Zaria, Sesa


Sesa and Edleveth meet Arroyo's Wingleader.

Slightly Backscened


-- On Pern --
It is 4:35 PM where you are.
It is afternoon of the seventh day of the tenth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.
In Igen:
It is the sixty-seventh day of Autumn and 84 degrees. It is hot. Hot, hot, hot. Rukbat bakes the desert. Temperatures soar.
In Southern:
It is the sixty-seventh day of Spring and 94 degrees. A passing storm thunders overhead. Lightning flashes and thunder booms.
In Southern Mountains:
It is the sixty-seventh day of Spring and 21 degrees. It's really damn cold out.


Lake Shore

OOC Date 20 Apr 2018 06:00


zaria_default.jpg azrith_default.jpg sesa_default.jpg edleveth_default.jpg

«This one has skin like the moon too. So many fair ladies in Igen!»


Lake Shore

Sprawled out beyond the Weyr proper's hustling activity and ambling roads, the cool, blue paradise of the Weyr lake promises escape from the oppressive hammer of Igen summer's cruel climes; the asymmetrical, sandy white shores hook delicately around the deceptively still waters running deep and sure, greedy peninsulas reaching white fingers stretching in crooked lines towards its center. A sturdy shack, weather-beaten and brown as cured leather, resides in isolated splendor upon one such finger, screened shelving offering a variety of brushes and fragrant oils housed in colorful tureens. Out beyond a small and dusty paddock ringed by a white fence, a long rocky pier stabs out into the lake, providing a panoramic view of the Weyr itself, while the southern shores provide varied shrubs and grassed for the massed herds in their pens.

It is the sixty-seventh day of Autumn and 84 degrees. It is hot. Hot, hot, hot. Rukbat bakes the desert. Temperatures soar.

Another hot day in Igen, Rukbat's rays merciless in the dry heat of Autumn. Lounging with freshly oiled hide is the striking indigo form of Azrith. His sky blue speckled muzzle is held aloft, the teasing arch of his eyeridges making him look amused as he scans lazily over the lake shore, pondering finding some company. At his side, sitting in the shadow created by the large blue's body, and dressed in a breezy white linen, long-sleeved tunic over a matching pair of billowy pants. On her head is a floppy wide brimmed hat made of some sort of stiff white canvas, further shielding her extra pale skin from the harsh rays. Her clothes are clinging to her as if still wet. She is leaning back against the sapphire and royal blue whirls over his belly, her hands pillowing her head and her eyes closed.

Sesa has been busy, busy, busy, but this is nothing new for a weyrling! Busy is good! At this time though, the young ex-Harper has found some time fore herself, which of course, is now dedicated to PT. Over the last month or so, Sesa has gained a leaner, more muscular build than she had before, both out of necessity and out of good routines. Right now, she's dressed in black shorts and a yellow tank top, sturdy shoes upon her feet. Not exactly traditional wear for a woman in Igen, but, for a Weyrling in training, it's just perfect. She comes jogging into the lake area, Edleveth, his inky self, bounding alongside her. The weyrling dragon is still a bit gangly on his feet, and his run isn't exactly the most graceful, but at least he doesn't fall anymore.

A melodious croon is extended along with sinuous neck in the direction of the incoming weyrling blue as Azrith turns his gaze on Edleveth. The movement causes Zaria's eyes open and her to sit forward stretching her arms out along her long legs. When the younger woman comes within speaking range, the ginger haired woman will pick up the brim of her floppy hat, folding it back to clear her vision, "Good form Weyrling! Keep it up!" she encourages, a warm smile on her face, her soft spot for fellow female blueriders evident. Reaching out with a shimmering wave of midnight velvet, fuzzy softness against the younger blue's mind, « Enjoying the day? » Azrith asks conversationally.

Edleveth croons back to Azrith at first, but as it becomes more apparent that Sesa is going to continue her run, he meanders off towards Zaria and her blue, and Sesa is inclined to let him, knowing that her blue's stamina is still not quite up to par with her own. She starts when Zaria addresses her and halts, but jogs in place, not wanting to cramp up. "Thanks!" She salutes in Zaria's direction and after a moment, continues her jog. She'll do two or three laps, one being a cool down lap, before coming back. Edleveth however, has parked himself smack in front of Azrith and is sitting up on his hind legs, tail and wings used as props as he stretches his inky head upward to get a better look at Zaria's blue. «Quite. It's lovely out…» Ink sails across parchment to form moving images, a weyrbowl alive with life, Rukbat's rays shining brightly upon it, though the only color present is the gold of the sunlight.

Zaria smiles and chuckles at the momentary pause to get a salute in and nods approvingly of the girl's dilligence as she watches her continue her run. Azrith curves his neck so that he gently boops noses with the smaller blue a warm rumble in the back of his throat. « It most certainly is and no better place to enjoy it. » he adds with a another ripple of soft velvet. The bluerider gets to her feet while the blueling finishes her jogging, doing some light stretching of her own.

There's an excited explosion of colorful ink throughout Edleveth's parchment when snoots are booped and he drops and runs in a couple of excited circles before coming to a screeching halt in front of Zaria, eyes whirling a happy blue as he turns his ink stained head to look at the fair skinned rider. «This one has skin like the moon too. So many fair ladies in Igen!» His poetic cheesy lines cause Sesa to roll her eyes as she cools down, though her chuckle can be heard nearby.

