R'ku, A'lira


R'ku has a problem — A'lira is his solution.



Early morning Igen time.


Standing Stones, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 10 Mar 2018 06:00


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Star Stones

The climb up here on foot is steep, narrow stone steps carved high into the sandstone, and from the top the precipice-drop to the jagged-craggy stones far, far below is treacherous. It's a wide sweep of ledge, a dragonlength and a half jutting out from a rough cliff wall. The wind here is ceaseless, dusty-dry during daytimes and biting at night. But for those who brave the climb to this lookout perched high above the Weyr's bowl, the view from these sandy-red rocks is breathtaking. Igen stretches wide-wide-wide around, a vast expanse of deep blue lake and lush green swamp and the myriad rust-rich colours of desert and rock. The real purpose of this spot, though, is highlighted not in its view of what is below but its view of what is above. Three tall rocks stand, one balanced across the tops of the other two, at the focal point of the ledge, perpetually framing one slice of the desert sky beyond.

It's hot. So hot that the word 'hot' is probably not enough to describe the heat gripping Igen today. The sun is barely up and it's still scorching. Yet R'ku has, for whatever reason, opted to call his meeting with A'lira to be outside on such a day. At least there is a healthy breeze this far up, causing the wind to ruffle R'ku's shaggy black hair. He's sitting on a jutting bit of stone that's probably been used as such for turns upon turns - it's relatively back from the dangerous cliff drop and provides a view of the star stones themselves. R'ku is squinting up at said stones as he waits, his riding jacket and any other layers he could savely shed draped at his feet.

Enter the sizzle: the sun's baleful eye, cast over Igen, happily boiling away any trace of life anywhere outside. Any wise person would be holed up in the cool bowels of the Weyr, but not dragonriders! Oh, no, they have to be out in this stuff, making themselves living sacrifices as surety for the lives of others. A'lira, ever the prepared one, has snagged a waterskin to carry with him up that stone edifice to the Star Stones. Here's to hoping R'ku has a good reason to have called him up out of the stillroom where he'd been sorting yet more herbs and things into their proper places. "Wingleader." He greets quietly once he reaches R'ku's resting place. There's even a salute, which doubles as a way to wipe sweat from his brow.

R'ku , thankfully, wasn't silly enough not to be up here without a water skin, either. As A'lira approaches, he bends down to dig his own water skin from beneath the protective folds of his riding jacket. He takes a swig of the contents before lifting it in a sort of salute to A'lira, teeth flashing in a quick grin, "Hot enough for you?" His deep voice is his usual light, teasing tone, enhanced by a low chuckle of a laugh. The whistling wind, though, does make him have to pitch his voice a bit higher, though not quite to the point of yelling. He waves the water skin towards the bare bit of rock next to him, inviting A'lira to take a seat. Then he jerks his head towards the sky, one eyebrow arching, "What do you reckon the affect this is going to have on the weather for the next 'fall?" Because he might as well indicate some reason why he might be up here. It /does/ have a good view of the sky and a nice way to feel how the wind is blowing.

"Oh, I could use one or two more degrees higher." A'lira quips with a laugh, settling into the indicated spot and taking a small sip of his own water. All that wind, while making it a tad bit more difficult to hold a conversation in normal tones, does feel good, relieving, just a bit, the excruciating heat that seeks to suck every bit of moisture out of the body, parching the throat. "Hm.. it keeps up like this, and Thread will fall mostly sideways, I think. We'll have to keep a sharp eye out for unusual directions and clumping where we're not expecting it. Do we have enough green and blue riders ready?" He asks R'ku, frowning a little.

R'ku pauses to wipe a trickling bead of sweat from the side of his cheek and then takes another quick swig of the life-giving water. The sun is starting to rise higher as they talk, so likely is getting even more glaring and angry. "I think we have enough," he notes after a brief pause for thought, "One blue still injured and one greenrider with a bit of food poisoning that may not be better in time." He digs at his belt pouch, pulling a handful of something from within. Holding his hand up, he opens it to allow a slow trickle of sand to fly off into the wind. R'ku watches this thoughtfully, noting the direction the sand flies off, before nodding, "Going to be a wild one, to be sure. That plus the heat - will have to have more shift changes and be sure everyone stays hydrated." He squints at the sky, assessing the clouds, "Might brew a nasty storm one the heat breaks, too." Because a sudden blast of a cold air front with this heat probably makes for an angry weather system. R'ku arches a brow at A'lira, "How is blue Ereoth doing, anyhow? Didn't seem too bad a score .. but … "

