Rocio, R'zel


It seems Rocio likes harpers! She and R'zel compare notes on family.


It is midmorning of the seventh day of the second month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Boardwalk, Southern Weyr.

OOC Date 30 Jan 2018 00:00





Ancient-cut stone stretches broad, smoothed by the wind and the weather and the rain to create a boisterous center of commerce. Wood overlays stone in places, patterned and pretty, to attract the eye of those traversing the strip to particular vendors. Though not the size of the tremendous markets of the North, the boardwalk's offerings show the knowledge of ageless crafters: Smith contraptions, Herder-certified animals, Starcraft maps and Weaver textiles are only some of the things that may be purchased, among the spicy scents of beach food and the contrast of bright shells and dark stones from the shoreline.

A restday has Rocio perched upon a wooden railing alongside the boardwalk with a small cup of shaved flavored ice in hand. It's hot enough outside that she's scraping the inside of the cup with a spoon so that the ice doesn't all melt in two minutes time. Well, it will melt in two minutes time if she doesn't eat it all by then, so that's why she's very focused on the task. The greenriding huntress is dressed in shorts and a tank top with her beachy blonde tresses tied back into a runnertail while she continues to scoop out her tasty icy treat.

R'zel is dressed for the heat, too, and with the temperature at a mere 99 degrees, he's also resorted to a sunhat. He's not (yet) succumbed to the lure of iced delicacies, but he is taking a gulp of water from the flask that's slung over his shoulder on a narrow strap as he pauses in his slow wander down the Boardwalk. It's as he's replacing the cork that he spots Rocio out of the corner of his eye. He ambles towards her - really, it's too hot to hurry. "Morning! Well, this looks better than it did last time I was here."

"Hey, R'zel! How are ya?" Rocio asks without looking up from her mission of scooping out eeevery last bit of shaved ice from the cup. A salute is offered to the wingsecond, too, and finally she looks over at him as the last spoonful of flavored ice is enjoyed. "This stuff's amazin' if you're lookin' for a treat. I got the yellowfruit flavor 'cause it's the best." Obviously! The disposable cup and spoon are then tossed into a nearby waste barrel before she fishes a purple handkerchief out of her back pocket. Sticky fingers must be cleaned. "Just out for a stroll?"

R'zel returns the salute and peers curiously at the iced concoction. "That's tempting, if it's got some flavour. I had a redfruit one once, but it was a bit insipid. And I'm fine, thanks. Good to have a day off, isn't it? Thread permitting," because there's always the risk of a surprise Fall, "I'm going to visit my parents later on, but they won't be up yet." Unlike most other people on the planet, dragonriders have to think about time zones. "How about you - how are you and Niamyth settling in?" He leans on the railing alongside the greenrider.

Rocio leans forward just a tad and grips the edge of the wooden railing with her hands, her sandaled toes pointing inward in the process. "Yup, it's a fine day t' be on the boardwalk. I missed people watchin'. Can't really let your guard down in Igen's Bazaar else your pockets will get picked." Or you'd get mugged, but that goes unsaid. A deep breath is inhaled through her nose and the pleasant aroma of Southern's ocean air fills her lungs. "We're good, Nia 'n me. Serval's been good t' us, too, and Rielle's been sweet as pie. Never had a wingleader like her before, it's refreshin'." A beat, "Where do your folks live?"

"Harper Hall - my mother and her husband are there, with my brother. Not surprisingly, they're harpers," R'zel adds with a grin. "Except Morrie, who's quite certain that he's going to be one as soon as he's old enough." He frowns a little, as if something's just occurred to him. "Which won't be long now, I suppose, if they do to him what they did to me. He can't wait to start, anyway. Where did you come from, originally?"

"Ooooh, Harpers. I like Harpers." Especially Southern's Weyrharper because Tristram is so above and beyond dreamy. Again… that goes unsaid. Ahem. Rocio grins as she stares at the crowd of people bustling about the boardwalk — naturally, she's thinking of all the Harpers she's had crushes on in the not-so-distant past. Tristram, T'ral, T'zaim, and Abrehan are only a few to name. Niamyth twinkles somewhere within the back of Rocio's mind and the greenrider is brought back into the moment. "Me? I'm from Keroon, originally. We moved t' Southern when I was sixteen and my family lives in a cothold on the northern end of the river." She nods her chin in its general direction. "I got three older brothers and I'm the only dragonrider in the family." Lucky her, eh?

R'zel doesn't actually know about Rocio's crush on his former partner-in-mischief, but perhaps that's as well for Abrehan. "Oh, right, so you were here before you Impressed. Sounds like a nice family. Mine's a bit more complicated - you know how dragonrider families go." Not that he's mentioned a dragonrider yet, so he explains, "Father's at Telgar - he's got a brown. And a weyrmate. I've got three half-sisters and a baby brother there. But I grew up at Harper Hall, and before that on posting with Mother."

