Who

H'rik, Va'os

What

H'rik visits Va'os again. Beers are drunk on the beach.

When

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

Where

Beach, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 29 May 2018 23:00

 

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Beach

An eerie mirror, the glass-quiet Sea of Azov: the clear waters stretch along the dark-pebbled shores, and along this narrow beach. Here the faintest lap of waves belies the calm beyond; here the rocks have been ground down into finest, softest sand - those observant would mark upon the similarity between it and the sands of the hatching grounds. The soft sand soaks up summer sunlight as a sponge; painfully hot during the warmer months, it is only truly pleasant at wintertime. Rocks rise to east and west, lichen-limned and green against the abyssal darkness of stone.


Midmorning is the perfect time to find a spot to lounge on the beach… if you're looking to avoid the crowds. Or, in Va'os' case, potentially dodging a meeting (or two)! Nothing that can't be handled without him (sorry D'wane), but the Weyrleader has got in the habit of late of making time for himself. A little 'me time' never hurt, right? It's not like the Weyr will burn down if he decides to find a secluded spot, half in the shade, to just stare out over the waters for an hour. Maybe two, if he's feeling particularly lucky! He has no shame either and, from the looks of the bottle in his hand, has already decided to delve into the alcohol ? slowly! He's pacing himself or too distracted in his little personal bubble. Tsiroth isn't on the beach and, presumedly, back on the Sands or nearby to tend to Rhiscorath's needs like the (occasionally) good, responsible, bronze he is.

Avoiding meetings? Never! That's totally not what H'rik is doing in Southern, he's, uh, totally organised some spare time to go visit Southern. And, mostly importantly, Va'os! The fact he's arrived without Diem is probably the first hint that this is more of a social visit than a business one; the subtle clink of bottles in the satchel slung across his body. He's stripped off his riding jacket already, having left it with Wendryth, who remains just outside of the Weyr proper. H'rik already looks warm, the change from Igen's winter to this heat an alarming difference. A hand rests longingly on the satchel as he heads down the beach, spying what must have been the person he was looking for - a certain other young Weyrleader! "Va'os," H'rik greets warmly as he approaches, trying not to be too loud and attract too much attention to the two of them.

Va'os would be certain that he'd never hear the end of it, if he forgot an official visit from Igen's Leadership. While he can usually roll with the unexpected, he's not so confident that Mayte, D'wane, Amani and the rest of his crew wouldn't be caught off guard. There's probably protocols and whatnot and things to prepare, right? His name being called has him looking sharply to the source (probably readying to escape), only to have his shoulders sag in relief at H'rik's familiar face. "Well look who it is!" he tosses back, along with a lazy half-wave, half salute with his bottle holding hand. Sorry, what was that about loud? Va'os doesn't care; the few souls who are meandering about right now are too far away to hear them. Seeing them, however? Completely different ball game. "Was wondering when we'd get back to this! I'd have visited sooner but… Rhiscorath rose 'n you know how it goes." HIs broad grin is replaced by a grimace and a shrug. "Won't be much longer! So what's new in your neck of the woods… or desert, I guess?"

H'rik glances about, just for a moment, to gauge what company they may have. Seems like the coast is clear though, at least for a good conversation. He takes off the satchel, it clinking suspiciously as he sets it on the sand; then he rolls up his trousers to just below and knee and settles in the sand, pulling off his boots. Ahh, that's better! "Don't worry about it," he tells Va'os, grinning back. "Funny how busy this job is, huh?" He opens the satchel, and produces two bottles of Igen-brewed beer, still cold from whatever ice room he's taken it from. One is offered to Va'os (never mind the fact he already HAS a bottle in hand), and H'rik will uncap his to take a good glug. This gives him a moment to consider his reply to Va'os, as well as refreshing him. "Ah well - turns out the Weyr's not haunted, so there's that." The lighter news; the next is delivered still in a friendly tone, despite its more serious content. "A bad 'fall, recently. That's…gonna have some fallout, I think." He just has this feeling, creeping up his spine, about it. "You?"

