I'dre, Ryott, Zetali


Trying to keep one's name to oneself is a game in itself.


It is sunset of the twenty-second day of the eleventh month of the fifteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Standing Stones, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 31 Dec 2018 05:00



"And who're you?"


Standing Stones

It is perhaps a pity that the Standing Stones lie in quiet isolation, half-forgotten in the Weyr's easternmost corner. Or perhaps it is inevitable: the grandiose beauty of these red rocks is ill-suited to Igen's coarse grit, and maybe only their loneliness allows them to survive unmarred. Whatever the reason, it cannot be denied that the Standing Stones, a lonely jumble of ancient boulders, have a glory about them. The tumbled field of pillars and arches has been shaped by eons of wind and water into strange shapes, twisted and rutted. The going is treacherous: only the Weyr's half-feral herd of caprines navigates the terrain with any ease. To the northwest, the lakeshore glimmers; to the east, rough-carved steps lead towards another ancient pile of rocks - though the Star Stones are less haphazardly placed than their Standing cousins.

It is the fifty-second day of Autumn and 78 degrees. The day dawns bright and clear. Everything is coated in sand, but no clouds linger on the horizon.

When it's been nothing but clear skies and mild weather, it's no better time to be outdoors! Especially in a desert climate like Igen is, these days are to be cherished! Even if most of the daylight hours are spent working, in drills, in training or any variety of routine activities that may befall any weyrfolk or rider. I'dre has spent much of his day between caring for Mhiruth, drills and, of course, his training as a dragonhealer. It's… slow going and thanks to Threadfall, there's never a shortage of patients that even a newbie trainee can learn from. Despite how trying the day may have been, the bluerider is in decent spirits even as he trudges his way up one of those narrow pathways. It's not the ideal location he'd prefer but it's quiet and that's all I'dre wants right now. Quiet. The added bonus is the view, of course and the setting sun! Which may explain why he choses to lean up against a particular spire facing towards the lakeshore and reach for the flask hidden in the inner pocket of his jacket.

Seems the Standing Stones are a popular spot seeking quiet, especially if one is also an adept climber. Perched atop what was once a natural archway, hidden in some long shadows, Ryott is not far from the spire I'dre is leaning against, also enjoying the view of the sunset with a glassy stare that betrays her thoughts are far away. Concealed among the stony formations, quiet in their shadowy perches, her fair are doing their job as sentinels and she gets an image of I'dre from Bedlam that seems to snap her back into reality. Shifting slightly, she leans foward, grabbing onto the edge of the monolith she is sitting on. When she catches sight of him, she bites down on her lower lip and lets out a practiced whistle in his direction, although it does bounce and echo a little on the way to him.

Got to love the acoustics! I'dre doesn't seem much of a fan, from the way he nearly jumps out of his skin. His flask is almost dropped in the process, which earns a growled curse. Lifting his head, it takes him a moment to pinpoint the source. He doesn't have the advantage of firelizards to help him and Mhiruth is too far away (and sleeping). Ryott will be spotted and once he does catch sight of her, he glares at her. "How in Faranth's name did you get up there, kid? You part caprine?" He's quick to tease, even if his voice carries a gruffer edge. Dressed comfortably against the cooling weather, he's dressed casually again, though his jacket may be of some interest as it does seem more fitting to a rider to wear (but doesn't exactly scream RIDER).

Ryott may secretly enjoy the way I'dre startles at her whistle, but, except for a ghost of a smirk, she doesn't seem to outwardly show her amusement. When he finally catches sight of her, she just leans forward and waggles her fingers lazily down at him. Looking around herself at his question, as if confused, "I just climbed…" Isn't that obvious? How else would she get up here. Gruff edge or not, Ryott rises to stand right at the edge of the stone, not at all bothered by the height, hands on her hips as she looks down at the man she's run into a couple times now. Dressed much the same as the last time they met, her movements are unhindered by clothes that fits her like a second skin as she carefully picks her way down to the ground, hopping from one stone to the next until she has to lower herself over an edge and dangle before releasing to drop a few feet to the ground, landing with a practiced bend of her knees. Straightening, she saunters casually over to I'dre and eyes his flask, "You wouldn't be able to spare a sip would ya?" she asks, bold as brass.

