Kultir, Rhydian, Yules


Moongazing, beer and talk of bitchfire on a clear Southern night.


It is evening of the thirteenth day of the ninth month of the first turn of the 12th pass.


Southern Weyr Beach

OOC Date


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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.

Timor: moon1.jpgBelior: moon1.jpg

It's the typical Southern Spring evening. Humid, warm, and scented with … jungle smells, that carry on the breeze. This of course brings many lovers to the beac, strolling along on a quiet evening. Except for Yules, who is sitting on the sand, staring out over the water that laps. How exciting. She's got a few beers and a small picnic-cloth's worth of berry fruits and cheeses next to her and occasionally a hand dips down from her outstretched legs to pick one up and pop it in her mouth.

There may be more exciting things to draw folks to the beach - making out being one of them, apparently - but for Rhydian, it's what's going on up in the skies that has him padding the beach barefooted this evening. With his eyes more up at the twin full moons than they are down on the ground, he very nearly ends up stepping on Yules and her dinner, stopped at the last moment by a warning chirrup from the brown firelizard on his shoulder. The Starcrafter pauses, blinks, looks down at the rider and her meal, and grins with awkward apology. "I, ah, didn't see you there. Nearly - haha - nearly stepped on you!"

If people are making out, Yules… probably wouldn't notice unless they blocked the view. She's so concentrated on What's Out There that she doesn't notice poor Rhydian until his firelizard gives him warning. Even then, she stares at him for a full, uncomfortable moment before replying without any heat in her tone, "Yes, you nearly did." It seems this is okay? "You were looking at the moons, and didn't see me." There's a pause and then Yules waves a hand to the space on the other side of her dining experience. "Have a seat." A pause again, "If you like to. I have beer." And who doesn't sit for that?

"The moons. Yeah." Rhydian seems pleasantly surprised that Yules noticed where he was looking, and her offer is certainly good enough to get him to sit. Pique clings to his shoulder, stablising himself with his wings spread as the Starcrafter plonks himself down, resting back on his hands with his legs stretched before him so he can keep up with his celestial observation. "Are you, ah, out here for the moons, too?"

"They're pretty to look at, tonight," Yules announces, "The moons, I mean." You never know, out here. One hand grasps a bottle of beer by the neck and hands it over to the young man with a brisk, "Here," while Yules looks around. "I'm out here," the woman begins, "To sit alone for a while." So, mission failed, right? "Well. And quietly eat some foods and look out for falling people." Yules somehow makes this sound like an honourable duty that she must discharge, except that she finishes with, "I just didn't expect to find anyone."

Rhydian accepts with beer with a wink of thanks, pressing the neck to his lips to chug a good few seconds' worth before lowering it again. "It's a good place for, ah, being alone. Or for being with someone." There's a couple not too far down the beach from them who've turned their evening lover's stroll into something far more intimate in the sand, and Rhydian cants his head towards them with a smirk. "I, uh, think they think we can't see them." He make an amused sound, chugging another mouthful of beer. "It's, er, Yules, right?"

Yules nods solemnly, watching Rhydian drink his beer, and picks up a bit of fruit. Just before it enters her mouth, Yules pauses, and looks over, "Oh, that pair. I've seen them about - Kitchen staff, I think," and there's something a bit grinding in her tone, but nonetheless. Oh yeah! Introductions: "Oh. Yes, I'm Yules, of brown Desmeth's. You're the Starcrafter? Did I hear," and here, Yules' tone goes puzzled in trying to remember, "you got coughed on by a dragon? Sneezed on?" Whatever the kids are calling it these days.

"So long as they're, um, getting their smooch on on the beach, and not on the benches…" The Starcrafter winces at the thought of who-knows-what getting in the food if there's a couple of kitchen workers at it like they are. When Yules has apparently heard of him, he looks at her with his nose wrinkled. "Uh.. yeah. Rhydian. Starcraft, right. And, ah… yeah. Yeah. Some green ruined my apparatus," exaggeration! "and then sneezed on me, too. I lost an afternoon's measurements, because of it."

