Who

Zavyr, D'ex, Zynth

What

Zavyr gives Zynth a Firelizard.
Sort of.

CUSSING, Threats of Violence, other normal Zavyr/D'ex things

When

It is midday of the eightth day of the eleventh month of the tenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

White Sands Beach

OOC Date 06 May 2017 07:00

 

zavyr_default.jpg drex_default.jpg zynth_default.jpg

«Actually, I think I do want it. You should get her for me.»



White Sands Beach

Brilliant white sands sparkle across the wide beach of this lonely little island, blinding at first like sunlight upon the snow. Scattered across the sands are pieces of driftwood that look like ghastly sun bleached half buried remains. The lagoon waters wash up on the shoreline in gentle waves for a band of reefs keep it fairly calm. Encroaching upon the sands are a set of cliffs that rise high above the beach, broken only by a small stream that tumbles downwards from it, carving a pathway through the stone. To the north, the white sands give way to sharp rocks from where the cliffs have fallen and receded from the coastline.


With graduation behind them, Zynth decided it was high time that exploration of the world was in order. Senior Weyrlinghood had brought Zynth and D’ex a weyr and flight, it also brought some of the first senses of freedom that either had in months. Even now, here on the brilliant sands of this island, a Lynx rider and dragon are not far off, but hey, they weren’t so bad. Don’t talk back and D’ex got along well with his escort. After all, this guy was doing D’ex a favor in allowing a flight this far. Between was out of the question, but Zynth made no complaint about it. The blue erupts from the warm waters onto the white sands in a burst, then spins on a dime and dives back into the water. The pristinely smooth beach is ruined, pitted with the young dragon’s jumps and splatter with water higher than the tide usually threatens. D’ex is trying to ignore the loss of perfectness of the beach, sitting in the crook of a rock, the red head dozes in the shade. Down the beach, the Lynx brown lays sprawled in the warmth of the sand, his rider not far off, keeping half an eye on his charges for the day.

It was Zavyr’s firelizards that had spotted D’ex and the blue dragon, and come shrilling and caroling to her. All but Joy, who yet crouched over the last few eggs of her clutch, there on the beach, an event that had necessitated Jinorav and Zavyr’s staying in the area for a bit. However, Zavyr by now has acquired four lizards of her own and, being a keen observer of flit eggs, she has determined that at least one of them is in dire danger of hatching quite quickly. Joy’s attention to that egg, one of the few left - all small - confirms Zavyr’s suspicion. So when the firelizards begin bringing Zavyr images of D’ex and Zynth, and the Lynx rider, Zavyr hatches a plan. Valor and Hope are set to hunting. Joy watches her eggs and little Grit watches D’ex, sleeping. The tiny brown lizard finds his task boring, at best, but he settles nearby to earnestly perform it. Zavyr, loitering with Joy, watches the queen, and bides her time, hoping that indeed D’ex will remain asleep. When, in fact, the little gold lizard begins to hum, and calls both wild lizards and her own fair to her and the few remaining eggs, Zavyr grabs one of them - the most spectacularly-colored one - and some of the crawly things that pass as food - and begins a fast jog down the beach to where D’ex slumbers. So it happens that, when the egg cracks and a green lizard comes spewing out of it, the bluerider feels the cold wet of a whole lot of spiderclaws and a chopped up freshly-dead fish, on his hands. “Wake up easy, D’ex,” murmurs Zavyr’s voice, even as she crouches just out of sight.

Zynth’s play is paused as the performer is spotted sprinting across the white sand. The blue makes no effort to alert his bond, but he dips back into the water, head telescoping out and watching the show without comment. D’ex himself was having a lovely dream about organizing spice cabinets. Finally, he’d come up with a perfect line up, it made sense, it looked good, and best of all it-it was interrupted by something slimy and wet and touching him an-the rider is awake groggily, the meats are looked at without comprehension for a moment, mind not quite believing the ridiculousness of waking to dead stuff on him. That was like something that might happen back on the Wandering Disgrace and might lose someone an ear. Why were there all these fish, or fish pieces as it were, and how? And what? “Zynth, this is really not funny. I know you think you’re funny, you’re really not.” His hands were all sticky and yuck and D’ex starts dropping nastiness onto the ground, sitting up with every intention of washing his hands. His blue, simply watches, no words answering the accusation.

