Winter in Southern means cold and rain. Plenty of rain! Except for now, as the sun begins to set, there's a small reprieve and a break in the dreary clouds just in time for a glimpse of fading light. Va'os probably shouldn't be on his feet AND outside, but the Weyrleader is nothing but tenacious when he's got something on his mind to see through. No surprise, he's just finishing business in the Guard's HQ. What possibly could be going down now? Because a number of Guards are soon marching off somewhere into the Weyr itself. Hmm. Interesting! Va'os hovers by an overhang, shoulders hunched a bit against the chill wind and his expression set grim and tensely. Waiting for someone? Or is he regrouping before he tackles whatever else is on his plate?

Few days have passed since W'lin has come to Southern Weyr, and in that amount of time he's been busy with many of the standard protocols associated with a weyr move. It's in the evening hours that he's found the time to try and explore his new surroundings, from the main training grounds all the way to the Southern's shores. He appears to be coming back from some type of venture just now, stepping away from a contented-looking Khasvith, with a satchel strap slung carelessly over his shoulder. It's the guards marching off on their mission that stops him in his tracks, and then his eyes focus on Va'os. "Evening, sir," W'lin greets the Weyrleader, rearranging his bag as he steps closer to the overhang.

Ahh, the calm before the (shit) storm! Enjoy it, W'lin. While it lasts? Southern's been seeing considerable strain over the last few 'Falls, what with the illness spreading and then the whole refugee situation. Quite the time to be transferred! Va'os' mind had begun to drift far, far away by the time W'lin approaches and he starts a bit at his voiced greeting. At least he bites back the curse he was about to hurl out? "Ah, hey… Evening." Belated salute and not even close to formal; it's almost lazy and definitely rushed. "… W'lin, right? You're the new transfer from Telgar." Hello again! Va'os straightens a bit and offers a grin that doesn't hide the tired, exhausted look to his eyes. "Settling in okay?" A gesture to the bag. "Or still in the middle of it?"

Can W'lin be returned? Buyer's remorse? "I didn't mean to interrupt." Interrupt what is a good question, but one that's wisely not voiced by the dark-haired man, as a curt salute is returned for the weyrleader's lazy one. "Yes," W'lin replies, looking pleased that Va'os even remembered his name and his former Weyr, "W'lin and Khasvith." He rubs the back of his neck with the palm of his left hand and his smile widens, a smidge uneasily. "Settling in," and that seems to be enough. "Laeiva has been a big help with all of it. I have everything I need. There's a table and stools they have in the stores I'd like to go look at whenever one of the headwoman's assistants has a moment, but everything's.. it's working out."

More like, if W'lin runs for it, Va'os won't judge him too hard! "Nah, not interrupting anything!" he admits with a light scoff. "Lucky for you I'm between catastrophes." Ha ha… he's probably half serious. Sometimes his memory doesn't fail him too much or the transfer was recent enough to stick in his head. He'll keep his gaze held on the bronzerider while he speaks and that grin broadens into something a little less tired and a bit more… lopsided. "Well met again, W'lin and you don't have to lie. It's a shock, eh? Southern'll grow on you eventually." What if it doesn't? "We're kind of in a bit of a fix right now but… glad to have you. Hope it's not too much of a trial by fire, y'know?" Va'os isn't gonna elaborate on that. Moving on! Nothing implied there. NOPE. "Yeah? Guess that speaks for something if you're already finding stuff to make this a bit more… like home."

It's already too late! Between catastrophes earns a puzzled expression from W'lin, but he's not going to be the one to pry into a man's business; especially a man who had the luck to get tangled in a goldrider's sheets and saddle himself with a whole Weyr to run. "It's only as different as they say it is. I'd always taken for granted how much more conservative we are up north," he answers, lips twisted wryly at his own lack of ease in transitioning. "It's hot." He comes from a land of snow, so. "I'll try my best not to prove you wrong, sir," is sincere, and then a, "Ah.." He frowns, then reconsiders and slants the weyrleader an assessing look that holds little by way of distrust. "I, uh.. well, sir, I made the commitment to stay here. I don't like going back on those. I don't have anything to lose." OR DOES HE.

Va'os doesn't consider it luck that saw him thrown into this! More like a curse and all Tsiroth's damnable luck. The bronze thought it was pretty damn awesome, thank you very much! He's top dog, landed a pretty sweet piece of tail AND created a mini army of new dragons in the whole process! So. Win-win, there! "Heh, I hear you there, man. Not Telgari myself, but High Reachian born. Holderbred." FUN TIMES. Not. Thankfully Tsiroth isn't listening in, or Khasvith would be getting some weird tune about 'coming from the land of ice and snow, midnight suns and where hot springs flow…' "That…" The hot humidity. "… you don't get used to. Just fair warning!" From your new Weyrleader~ Isn't he so helpful? He'll smirk for the other's sincerity and the latter comment. "Everyone's got something to lose." Cryptic remark is cryptic, before he scoffs again but in flat humour. "Won't sweetly coat things but you coming here is good timing for us, probably pissy for you. The Wings are getting hit hard by whatever this… illness," Wait, what? WHAT? "Is. The storms did a number on the local Holds, too so we got squatters." He nods in the direction to where the guards marched off earlier, before landing a solid stare on W'lin. Va'os is up to something! "So, W'lin. Humour me. What'd you think are yours and Khasvith's strengths?"

