Who

Kyriatis, Eryzz

What

Two people have the same idea for a rest day, and so Kyriatis and Eryzz meet.

When

It is mid-morning of the nineteenth day of the ninth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Turquoise Pools, Southern Wery

OOC Date 14 Apr 2018 04:00

 

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"Prickly on the outside, but fluffy inside."


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Turquoise Pools

Such beauty! Water the color of pure turquoise reflects the filtered light of Rukbat that comes through the small opening of the upper canopy; surrounded on all sides by lush greenery, the jungle stream tumbles into the brilliantly colored waters of the pool creating a waterfall that refracts the light into giving a near-constant, imperfect rainbow. The stream continues on, long past these hidden pools of turquoise, leaving behind the crown jewel of Southern's getaway spots. The spray of water from the small waterfall mists the rocks, and at some point in the centuries that Southern has been inhabited a quaint stone bridge was built to span the width of the small pools. Vines and jungle growth further add to the sense of seclusion, surrounded on all sides by nothing but nature.
The area is thickly forested with many bamboo and palm trees.

It is the nineteenth day of Spring and 73 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day.


It's another beautiful day at Southern Weyr, and for some lucky souls, a restday as well. Kyriatis is one such person, and has escaped the confines of the Weyr itself to venture further afield, ultimately ending up at what may be a regular haunt of hers: the turquoise pools. She's brought with her a light pack, presumably containing lunch and other essentials, which has been left at the edge of the pools; the gardener herself currently perches atop the stone bridge spanning the pools, her feet dangling down into the water below, toes splashing. Her less-than-musical hum breaks the otherwise peaceful silence of the spot— a potential Harper she is not.

Another such person is Jr. Journeyman Harper Eryzz, and he's taking advantage of that fact and the lovely weather to do some exploring that the near constant torrent of rain had prevented since his arrival near the end of Autumn. After asking around for recommendations, he heard of the turquoise pools and was sufficiently intrigued that he packed a small bag, put on his loose swim shorts, a short-sleeved tunic, and headed through the jungle. His slate grey eyes skims the terrain once he arrives and winces considerably at the humming, but his tact will prevent him from saying anything. So he finds a spot to drop his bag and strip his tunic off.

Although Kyria is, as is so often the case, at least halfway lost in her own thoughts, the sound of movement - even if it is just footsteps in the undergrowth - does eventually catch her attention. The humming stops (oh thank goodness) as dark eyes swing around to find the interloper. "Morning!" she calls, evidently unfazed by the interruption. "Beautiful day, isn't it? I woke up this morning and I just knew I had to get out and enjoy it properly, and this is the perfect spot for it." Evidently speaking to strange men in isolated places is something she's perfectly comfortable with.

Eryzz tries really hard not to look too relieved when the humming stops as he pulls off his shirt to reveal a very pale chest, wiry and lean, he's just your typical lanky guy. In response to her greeting though, he gives the girl a hooded look, the barest curl at one corner of his lips showing his amusement. "It is definitely a nice day." He answers nonchalantly before he slips into the turquoise water. "And a nice spot." For a Harper, the young man is rather short of words.

Undaunted by her new companion's terseness, Kyriatis pauses only long enough for him to enter the water before continuing. "I'm Kyriatis, I work in the gardens. You'd think I'd get enough of the greenery in my day job, but I love coming out here on my days off, too. It's… different, to what I grow. Help grow, I mean." Her bare toes splash idly in the cool, clear water, sending a few ripples into Eryzz's direction.

Terseness is a nice way of putting the dark-haired Harper's tendency for short clipped sentences, but Eryzz is used to people doing the talking at him so when the girl introduces herself, he just shrugs his shoulders before dipping his head under the water and coming up to comb his fingers through shaggy coal-black hair. "Well met kid. Do you always tell your life story to perfect strangers when you come across them in secluded places?" he asks rather sardonically. "That could be a dangerous habit to have."

"It hasn't hurt me yet," counters Kyriatis, undaunted. "Besides, you don't look like you could harm a trundlebug, except maybe if you frowned at it really, really hard. I'm fifteen, so I'm not exactly a kid anymore." Her toes splash again. "Anyway, wouldn't it be weird for us both to be here, hanging out, and just ignoring each other?"

"Actually, that's what most people do when they find themselves in a public place with other people." Eryzz counters with a mild smirk in the girl's direction as he starts to paddle in a lazy circuit around the pool. He gives a sardonic snort when she takes umbrage at being called a kid. "Excuse me Miss. I had no idea that I was talking to such a worldly
woman." His lazy drawl drips of dry sarcasm as he offers a mocking apology but it's mostly got a playful feel to it.

Kyriatis's cheeks flush, her expression showing her discomfiture in plain relief. Her chin lifts, mulishly, and her head turns, quite as if she's going to turn away and pretend the harper isn't here at all… but she's apparently completely unable to do it, because a moment later she's turning back in his direction. "You're not a people person, are you?" Now she sounds amused, or at least as amused as one can be when one is slightly embarrassedly offended.

Eryzz has the decency to look a little bit sheepish when it's obvious that he's offended the girl as he paddles over to the bridge where she is sitting. Her question ellicits a dry chuckle as he looks up at her with grey eyes capped by broody brows. "I am professionally, but no, it doesn't come naturally." he replies with another shrug of his shoulders as he treads water near the bridge now. "If you don't take my surliness too seriously, we'll get along fine kid." It's obvious the nickname is sticking, but there's no malice in it, just a gentle tease. "I'm Eryzz by the way, Jr Journeyman Harper." he finally replies to her earlier introduction.

