Who

Quynh, Zaria, Zetali

What

Routine ground crew duties for Quynh end in an unexpected offer…

When

It is afternoon of the twenty-second day of the fourth month of the seventeenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Lost Oasis, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 19 Jun 2019 04:00

 

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Lost Oasis

Blocked from view in the south by one of the largest sandstone formations jutting from the desert, this lovely oasis is truly a hidden jewel in the sand. Leagues away from any trace of civilization, it boasts a tranquil blue pool of fresh water and shallow stream fed by an unseen spring beyond a dark crevice in the bluff. Trees spring up against the rock, providing merciful shade and filling in the narrow recesses surrounding the water. The height of the outcropping funnels a near-constant light breeze through the place, cooling the air considerably in comparison to the desert beyond.

However, for all its beauty, there is an unaccountable air of fear and uncertainty about this oasis. At night, the otherwise friendly wind can cross the space with a low, unnerving howl, and creatures passing in the shadows do so in nervous, unseen movements. This has, unfortunately, been a place of grisly discoveries for Igen Weyr - most likely due to its out-of-the-way nature. Sweep riders have observed no renegades, bandits, or criminals of any other stripe in the area thus far, adding to the mystery here.


It's one of those pleasant Spring days, not too hot, but not too cold either. A touch of humidity from the puddles left by the overnight storm, but the bright rays of Rukbat are working at evaporating them. Even though this area of Igen's desert is well defended with sand grubs, meaning that the wings don't need to waste firestone defending it, there's still a need to make sure the little critters are doing their job properly, especially around this particular jewel in the middle of the endless sandy wastes. So a ground crew is dispatched after the silvery threads have stopped falling, and today it was Arroyo's turn to take the weyrfolk and their flamethrowers to the spot in question. Zaria is near the supplies they brought along for the crew checking things off a list, plenty of waterskins, a first aid kit, replacement tanks, everything they need for the hot, sweaty work ahead. Azrith has found himself a slab of sandstone to stretch bright indigo form in a fetching lounge.

There’s no question about it that Quynh put his name in to volunteer for this ground crew as well. He generally does, if there’s time and he’s not otherwise engaged in another work contract. Idleness doesn’t suit him well and this way his ‘debt’ to those sheltering him is repaid in his head. Riding on a dragon’s back is an experience he’s still adjusting too, but any adrenaline from the experience is well tempered. He’s here to do his job and he’ll do it well. Stepping close to where Zaria and Azrith are, he’ll begin to pick up the equipment he needs, along with a cloth to wrap around his head and cover the back of his neck. Even in spring, Igen’s sun is nothing to shake a stick at! “Ma’am.” he greets respectfully, low voiced and a modest salute following.

Being one of the bigger dragons of the wing, the hearty and enthusiastic Odskovith had volunteered to haul the biggest, heaviest loads out of the lot of it. With his work done, the big brown has decided to lounge out flat in the sun, indolent as a big cat and thrumming happily to himself. He's at his happiest when he's able to help people out, the big lug. He flicks the end of his overly long tail like a cat, and Azrith might notice a tickle of silk at the edge of his senses. «I just love a good sunny day.» Zetali, meanwhile, is waiting near where Zaria makes her list and checks it twice. She has her hands folded behind her back, at attention, and waits to see if there's anything else she can do to help Zaria out. Some might call her a kiss-up with the way she seeks out extra workloads, but really, she just likes being helpful.

With a puff of air out of the corner of her lips to dislodge the ginger lock that is falling just over her right eye, mildly irritating the bluerider as she continues to check things off the hide as the piece of hair flutters but then just flops back into place. She tucking it stubbornly behind her ear when Quynh comes up to get his equipment, a bit of a flustered smile aimed in his direction. "I don't know why I wanted to grow it out, but it's just got to the really annoying length," she explains awkwardly as she returns that salute back to the young man, then wondering why she said that in the first place and wondering if he secretly thinKs her strange now. Gotta love social anxiety! "Zaria is fine, really. And you are?" she asks, flipping to another list as she looks around and spots a distraction Zetali. "Everyone else unloaded?" she asks the brownrider.