"Of course you did." I'dre doesn't exactly roll his eyes but there's enough sarcasm dripping from his voice to make up for it. Since his drinking was interrupted, he'll take a sip from that flask as Ryott takes her time coming down from above. If he's notice the change in her clothing tastes, he makes no comment on it. Well, maybe that smirk is saying something? Who knows. There's no mistaking the scoff he gives her request and the look that follows it. "Sorry, kid. No dice." He'll make sure to tauntingly tip the flask back one more time to his lips before recapping it and tucking it away. "It's nothing you'd want, anyhow."

Sarcasm may be noted or not, it's not readily apparent as Ryott finds her own slab of rock to lean up against, her dark brows furrowing slightly as she crosses her arms over her chest. "Not even a sip? Trust me, I've had way stronger than whatever you may have there." It could be a boast, but there is really no hint of exageration in her tone as she narrows her gaze briefly on the man. It lingers on him, sweeping up and then down again, not in a lewd way, but cold observant, maybe making note of the cut of his jacket, or any number of other small details about him; her face reamins impassive. This time it's Ryott's turn to roll her eyes, "Sheesh, getting real sick of people telling me what I want. And I'm not a kid." Was that a bit of a bite on her last? Maybe a bit of a raw nerve showing itself.

I'dre doesn't look sold on that bold claim by Ryott but he does smirk wryly. "Good for you? Still doesn't mean I'm gonna let you have a sip. Next thing I know, you'll be tripping over your own feet on these narrow paths and how am I gonna explain things when I drag your sorry ass to the Healers?" His shoulders lift in a helpless shrug and when he catches her giving him the cold once-over, he spreads his arms out in an indifferent gesture. Like what you see? "Yeah, you are," he quips back, as he folds his arms back over his chest and looks all too haughty while at it. "To me. I mean, you come up to what… my chest, at best? You're like a kid sister, if I had a sister." He frowns for a moment, but it's all in mocking play. "… maybe I do?" He mumbles, only to shrug again dismissively and sigh. "Damned if I know."

"You think I'm gonna get tipsy off a sip of whatever you have stashed in that flask of yours?" Ryott asks incredulously with an exasperated look in I'dre's direction. For a second, it almost looking like the girl is about to retort sharply, the way her eyes narrow, fists clench and lips twitch. But she seems to get a handle on herself and instead forces herself to relax against the stony prop supporting her leaning form. "So just cause I'm short then? If you haven't noticed girls are often shorter that you guys," she talks slowly and deliberately with a zing of sarcasm mixed in as she huffs, running a hand through her hair as if indifferent, but someone observant might note irritation as well. Stalking towards I'dre now, she grumbles under her breath, "So what age exactly does one stop being a kid, cause I was hoping, at almost 16, I would be past long past 'kid'." she spats distastefully. Strangely open, maybe it's their shared anonymity that encourages the zingari girl's oversharing.

I'dre's grin says it all in answer to Ryott's exasperated look. He doesn't seem the least bit concerned either, when she visibly bristles, keeping to a relaxed posture as he leans nonchalantly against that spire of stone. "I happen to be taller than most guys too. Lucky me?" he remarks dryly, only to smirk again. "You act young. Tough, sure but your little outbursts aren't just short temper spats…" He'd know, being the king of short fuses! Blinking as she stalks towards him, he tilts his head and considers her question. His answer is lacking much in heavy teasing, though his tone hints at some bemusement. "Sixteen is still young. At least in my mind. I was hardly 'grown up' at that age and I know rare few who are. Might act it but…" He gives a wishy-washy gesture of his hand. Unpredictable! "I'll take you more seriously when you hit eighteen. Since I'm twenty-four, you'd be a little bit closer to that gap. Could probably really convince folk then that you're twenty!"