“No no no. Hold the food. Out. See her?” Zavyr’s voice coaches, registering actual delight, as she continues to crouch behind the rock D’ex had been resting on. “Oh. Congrats on graduating to Senior Weyrling. M’noq said you all were getting drunk or laid. I won’t ask.” Zavyr adds, even as the green lizard cries piercingly, projecting her hunger to both D’ex and Zavyr. Two nearby lizards - a small brown and a full-grown green - hum even as the green clambers down the rock awkwardly, with tiny wings outstretched to try to balance, to reach that food that had been draped all over D’ex. “There you go, D’ex! Give her the food!”

D’ex yelps, nearly jumping out of his skin, twisting and falling off of the rock into the warm sand, “WHAT?” How the HELL did Zavyr always end up in places?? D’ex was having a lovely time here and then comes the Fool to ruin things an-”What?!!?” The green is focused on, now at about eye level with D’ex as she stumbles down the rock. D’ex stares up at her and the pale youth. It clicks, “No! You are NOT giving me one of the flying rats!” Most of the little food bits were scattered in D’ex’s fall, on the rock and around him, “No, no! Not that! You keep all your little things away from me! How are you even here?!!? We are in the middle of No Where!!!” A fish sticky hand is stretched out in front of him, as if it might shield him from the new green. Zynth’s lean form has slunk up onto the beach and the blue watches, belly pressed to the ground as if half afraid he might frighten the little lizards off, «I want it.» The words are simple and cool, but D’ex’s attention flips around to the blue with a thin horrow, “What?! No you don’t! They’re annoying and make problems and you don’t want it!!!!” Unmoved, the blue inches closer, starting to hum with the lizards, «Actually, I think I do want it. You should get her for me.»

She is HUNGRY, D’ex! Zavyr reaches to poke D’ex lightly in the shoulder. “You’ll like her. And Zynth will like her, see? You’re already taking care of a big one; she’s super easy compared to that.” Now Zavyr will edge up enough to take an unspoiled bit of food and toss it at D’ex, “Catch. Here. Quick. She’s going to go wild if you don’t.” Two more lizards have appeared: Joy and Valor. They hum and ring the green in with fluttery wings and encouraging camaraderie. “Feed her, she’s hungry!”

The thrown food is not caught, but lands in D’ex’s lap, one finger is wagged at Zavyr, “Don’t you be comparing Zynth to a flying rat! He’s a-” The touch of the blue stops D’ex, «Feed the little green. You may not want her, but I want her.» “Dragons can’t have firelizards!” «Then have her for me. Now, before she realizes she can fly away.» The blue’s thin nose nudges D’ex, and with all the reluctance possible, the last few scraps of food are picked from his lap and help out to the little green, D’ex’s face scrunching up as if near pained.

To the orchestra of intense humming, the little green manages most of the way down the rock before losing her balance and collapsing into D’ex’ lap. She rights herself with a flurry of wings, looking affronted at the left one for having caugth itself below her foot like that, before she reaches to eat the food offered reluctantly by D’ex. The intense wash of his impression to Zynth will never be repeated, but a finer, more glancing sensation glitters over D’ex’ consciousness: This little green’s touch is delicate and fine but there with a perhaps surprising intensity. And she’ll put things to right, D’ex. She appreciates order as well. “THERE!” Zavyr’s voice comes from nearby. “Zynth, you will make him take care of her right? She needs a lot of oil and will be sleeping much of the time, and eating, but needs to be oiled lots.” Pale blue regard studies the blue dragon for a long moment.

Food is shoved into the little thing’s mouth, no matter how like-minded the new green was, D’ex wasn’t going to be happy about it. “Damn it!” D’ex’s words are ignored, while Zynth himself peers over his bond’s shoulder at the mismatching green, a fine frost pushing through D’ex’s mind to green the new life attached there, Zynth would have to make a point of showing off his new firelizard to his clutchmates. The cool breeze touches Zavyr, a sharp contrast to the hot white sands around them, «Of course, she will be taken care of.» The words are tinted with a fondness, a crisp feeling of snowy dawns and early morning forests. A finger waves in the general direction of Zavyr again, “Damn you Fool! How the hell do you manage to screw up my life all the time!?!?!” «Thank you Zavyr. She will be fine with us.»

“Oh you know, I lay awake at night thinking, ‘How will I fuck up D’ex’ life now? Ah-hah! He needs a firelizard! That was just the first of my evil plan, oh you clever lad. You’ve found me out.” Zavyr winks at D’ex and rises, reassured by Zynth, stretches herself to her feet. “Just keep feeding her, D’ex. And if you want another one, let me know.” That’s mostly spoken to Zynth, with an impish grin, as Zavyr moves well out of D’ex’ range and steps around the blue dragon toward the ocean, bare feet leaving divots in the sand. “Though when she rises… Let me know how that goes for you.” Hee hee hee.