“Ma’am.” Echoed again, a breadth delayed, as Quynh only spots the at-attention Zetali when his gaze lifts to Arroyo’s Wingleader. Blinking for the explanation, he’ll glance between bluerider and brownrider, before shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve seen some wear bands of cloth around their heads? For sweating. Maybe it works for the hair, too.” Not-so helpful, perhaps? He nods his head when Zaria supplies her name, lips pursing for a moment at the lack of formality. “Quynh.” He speaks little, but not rudely-so; it’s just in his nature. With the tank now slung over his shoulder and properly in place, he’ll adjust the nozzle. The other volunteers are doing the same, some conversation bubbling up. One pair nearby are whispering about the recent gossip of firestone. One sharp look from Quynh has them dispersing with awkward glances back at him. What’s up with that guy?

The brownrider's gaze flicks sidelong to watch Zaria addressing Quynh about her hair. Zetali snaps off a razor-sharp salute as soon as she sees Zaria's attention swing back over. She blinks, eyes sliding out of focus as she double-checks with Odskovith, and blinks hard as she nods. "Odskovith gives it the all-clear and says that should be everything. Apparently he had to double-check that, too. With everybody," she says, in a bland tone of affectionate resignation. "I don't doubt he's sure of it." Her eyes flick back to Quynh, those bright, sea-green eyes studying him intently for a few seconds. It might be unsettling to the timid, but her half-smile probably softens the edge of it. "Zetali," she adds for Quynh's benefit. She folds her arms, eyes sliding toward the errant chatter of firestone, expression turning into that of bland indifference. This might be interesting, and if it's anything more than idle gossip, it might be worth knowing… and she watches as the others abruptly clear away from Quynh, looking troubled. Most interesting.

"That could work," Zaria muses quietly at Quynh's idea of a cloth to hold back her uncooperative tresses. Zetali's report, Odskovith's by extension, is given a satisfied bob of the head in the younger rider's direction, "Good, good. Doesn't look like we forgot anything either, which almost never happens. So, yay us!" she replies with a nervous chuckle as she clutches the stack of hides to her chest. The gossiping weyrfolk are hardly given any notice since it seems to be what weyrfolk do best after all. But hazel eyes widen just slightly at the way the gossipers disperse at a look from Quynh, a sidelong glance to Zetali with a brow raised curiously. For his part, Azrith reaches out to Odskovith with a slightly fluffy touch, « Aye, the day is fine, but would be finer with a companion. » He's mainly speaking of the glowing green variety, his rider having been too busy to let him indulge in chasing as much as he'd want as of late. Zaria turns her attention back on Quynh with a considerate look, "So what do you do, Quynh. Well besides ground crewing of course…" she quantifies since that bit is pbvious.

There’s only the sound of metal, as Quynh adjusts his equipment again while the two riders talk amongst themselves. Ahead, the other ground crew have begun to fan out, most of them seasoned at this task. “Well met,” he returns the standard response to shared names, though his gaze has lowered for one last inspection. He’s heard Zaria’s question, but it takes him a heartbeat or two of silence to answer as he prioritizes, then gathers his thoughts to properly focus on them both. “I’m a labourer, ma’am. If there’s work to be done, I do it. Much of it is repair or mundane work.” he explains, sounding proud of what he does. He’s missed any of the curious exchanges between Zetali and Zaria about the gossipers dispersing.

Shifting her weight, the brownrider folds her arms, side-eyeing her wingleader and quirking her own brow in a sort of okay, that was actually weird, and it wasn't just me look. She watches the people that had scattered away from him, perhaps committing faces to memory. Odskovith, meanwhile, continues to lounge. He's far enough away from people that he can flop around all he wants. The warm earth feels good. The fluffy touch is countered with a brush of smooth satiny contentment. « If it's a good enough sun, that can wait. » He seems sun-drunk; content. Maybe he hasn't gotten to chase as much as he'd like, either. The satin frazzles a little and turns just a little bit scratchy. Undyed wool. « …Although a companion's not so bad, either… » Zetali, meanwhile, continues studying Quynh. She narrows her eyes a little as he goes about inspecting his gear. Her mouth pulls to one side in an expression of indecision, as though she were mulling over a tough decision, at about the same time her eyes slide out of focus again. Odskovith, over there, sprawls and rolls to present the other side of himself to the sun. Glorious day-star!

