Ibrahim, Alyna


While doing some fishing on the beach Ibrahim lands himself a very curious Alyna

Mild sexual overtones and innuendo


It is afternoon of the fourth day of the ninth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Beach, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 10 Apr 2018 04:00


ibrahim_default.jpg alyna_default.jpg

…eyeing his fishing pole, "Anything biting?"



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.

It is the fourth day of Spring and 87 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day.

A late afternoon's freedom has been granted Ibrahim in the wake of finding Laeiva; everyone associated with that harrowing day probably deserves some time to destress after the strain of helping to recover the woman. The wildling man will put into use his oldest, most treasured hobby, glad for some downtime away from the hustle and bustle of the Weyr and all its myriad duties: fishing. Although he's probably not going to catch much of anything, standing thigh-high in the water, it's more of a way to clear the mind and ground the soul than actually catch anything. There's also the remote possibility that he can collect some clams and whatnot for his own small dinner.

The sun! Finally Alyna has finished her duties for the day and is walking along the boardwalk sporting a breezy halter dress over top of a two piece swimming suit. Sandals protect her feet from the hot sand as she has a towel flung over one shoulder, as the petite woman wanders towards the water's edge. At a safe distance, she will spread out her towel before slipping her dress over her head, revealing the pale blue bikini underneath that leaves next to nothing to the imagination. Her ivory skin is mostly flawless if still a little pale from the winter months, but she plans to rectify that. After a quick dip that is. Wading into the shallow water, her ice blue eyes land on that man she had seen during the search for Laeiva, she remembers that wild hair of his, long and corded, it facinated her briefly before her attentions were pulled away for more important matters. But now those are concluded, so she wanders along the waters edge, kicking up spray with each step as she wanders towards him, "Hello there." she calls when she's within range.

Oh, yes, there are people here; people tempted out by the sun, hungry for some time beneath a sky not clouded by threatening rains to come; hungry for some warmth and fun. Various children, too, are at play, dashing in and out of the waves and shrieking merrily. Funny how Ibrahim has managed to block all that out; so deeply involved is he in the pattern of the waves and the soothing feeling of warm sun on his bare torso that he actually jumps when Alyna's voice breaks into his reverie before turning to face her with squinted eyes, prepared for it to be some kind of freedom-ending emergency, and is relieved to find it's only a woman out to enjoy some free time, if her bikini (a very nice bikini, if he does so note) is any indication. "Hello to you, too." He responds, a mildly amused smirk crossing his sand-brown features.

Alyna tilts her head in his direction, her pale blonde hair cascading in tichk waves almost to her shoulder, absently she reaches up to tuck it back behing one ear. "You don't recognize me do you?" She wonders with a playful tone to her voice as she wades closer to him, shielding her eyes with one hand as she rests the other on her hip. "I don't blame you if you don't, I'm out of uniform as it were." she says with a playful tease. "Alyna, green Haquith's. I was there when Laeiva was found." she elaborates as she sidles up next to him, eyeing his fishing pole, "Anything biting?"

Ibrahim certainy hadn't, all things considered! He'd been rather distracted at the time, between the excited fifteen turn old with her inappropriate — if funny — humor and the strangeness of trying to retrieve a woman with an old bone wrapped in blankets that she insists is a child. But now she's jogged his memory, he'll nod his recognition. "You were the one who thought of a Healer; yes, I remember you." And then he smirks at her, the joke much too tempting to resist: "Well, you're here, so I suppose so…" And then he winks at her. He sees what she's eyeing, there, and the very idea is giving him a case of the crude humor of teenage boys, though he's long past such things — or should be.

His words will cause her to groan considerably before shaking her head with a wry chuckle. "I walked right into that one didn't I?" Alyna says with good humour as she gives him a covert once over, well as covert as one can while sweeping their gaze slowly up and down the form of another person, but this greenrider manages without being too obvious. Deciding to get in on the playful banter after she sees that wink he throws her way, she drifts closer to him. "So do you have a name, or am I going to have to refer to you as Mister Pole?"

"You kind of did." Ibrahim laughs, letting the end of the pole — the object of so, so many puns — dig a little trench in the sand buried under the clear blue water. Her once-over is met with calm equanimity, a certain pride creeping into his innermost self; he knows how nicely built he is; one can't be anything other, when one is an active youth by most standards. Instead, he'll eye her in turn, appreciative of her fine form. Why not? He's a free man, these days! "Ibrahim — Infirmary assistant, herb-gatherer, sometimes hunter and tracker. You know, the usual."

Even into her early thirties, Alyna takes care of herself, and her ego is stroked quite effectively when the younger man takes his eye full. Yeah, I still got it. She thinks smugly to herself before she chuckles at his last when he finally gives his name, "The usual for who exactly? I don't often hear of Healers who are hunters and trackers." she wonders, jumping to a few conclusions along the way, as she leans forward and offers him her hand, "Well met Ibrahim."