"Guess that's the downfall of being the top rank, huh? All the shit comes to you first," Va'os remarks candidly and without filter. His curiosity will predictably shift to the contents of that satchel and he brightens considerably when the bottles are revealed. "I am really starting to love this exchange!" Which is his way of saying thanks. "So what'd you bring this time?" His bottle? Will be hastily finished. There wasn't much left anyways! Taking the offered bottle, there's an appreciative smirk that it's still cold. Uncapping it, he pauses to give H'rik a //look for his first comment. "Haunted? How the hell did that rumour come about?" His curious mind would like to know! Tipping back the bottle to his lips, he'll make an appreciative, grunted sound in the back of his throat, which turns more to a heavy sigh for the grimmer news. "Shit, man. Sorry to hear that… Those are some of the hardest. Y'think the blame is coming for you?" It's his first assumption! As for him? There's a pause as he runs his tongue over his teeth while pondering. "Well… recently had our two golds rise but y'already knew about the one. Lately been having some cons thinking they can pawn off subpar Craft items. Smith, wood, leather… So having to deal with that now. And before all that? Was losing riders left 'n right. Not to 'Fall, either." His expression turns grim, troubled. "Lots of us, even weyrfolk 'n other innocents were getting sick. Long story… but turns out it was our former Headwoman. She'd gone completely mad." Va'os even makes the gesture with his hand. "Was poisoning the lot of us. Had a hell of a row with Mayte over what to do with her. Surprised I'm still Weyrleader, to be honest!" That, at least, brings back some humour, if still a touch strained.

H'rik hasn't had neough to drink yet to be on the same level of informal language as Va'os, but he's working on getting there! "Just a little local beer, nothing fancy. Great cold on a hot day," he notes, lifting his bottle in a little toast of sorts, his grin reduced to a more placid smiles as they get the serious topics discussed and - hopefully - out of the way so they can get to drinking and sunbathing. "The blame's gotta go somewhere, right?" Is the Igenite's comment as to his situation. "Why not the one in charge of the Wings?" Va'os, apparently, has also been having a rough time of it, and H'rik grimaces at the things he's had to deal with. "Never a dull moment." It's said without a trace of humour, and he knocks back some more of his beer, hissing out a sigh as he looks over at Va'os, forcing a smile back onto his face if nothing else but to try and lift the Southern's spirits. "They'll get over it. They usually do, when a shit decision has to be made." Oh hey, there's the first swear from H'rik! Taking a leaf out of Va'os's book?

The terrible thing is, is that Va'os isn't anywhere near drunk or even buzzed! That's just how he is… around people he figures he can get away with it. He'll tip his bottle back in a return toast to the Igen Weyrleader, "Appreciate it, all the same! You were smart to come here early… it's going to get a lot more humid later." Summer in Southern is nothing to shake a stick at! He scoffs, somewhat bitterly, as his assumption is confirmed. "Yeah but there's riders in charge of those Wings too and even they aren't to always blame! Not to speak ill of the dead. Mistakes happen!" he shakes his head and spreads his hands helplessly. "But good luck getting 'em to understand that, eh?" Aww, is Va'os slowly corrupting H'rik? He's so proud! It's not the time to be grinning, but he'll grin for the other bronzerider's cursing. "Guess you're right. On both counts!" Of there being no dull moments and that folk move on (forgiveness is another thing). Knocking back another sip of that beer, Va'os is content to let the conversation shift away from grittier topics. If there's one thing he enjoys about non-formal visits from H'rik? Is that they can talk.

"That's when I'll escape back to Igen," H'rik grins. Presumably after he's finished his beers. Because yes, the satchel appears to have more bottles in it - it's not empty yet. Best drink them quick, right, so they don't get too hot in the sun? He seems to look like he agrees with Va'os's opinions, nodding along with him, even if H'rik doesn't voice his own thoughts. "Yeah. I'm hoping it'll blow over, once the initial shock's done with." Wishful thinking? Too early to say. He swigs his beer, glad that the conversation chugs onwards. "So how many eggs'd Tsiroth get on the sands this time? Are we supposed to have some contest about our bronzes' prowess?" He's grinning as he says it, clearly joking about the whole thing - but he's also curious!

If they're going to drink that much, that fast… neither of them are going to be going anywhere fast! Good friends don't let their friends fly drunk! Va'os grimaces and tips his bottle again in some form of a toast. "Best of luck! And hopefully Igen's not hit with anymore misfortune." Don't worry, H'rik. You can always blame him later for jinxing you. He laughs genuinely for the suggestion of contests and his good humour returns with it. "Forty eggs even! No visible gold egg. Not a bad number, for his second clutch sired. You think Wendryth's going to catch again? Or are you hoping to pass the knot on to some other unfortunate ba— uhh… rider."

