F'kan, M'noq


F'kan checks in with his wingleader.


It is evening of the nineteenth day of the sixth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


The Klah Bark, Southern Barrier Hold

OOC Date 15 Mar 2018 05:00


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The Klah Bark

Welcome to the Klah Bark, hippest joint in the Hold. The place where everyone gathers to get that needed Klah fix. A curved bar dominates the space to the left of the doorway, laden with tiered trays of delectable pastries and square wooden canisters of herbs to add that extra spice to your brew. Behind the klah bar is a large hearth where all the magic happens. Baking a variety of snacks to tempt the pallet and brewing the signature Klah the place is known for. The recipe of which is a closely guarded secret. Smith crafted workshop stools line the curved bar for those who wish to gather and socialize briefly. While a smattering of hewn wooden tables fill in the rest of the room for those who would rather linger and enjoy.

Another cold night at Southern Barrier and F'kan is almost glad to be away from the Weyr for a bit. Another green went up today, and though Quaverilth puts on a brave face, he could tell his brown was not happy about still being grounded. The brownrider was awfully proud of how his lifemate has been taking the punishment for the brownrider's bad behavior and as such has been doing all he can to keep himself out of more trouble these last few months. So he's here in the Klah Bark, sipping at a steaming mug and looking over some notes he had jotted down in preparation for a report he needed to write for M'noq.

Can M'noq actually tell when someone is sitting down and write a report for him? That might be pretty cool (or it might be really boring). In any case, he finds his way into the Klah Bark right at that moment, pulling off his gloves and hat, trying to shake himself free of the cold. "The usual, please," he says to the barista, before he spots one of his Lynx riders. "Ah, F'kan. I didn't know you came here to do hidework. How is it you picked up one of my tricks?" he asks, grinning.

Looking up when he hears his wingleader's voice, F'kan just chuckles as he offers him a salute all the same. "I've been here so much recently, it's just kind of been my go-to place to come and y'know…get away from it all I guess." He offers up a noncommital shrug as he straightens up the hidework in front of him. "Funny you should walk in though, I was just starting a report for you on an idea I had for the wildlings and how to help our dealings with them." He looks at the other brownrider expectantly, as if asking if he should continue or just write up the report and hand it to him later?

M'noq pulls up a chair and sits next to F'kan. The barista comes along quickly enough with his klah, too, and M'noq wraps his hands around the mug to warm them. "Sounds interesting. Want to tell me all about it?" So that means, let's talk it out, and if the idea needs more work, you've saved yourself some effort writing.

F'kan looks pleased when M'noq joins him and adjusts himself to sit forward, elbows on the table as he gestures with his hands animatedly as he talks. "So I was on sweeps a few sevens ago, and Quav spotted something in the jungle, so we checked it out, thinking it might be someone who was still missing after the storm. Well It wasn't. It was this wildling woman. Don't sneak up on them by the way, I was almost skewered by one of her arrows." F'kan doles out that little bit of free advice before continuing, "Anyway, her name's Devana of the Erdou. We started talking, I explained what I was looking for on sweeps, she mentioned their own got hit pretty hard in the storm as well. Then I introduced her to Quav cause she's never been up close with a dragon before. So here's the thing, she had a lot of misinformation about us, dragonriders I mean, stuff like we only pick kids to stand for Hatching. But after I cleared up a few things, she seemed to be receptive to opening up." And here F'kan leans forward in his excitement, "What if we work more on getting wildlings used to us, preferably the younger generations, and our dragons without the expectation of anything in return, then we can subtly start to implant the true information in their minds to take back to the older generations? And even if it doesn't, the older generation will be passing the reins to the younger eventually anyway, so it's win-win." F'kan stops and just stares after he finishes his rambling explanation. He is cautiously optimistic as he looks at M'noq for a response.

M'noq listens quietly, nodding along at all of F'kan's points. When the man finishes, M'noq pauses, turning the ideas over in his mind. "Well, that's definitely a good goal. I know a lot of riders have been working on it. The truth is, some wildling groups are easier to approach than others. Some want more than others to get involved with riders and holders. It is a bit of a challenge, talking with each wildling, making him or her see us as people they can share this continent with. So, what did you think of her? The wildling, I mean."

F'kan tries really hard not to, but there's a ruddiness that creeps into his cheeks at that question, and he tries to hide it with a dip of his head and a sip of his hot beverage. Clearing his throat, he answers, "Well, she seemed nice enough. Rather keen reflexes with her bow, wouldn't want to be someone she meant to be aiming at. Friendly though, and at least interested in learning more about dragons and riders. Quav really liked her too, but he gets along with everyone." Unlike his rider, is the unspoken addendum to that.