"Kid, ugh!" says Kyriatis, throwing up one hand in disgust, but fine, if it is going to stick, it's going to stick; she's more amused than annoyed by it this time, perhaps because she's considering all of this a minor victory over surliness and disinterest, so there! "Well met, Eryzz, and wow, you did not strike me as a harper at all, I see what you mean! Why'd you become a harper if you don't even like people much?" The question appears to be one of genuine interest, the girl's face a pure mirror of her emotions.

"I'll have you know there are some people who I get along fine with." Eryzz retorts, although the current number is in the low single digits but that is of little consequence as the Harper resumes his circuits of the pool, but remains close enough for a conversation to be possible, "And people become harpers for many different reasons. My own had to do with my love of knowledge and history, as well as reasearch and record-keeping. The musty old hides never want to chit chat so it worked out in the end. I do play occationally, the guitar, but when you're performing at a social function, again, people don't tend to seek you out for idle chitchat." His diatribe may come off as mildly condescending, but he's answering her query as fully as he can.

Kyriatis? She's dubious, but she shrugs and doesn't interrupt the rest of Eryzz's explanation: she's waited too long to receive it, after all! ('Too long', after all, is a very relative thing.) The gardener is silently thoughtful for the duration of the harper's words, teeth chewing idly at the skin of her lower lip. "Sounds boring," she admits. "To me, I mean. But I was never much of a student. I guess that's why you're the harper, and I'm the gardener. I bet you need to get out more, though. You'd probably like people better if you met the right people."

"What is boring to one person, is another's Gather day." And there is a way that Eryzz has with words that occasionally slips out as he gets back around to the bridge. He scoffs heartily at the idea that he should get out more, tossing back his head to get a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. "I get out enough thank you very much Kyritatis." Now it's his turn to look slightly offended because maybe it's not as much as he would strictly like.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," is genuine, if a little, well, trilled (and not in the most musical of ways, unfortunately). Both of Kyriatis' hands lift in apology. "Dad's always telling me I shouldn't assume things of people, and I'm trying to remember, but… it's hard. So. Sorry. I'm sure you get out plenty. Shells, it's not like I get out all that much… not in that sense, anyway."

The hearty way Eryzz chuckles shows any offense is quickly forgotten which he emphasises with a wave of his hand, flicking water in her direction. "No apologies. I'm sometimes surprised I have people wanting to spend time with my surly ass. And you still have plenty of time to get out. I mean it only get interesting when you can drink anyway." Uh oh. Eryzz might not be the best influence for a teenager.

"I think you're a marshmallow, really. Underneath." Kyriatis has decided this on very little evidence, but her tone is determinedly sure. "Prickly on the outside, but fluffy inside." Of drinking, she has very little to say: from the looks of her, unlike many weyrbred young people, she's a little sheltered. "How long have you been at Southern, anyway? Not that long, I guess, given how pale you are. Unless you've been hiding inside the whole time, I suppose." Her gaze is appraising, as if she's trying to decide how likely that is.

Eryzz presses his lips together to regain his 'prickly' mien as he resumes his circuits, there might be the temptation of smile on his lips, that he is determined to beat back, caused by her assessment of his nature. He makes no further confirmation that he is in any way 'fluffy', inside or out but goes right back to her next question. "Very astute kid, I was transferred here halfway through last Autumn. And I think my palor looks good on me actually." he actually jests, albeit dryly.

Kyriatis's study of Eryzz, though intent, comes across as nothing but interest: she's not checking him out. "I think it makes you look sick," she decides. "But that's probably because you're skinny, too. A bit skinny, anyway. But don't worry, by the time we hit autumn again there's no way you'll still be pale. Just try not to burn outright, because that always sucks."

"Well thank you for your blunt opinion then." Eryzz replies as he moves to get out of the water and return to his things. "Brutal honesty, I like it." Once there, he reaches for the towel from his bag and ruffles it over his hair to get the excess water there. When he lowers it, his longish, shaggy, coif is sticking out in all directions which he quickly remedies with a combing of his fingers. "And why do you think I am here, in the jungle in the mid-morning, instead of on the beach at high noon?" He adds with an extra helping of sarcasm. "I grew up in Boll, I learned from a young age the pain of too much sun too quickly."

"Happy to oblige!" Kyriatis' smile is effortlessly bright, though there's a sparkle in her eyes as if she's now being deliberately teasing. "Oh, you're from Boll, well that explains things, of course. Not that I've ever been, but I did learn something in geography class, once upon a time. Are you leaving already?"

"And you've got keen observational skills as well." Eryzz notes sardonically as he continues to towel off before slipping his tunic back on. "Just came out for a quick swim. I need to let my poor skin acclimate to the sun in a very gradual manner or I look like a boiled spiderclaw. And I have a date coming up so that won't do." Then his brows furrrow briefly off into the distance. "At least I think it's a date." He ponders that as he offers the girl a wave before grabbing his bag, towel tossed over his shoulder and heads back into the jungle.

"Hm," says Kyriatis, though in response to what, specifically, it's difficult to tell. Perhaps she means it as farewell, too, because she doesn't offer anything further to the departing harper, though she does follow him with her gaze until he disappears out of sight.

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