"That's because I'm not one of your craft-bred softies, used to being coddled and cosseted." Ibrahim retorts with amusement, shrugging; if she hasn't guessed by now he's a wildling, he'll enlighten her soon enough. The hair alone might be a hint — but then again, perhaps not. Few of the many groups cultivate the untamed hair look as his group does. "It's the usual for those among my group — generally, only those of us who tend to the health and feeding of our group hunt, track, and heal. It makes sense, according to some, that one who goes into the jungle should know of all the foodstuffs, be they animal or be they plant." He sniffs, crossing his arms, cradling the bamboo pole in the crook of one elbow. "It just… happens that I showed a bent to the healing, ere I rebelled and became … 'corrupted' by the outside world."

Blink Blink goes Alyna as she listens to the man, trying to make sense of what he is saying, but sadly failing. When he finally comes to the end of his little explanation, which really only brought up more questions, she tilts her head to one side and replies with an emphatic, "Huh?" a look of pure confusion on her face as she tentatively elaborates on her previous statement, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound like a wherry-headed bimbo, but I have no fucking clue what you're talking about. But I did only transfer here about six months ago, so at least I have an excuse right?" she says with a half-smirking smile at him.

Ah, a newcomer! This ought to be so much fun! Ibrahim will try to explain further, now, without making Alyna's head spin any more — that wouldn't be fair, even if he finds a small corner of himself that is just itching for the chance to twist and tease. "There are groups of folk out in the Jungle. We live neither in the Weyr nor in the residential holds, and that's what the Weyr has deemed us, who prefer not to be encased in the Holds or the Weyr: wildlings." He snorts, dismissively. "We're no more wild than riders are debauched savages." As is the current verdict of the Weyr as a whole among his kind.

"Wildlings?" Alyna ponders out loud as she raises an eyebrow in the young man's direction. "Interesting." And the greenrider will absorb what he has to say and puts it aside to process it for now before she snorts in reaction to his last, giving a very non-chalant shrug of her shoulders as she says thoughtfully, "I don't know, I'm usually up for a good bit of debauchery." She says with a suggestive raise of her brows and a wink of her own thrown in his direction, playfully teasing, maybe bordering on flirty, who knows?

Well, well. Hasn't this fishing expedition become rather more interesting than he's expected it to. Ibrahim will grin at her, one brow arching briefly. "Oh are you, now; good to know." Apparently, he's not adverse to being debauched, if it's properly done. He could use some of that — it's a way to relieve stress, or so he's been told, repeatedly. "And under what conditions are you up for such a thing, Greenrider Alyna?"

Alyna laughs heartily at the reaction from the wildling, his directness rather refreshing as she shakes her head a little bit before tilting her head in his direction, hands on her hips now as she looks at him with a highly amused expression. "Conditions?" she says with a distateful wrinkle of her nose, "Nothing so formal I assure you. I just let my whims take me where they will." She says with a airy wave of her hand to reinforce her free-spiritedness.

Free spirits are fun spirits! Ibrahim is all too casual in the encouraging tilt of his head, the soft murmur inviting her to continue on. "I see." He could do with a good deal less formality, himself, as the morning has been full of such things, and has begun to grate even on his nerves — he who seems to have a deep well of patience for all things and all people. "Well. I find myself curious as to these… whims of yours. I wonder if you might be thirsty." Is that a gleam in his eye? PERHAPS.

Now Alyna is torn. She was supposed to be here baking the last of the rainy season's damp out of her bones and working on her tan, but she never says no to the offer of a drink, especially when offered by such a wild looking young man. After a long pause, she replies tentatively. "But I just got here to enjoy the weather, I'm not quite ready to head back inside." she says with a little pout on her lips as she looks up at him. "And I've totally distracted you from your fishing as well." She says with a bob of her head in the direction of that now infamous pole of his.

"And who's to say I didn't get what I was fishing for?" Ibrahim asks softly, all innocence in the face of her concern. He turns to eye the shore, where his own belongings have been laid out: a fluffy towel and a full wineskin. "Oh, no worries — we don't have to go far for that drink." The wildling man has always got ways and means and things to achieve an end — even if that end is unexpected and totally made up on the spot. "See? All we have to do is go over there, and you'll have your drink. While soaking in the sun."

His softly innocent words causes Alyna to arch a slender blonde brow in his direction, "I see…So am I to be the catch of the day then?" she quips back teasingly, not unpleasantly, but the greenrider likes to know where things stand. As he indicates his towel and the wineskin waiting there, she hums appreciatively and turns back to him with a growing smile on her face. "Then I graciously accept your invitation." Peering over to her own towel and discarded clothes, she points in their direction. "I'll just grab my things and meet you over there?" She asks with a tilt of her head even as she moves back to shore to gather up her few belongings.

