Who

D'wane, N'iel

What

It's finally warm again! D'wane and N'iel make the most of the weather, even if D'wane has hidework to do.

When

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

Where

Beach, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 11 Aug 2017 23:00

 

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Beach

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.


BREAKING NEWS!!!! WINTER DOESN'T LAST FOREVER!!!! This is incredibly good news to D'wane as spring has returned to Southern with a glorious first few days. Things have been dry and warm and sunny and it's perfect beach weather! So even though the wingsecond has some hidework, that hidework is being done outside. On the beach. Shirtless. Rocketh is currently sleeping in the warm spring sunshine and the big man is leaning up against the bronze, a stack of reports beside him, weighed down by a sleeping firelizard so a gust of wind can't blow them astray. Currently, report number thirty something is being read.

Roxeauth swirls in for a graceful landing, touching down on those long legs of her and making it look easy. She's noticed Rocketh, of course, but for the moment her focus is on her rider as N'iel slides down from her neck, clad in shorts and a simple tunic - totally beach appropriate wear. He's even barefoot, and sinks his feet gratefully into the sand with a sigh. He's got off the side of Roxie that lets him start traipsing across the sand towards D'wane, calling out a soft, "hey," as he tries not to surprise the man, but just catch his attention as politely as possible. Now her rider is safely delivered, Roxie will arrange her wings and tail just so, letting her kohl-rimmed gaze fall on Rocketh. « Well, fancy meeting you here, honey. »

It's kind of hard to miss a dragon touching down close by, so D'wane's not entirely surprised by the weyrlingmaster's arrival. He had glanced up long enough to make sure the green wasn't an Ocelot green and so probably not searching him out before glancing back down to the report. The hey will draw his attention back up, hide set down and a friendly enough nod offered. "Afternoon. They let you escape the barracks again?" Interruption isn't objected to. It might even be welcomed. Rock will stir from his dozing at the touch from Roxeauth, a warm, salt tinged breeze blowing through palm trees. « I make a habit of finding only the best spots. You're welcome to join me, cupcake. »

"I think even they know keeping us in there all day every day would drive us to madness." N'iel eases himself down onto the sand near D'wane - he's not as spry as he was in his youth. "You seem more awake today," he observes of D'wane with a friendly smile, glancing at Roxeauth to make sure she's behaving herself. She appears to be, as much as she ever does. The green is settled a fair distance from Rocketh, but she'll shift her tail so that it lies tantilisingly close to the bronze. She'll bathe in that lovely breeze of his, a spark of flame shielded from it by a cupped hand; then, her usual scent of smoke. « I see that you do, don't you? Yes, I think I'll lie here and enjoy the sun. » If only dragons could wear sunglasses!

"Probably. But some people would say there are no sane riders, so it could be good exposure for the weyrlings, right?" D'wane begins digging into the bag next to him to come up with a waterskin, which he takes a swig and then hands it out towards the greenrider. "Yeah. Haven't ran into a mudslide today." Mudslides tend to be exhausting. "Unless you count the hidework." It's fair enough that the green doesn't want to cuddle up too close to Rocketh. Since D'wane's claimed the sunny side of the bronze, the side that would be left for her would be in his massive shadow and it would be such a shame not to soak up the sun now that it's returned to them. Rock takes no offense at the positioning, although his tail might also shift to faintly brush out against her's. « Do. And today will be a good day. » Sun, sand and pleasant company. Today the bronze's mind is just echoing and enhancing the actual surroundings. How pleasant.

N'iel gives D'wane a long look, then, dry as an Igen desert, says: "please don't give them ideas." But the corners of his lips turn upwards as he can't quite keep a straight face, and he settles into his nice sittin gposition in the warm sand. "I'm not sure if I'd prefer the mudslide or the hidework. At least the mudslide doesn't cause headaches." He picks up a handful of sand and lets it fall between his fingers. "Summer can't come quick enough, huh?" Roxeauth doesn't acknowledge the light brush of Rocketh's tail, save for the smoke of her mind swirling, as if dancing. « This weather suits you, doesn't it? » She says conversationally to him, though there's an undertone of her trying to get the measure of him.

D'wane just laughs at the dry look. "Of course not. Because if I do then I'm sure you'll find something to tell K'vvan…" And then they'd just have an arms race of who can make each other the most miserable. K'vvan is probably open to suggestions to inflict on his wingseconds. "Mudslides come with their own sort of headaches. And then hidework after it." AND HIDEWORK ABOUT HIDEWORK! It never ends. :( "Ehh. This is nice enough. Water's warming up. I can take this. And summer, and fall." Winter's apparently the only Southern season he's going to object to. Once it's below 60 regularly, it's really too cold for swimming, right? And shirts should be worn. Rocketh stretches out a little bit in the sun, sun highlighting the metallic tones in his hide. « I think it suits most, but me best of all. » He can be a bit generous that way.

N'iel's eyebrows lift; yeah, he is not keen on the idea of making either of their lives any harder than they need to be. He leans forward and to the side, so he can start pushing some sand into a little pile. "I'll make sure I hand deliver the reports on the weyrlings to you when it comes to tapping them, then," he can't resist teasing the Wingsecond though, all casual like as he focuses on trying to shape his sand-heap into something more recognisable. "I hear tell of some Wings doing initiations where they go and swim nude in ice water. So you wouldn't be up for that, then?" He's smilign to himself as he works, partly at the playing with the sand, partly at what he's saying. Roxeauth is ever so carefully watching Rocketh, out of the corner of her eyes; she looks like she's watching a boat off in the distance, but her head is angled just slightly towards the bronze. Mmhmmm. « Is that so? » There's a drag on that mystical cigarette, the glow of embers in her mind's eye. « I don't think I would suit somewhere dull. The sun is far too important to miss. » And as if to prove her point, she'll shift her wings to let the light play off the wisps of pearl that reside there.