"Some people never get a chance to jump that hurdle." The voice belongs to another dragonrider, but this time it' s a young woman's voice. The approaching footfalls are neither heavy nor soft, somewhere in the middle as the dragonrider picks her way over the rough terrain. "I mean, my own brother swears I'm a kid. I managed to drag myself through weyrlinghood, but I guess that doesn't count for much." Zetali's observation is obnoxiously cheerful as she hauls herself up the closest thing that serves for a path to where I'dre and Ryott are. No caprine, she, but it looks like she has a knack for climbing around. Maybe it's all that practise scaling Mt. Odskovith to do scrubbing and oiling. "Heeey. I'dre. Got anything left in that flask? It's thirsty work getting up here." Well isn't she just Miss Familiar? The brown-haired, green-eyed rider is wearing her leathers, but she's at least taken the time to throw her hair into a quick-and-dirty braid. I'dre, it might be noted, is given a once-over coolly, as though gauging whether he's in a temper or not.

"I….act young?" Ryott seems to deflate a little bit at that, stopping in her tracks. Turning slightly, she hugs her arms around her torso with what might be a wistful sigh, which isn't exactly in character for the spyling girl. She's still listening to the bluerider's words, just about to reply with lips parted in readiness when she freezes at a strange new voice. Reaching out to her blue and gold spies, she's given an image of the brownrider and squints slightly, not recognizing her. "Well I expect it from siblings, but people who've never met me even…There's gotta be something I'm missing.." Y'know, aside from those very perceptive comments by I'dre. When Zetali comes into view, she turns her head just enough to catch sight of her. When she hears her address the man by name, her dark eyes spark with interest briefly, hmmmm… so he's a rider huh? That interesting. Finding a nearby boulder, she hops up onto, pulling one leg up against her chest as she watches the two riders interact quietly. Don't mind her, just pretend she's not even there.

"Mhm. Don't take it so hard?" I'dre might not look regretful for poking mercilessly at Ryott about her age, but maybe there's a teeny hint of it there. Just a itty bitty sliver! Then a third voice is joining in on their conversation and he's straightening, no, maybe stiffening a bit in easily read tension. Which eases in the next breath, as he scoffs and shakes his head. Clearly, Zetali is familiar to him but Ryott will catch the fall of his expression to something of disappointment when his name is so-casually tossed out there. Well, that game is up! So he just smirks at the young Zingari as she moves away and reaches back into his pocket. "Here." He gruffly mutters towards the brownrider, while tossing his flask without warning in her direction. "Catch, Zetali!" Is he in a bad mood? Hardly. Though he's gauging her too for a moment, since he hasn't forgotten how their last unfortunate meeting went. Not surprising, if Zetali does sample that flask, it is definitely alcoholic.

The brownrider folds her arms, looking more relaxed than the bluerider. It's possible she meant what she said about the juggling of responsibility — namely, that he isn't her responsibility any more, and no longer does she seem to care about what he does with his free time. The knot on her shoulder bears the colours of Arroyo Wing. Those sea-green eyes linger on Ryott, even as the Zingari scuttles up onto a nearby boulder with enviable agility. Dang, if she could climb like that, getting up here would've been so much easier. Her attention shifts back to I'dre, though, just in time to snatch the flask out of the air. Good reflexes. "Thanks." Is he in a bad mood? Maybe. But she doesn't look like she'd particularly care unless Odskovith was ranting about it in her head, which he isn't; indeed, his silhouette is visible in the sky, wheeling and flying nearby to his lifemate for the sheer joy of it. (Suggesting that he learn how to do a flawless pivot on a wingtip sounded like a good idea at the time, because it keeps him out of trouble. Mostly.) Zetali settles for a pull. She looks relaxed, although a lot of the time she's good at projecting that impression, with an easy smile and often casual posture. "I grew up with seven sibs, dragonman. You're not going to out-reflex me. Not today, anyway." The flask is tossed back, and she thumbs at the boulder with a quirked eyebrow of 'and what is this??' before turning to face Ryott. "And who're you?"

