talking during the actual fight, but he's willing to manage a 'come at me, bro!' stance while still laying down. It's really an art that has to do mostly with chest puffing and the inebriation probably helps with that. Talya may also have underestimated just how much the bronzerider didn't want to move (as the world gets kinda spinny when he moves) and so he reaches… barely misses and then reaches again. His head certainly shifts, but doesn't quite leave contact with the rope pile in order to reclaim his bottle. He stole it fair and square from the council room to begin with. "Yeah, but good luck avoiding all the curious shipfish which will buy time for Rock to get over." And thus prevent both his drowning and her brilliant escape. D'wane at least thinks it's as foolproof as any drunken plan might be.

"I thought that was the whole point of my assignment?" Talya asks the big man, doing her best not to laugh at him and his display. "Maybe I am now. I came looking for a fight with a dock worker, some guy saying I owe him marks and spreading lies about me." Or maybe just trying to find someone to rile up that she could actually win against, unlike the Weyrsecond. She knows better than to get into a losing battle, though the man's current condition might make an equal fight out of it. She /does/ laugh when he actually gets the bottle without ever leaving the rope. "You and that rope have a special connection, don'tcha?" She leans back on the docks, allowing the warmth of the rum to do its job and soaking in some sun to dry out her hair. "Maybe the shipfish will like me and rescue me, by allowing me to ride them off into the setting sun and too fast for your bronze to catch up. I'll be in Ista by the time they find you."

D'wane may have totally forgotten about the assignment, which is probably understandable given the say he's had. And the rum he's had. At least he's not crying 'why's all the rum gone???' yet. "Fighting a dock worker on the docks sounds like a poor plan. They know where all the loose boards might be and some buddies might want to step in." He gives a bit of a nod and winces as sudden movements probably weren't the right choice. "Leave my rope outta this!" This was not in any of the fortunes Mayte had been seeing, but maybe it should have been. "Good luck in Ista. Plus, shipfish ain't never gonna be as fast as a dragon." At least over long distance. If they were just sticking to swimming, sure. But can't beat teleportation for speed.

Talya grunts in annoyance at the bronzerider. /She/ was supposed to be the difficult one after all. "You're too logical," she huffs in complaint. "Who doesn't like watching a good fight? They'd sooner encourage it than break it up." At least that is what Talya would do if she suddenly had a fight break out by her. "It'd just be some shouting, maybe a punch or two thrown in. If I find out who it is." She turns back to the man and gives the rope a look, then him. "I've seen better rope at Black Rock's docks." Yeah, she went there. She shifts herself over about an inch, self preservation and all when it comes to insulting the man's rope. "I bet they are faster in the water, at least. Has your dragon ever raced a shipfish to find out? And I will just have to make a new life there, change my name and all."

And it's probably a good thing D'wane's in no shape to be making notes about all the reasons coming out of this conversation of why Talya might not make the best guard. But the only thing he's going to be remembering is his head and his stomach in the morning. He didn't even get to finish his poor sandwich before it became a casualty of the flight! "How many men do you owe money to that you don't know which one he is?" He lets out a snort at the mention of weyrleadership's FAVORITIST HOLD EVER. "Like they even have docks anymore." And he totally went there. "There's not really been a need to. You know, they got a whole racing stadium in the water in Ista?" Important facts for when she starts her new life.

It is true that there were many qualities that made Talya a bad Guard as well as an.. well, okay Guard. She probably realizes that the man was in no shape to go and tell the Guards about what he's learned, now or later. She's eyeballing that bottle again now that he's had it for a good bit of time. "I don't owe /anyone/ marks and if they say that I do they're lying and deserve their teeth punched in. If anything they owe /me/ marks. Do I look like someone who gambles?" Then again, she could have conned them out of something and they want their marks back in return. Who knows? She gives D'wane a mock gasp at the mention of Black Rock's docks. "They'll rebuild them and they'll have plenty of nice rope again someday. I mean, not that I'd ever see them again," she adds, unable to hold that back. She doesn't like her home Hold that much. "Oh yeah, I remember those. I may have been /really/ drunk when I saw a shipfish race. Do the dragons race too?" Now that she doesn't remember.