Angry? Glaring, white-hot hatred might be a better term, for the sun seems set on turning A'lira's skin even darker than it already is. Oh, how he hates the relentless burn of it! At least he's decided to let go of that mop of hair of his or it would be much worse going for him! Even Kyprioth hasn't needed to be coaxed into the Lake lately, for it was better than getting an earful of his rider's discomfort. Wait… A'lira did manage to snag the notes on Ereoth from his desk before he left. Pulling them out of a pocket, he scans them carefully, squinting a little against the wind. "Hmm. K'tar thinks it might be better to leave them out a bit longer — that wing score's worrying him still."

R'ku is apparently too stubborn to relinquish his own mop of shaggy jet black hair, though he's sensibly pulled most of it back into a runnertail. Not that it does much to keep the wind from whipping stray strands around his face and flipping said runnertail around, as well. He swigs thoughtfully from his water skin, eyes narrowed against the rising glare of the sun plus added discomfort of the gusting wind. "Best not to rush it," he agrees, his voice a bit hoarse from the wind, "We can check on them tomorrow. See where it's going." He casually drops that 'we' in there, subtly nudging more responsibility onto A'lira. Perhaps it's to cushion what's coming next. R'ku glances sidelong at the brownrider, one eyebrow arched, "You've been helping quite a bit lately, A'lira. Are you against making it official?" With his free hand not holding the water skin, he pulls out a Wingsecond knot, the tightly woven cording whipping around in the wind as it's held up for inspection.

Squint. Is this a trap? There's been a lot of knots being tossed at him lately, and it seems A'lira can't duck it fast enough! But still, there's something pleasant about getting recognized for being to step in and step up where he's needed. Better to do this whilst he's young enough to take so much on, then. "Uh. Yes. Yes I suppose we should." He's almost hesitant to take the knot, but take it he does. Poor Igraine will be seeing very little of her mate.

R'ku seems to relax as A'lira accepts the knot, his shoulders releasing tension and his breath coming out in a puff of a sigh, "Thank Faranth. I honestly couldn't stand another minute of Ch'ad as Wingsecond. Been on the look out for a better replacement for a while and I was hoping you'd accept. We work pretty well together." There are probably infamous problems with Ch'ad, whose decisions have been probably rankling some of the rest of the wing. Especially when one rather boneheaded decision resulted in R'ku breaking a few fingers. "Now the worst part will be telling Ch'ad he's back to being just a Wingrider," R'ku notes with a snort, pausing to take another swig of water from his water skin. "You good to step up right away or do you need time?" Because the less time with Ch'ad in his role, the better.

A'lira is well aware of Ch'ad's…. ways. Hence his increased helpfulness and availability. He is a young and inexperienced rider, but there's something to be said for extensive Craft training — they teach their Journeymen well in Healer Hall, for leadership and the compassion to do it properly. "Him.." A world of disgust in that single word; disgust, and contempt. "We'd better just do it, mate. Waiting won't make it any easier."

R'ku sighs again, this time in resignation, "Suppose you're right. Either way will probably have him pouting like a child when I take his knot away." He runs a hand over his face briefly, effectively wiping away some of the lingering sweat from the hated sun and also facepalming at the inevitable outburst from Ch'ad. R'ku eventually shrugs his shoulders, "Well - you have the easy part, at least." He flashes a toothy grin, "You don't have to tell him you stole his position. That's all on me." R'ku eyes the sun, which is starting to creep ever higher and burn ever fiercer, "We better get down from here before we roast. No PT today, though we may want to do some brief drills to get us acclimated to these conditions. Sun glare, high winds, lots of sweat and heat. Better to get used to it now than when we have to fight thread in it." As much s R'ku is likely dreading having to essentially marinate in his own sweat for a candlemark. He rises to his feet, sliding his water skin into a loop at his belt and stooping to collect his riding jacket and other gear.

A'lira will happily get out of that duty. He spends quite enough time trying to avoid the man whenever possible, though they're often paired for sparring, being of similar size and build. Perhaps the hope is that A'lira's caution will rub off on Ch'ad, though no such luck as yet. "Well, let's to it, then." R'ku to his unenviable duty, and A"lira to his many, many other duties, all bathed in sweat.

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