Catching when I'dre shoots that glance her way, Ryott just tilts her head with a mildly amused smirk playing at the outer corners of her lips and lifts her brows a little bit in acknowledgement. The game may be up for him, but she can still enjoy her own litle bubble of anonymity. She watches with some longing as the flask gets tossed at, then caught by, Zetali, letting her eyes grow round as she sits up just a little bit straighter and leans just a little forward and….the brownrider just tosses the flask right back at I'dre. Shard and blast them all. Ryott thinks before letting herself slump down again, shoulders drooping. Zetali's brag about her reflexes though, does have the particularly devious cogs turning in the girl's head. Hmmm… how could she test that? But she doesn't get too far in her plotting before Zetali flat out asks her who she is. "I'm…just here enjoying the view," she says, swiveling her gaze out where the sunset is no more than a red and orange glow on the horizon, the dark of night taking over the rest of the skies above.

Oh-ho! I'dre may have lost the 'name game' but as for the keep away game going on? Oh, he'll relish that obvious eagerness on Ryott's part and when Zetali tosses the flask back his way, he deftly catches it. Then he gives it a teasing little wiggle, along with a broad grin before it's tucked away. "Seven siblings? Damn, don't pity you for a second and I could have called have the creche my family when I was a kid. Not that I did." Technically, the Weyr IS his family, given he was fostered among the other weyrbrats and raised by those in charge of such things. "Keep dodging on sharing your name and I'm going to nickname you something other than 'kid'. Or maybe I'll just keep it that way? What do you think, Zetali? She's awfully short too. Shorty? Nah, too obvious…" He's smirking again and the look he casts Ryott is a mix of teasing and challenge. He can go all night with this! Only his attention is drawn away again, not by the sunset or the lakeshore in the far distance but towards the Weyr itself. His brows furrow briefly and then he exhales heavily as his attention focuses back on them both. "I need to get going. See you around, you two!" He certainly sounds confident that they'll cross paths again and without fanfare, he merely stuffs his hands in his pockets and starts to walk away; noticeably, his expression turns a touch grim.

Funny. She hadn't asked why the girl was up here, but what her name was. Being given a smokescreen of an answer is a little suspicious, but not enough to prompt any real action. Zetali folds her arms. "I was just here to stretch my legs. Passing through." She points up, to where the broad sweep of Odskovith's wings blot out the light of the stars; the dragon visible only by the omission of light. "I should probably get back up, though. It's not hard to want to be up there with him when he's having that much fun, and I was going to check in on Ja'un today." To the matter of nicknames, she only shakes her head and waves a hand dismissively, although her eyes flick back to Ryott, curious… before shrugging and turning her back on bluerider and shorty both. "It's all you, I'dre. I've got places to be~!" she singsongs, before ehading back down the slope, lifting a hand in farewell. "See you around, both of you." The others are dispersing, too, so she might as well head out before Odskovith notices she's down here and fusses at her over the potentiality of breaking a leg or something.

Narrowing dark gaze on the teasing wiggle of that flask, Ryott resists the urge to stick her tongue out in I'dre's direction, cause that at least she knows would come off as childish. Any suspicion she notices on Zetali's behalf is quickly brushed off. Being cryptic about her identity is one of the more tame things that Ryott gets up to anyway. People are too quick to share such personal information in her estimation. But then the riders are dispersing and the girl merely observes again without offering comment one way or another. She will offer them each a curt nod by way of farewell and she doesn't fully relax until they are both out of sight. When they are, she waits just a few moments longer before she two makes her descent, using the last of the light to make it safely back to the caravan grounds, her fair of five trailing after her.

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