D'wane has seemed to have forgotten that he was sharing. The bottle's just kinda chilling out by his side for the moment with his hand only loosely around it so it doesn't like, roll away or something crazy. "You said you owed somebody. Punching your own teeth in sounds painful." He's only have keeping up with this conversation anyways, but that was close enough to what she said, right? "Never say you won't seem 'em again. Flight happened. Eggs'll happen. Could be your dragon hatches 'n ya end up a watchrider at Black Rock." And then there are sooooo many leaps being made for someone not willing to stand up or even sit up. As for dragon races, he shrugs. "Yeah? Some just for funs. Back in 'Reaches, every couple turns we'd have weyr wide competition. Races. Mock Falls. This whole thing where ya wing competes to try and get this sack through a hoopy another wing is guarding." It's like quidditch, but with firestone sacks! Maybe.

"It's all lies, I tell you," Talya should really stop trying to defend herself against a drunken Weyrsecond. "And I was going to—ah just forget it. I'm here instead, keeping you company." For rum. Her eyes do notice that the man isn't really drinking it nor sharing it, but she wasn't about to swipe it just yet. "Alright, fine, say that happens. Not that I have decided yet if I want to Stand again, at least I won't be /working/ the docks at Black Rock. I just have to stare at it. Maybe I'll bring back some finer rope for you to lay down on after flights and cuddle." She'll maybe even make it into a human-like shape. "That actually sounds like a lot of fun. Why'd you leave that behind?" Assuming the big Weyrsecond is from High Reaches Weyr now. She then decides to lean over and finally tries to swipe for the bottle, because if he's not drinking out of it she may as well be!

"Uhhh-huh." D'wane sounds utterly and totally not convinced about the lady that doth protest too much. "Watchriding sucks." Just like people! There's a trend here. "There's a reason only the old or injured get assigned it regularly. Will bore you out of your sharding mind…" There's a bit of a snort at the mention of cuddling with rope, nevermind how attached he is to his current impromptu pillow. "Got volun-told to come down to Southern for a bit to trade some search and rescue techniques… then K'vvan needed a wingsecond. And then Va'os needed a weyrsecond." And he shrugs. "At some point, going back just never seemed like a thing."

Talya makes a face at the idea of being injured /and/ having to suffer through staring at Black Rock all day. "Okay, that does sound really lame. Do watchriders have to stay there /all/ the time? Live there too? Just stare?" Because now she just feels bad for those watchriders. Hopefully she managed to snag that bottle without too much of a fuss, because she wants a drink now. Forget about needing to get back to work eventually. "Do you miss it?" she asks sincerely about High Reaches. "I guess they don't miss you that much there if you aren't being told to return. Plus, you'd be missed here." And who was she going to test out her skills on, once she figures out the problem? That rum? It's definitely gone now. She then settles the bottle back where she found it, by the bronzerider. Hoping he didn't notice it.

D'wane is just going to continue to shrug. "Well.. they do live there. If a hold's big enough for a watchrider, it's gonna have a weyr for them. But they get like… rest days and stuff." He should probably know more about the scheduling of watchriders, but that is work stuff and requires thinking and the weyrsecond's brain is clearly not up to that at the moment. He didn't notice the rum bottle's disappearance but when he goes to take his next drink and finds it empty, then he does lurch up. Forget questions about Reaches, he's got more important things. "Huh… guess I should probably go find some water now. And food." Cause drinking a whole bottle of rum on an empty stomach isn't going to end well.

"I guess it could be worse," Talya remarks about watchriders, in a tone that says she thinks it /is/ worse. Everything sucks about this poor position for the old and injured riders. Something to consider too, should she ever be asked to Stand again. Her eyes go wide in surprise when he suddenly lurches up. "Out of rum?" Now how did that happen? She shakes her head at him and even gives a tsk sound with her mouth. "Just drowned it all down. That probably sounds like a good idea for you. I got myself the rest of my shirt today to deal with…" She hops up from the edge of the dock, shaking out her (now mostly dry) hair behind her. "Good luck with dealing with people the rest of the day. Everything sucks, but hopefully it ain't that bad." She's going to walk away back down the docks before he gets some more mental capabilities back, muttering something about hoping she is not late. She might end up cleaning the brig out all alone after this. With a small brush.

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