Xh'zil, Th'seus Bailey


Xh'zil and Th'seus stare at the eggs. They're not impressed. Bailey cameos from the sands.


It is the fortieth day of Summer.



OOC Date


xh'zil_default.jpg, Th%27seus15.jpg



Stone benches rise, black and showing the lack of polish from a thousand seats — by the look of it, these have not been used in… forever, if ever indeed.

It's been remarkably cool at Southern, if you feel like the very high 80s is chilly. It must be a relief for Th'seus, because the big man doesn't look like he's about ready to keel over from heat exhaustion. The galleries as usual have the odd onlookers, gawking at the eggs. He doesn't usually get out here before hatching unless it's one of Vossuth's, but… perhaps he's bored today? Who knows really. At the bottom of the stone benches, he leans against the rail, getting a good view of the sands and the eggs that are laid out across it.

For all that Xh'zil's lifemate might have sired the eggs out there on the sands, the bronzerider himself has been rather absent from keeping Bailey company. It's hot. And boring. And Mishonth is perfectly capable of getting in the way all on his own. He's out there now, even, watching the eggs from a safe distance that happens to put him between them and the main ground entrance. "I've never understood why people seem so fascinated by them," notes Xhaz as he wanders along the front row in Th'seus' direction. "They aren't very interesting until they've hatched. And even then…" Guess who will never be any sort of weyrlingmaster! This guy.

"Yeah, I agree." Th'seus responds, sounding bored even now as he looks out over the eggs. They're alright as far as big shelled things go. "I like when they hatch. Run around, scare people. That's usually entertaining. But then after that?" He shrugs his shoulders, turning his head just a smidge so that he can regard Xh'zil's approach. "They're weyrlings." Someone else here isn't going to be a weyrlingmaster anytime soon. "How's Bailey been?" The bronzerider wonders with idle curiosity, likely alluding to her disposition on the sands and not her general well-being.

Xh'zil's attention stays mostly focused on the sands themselves, but more his dragon than the eggs. "I do enjoy the hatching. I've never cared much beyond that. To be honest, though, he's never sired a clutch before, and it feels… different." Clearly he's not sure how to explain it, so he'll just assume Th'seus knows what he's talking about. "Fine, I suppose." It's not that great of an answer but it's all that he has to give. And whether or not is accurate is just the fact that Xh'zil probably hasn't noticed otherwise.

Sob. XH'ZIL DOESN'T NOTICE THAT BAILEY BRAIDS HER HAIR DIFFERENT FOR HIM. It's like weyrlinghood ALL OVER AGAIN, except Bailey's no longer twelve turns old… uh.

"We've done it before." Th'seus isn't bragging exactly, or is he? It all comes across in the same 'these eggs aren't doing anything interesting' tone of voice as the rest. "I had Hannah the last go around." Actually he still has Hannah. In for a penny, in for a pound it would seem. As for Xh'zil's lack of detail on how Bailey is (or Bailey's hairstyle for that matter), he can only 'huh' in a guy way. "I like her. She's got her shit together better than Lendai. I feel terrible for Q'fex, but then I don't imagine he spends much time out here."

It's the 'huh' that turns Xh'zil's gaze from Mishonth to the other bronzerider, like he thinks it's supposed to mean something but he doesn't, for the life of him, know what that something is. "She's… yes. I like her, as well." Which could mean anything coming from him, really. He's not a particularly easy read. And fortunately she's not actually here to hear him say as much. "Did you? Spend much time out here?"

As if some piece of information has finally filtered through his brain, he glances at Xh'zil curiously again. "Are you out of Benden too? Vossuth hatched about…" Th'seus has to think about it, so it's probably been awhile. "Twelve turns almost." Fingers drum against the rail as his attention drifts outwards again. "I tried to, for her sake at least. But the wing takes up a significant amount of my time."

But she DAMNED SURE just went and hopped up on her rock. Bailey, that is. She is completely unconcerned by the prying eyes above in the galleries; instead she seems to have a quiet conversation with Khalyssrielth, complete with her shoving the gold's face away from her proximity when the rose-gold comes close to make one PARTICULAR point.

"Aye. Bailey and I were weyrlings together." If that explains anything, Xh'zil surely wouldn't know what it was. He's back to watching Mishonth, who's lifted his head to look across at Khalyssrielth and her rider. "That's where we've been. Until now. I was hoping there might be more room for… upward mobility elsewhere. Here." Never mind any circumstances where his superiors might have been just as happy to see him go.

That is a nice rock out there. No one can set it on fire and it can't collapse. And does that explain anything? Maybe. But it must not be important since he doesn't touch on it again. "Benden was a shit show. Forget upward mobility there, you were lucky if you could breathe without pissing someone off." Th'seus has a laugh for that one, a quick flash of a smile at the memory of his home weyr. "Southern's better."