Looking only somewhat scandalized by the words 'getting their smooch on', Yules finally does eat that fruit, chewing aggressively. Still, she replies politely enough, "Well met, Rhydian of Starcraft. And don't worry about being remembered - dragons are worse gossips than kitchen staff," of course the kitchen staff will never agree with that, "and have memories about the length of a trundlebug's." A long sip of beer from her bottle clears Yules' throat to ask, "Were you able to remeasure… whatever you were measuring, after?"

Rhydian shakes his head. "Ah, no - no, not possible to. I was measuring the rainfall that afternoon. It, uh, won't ever happen again to be able to measure it again." He shrugs away his frown of annoyance, then takes a swig of beer. "So, ah, dragons don't have long memories, huh? I didn't know that. Do they, ah, meet everyone anew, every time they see them?"

Kultir strolls down the beach from the Weyr, a half-limp skin of something swinging from his hand as he walks. Once in a while, that skin is lifted to his lips as he takes a long swig of whatever liquid it contains. The young folks sitting, mostly in pairs, causes him to smile slightly as he moves further down the stretch of sand. As he walks, he notices a pair of people he actually knows and finds his feet moving in that direction. "Evening, Yules … Rhydian." His steps pause within speaking distance but the young tracker remains standing so as not to intrude on their chat should they wish privacy.

Yules ahhs and looks out from her seat on the beach again. More beer and then Yules asks, sounding slightly suspicious: "You'll never be able to measure the rain again? But it falls all winter." AHAH! The hole in Rhydian's story, but Yules is too busy onto her next subject, one she knows much better than measuring rain: "No, they remember people they meet frequently enough. And their riders remember for them too." There's a brief snort and she adds, "And as much as we're bonded to them, sometimes I don't mind them forgetting things."

"It falls all winter, yes, but it'll only, uh, fall on that afternoon once, ever. That time won't come back." Then Rhydian squints, struck by a thought; "Well. It could come back, I suppose, but it's not worth taking - making? - time to do it." He's distracted there by Kultir's approach, and raises his beer to greet the hunter. "Hey. Evening drink?" A nod is given to the skin.

Kultir chuckles as he is waved over and greeted by the two. "Thank you, both. The hunt goes fairly well … when I can get one scheduled, at least." His amber eyes are a little regretful though they sparkle with amusement too. Glancing at the skin, he shrugs with a wry grin at the Starcrafter. "I didn't feel like braving the crowd at the tavern so I just swiped a skin from the caverns. How are you two?" His gaze goes from the man to the brownrider and back again.

The idea that rain chooses not to come back on that day evidently blows Yules' mind because se's quiet for a moment, but there's a reason she can A) fight Thread and B) make klah - she turns away from this confusion resolutely to look Kultir as the man comes closer: "Good good. And yes, it's getting a bit confusing in there. I heard something about them wanting to put in a pole?" So perplexing! Yules shakes her head, "I don't know what they'd ever do with a pole, unless they're afraid the ceiling's falling in…" It's easier to talk about familiar subjects: "I'm fine, thank you. Enjoying a quiet night with the moons, and… well, everyone else here."

"The Kitten has bitchfire. It's dangerous." Rhydian speaks with the understanding of one who knows. The fact that he doesn't remember Kultir being there that night speaks volumes. He brushes the sand off his palm by rubbing his hand on his thigh, then sweeps it back through the loose mess of curls atop his head, mussing them up further. "A pole is something new. Will they, uh, have girls on it?" Because he's heard of such things before, as the smirk he can't quite hide proves. "Hey, uh, Kully? You picked up any more skins lately?"