Azrith warbles with delight at the reaction from the younger blue at the booping of the snoots, his velvety mind touch is plush and soft, « Mine is quite stunning. Her freckles are exceptionally adorable. » The blue puffs his sapphire whorled chest as he praises his lifemate with a possessive pride. His last gets a skeptical ginger eyebrow raised in his direction as Zaria fights the urge to roll her eyes as she looks over the younger blue parked in front of her, her hazel eyes skipping over to where the weyrling's rider is cooling down from her run, calling to her when she gets in range again, "He's quite charming you blue."

It's not long before Sesa is approaching the dragons and Arroyo wingleader, a look of both pride and exasperation aimed at her curious blue. "He can be. Sometimes." This said with all sorts of affection, of course. Zaria receives another salute, just so Sesa can cover her bases. «Only Sometimes?» Inky blotches move slowly in a bit of a Rorschach pattern. Yes. Only Sometimes, but that is ok my blue. You'll learn finesse in time. She's rewarded with a colorful bouquet of desert blooms traced in ink. «Good.» The blue continues his examination of the blue riding pair. «Like moon and sea they are, they should be immortalized in paint.»

Returning Sesa's salute, Zaria nods approvingly. "Gotta love the running huh? Well you do by the end of weyrlinghood or you'd go nuts." she chuckles softly as she adjust her hat again so that it's not falling in front of her face. Azrith rumbles with interest at something Edleveth says, swinging his flat muzzled face to hover in front of the weyrling pair. « Immortalized in paint?! Yes! It must happen! A large canvas I think. It will be the focal point of our weyr. » His tone is excited at the idea of having his beloved rider and his own gorgeous self on display for all to see..well all they invite over that is. His pointed look then turns to Zaria and the bluerider pinches the bridge of her nose as she takes a deep breath, muttering under it, "Thank Faranth for a dragon's short memory." Turning her gaze back on Sesa, she smiles again. "How goes the training? As rigorous as I remember I bet."

Sesa chuckles. "They might not remember much in a few days, but he'll notice and mention it again I'm sure." She shakes her head and grins when Zaria asks about the training. "It's hard work. But I don't mind it much, I had to do a weight lifting routine to be able to throw stone far enough." Sesa points to the musculature building in her arms. "And I just made it a part of my regular routine." Edleveth is right there with Azrith, extrapolating on canvas size and how an off-shell white will catch the gleam of Zaria's skin so perfectly that one could write poetry about it. And how pale pink and soft white do the same for
Sesa. It's enough to make the weyrling bluerider blush.

"And then he'll forget it again." Zaria will add hopefully because having a wall sized portrait of her and her dragon is not high on this bluerider's priority list. As Azrith devolves into rapid-fire chatter with Edleveth over what size is best to capture the most detail, Zaria clamps down on his sharing until she can think again, sighing in relief with a little shake of her head. "Yup, that sounds about standard." she quips with a grin before chuckling, "Hard work, but worth it in the end. What kind of background did you come from?" she asks curiously as she sizes the teenager up, wondering if she might not be able to guess.

"I was a Harper apprentice before impressing, with a specialty in records keeping." With Edleveth engrossed with Azrith, it's easier to chit chat now. "And apparently I come from a line of them." Sesa grins secretively, her complicated family entanglements not something she'll explain unless directly asked.

"Long line of riders? Or Harpers? Or both?" Zaria queries for clarification as she leans back against the bulk of her blue, trying to give off the vibe that this is a casual chat, not an inquisition. "Is there anything from your former life you're finding useful in your new one?" she asks with genuine curiosity, head tilted to one side as she loosely crosses her arms over her chest.

Sesa laughs. "Both. In more ways than one." As to Zaria's next question, Sesa shrugs. "Yes and no. Being a Harper gave me focus, so I can study well, and my Harpering had Vosji looking at me for Cartography reasons, so there's been a few pros. But Harpering never taught me anything about building physical strength, or at what angle and direction thread falls, or even how to properly care for a dragon, so there was plenty I struggled with and still do sometimes."

"I was a studier too." Zaria muses as she nods thoughtfully, "Focus is necessary for so many aspects of a rider's life, so it's good you are ahead there." She listens to the younger girl's last and shrugs, "There are some things that you can't learn about until you are in the thick of it unfortunately and dragonriding is one of those things."

"So I've been learning…" Sesa smiles and looks over to her blue, who seems very happily distracted still. "But I couldn't live my life without him, when I impressed, it's like I found a piece of me that was missing." Despite her happy life, and her love for her foster parents and foster brother, Sesa has always felt just slightly apart from things, like looking inside from without.

"It's a wondrous feeling isn't it?." Zaria remarks about impression as she gives her own sappy look in the direction of Azrith, reaching out and chuckling when she finds him still going on about that painting. Pushing off from her lean against her dragon, the Wingleader smiles warmly once more, "He'll probably be at it for awhile unless you drag your blue away. I need to be getting some food and then I have meetings to attend." The bluerider almost looks chipper at that news, her inner workaholic desperate for distraction apparently. "Clear skies Weyrling." she offers with an accompanying wave before sauntering off in the direction of the bowl and the Caverns beyond.

Sesa gives a bow and a nod. "We have things to attend to as well. It was a pleasure meeting you Wingleader. Clear skies to you as well." It takes a few moments to pull her excited blue from his conversation, but she manages and eventually they are both off to the barracks, and studies and a good night's sleep.

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