Certainly not the words Xh'zil would use but they're words with which he can wholeheartedly agree. They even earn a small smile from the stoic man before it's gone again. "I hope that proves to be the case. If nothing else, the unpredictable threadfall might be of some use." Xhaz is not a people person. He's not really good at saying things sometimes. He's probably not hoping that thread kills more people. Because that would be bad.

That would be bad. It registers in the way that Th'seus' eyes cut over at him, narrowed just a smidge. Hopefully he's not over here thinking that Xh'zil is some sort of borderline sociopath. He clears his throat just then, "I guess." He hazards uncertainly. "But it should even out over the next couple of months, with any luck."

Khalyssrielth is here. /Bored/. La-de-da. Lazily, the tiny rose-gold leans over and nudges an egg gently. There, that's settled. The rock of GIBRALTER slooooowly is panned back into her field of vision. The tiniest of tiny tail tip lashes comes before the significant turn of her head towards her lifemate. Oh yes, definitely a conversation going on here.

Well, Th'seus definitely wouldn't be the first to wonder that about Xh'zil. But Mishonth is pretty fond of his rider so that should count for something. Especially considering how pleasant the bronze is by comparison. "Indeed. It will all become old hat, as they say." Xh'zil takes in a breath like he might say something more but instead he lets it out again. Any silence doesn't seem to cause him any awkward feelings, however.

The gold and her rider out on the sands are more interesting to watch than the eggs. So it's there that his attention drifts for a time, at least visually. "Yeah. For the next rest of our lives. If we live that long." Which is exceptionally optimistic sounding. And then there's silence.

From the sands below, Bailey escapes the exotic, whorled darkness of Khalyssrielth's sleek neckridges.

From the sands below, Bailey fans herself breezily with one of those little hand fan contraptions, and then gestures at Khalyssrielth with it. THAT EGG LOOKS UNEVENLY BUILT UP, that one right there. Yeah. That one. The one that looks like Th'seus's hairy ass.

From the sands below, Khalyssrielth sloooooooowly unfurls her graceful, teacup sized body and nimbly stretches — she's a girl who knows she's got a show. Bailey? Up on them thar rock? Earns a dark, glinty mischievous glitter to the gold's whirling eyes as she makes her way towards HER rock. Not Bailey's rock, not Mishonth's rock. It is HER blight upon the sands. Since the eggs are so boring, she proceeds to use one perfect paw to push the rock. Screw the damn egg. She pushes the rock until Bailey would have to crane her neck to see the weird egg. HAH. Problem solving, 101.

From the sands below, Bailey flicks Khalyssrielth off, even though she doesn't move during this whole boulder-shifting process. SHe waits until Khaly's done, then calmly rearranges herself in a zen-lotus at the edge, so she can see the egg JUST FINE KTHX. She points with her fan. THAT ONE, Khaly, THAT ONE. "Unless you want Talicanitath to comment on how you are less-than-orderly," her mocking alto sing-songs forth.

From the sands below, Khalyssrielth warbling long and loudly, the sound emanating from her throat reminiscent of crushing ice and cracking glaciers. Whirling — see? she can do this without crushing her eggs — with the fanfare of her wings, the gold starts rearranging her eggs. She bites her tongue at the Institution! For every single rearrangement is to sew some disordered chaos to the clutch. It's almost orderly for it's lack of order. Some eggs are almost entirely buried, with the plainest ones barely peeping out from the mound of sand around them. Hah. Hah.

From the sands below, "Okay fine, be a bitch! That looks ugly as fuck!"

From the sands below, Khalyssrielth rumbles happily, contrary to her very bones. Success.

"I can assure you that you'll live for the rest of your life," says Xh'zil while looking out on the sands like the idea of someone believing anything else is rather absurd. Poor Mishonth will just stay way over there where he is and not get himself between gold or rider. He's smart like that. But he will watch the eggs as they're rearranged like he doesn't entirely trust Khalyssrielth not to crush one of them. See, waaaay over here.

"Comforting." He answers dryly. With Khalyssrielth burying the interesting looking eggs and leaving only the boring plain ones just barely exposed, Th'seus sighs. He can't even see the one that looks like his hairy ass anymore. This whole stare at the sands thing is kind of a bust. "Well. I'm going to go grab a beer. Want to come?" He puts to Xh'zil as he pushes off of the rails. The other man might not be a great conversationalist, but he can drink. …Right?

"Uh." Xh'zil without an immediate answer. Say it isn't so. "Another time, perhaps." That sounds better than 'I don't really drink because I'm a freak of nature.' "But thank you."

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