The sand construction project is watched with a tilted head. "You know, it normally helps if the sand is wet." D'wane will just point out oh so helpfully. And then groan at the mention of more hidework. "At least that there's not much for me to do with those. K'vvan will want to see all of them anyway." So he'd just tidy up the edges of the stack and pass it on! The bronzer snorts at the mention of the initiations. "Nah. Though we did jump in icy water often enough in High Reaches. And when I was promoted, we were at Southern Barrier and ran out into the snow…" Not everybody, but D'wane definitely did. And they were sober because Rielle was no fun and pointing out healer facts and stuff.

N'iel looks at the sad attempt at a sand building. Looks at the sea. Sighs. The sea's just too damn far away. Ah well. "It's uh, it could be some ruins." Yes, that'll do. He rubs his hands together to brush sand off them, then immediately ruins that by putting them back in the sand as he leans back. Derp. "Ah, so you've got experience in it," the green rider will grin, before he frowns as a thought occurs. "Wait…clothed or unclothed? In the snow?" Because that's totally important to know, apparently.

"Or it could be a sandpile. Somewhere in Igen maybe?" It's hot and so D'wane's taking another sip from his waterskin. You have to come prepared if you want to camp out on the beach all day. There's a laugh about his experience. "Yeah. Rock hatched in the fall." So he was kinda big, but still couldn't between by winter in high reaches! And the last question gets a grin from the big man. "Unclothed. You should try it sometime. It's supposedly good for the constitution." Or something.

N'iel eyes the pile critically. "Hm. Yeah." It could be anywhere in Igen - that place seems to be more sand than anything else. "Man. Weyrlinghood at Ista was one thing, but doing all that in the snow? My condolences." But N'iel is all good humour about it. "Y'know, people keep telling me. I want to go see the snow but…I think I'll keep my clothes on." He grins over at D'wane - no offence meant to those used to colder climates! "MAybe I could take the class somewhere cold for their first trip," he ponders. Cruel, cruel man.

Well, to D'wane, Igen seems to be full of proddy dragons because that seems to be the only reason why Rocketh ever insists on going up there. But the proddy dragons do exist among a lot of sand. "You get used to it. I was actually from a mine even further north than the Weyr." So D'wane shrugs the condolences off. "But I certainly do enjoy the beaches now I can find them." Hand wave about like right here and then his face turns just a touch more somber at the last. "Probably want to avoid Southern Barrier for a while."

The look N'iel gives D'wane implies 'poor soul' even if he doesn't outright say it. "I was born in Keroon, so I guess that's why I seem to gravitate back to warm places." Not that he or Roxie are complaining about that. As for SOuthern Barrier…N'iel purses his lips. "Yeah." Though he wasn't there for the fateful Gala, nobody can escape the news of what happened there. "What is going on there now, anyway? I've mostly been trying to keep the weyrlings from worrying about that whole thing but…I'm curious." So help him.

"Nothing good." D'wane's been helping out with the investigation enough to have a few more details than your average Joe rider, but he's being pretty tight lipped. "Stuff keeps turning up." So no dead ends. "But it keeps leading to another clue and another one." So no dead ends yet? Aside from the folks that really did end up dead, but they still left plenty of leads to investigate.

N'iel doesn't sound surprised as he notes, "it never is, is it?" And there's a sigh, too, before he reaches over to smooth his disappointing Igen sand pile back into the expanse of the beach. With D'wane not offering too much information, no doubt for good reason, N'iel doesn't fish for more information. "Hopefully it doesn't drag on for too much longer. Having something like that hanging over everyone is never good for morale." He looks off at the horizon now, squinting against the sun's intensity.

D'wane sighs as well. Wordless agreement on that. While the other rider is smoothing out the sand, the bronzer's going to call it a day on the whole reading reports thing. Pebble is getting scooted to the side which the little bronze lizard doesn't protest too much and the hides are all going back into his bag. "It really isn't. It'll be nice to be able to just focus on Thread again." And maybe some search and rescue work too.

"Always an odd day when you're almost looking forward to Thread." N'iel offers D'wane a wry smile. He flexes his legs, then brings them up into a bent position - slowly though, those knees can get achey. "Given up on that, then? Or…you're finished?" He nods towards the bag that now holds the bronze rider's hides.

"At least Threadfall you know what to expect," And it's not doing it because it's greedy. Thread's not sentient enough to have emotions. D'wane stretches out, leaning against Rocketh's sunwarmed hide with a glance back down at his bag. "Finished for now. The rest of them can wait until tomorrow." Or until the sun goes down and he ends up going back to his weyr. He can't spend EVERY night in the Kitten after all.

"Mm," N'iel agrees, still squinting out at the bright blue sky over yonder, perhaps imagining Thread falling somewhere far off. "Shit as it is, you can prepare for it. To an extent." Wildlings and murders and all that fun stuff? Not so much. Roxeauth makes a soft noise then, with a mental prod to N'iel, and he turns to see one of his young charges further down the beach, their dragon making a determined course towards the sea. "Yikes. Looks like I'm needed." He's already getting to his feet (Roxie isn't making a move to do anything, but probably has reached out to the little blue, judging by the way he peers in her direction and slows down). "Catch up with y'soon," N'iel promises D'wane, with a grin, before he slips into a light jog to take him towards the errant weyrling pair.

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