Those dragons of theirs could see eye to eye on that - who wouldn't want to be the alpha dog?! Luckily, it's a less alpha-minded W'lin that holds all the cards in their deck, and he's just happy to have a weyrleader who seems to understand the conservative Holdbred struggle, ok!? "High Reaches? How'd you end up at Southern? I'm from Lemos, originally." Two once-holder turned-bronzeriders boys staring each other in the eye and talking Weyrlife; what a whacky world. "I don't feel like I will. I swear I could put a straw in it," the humidity, "and drink." He straightens when the talk gets more serious and current, his fingers on his shoulder-strap tightening. "I've heard about the illness from Laeiva, and.. some more of it," he murmurs, face strained. There's sympathy there. Squatters, shitters, whatever. "Uh.. that's.." Way to put a man on the spot. "Khasvith has drive and a lot of patience. He'll see whatever he has to through. I'm," he shifts in his stance, flustered at having to hype-man myself up, "good at standing by my words. I'm not easily swayed. I like solving problems. I've been sent as a proxy for Telgar's weyrleaders to their minor Holds before. I do whatever you need me to do." Is he a yes man? Yes, that's what he's saying.

"Long story. Can tell it over a few beers, sometime!" Va'os actually means it too. Weyrleader or not, he mingles with his riders (and is sleeping with one of the Wingleaders … eeeyyyyy~) and has never really made most of his past a secret. Not that he goes shouting from the heights that he's a former convict but hey… There you have it. "Lemos, huh! Never been out that way." Oh, what a whacky world indeed. Or is it a mad world (and let's not cue that depressing song)? "You probably could." he says with a suppressed laugh about the jungle's oppressive summer weather. There's what could be a nod of approval when W'lin admits to being up to speed at least about the sickness. Good! Good. One less thing and Va'os is notorious for putting people on the spot. Throwing curve balls. All of the above? "Uh huh," he mutters, while keeping a sharp focused look on the poor newbie the whole time. He sweating yet? Eventually, Va'os snaps his fingers and grins wolfishly. "Ocelot. I'll send word to warn 'em, but I think you'd fit right on in there." Or IS IT A TEST? TRAP? BOTH!? "High flight Wing. Mostly deal with S&R and Guard stuff when we're not getting nailed by back to back 'Falls. We'll see how that meshes." Time to say 'yes', yes man.

"I'd be happy to hear it. There's nothing like a couple of cold drinks to keep a long story interesting," W'lin says, agreeing to the future meetup with his weyrleader. As he slants the other man an amused look, he questions, "Do you like trees? Cold weather? Lemos has its charms." It must be no surprise then he could be found at Telgar and now, Southern, even if it's still fresh and not-so-charming; Lemos must be not much of a party either, in his mind. But back to business! He shifts his weight restlessly under Va'os' focused stare. "Ocelot? Ocelot," he mutters, nodding his head like he's familiar with the name or its reputation. "Whatever you think it best, and if that's it.. we're in." Khasvith doesn't get any say in the matter. More on that later.

Va'os literally finger-guns as a gesture to W'lin. He gets it! "Exactly! And who wouldn't like trees and cold weather?" High Reaches probably has that too, but as most learn fast with him, his opinion of that region is… neutral at best. Back to business, indeed and he looks smug in his decision ? or is it W'lin's reaction? "I'll take care of the gritty stuff with their Wingleader. If you happen to come across R'zel or Vani though, they're your Wingseconds. Good riders, both of 'em!" He may be biased towards the greenrider but hey, praise is praise, right? Reaching out, he'll attempt to clasp W'lin on the shoulder because if there's another thing Va'os is? Unafraid of getting RIGHT into people's personal space. "For now, enjoy the rest of this rain-less evening! Unwind a bit, before shit gets real." In the morning! Va'os will give a parting thump to said shoulder if he was successful and then gesture in half-salute, half dismissive wave. "I've something I need to go check up on. When things aren't so crazed, I'll take you up on that beer!" In other words: it might be awhile. On that note? Va'os is OUT! "Clear skies, W'lin!" he calls as he starts to walk away. See? He's a nice Weyrleader… "Try not to get yourself killed!" Or not.

Bros get bros, come on! "I appreciate that, sir," W'lin says with gravity, "and I'll take care to remember those names." What choice does he REALLY have though? They might just be pretty words, but he's as sincere as with the rest. He glances down at the hand on his shoulder, but doesn't look perturbed; it's a gesture and he's on the receiving end of his weyrleader's attention. "I.. uh, yeah. Yeah, I will. I am. I'm going to go have some drinks at the.. at the bar." Spending his marks at the Weyr instead of going outside and heeding Va'os' advice, see? Yes man, through and through. "Clear skies, sir," comes with a dismissal salute, and then he just stares after the other bronzerider as he walks away. "Weyrleader Va'os.." comes under his breath. There's an amused headshake, and then he's making a direct beeline for the lower caverns.

W'lin will live to see another day.. for now.