"Jeez, I never put two and two together. I never knew you were a Harper." Rocio looks impressed for a moment and straightens a little. "What was your speciality? Teachin'?" There are so many specialities a Harper can choose from, yet she always seems to go googly-eyed over the archivists in particular. Must be she has A Thing for brainy types. Niamyth twinkles a little brighter in the back of Rocio's mind and she is promptly squished out of her thoughts. "I come from a long line of hunters. Before I Impressed Nia, I used t' make a lot of trips t' the Hold deliverin' hides and meat for the kitchens." She pauses a moment. "Come t' think of it, I ain't been t' the Hold in Turns."

R'zel shakes his head as if to deny a teaching specialty, but what he says is, "I didn't really have one. Technically I was on a double of education and instrumental performance, but I'd have ended up teaching if I'd got as far as walking the tables. Getting searched while I was a Senior Apprentice was a lucky escape. I'd had enough of harpering by then." He gives a wry chuckle. "Funny thing is, I enjoy my music more now than I did then." He pauses a moment, eyes turned towards the sea. "Southern Barrier Hold, that was? Well, it's a nice change at this time of year. You should go."

Rocio hops down from her perch upon the railing and brushes her hands together "Yeah? You ever play at the Treble Clef?" A beat, "Or do ya just like t' listen t' music now? I ain't never tried playin' an instrument before." Mostly because she's never had an interest in doing so. She's always been too busy exploring the outdoors to settle enough focus on lessons. Having been sitting in the sun for a while, she's opting for some shade so she begins to slowly wander toward a booth with an awning. Maybe there will be some waterskins there, too. "Yeah, good ol' Southern Barrier Hold. Maybe on my next restday."

R'zel nods, and pushes off from the railing so that he can amble alongside Rocio. "Yes, I do a set at the Clef every two or three sevendays" He adjusts the brim of his hat as he reconsiders. "More like three, since I've been wingsecond. Gitar or mandolin - I'm not much of a singer any more. I built the mandolin since I've been here, too." He grins. "Keeps me out of mischief." As if being a wingsecond wasn't enough to keep him safely busy.

Rocio can't help but snicker at the idea of her singing. "Noooo one wants t' hear me sing anythin', THAT's for sure." She can barely keep a tune when she whistles and even that's a stretch to think about. A few marks are handed over to a vendor and she accepts a cupful of ice cold juice to keep them underneath the awning for a little while longer — hey, she's a paying customer and can't be shooed away. Logic, Ro has it. "Mischief? You don't seem like the type, R'zel." See how she hides her smirk right before taking a long siiip of her drink.

R'zel tucks himself under the awning too. He's with her, and she's a paying customer, so that's all right. Isn't it? "You didn't know me when I was at the Hall - ask Abrehan. Or better still, don't." He's grinning - is it at the thought of past exploits? "Quite a reformed character, I am!" His attention is distracted by something unheard. "Verokanth says you shouldn't believe that." Which could be taken more than one way. "So what do you do when you're off-duty?"

"I'll take your word for it." Rocio says after taking another sip of juice. The glint in her eyes says that's she's amused and is no doubt storing the fact that R'zel was a former mischief maker somewhere in her memory. Niamyth will also twinkle at the new information and sends a little glowbug to trace the very edge of Verokanth's mindscape to show that she, too, is paying attention to her lifemate's conversation. "I like t' be outdoors doin' somethin'. Huntin' for Nia, or visitin' home. Just bein' in the fields or in the jungle is therapeutic t' me. It's… kinda hard t' explain, I guess."

R'zel nods. "You're more the outdoors type than me, then. I'd rather-" What he'd rather do will remain a mystery, as a brown firelizard pops out of Between at this point and flaps vigorously above R'zel's head. "That's Rukkie - he's my mother's. Faranth, they're early risers." He holds up a hand, and the lizard lands. R'zel holds him close to his chest with one hand and pulls a scrap of hide from the message tube on his leg. He reads it aloud. "Come to breakfast? There's news!" His face breaks into a beaming smile. "Sounds like they got up early so they'd have breakfast at my lunchtime. And I wonder if she's got her Mastery at last. The Hall's been dragging its heels about it for Turns." He gives the lizard some concentrated attention for a few moments, then releases him. The little brown climbs and vanishes. "I'd better be moving."

Rocio waves R'zel onward with her free hand and gestures in the opposite direction with the hand that holds her cup of juice to indicate where she's headed. "Best get movin' then. Don't wanna keep momma waitin'!" A grin follows that statement and she's already stepping out from underneath the awning. "I'll be seein' ya Mischief Maker!" A moniker, that. Lucky him! It doesn't take her long to mosey off into the hustle and bustle of the boardwalk to continue her people watching from a new perch.

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