Kultir chuckles softly at Rhydian's comment on the Kitten's bitchfire and shakes his head slightly in amusement. "Definitely should stay away from that stuff. You drink too much of that stuff and you might just go from up and around to slumped and drooling in the Nighthearth if you aren't careful." The suggestion that the tavern's roof might be falling in makes him frown as he tries to recall what it looked like when he was there last. "A … pole? What in Faranth's name do they need a pole for?" He shakes his head in bemusement and resolves to ask Sevreni next time he's in the tavern. Glancing up at the moon, he nods slightly before smiling at Yules. "Glad to hear it. Hope Desmeth is well also." The young tracker looks toward the Starcrafter at the question and blinks for a moment. "Hmm? Skins? Oh, yeah … several. What kind are you looking for?"

"The pole is for the girls?" Yules asked, totally mystified, "Will it make them bring my drinks any faster?" Clearly Rhydian knows things, so her question is directly to him but Kultir says the one thing that can drag her away: "Yes, thank you. Desmeth is well. With the Weyrleader down, it's been… busy, but we're okay. And Kalea and Ryadranth?" Typical for Yules to add as a quick afterthought, "And your twins, right? There are two of them?"

Kultir says something that sounds all too familiar to Rhydian, and he eyes the man curiously. "Were we… were, uh, you there, that night?" Because bitchfire completely killed his memory of the evening's events, but he certainly remembers waking up dead in the nighthearth. "Poles? You don't know what they do with poles?!" Despite the blush on his cheeks, Rhydian grins in amusement at Kultir, then at Yules. "Remind me to take you to Ista sometime. It doesn't involve girls bringing drinks, not at all."

An eyebrow rises at the suggestion it is for girls though Kultir is still baffled by the idea. "Kalea and Rya are well, the twins are great … growing like weeds and safely tucked away with the nannies since Lea and I are so busy." His smile as he speaks of his small family is warm though Rhydian's words draws his attention. Nodding with a wry grin to the man's question. "Who do you think poured you into the chair in the Nighthearth after you passed out at the Kitten? You still owe me for that, man … it was pouring buckets that night." His eyes shine with mirth as he teases the Starcrafter before lifting the skin of liquor for another long swig.

Yules grouses, "I've been to Ista before…" Maybe not that Ista, then, so Yules gives Rhydian a slightly suspicious look, then to Kultir, a nod of what might be approval. Still, the conversation between Starcrafter and Hunter is fascinating in itself so Yules listens in, occasionally sipping from her beer. This lasts a little until Yules goes slightly cross-eyed, then back to awareness with the question, "Was that the same night a dragon sneezed on you?"

"Oh, Faranth - really?" Rhydian looks truly embarrassed when he's fed that little nugget from Kultir, and he winces apologetically at the man. "Uh… shit. I had no clue. Sorry." He upends his beer once more, licking his lips when he's swallowed what's left in the bottle. To Yules, he shakes his head. "I don't, uh… don't think so. The dragon was during the, er, day, anyway. Afternoon. Rukbat was up… and I, ah, remember it." Which is more than can be said for the rest of the evening in question. The Starcrafter clears his throat, then stands up, dusting the sand off his shorts. "I, er… I've gotta go, um…" He's still blushing, so he's probably beating a hasty escape out of embarrassment. "Thanks for the beer, Yules. And, er, Kultir? I'll, um, find you to talk skins, ok?" He tucks the empty beer bottle into his pocket, then bids the duo a quick farewell before beating it across the sand, away from them… probably headed where there's no bitchfire.

Kultir can't help but laugh softly as Rhydian makes his embarrassed retreat and nods at the offer to talk skins another time. "Poor guy. He was sauced that night. Couldn't just leave him lay, could I?" He shrugs slightly as he turns to look out at the water with a soft sigh. Drawing his legs beneath him, the tracker stands easily from that crosslegged position and smiles down at the brownrider. "Well, I suppose I should be getting home. Rya will be coming to look for me if I'm not where she expects when she expects it." He shrugs at the green's persistance in knowing where a human not her rider is located.

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