Bailey, Raktraeth


Some dragon steals some tree and some weyrwoman gets mad about it.


It is the seventh day of Autumn and 78 degrees.


Hillside Path, Southern

OOC Date 12 Oct 2017 05:00


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Hillside Path

Winding around the mountain, the pathway is not buried within the jungle as some of the other, more overgrown pathways may be. Instead, the relatively easy little dirt trail-head is bordered by stones buried in clinging greenery, with lichen and other moss and fungus holding fast to their stony faces. The dirt is loamy, easy to walk on, and provides a good grip to those who would walk barefoot through the pathways that lead down to the river's edge. The pathway itself is a series of switchbacks to allow for an easier time climbing and descending. In the distance to the east, the winding Black Rock River beckons.

Oh look, a nice quiet path around Southern Weyr! Or at least it was quiet. A somewhat ominous thud is heard from the edge of the jungle. The age old question of 'if a tree falls in the forest and nobody is around to hear it…' is probably irrelevant. Raktraeth at least was around to hear it because the behemoth brown was the one making the noise. And he seems pretty content with that because he's now heading back to the path, dragging an equally behemoth tree with him.

Why is Bailey here and why is Khaly not? It's a great question. Every scene starts with a question of 'why is this person here' and 'what circumstance got them there', and hardly ever is it truly answered. Because Bailey's not answering any questions. She's standing with her hands on her hips staring up at the huge-ass brown dragging the huge-ass tree and she glares upwards at the former. "What are you doing?" she calls, because Raktraeth is absolutely not one of her own. She knows.

Does Bailey ever really need a reason why she's anywhere at this point? Especially in Southern where her reasons for being anywhere can be answered with 'It's here own damn Weyr.' Anyways, Raktraeth is most definitely here and his rider is most definitely not for some reason. She's probably busy staring at a tree of her own. Namely that crazy tree growing up through the middle of the Archives. But this particular dragon has some very important dragon business to go about. At least, until all forward momentum is suddenly halted by that one question. Khaly might not be in view physically, but telepathy is a strange and wonderful thing and so he knows that this is the Weyrwoman. There's no 'who me gesture' from Raktraeth. Nope. The brown is just going to calmly stand there and point his snout at the tree he's been dragging around. It's kind of obvious what he's doing, right?

Oh, the benefits of basically being a sovereign entity… don't tell Khaly, it goes to her head. "Is that yours?" Bailey demands, her hands still on her hips, chin tilted arrogantly upward at the beast. "Do they not teach little dragonets in Igen to not take what isn't theirs?" The redheaded woman finally starts coming closer to the tree, furrowing her eyebrows in consternation. There's a slow amount of alarm slowly filtering into her current suspicious expression.

Raktraeth tilts his head slowly towards the side, peering down at Bailey as he considers her accusations and then looks back at his tree. Because as far as the dragon is concerned, it is his. Personal property is a pretty loose subject in the weyrling curriculum. It should probably be focused on more. Although the dragons would conveniently forget it immediately. Very tentatively, Raktraeth opens up the forests of his mind towards the weyrwoman. No words. Just acres upon acres of massive trees. Larger even than the one he's just claimed. Towering trees. Although, those were more pine-needly than the broad leaves of this Southern giant.

"Qianva…" Bailey starts to say, her brows furrowing with abrupt consternation, before she takes a second look at this damn dragon. "No, you're not." She circles him briefly, as if to convince herself that he's not, in fact, a bronze. Once that's satisfied, she points at him accusingly. "You don't need any more trees! You have plenty of your own!"

This brown is indeed brown and not bronze. He's big enough that it can be an understandable mistake sometimes. And oh, sad Raktraeth is sad. He'll share some real pictures this time. Of Igen. Look at how sandy and COMPLETELY TREELESS IT IS!!!! IT'S SO SAD!!!! He'll even give a little sad croon and sniff at his tree. Can't he keep it? PLEASE, mom?