Silent communications with Zetali concluded, Zaria bobs her head in Quynh's direction at his answer, "That's…neat," she reaches for the first answer she could think of and delivers it with a smile, "I bet you're kept real busy." Small talk has never been the bluerider's forte. Azrith's mental chuckle is as smooth as the silk of Odskovith's mindtouch, « I don't think the sun was ever that good. » Even as some more of the ground crews head out to check for burrows, Zaria keeps an eye out on the supplies even as she studies Zetali studying Quynh, a cycle of study that has her frowning at the younger rider once more. You ok? she mouthes the words if she manages to catch Zetali's eye.

“Neat?” Whoosh! It goes right over poor Quynh’s head, what Zaria might be getting at. At least the rest is something he can immediately grasp and he nods with a faint smile. “Idle hands can only lead to trouble,” he admits, as if quietly reciting something from memory. “It’s enough that the Bazaar and the Weyr shelter me and I am given work to do. Doing this,” He’ll gesture with a tilt of his head to indicate the ground crew. “Is just further repayment.” Confident in his view, he seems awfully young to have such a mindset! Rolling his shoulders, he’ll nod to both women once more. Time to get to said ground crew! Pivoting, he starts to step away to find a path to trace and fan out from.

Over on the flats, Odskovith huffs a contented sigh, hot breath stirring up twin whirlwinds of dust. Truly, this is the life. Sunbathing in the middle of the desert on a nice spring day. It doesn't get any better than that, does it? « I guess so. But you don't have to chase it, either. » He rumbles, pleased. « And there's something to be said for that! » The brownrider sighs at Zaria's effort at small talk, low and resigned. That was pretty terrible even by her standards. When Zaria tries to get her attention, she twitches one shoulder in a shrug. Her gaze flits to her dragon, and her dragon flops his head over to cock a big whirling eye at Azrith, at the same time Zetali looks back to Quynh. « Mine was thinking about asking Quynh to Stand. She says she's not sure, but on the other hand, she says he'll be close where we can keep an eye on him, maybe, if that's necessary. » His head flops back over again and he shuts his second eyelids. Fluffy cotton; soft rayon, and a brush of something that might be a fur-like texture, sinfully soft. Slowly, his main eyelids slide shut. « I think he could. » Zetali, meanwhile, is still watching the labourer. "Well, that's a good attitude." She slips her hands into her pockets and sets after him, long and lanky stride keeping up easily. "Hey, what if I offered you another option, Quynh?"

« Whatever you say, » Azrith replies loftily before Odskovith relays his rider's thoughts and responds with the mental equivalent of a shrug. « Can't get into too much trouble, aren't those eggs going to hatch soon anyway? » he asks although clutches and all their trappings have never held any kind of interest for the blue, mostly irrelevant. But he does relay Zetali's thoughts to his rider, who turns back to studying Quynh, who now has two women staring at him curiously. « She says yours should go with her first instinct. » Just then, Zaria is being called by some of her other riders, and with a covert wink of support in Zetali's dirctions, she leaves the brownrider to her questions.

As the other ground crew members fan out further and further, Quynh is stopped by Zetali’s pursuit of him. Turning, he’ll face her with an openly quizzical expression, but curious in the same vein. “Ma’am?” He’ll take a half-step or so forwards, to close any gap between them, as it would be rude of him to expect her to catch up first! “I’m not sure if I understand. Riders do not usually require the work I can provide?” It’s not that he is dense but his focus is so narrowed that he cannot even begin to glimpse the larger picture unfolding. He’s not weyrbred and certainly not focusing on anything else but his day-to-day routine. Dull, some would call it! But for Quynh it’s comfortable!