Oh nooo, they'll just have to stay on the beach and relax. Sounds awful! H'rik brings his bottle up to tap it against Va'os's. "And to you and Southern!" Double jinx? His eyebrows lift in appreciation of Va'os's good, even number! "Golds happen when you need them, right? Wendy's last was twenty-three…I blame the snow, personally." That weird snow that decided to fall on Igen just after the clutching! Ominous. He grins slyly at Va'os's near slip of the tongue, sipping his beer casually. "I guess we'll see if Zsaviranth is fed up of him. She seems pretty content at the moment, but y'never know with golds, I guess."

Pure torture, is what'll be! Va'os grins as the bottles clink together. Do double jinxes cancel each other out? We'll find out soon enough! "It would seem so! Not sure what exactly compels them to clutch another gold. Just chalked it up to luck or, like you said… necessity. Dragons don't work the same way though as, say, breeding for coat color in a foal." Leave it to him to put it quite like that! Now it's his turn to look intrigued again. "Snow? In Igen? Whoo, that must've freaked some folk out! That'd be like it snowing here… and not just further South." Right about now, snow would be welcomed! Alas… He snorts, bemused, as he lifts the bottle to his lips again. "Nope. They'll make up their own minds about it. It's been awhile though, hasn't it? Was it only the one clutch recently?"

"Yeah." Dragons. Is there anyone who truly understands how they work? Especially when it comes to colour distributions in clutches. H'rik can't help but laugh at Va'o's reaction to Igen's snow. "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself!" He says, adding: "not that it was much of a snowstorm. Barely hung around more than the next morning, if I remember right." He half closes an eye, thinking about the clutches since that one. "Yeah…I guess Nasrin's gold'll probably be the next to go up. But, maybe the golds sort that out between themselves." There's a waggle of his eyebrows at the idea of this odd, female arrangement.

Va'os' grin is still firmly in place when H'rik laughs. "Still! Maybe that did have something to do with it… I'm sure there was plenty of good gossip about it." The kind he likes to listen to and inwardly roll his eyes over! There's another snickered breath and then more of a laugh for the last bit, "If golds are anything like true women… Yeah, I'd not be surprised!" It's all said in jest, of course. Maybe? Finishing off the last of his beer, he'll set that empty bottle alongside the one he drained earlier. Shifting, he'll stretch out his legs for a moment before settling more comfortably. "Guess we'll find out? Though for your sake, I hope they space 'em out a bit. Back to back clutches aren't so bad? But personally… I like the gap between the whole proddy business and then the flight."

A conversation about beer and women (sort of)! It's almost like they're normal dudes, just hanging out together. H'rik, as if spurred on by Va'os finishing his beer, drains his and reaches for two more from the satchel, one of which will make its way to Va'os. "Yeah. Makes it a bit easier only having the two golds, I guess. Must be crazy if there're four or five all fighting to go up." He shakes his head in dismay at the thought of that situation. "Still, can't live without 'em." And as Weyrleaders, they're sort of pulled along for the ride, in his view!

That's the whole point! Va'os isn't serious unless he absolutely must be (and even then attempts to half ass it). It's not like he'll just sit back and shoot the breeze with any Weyrleader (or Weyrsecond)! Doubt that any of the others are this… welcoming. Tolerant would be another good word, too! He'll murmur his thanks for the second bottle, but this one will be nursed a little slower. Wouldn't do to be too drunk to at least walk back to the Weyr! Even if it'd make great gossip that someone (or several folk) had to come collect them both. Political scandal? Who said that? "Oh shit, could you imagine? Five golds? First of all… not gonna complain about the lust part. But damn, that's a lot of clutches. And probably a population boom of the human kind in nine months, give or take." He smirks, then laughs, leaning in a bit in an attempt to elbow H'rik. Eh, get it? "Bet they burn through Weyrlingmasters really fast too. Oh, speaking of! Y'ever meet a greenrider in Igen? Rocio, by name?" And so begins the back and forth conversation! It'll go on like this for however long. Either they'll be pulled away by duty or they really WILL get drunk and have to cat-nap right there. Because that won't arouse suspicion, right?

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