"That's not my fault," Bailey refutes. "Leave the fucking desert if you hate it so much. That's what we did." Khalyssrielth is distant, but the press of her ice and iron comes — delayed, enriched with humor, ensorceled with a spray of lightning-brilliant sparks: clearly not her own but a rare viewing of her own lifemate's inner mentalities. Bailey is a wildfire looking for tinder. "Is this…" she starts to say, a greater realization dawning as she looks down at the tree. "Is this the shade tree from the river clearing?!" her voice has gained in volume and outrage both.

There are many reasons why Raktraeth won't leave the desert, but he's not going to get into that now. It can be assumed most of them are Doji-related. Maybe also a small bit is the misconception that if he can take this tree with him, he might be able to start a forest of his own in Igen. He can have dreams, guys. As Khalyssrielth makes her presence known, the forest opens up a bit. Ice forms on the higher branches in an homage to the icy queen. And the sparks can look for tinder, but brush fires are good for the circle of life, don't you know. Gotta keep the undergrowth cleared out somehow. Those massive forest giants are built to withstand the sparks and flames. « It is a very nice tree. » It's a soft response, to both queen and rider. Where is Doji in all this? Still blissfully unaware.

"It WAS a very nice tree!" Bailey reacts, her arms flailing around wildly in an effort to push the thought at Raktraeth. "It was! NOW IT'S DEAD!" She points another accusatory finger at the brown. "If you love trees so much WHY WOULD YOU KILL ONE?!" It's really a night for exclamation marks. And small brush fires. Khalyssrielth finds nothing out of whack, sends a low tendril of wholly inappropriate approval to the brown (she loves browns), and retreats to wherever the hell she is.

Look, the tree still has it's roots! Raktraeth is going to nose at the bottom part of the tree. He may have been loud in his uprooting, but he was somewhat careful. As careful as you can be with no tools except for your giant self to get a tree down. As for why he would knock a tree down and drag it around (Trae will argue that he hasn't actually killed it), more pictures of Igen form. This time, the sands are not completely barren. Around an oasis, the GIANT FUCKING TREE has been planted. And apparently thriving. Also, there are two redheaded riders that Bailey wouldn't actually recognize, but they're also surrounded by a horde of small redheaded children. Some are climbing the tree. There's a rope swing out over the oasis. It's a family paradise. That's why Raktraeth needed the very lovely tree. And Raktraeth will brush back with some golden sunlight to Khalyssrielth's approval. He thinks she's a very lovely lady. With very lovely trees. Most hospitable.

"THAT'S NOT HOW THIS WORKS. THAT'S NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS!" says the tertiary redheaded rider to this fantasy of Raktraeth's, her arms windmilling again. Bailey, agitated. "It might be alive for the next two hours, but unless you somehow grow THUMBS and REPLANT IT, it's going to die. What do you think happens to wood in between?!" so many exclamaion points

Have you ever seen a nearly seventy foot long dragon cower from a woman's windmilling arms? Cause that's exactly what Raktraeth is starting to do, trying to position the tree trunk between himself and Bailey. « I was going to replant it. » That was pretty crucial to his whole plan. « And people and dragons can go between. And sometimes wherries. » Look, there was that one time… or several times… where Raktraeth and a certain bronze brother may have had plans involving wherries and alcohol. Enough so that he knows some wherries will survive a trip between. For reasons.

"You might have missed the memo," Bailey, absolutely not a woodcrafter scathingly replies, "But trees are not humans!" Or dragons. Or wherries. Or bronzen brothers REALLY good at getting into trouble. Bailey, definitely not a farmcrafter, deflates while her expression slowly rotates to a defeated, sad look for the (presumably close to dead) tree. "It was such a good shade tree," she mournfully says.