« Oh. I'll tell her. Thank you. » Odskovith doesn't sound too enthusiastic, mostly because he wants to get back to sunbathing, and it shows. He might be the bestest at lots of things, but he is the worstest at deception or guile. « Oh. Are they? We've been busy, me and mine. Much more interesting things to do than look at boring eggs. » Zetali, meanwhile, snaps off a salute as Zaria takes her leave, answering that wink with a lopsided grin. Her attention is quick to turn back to Quynh. She folds her hands behind her back as she lopes alongside him. Her brows quirk at his questions, and once she actually processes what he said, she shows her teeth in a grin. "Heh. No. I mean being a dragonrider. Mark me, what you do out here is a huge help, and everybody appreciates it. But don't you want to help more directly? You could have that chance, if you wanted to Stand. It's a big decision… I wouldn't want you to jump into it. Think about it, though, okay? The eggs are hardening pretty quick. It won't be too long before they hatch." She grins, and tries not to make it look like 'the cat just found the canary cage unlocked.' It creeps people out when she does that.

Briefly, Quynh glances past Zetali’s shoulder to mark the belated absence of both Zaria and Azrith. It draws a faint furrow to his brow, but his attention will draw back to the brownrider in due time. This time, nothing goes over his head, though he is visibly thrown off guard. “I…” He begins to form the words, only to falter and exhale in sheepish exasperation. That’s never happened to him before! He’s usually pretty solid. Again, he’ll look at the flamethrower in his hand, his grip tightening in the moment that his resolve inwardly settles; yet where there’s one, there’s the other. Uncertainty isn’t far behind and certain shadows of his past. His expression is grim, but thoughtful, as his gaze lifts to meet hers squarely. “I’ll think about it. It is… very much a large commitment.” But she’s sown the idea in his mind! “How long do I have?” Hours? Days? He’s not one to rush. A pause, then tentatively: “What swayed your decision?”

The bluerider might be gone, but the brownrider is still there, hands still tucked into her pockets. She tilts her head to watch Quynh, sea-green eyes unblinking. She doesn't smile at his faltering start, expression never changing. That would be impolite. Also, it might scare him off from whatever his decision might be. "It is," she agrees, shrugging. "I didn't think about it much before I agreed. I didn't expect to Impress, but I did" Here Zetali thumbs at where Odskovith is sprawled in the dust, "and I guess my point is, I don't regret it. But it's not for everyone. So think about it." She looks away, out to the blend of earth and sky, squinting. How long? "I'm no expert, but not long. A few sevendays at best." She pulls her hands from her pockets and hooks her thumbs in her belt loops. What swayed her decision? "Same reason as you, really. A way to serve. To give back." She shrugs, turning on her heel and shaking her head. The breeze plays at the end of her braid as she goes. "Think on it. When you figure it out, you let me know, yeah? Just ask after me. Most folks don't have a problem picking out Odskovith." She lifts a hand. "I've got to get back to the drop point. Have fun with the flamethrower." With that, she'll stride off over the dusty path, if he has nothing else to stop her with.

Quynh is silent and only because he is listening to everything Zetali has to offer. Her honest answer brings about a light smirk, but a look of respect in his eyes. He would’ve likely turned down the request had she try to oversell the idea. This way, he feels he still has a choice in the matter and isn’t being cornered into deciding on the spot. “I’ll have my answer by the next day and come to find you, Zetali.” he agrees. “Ma’am.” Formal to the very end, but he knows his place. He’ll leave her to her work and he will turn back to his neglected task; it won’t take him long to catch up to the rest of the group. Eventually they’ll circle back and report in that no active burrows were found and that those versed in the nature of such things deemed that the sand worms are present and thriving. Returning the flamethrower, Quynh’s thoughts will be lightyears away on the return trip back to the Weyr. Zetali’s given him quite the challenging decision, but in the end, likely just before the window of opportunity closes for him forever, he’ll accept.

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