M'noq gives a soft sigh, his brows furrowing. "I don't mean, how would you like to go on a date with her. I mean, what did she tell you about being a wildling? What do you think she's going back to her tribe to say about you, about us? What do you think are the things that would most appeal to her tribe, if we talked with more of them?"

F'kan looks embarrassed by that, and winces slightly, "Sorry Sir. Well, she did say no other rider has ever offered her a close up look at their dragon and seemed surprised that I was doing so. She seemed to think it might upset her mother if she had found out about, but seemed ok with doing it anyway, really kinda rebellious actually. She's been using her bow since she was 8, that seems a little young for learning a weapon for me." He starts shuffling through his notes to see if he's forgotten anything

M'noq just hums, leaning back in his chair for a moment. "Well, there are probably a lot of wildling groups in the jungle we've never met. Some avoid any contact with Weyrfolk or holders, and just because you've made friends with one group doesn't mean any other group will like you any better. Did the woman say she wanted to meet with you again? Or bring you back to meet her family?"

F'kan looks up from his notes, "We didn't make plans or anything, she had to leave quite suddenly when she heard some whistles coming from deeper in the jungle, her family no doubt. But I could try and find her again." F'kan sighs then, with a little shake of his head, "Sorry Sir. I should have asked her more questions. I was just too busy answering hers to be honest."

M'noq smiles then. "Don't worry about it. If she wants to be found again, you'll find her." And if she doesn't want to be found, or if her family doesn't want her found, that will be that. He muses for another moment before saying, "F'kan. Remind me, what restrictions do we have you under right now?"

"Well I'll keep an eye out just in case." F'kan says with a nod before he swallows hard at the lump in this throat at M'noq's question. "Um, no flight and no sex are really the only two left, well, besides not going back to Igen Weyr that is." He sits back in his seat a little bit, back a little straighter and he looks at the older rider.

M'noq fixes F'kan with a stern look in his hazel eyes. "Let me tell you, the last thing I want is to have to reimpose restrictions because I lifted them too soon. I want all the riders in Lynx to be a credit to our wing and a credit to Southern. Because if you go out and treat people with disrespect, whether that's a wildling or a holder or someone up north, they don't say 'That F'kan is a jerk,' they say 'Southern riders are jerks.' You understand what I'm saying?"

F'kan sits just a little straighter again and he nods his head solemnly, "Sir, I don't ever want to be the reason people say Southern riders are jerks ever again. I completely understand what you are saying." And he manages to look sincere mainly because he is. "These last months really caused a lot of soul-searching for me. I know I did wrong. I think that's what's different from the first time I had restrictions lifted, I couldn't admit I was the cause of my own shit." He clears his throat then and takes a deep breath.

M'noq nods, considering. "All right. I'll lift your restrictions. But I suggest you take it easy the first few sevens, all right? Don't freak out any greenriders, and don't go chasing down women who want to be left alone." Another drink of his klah, which has cooled considerably while they talked. "Have you made up with that woman you hurt in Igen? Sent her letters and heard back?"

"I sent her an apology letter shortly after it happened, but she never got back to me." F'kan answers, as he tries not to look too excited about the prospect of having his restrictions lifted, but he can feel Quaverilth's presence in the back of his mind vibrating his pleasure at being unrestricted as well. "I know Th'res is her friend though, and we've been working on making up a list of all the people I affected with my bad decisions and she's certainly on there. Don't know what he's planning on making me do with that list just yet though."

M'noq gives the other man a wry smile. "Glad to hear you've got Th'res helping you. Follow up on reaching out to her, but don't be a pest. If she says she doesn't want to talk to you, or you don't hear back on this second try, you're done. Don't talk to her again." He's quite serious about these instructions.

F'kan nods his head vigorously, "Definitely Sir. Thank you." He pauses for a deep breath. "And thanks again for taking me on even with all the trouble I've caused. I love flying with Lynx, and I'm just going to keep doing my best, our best, cause I couldn't have done all this without Quaverilth either." He goes for his mug again and takes a sip to soothe his dry mouth. "I was just about to head back actually unless you need me for anything else Sir?" He asks as he finishes the last of his klah.

M'noq looks briefly troubled at this, or perhaps something buried in F'kan's remarks, but he nods. "I'm glad you've done so well with Lynx. Ocelot isn't for everyone, though I'm sure there are riders who wouldn't be a good fit for Lynx, too. I'll see you at drills, all right?" And while he finishes his klah, he might as well get started on the hidework to officially lift F'kan's restrictions. Hopefully this will be the last time.

F'kan gets to his feet them with a respectful bob of his head, totally missing that troubled look on his Wingleader's face. "I will see you then Sir." He says with a very smart salute before he slips back into his riding jacket and heads for the door, his pace is controlled but there may be a little lightness to his step as well as he slips out into the cold to take his dragon home.

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