Raktraeth did conveniently miss that memo. Along with the one about not taking what doesn't belong to you. « Have you ever taken a tree between? » Cause Trae is still willing to try. He believes in himself and this tree. It will survive. And thrive. He doesn't have any thumbs to have a green thumb. Maybe he can borrow Vedziyath's green talons. With Bailey deflating and Khalyssrielth apparently not seeing anything wrong with this situation, Raktraeth is going to take that as permission to go on about his very important business. « And it'll be a good shade tree in Igen. » Because he believes. And he's going to start dragging the tree again. Slowly, cause even though he's big, it's still heavy.

"THAT'S NOT YOURS," Bailey goes off again at the drop of a hat, displaying a nimbleness that only comes from her grueling work with Kelvar day in and day out — jumping up to teeter-totter balance on top of the closest bit of tree trunk past the tangle of roots. "And it's not Igen's! Where is your rider?" It's only amazing that it's taken this long for Bailey to voice aloud a question of who the brown actually belongs to.

Isn't possession nine tenths of the law or something? Raktraeth still has a claw hold on the tree branch he was draggin even as Bailey is jumping up onto the trunk. It doesn't take long for the dragon to furnish the actual location of his rider. Predictably, in the Archive library, near that giant tree. Reading a pretty large tome on obscure threadfall formations that someone brought forward with them and stored down in the Southern library. But really, he gets distracted by that tree in the image. Ignore the redhead reading. Look at that tree. « That's also a very nice tree… » Maybe he should figure out how to get to that one…

"I will make a call to Diem RIGHT FUCKING NOW if you even think ONE MORE THOUGHT about stealing OUR FUCKING ARCHIVE TREE!" exclamation points AND all caps, it's where life is AT right now, y'know? It's just one of those nights. Bailey's glaring blue murder at Raktraeth.

Okay. So maybe Raktraeth won't think about stealing that tree. There were all sorts of logistical questions about how to get to it since it was indoors anyway. But then there's the whole matter of this tree. That's currently laying in the middle of the path. And apparently Bailey has already declared it dead. « I'll just clean up this mess then. » But he still doesn't believe it's a mess! He's going to bring it back to Igen (where it will die, because Igen's soil can't support a tree of that size, even near the oasis, but SSSSH. Don't tell Trae that).

"If you break it, you buy it." Bailey folds her arms across her chest — an impressive show of belief that Trae's not going to start dragging the tree that she's standing on right out from under her — and narrows her eyes in thought. This isn't going to end well for anyone. "What should I charge you for all of this dead lumber which was previously one of the weyr's favorite trees?" Her voice makes it all so… accusatory.

Raktraeth does have enough sense not to start dragging off the tree with the Weyrwoman still standing on top of it. He'll just plunk his behind down in the middle of the path. Between tree and brown dragon butt, hopefully nobody needs to get through. There are some very important negotiations happening here. Although… what does Raktraeth really have to offer? His eyes are whirling as he's thinking. « I have some rocks? They're pretty. » And they're no ordinary rocks. Apparently one of Doji's acquired new hobbies might have been some cave exploring or rock collecting because Trae's showing several geodes that have been opened up, revealing the green and blue and purple crystals within.

"Rocks. You're going to trade me rocks for a tree." Bailey's voice makes it sound like she doesn't think this is a fair trade at all. She thinks about it for an inordinately long amount of time, and then finally uncrosses her arms to fling her hands up. "FINE. But I like blue and purple, you hear me? I want something shiny as fuck." She hops down off the tree, then, and then just starts to walk away. She can be heard muttering as she leaves.

Bailey mutters "I can't believe fucking kids these days. Kids these days. Dragons that just think they can fucking come in and steal fucking trees and what the hell are they TEACHING in IGEN these days? A travesty. A real fucking travesty." to you.

You overhear Bailey mutter, "… … believe fucking … … … //Kids … … … that … think … … fucking come … and … … … … what … hell … they … … … these … … … … … fucking …" to herself.

And just imagine that conversation Raktraeth's about to have with Doji. « I have this tree now… And we owe the Weyrwoman some of the blue and purple rocks. And something Shiny as fuck… » But for now, he's just very content to start dragging of his tree towards the clearing. MISSION PART 1 IS A SUCCESS!!!

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