"Depends on whether I can keep you for a time or not." Ibrahim taunts, turning to shore and enjoying the play between himself and Alyna. Oh, but it's been awhile since he'd last just… fooled about for no reason except to be silly. He will definitely agree to enjoy some time in the sand with this vibrant greenrider, and some wine. Getting to know more weyrfolk has been on his list of things to do for quite some time; he seems to making a good start of it.

A hearty chuckle bubbles out of Alyna as she wanders over to towel, clothes and sandals. Bundling them all up, she carries them over to where Ibrahim is set up, carefully laying out her towel next to his. "And no one 'keeps' me by the way. I share my company with others quite freely, that's true, but no one claims me." It is not said unkindly, just matter-of-fact and she may as well make that clear from the get-go as she sinks down onto the towel, curling her legs under her to one side, as she props herself up on one hand.

"Your attention, then." Ibrahim will amend his statement easily enough, stretching his slim frame out on his own towel before pouring forth a chilled, golden wine, offering Alyna first cup as is proper. "I had no designs on claiming you — nor any interest in being claimed. So," And he lifts his glass to Alyna, dryly amused, "Now that we've laid out the boundaries…" Andf here again, he's teasing her, just a little.

Alyna takes the glass from him with an appreciative bob of her head, "Thanks." she says as she considers his next words, her smile is lightly puzzled, "Boundaries? Are we in negotiations? I thought we were just having a pleasant drink." She raises her glass back to him before she takes a small sip, humming appreciatively as she licks her lips, "That's good. What is that? I don't often drink wine, but I like that." she ponders as she takes a longer sip.

"We are." Ibrahim agrees. "You felt the need to inform me you cannot be 'kept'." He waggles his eyebrows at her playfully, sipping at his own wine. "Yes, it's a particularly good vintage…" That he managed to get his hands on by hook or by crook, and isn't spilling the beans on how he's managed to procure it. "It's actually something the Traders brough from the Northern Continent. One of the trader groups up that way make it. I've quite forgotten the name."

Alyna ponders his response as she takes another long sip of her wine. "Interesting. I never knew traders came to the Southern Continent." Today it seems that this greenrider is learning all of the things. "Anyway, thank you for sharing it with me Ibrahim." Putting her glass aside now, Alyna shifts so that she is laying on her stomach on the towel, her arms crossed under her head to create a pillow as she turns her head to look at him. "So you mentioned about being 'corrupted' by the outside world. Does that mean you never see your…" the woman searches for the word that the younger man used, "..group anymore?" She ponders.

"Well, there are fruits and things grown here that the Northerners clamor for, and things such as this — " He lifts his glass, admiring the golden tones. " — that Southerners want, so. It's worth the trip." He'll dig the foot of his glas into the sand, ensuring that not one drop of the liquid inside has a chance of spilling, lying back on his elbows and scanning the horizon with gentle brown eyes. "Mmm, yes. My group believes that folk who live in the Weyr are…" He pauses, searching for words. Which are hard to come by when trying to explain the customs of one's little tiny 'village' so to speak. "… uncouth. No home training, no manners, no respect for the 'proper Traditions'. Never mind that these things vary from group to group even within the Jungles. I see them on occasion, when they desperately need something from me, though… those are fewer and farther between, these days." He heaves a sigh, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of the sun on his face. "Also, it didn't help that I took off around fifteen with the thought of becoming a Seacrafter, because I met one, once. It didn't last long."

Alyna considers the man's words for a long moment before she can even think of how to respond. "That just sounds so….backwards to me." Is about all she can think of when he explains more about his kin. "And they live in the Jungle? Presumably off the land? Are they nomadic? Or does each group hold territory? What kind of shelter do they have?" It seems as if the only thing Ibrahim's words have sparked off in the woman is a rapid-fire barrage of questions as her curiosity gets the better of her.

"It is backwards. They barely survive, for the sake of holding to Tradition. Backwards Tradition, at that. Like early marriage, keeping the women somewhat cloistered, and men doing most of the outdoor work. And Faranth forbid we get formal education, especially now with so mamy new things coming here." Ibrahim is chuckling softly at the many questions Alyna seems to have for him. "My, you are a curious one. "Yes, we are nomadic within our territories, and our shelter is… varied." He's sure there will be many, many more questions for him, so takes the opportunity to whet his whistle.

Alyna considers his responses with a look of pure awe, "I had no idea. This is all fascinating." Propping herself up on her elbows, the greenrider reaches for her glass again and swallows the rest of her wine in one gulp before she holds it out again in the direction of the wildling man, a softly pleading look in her icy blue eyes as she bats her lashes playfully in his direction. "Early marriage huh? Is that why you ran away to the Seacraft? Escaping a forced wedding?" Alyna wildly guesses now as she giggles, the wine going right to her head in this heat. As long as he will keep the wine flowing, the greenrider will happily question him relentlessly about himself and his people, utterly fascinated.

Add a New Comment