“You know, there are times when I think I should have just cut your throat rather than strangle you. Less satisfying, but at least you would have been dead bef-” Mental words cut him off sharply, «Be Nice. We’re keeping her.» “Zynth! Stop that! She is not a nice person! Do you see what she just did?!?!? Damn it, now we have a-” « Lovely little Fire Lizard to live with us. Our weyr is too big for just one, perhaps we need two firelizards? Another green? Maybe a blue or bronze?» “No!” With another piece of food shoved into the green’s mouth, D’ex lifts the little thing and dumps her unceremoniously in front of Zynth. Pitiful cries of complaint are answered with the dragon’s hum, his sharp head lowered to the sand to look at the green and tap her gently in an effort to comfort her, words returning to Zavyr, «Perhaps sometime, but not til she is older. Then maybe another.» His head shifts slightly to study Zavyr’s firelizards, then turns back to his own little green, «She will be good for now. Thank you.»

Gold, bronze, green and now a tiny brown eye Zynth back, even as Zavyr traipses into the sea, “We all have our regrets, m’dear former pirate, good Orderly, Stealer of Signs and Painter of Stripes Upon the Wood. Had you cut my throat, you’d have been killed by Lane and Sharps, and you’d not have lived to Impress your charming blue owner, here.” A negligent wave of her hand indicates Zynth, “Who, I must say, is absolutely one of the finest dragons I have had the pleasure to interact with. I am jealous.” There’s truth in that. “But you’re welcome, D’ex, for the lizard. You have to name her something reasonable. Not ‘Dammit’.”

Zynth noses the little green and unsteady steps make their way to the next little piece of food. D’ex has lifted himself back up onto the rock, arms folded and sulking, “Oh really? I somehow don’t think so! What’s wrong with Dammit!? It’s a suiting name. Perfect in fact. But if that’s not going to make his Majesty Fool happy, the little rat will be WhattheFuck. Dammit or WhattheFuck are the options. Or maybe Bastard. Asshole? I like that one! Come here little Asshole! Nice ring to it.” «Not Bastard, too masculine. And What the Fuck is too long.» D’ex waves a hand at Zynth, only more annoyed that the blue was not noticing, or choosing to ignore the spite and sarcasm in D’ex’s words.

“You should graciously allow Zynth to name the lizard.” Zavyr volunteers from where the waves splash against her calves. “He’s a creative sort, I suspect, and will do the task justice. But then again, perhaps people choose names that reflect upon themselves, in which case every one of those you suggested would be incredibly appropriate, D’ex, sir.” She turns enough so that he can quite clearly see her grin, if he happened to be glowering in Zavyr’s direction. “In that case, I’d have to cast my vote for ‘Asshole’, because you sure are acting like that right now and it’d commemorate forever your attitude.”

D’ex IS in fact glowering at Zavyr, and has been since he can’t very well glower at Zynth. “Make that two votes for Asshole then!” Down the beach, perhaps the Lynx rider and brown have noticed the commotion over here, and perhaps they are ignoring it. Or perhaps, the brown’s thin touch on the younger dragon is answered with reassurance and frost. Zynth had things handled. The blue’s cool touch is extended to both his rider and the woman in the water, «If we are casting votes, then I’m afraid I’m already out numbered.» The little green has apparently eaten her fill for now, little eyelids growing heavy as a blue claw over twice her size curls around her protectively, «But if I was to choose, I think I’d call her Lady. Because that is what she is. She is my little Lady.» D’ex only snorts, not sharing his dragon’s more poetic view of the world. “Call the little beast whatever you like.”

She laughs again, does Zavyr and sends a merry wave brown-ward, but doesn’t make any move to head in that direction. Instead, indeed, she will turn to wade in the other direction. “Feed. Oil. And my best regards again, Zynth. Do take care of your Lady.” Zavyr blows a kiss to D’ex before turning to trail down the beach by way of the water’s edge… To a more dragonless environment, thank you very much. Mission accomplished! Her fair all takes to the air and whirls around Zynth in spinning enthusiasm, before shooting down the beach, each racing the other to get to wherever she’s going, before she does.

D’ex only snorts again, “Damn it.” Then stands, as the Fool vacates the water, or at least gets farther away, he himself wades in, washing the sticky from his hands and straightening himself the best he can. “Fucking dammit.” The red head continues to mutter to himself as he trudges back up the white sand while his bond curls up around the tiny green with a content hum. Neither look up to their lynx escorts, nor do they watch the departure of the Fool. The blue pair settle back in to sleep, the interrupted nap resumed with a small new sprinkle of a third consciousness among them.

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