Who

Nasrin, Ha'ze, Xanthee

What

Nasrin was just doing her job…

When

It is afternoon of the twenty-fifth day of the tenth month of the twelfth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

North Bowl

OOC Date 27 Dec 2017 07:00

 

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"Congratulations, lass. You've found your father."


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North Bowl

In the quieter spaces of the Northern Bowl, there is less activity; all is kept serene for young, forming draconic bonds. Beneath the sweep of skies' ever-changing colors, this round little panorama hosts the short distances between the Hatching Cavern and the weyrlings' ultimate destination: the barracks and training grounds. More packed dirt and tiny little hillocks than clean white sand, the floor is an uneven thing, a startling trap for the unwary and the clumsy. Further onward, the Ground Weyrs beckon, a haven for those who may seek medical attention.


The weather is near to perfect for the weyrlings barely a month into their new existance. Nasrin, sheathed in an ochre dress with a square neckline, is casing the group with a large ledger. It almost seems to weigh her down, but it's its perimeters that are really the problem, unwieldy. It's one of many ledgers designated to keep record of each dragonrider pair from the pair's 'birth' until their deaths. The most efficient thing to do would be to extract such information from Rajakhelath in a matter of minutes, yet there's something to be said about gleaning the information face to face. It's a starting point.

Kaisylaith keeps to wide open areas for landing these days, perhaps giving a hint that the healers have good cause to keep their pair on the injured rolls. They were coming down when abruptly there are weyrlings in the way. With a painful whistle Kaisylaith backwings to keep up in the sky, his shadow brushing over the top of all of the children. Maybe the kids will scatter and allow the larger and battle scarred bronze to land.

Jogging in from the Central Bowl, raven hair tied back in a runner tail, Xanthee pumps her legs easily in the sand, arms moving with each motion, a glisten of sweat on her brow. After the last storm, she was getting antsy and happy to see a clear day dawn this morning. So after her early shift at the Tea Room, she thought she would treat herself to a run. Wearing a pair of cotton shorts that come halfway to her knees, and a light tank top, sturdy sandals making purchase in the sand. As she comes upon where the weyrlings are gathered she pauses for a moment, jogging in place to keep muscles warm. And then there is a shadow above, and her eyes pivot skywards in time to see a big bronze coming straight for the group. Quicky she estimates that she is at a safe enough distance, but nevertheless, reflexes take hold and she calls out a warning, "Watch out!"

It's true the young dragonets are ungainly, but even they have the good sense to remove themselves from out of the path of a dragon in full descent. One of Vosji's assistants develops a glare on his face, but at the same time contributes to the relocation of some of his charges a little further east. He's more respectful of Xanthee, lifting his chin to her in an obscure sign of thanks. Nasrin's grey-blue eyes are compelled to close at the rush of wind that coats her back and stirs her skirts. The ledger is in no harm. When the air clears, she turns to face Ha'ze and Xanthee. "Everyone still have their heads?"

When the ground below them is cleared enough of little babies Kaisylaith lowers himself to the ground in a cloud of dust rising around his granite laced hide. Ha'ze reaches forward to run a hand along Kaisylaith's neck before slipping off. "Hold out that wing Kaisylaith, if you're restrained it…" Well, chances are they'll be back to sticking on the ground a bit. Experienced hands trace the muscles of the bronze's wing. He pays special attention to where the scars bite deeply into the hide and cause it to pucker. "Aye, Weyrwoman. Heads at least."

Reaching up to actually check, Xanthee finds that she does indeed still have her head and sighs in relief. "Yes Weyrwoman, everything seems to be still attached." she says with a giggle and a respectful bow of her head in Nasrin's direction. Then her eyes turn to the battle scarred bronze to see who the rider is. Her eyes narrow a little bit, and lips press together in a line as she recognizes that bronzerider from the other day. The utterly unhelpful one. But she is is the presence of one of the Junior Weyrwomen, and so her weyrbreeding wins out and she gives him a terse, "Sir. Is your dragon ok?" she asks a softer tone to her voice, with a touch of worry.

The tip of Nasrin's central finger is enough to keep her place in the ledger she presses against her chest. Its dark leather back has wear marks, but is probably under ten Turns old at best. She hasn't met this new bronzerider, though has assisted one of Kaisylaith's examinations briefly. And it didn't require Rajakhelath. Xanthee beats her to the punch when it comes to asking of the bronze's state, but she seems to pick up on a vein of familiarity between the two. "Yes, a good prognosis I hope?" He nearly had some weyrlings to cushion his landing, but the best part is he didn't.

IT would have to be damn dire before the peace-loving bronze caused any injury to a younger creature. No harm though and Kaislaith lets out a reassuring whistle to any of the small creatures they may have scared abruptly. Ha'ze keeps up his examination till he is sure that the bronze hasn't done any more damage to himself. Hands fall as Ha'ze steps away from Kaisylaith so the bronze can fold his wings again. Eyes flick between the weyrwoman and Xanthee. Good sense says to answer the ranked woman first. "He'll keep flying. Says you'd been about him when the healers were evaluating, so you'd already know the basics."

Letting her eyes roam over the old bronze, Xanthee shudders a little bit as her eyes travel over the dragon's scars and she quickly looks away. Feeling suddenly superfluous to this conversation, she moves off just a little bit and begins to stretch her legs again, seeing as she stopped her exercises rather suddenly and doesn't want her muscles to seize up. Besides, she is unsure if she has the patience to deal with Ha'ze right now and his infuriating way of not answering any of her questions. So instead, she works on stretching her hamstrings.

Nasrin pulls her eyes away from a streak of odd-shaped cirrus clouds to flick them to the bronzerider. "Just one evaluation, but I regret to say not all healer expectations are met. It's encouraging to see him as he is. I much prefer dragons in the air to the ground." The junior's smile is a perfect blend of distance and simpatico. It's taken practice. "Are you training for the guard?" She addresses Xanthee, squinting the girl into some sort of recogition. Nasrin seldom forgets a face.

"Of course they sharding aren't." Ha'ze mutters under his breath as he steps away slightly. Kaisylaith's straps need to come off and the man will direct his attention to that. When the weyrwoman hints at the profession of guard for Xanthee Ha'ze's attention snaps back. "Girls her age don't served in the guard Weyrwoman."

As the Weyrwoman addresses her, Xanthee looks up and shakes her head a little bit, "No ma'am." and was going to happily leave it at that, until Ha'ze opens his big mouth and her eyes flash with an inner fire before she turns back to Nasrin and says rather pointedly, "Actually I hope to be a rider one day, like my mother before me." That was an odd emphasis, and the way her eyes flicker back to the bronzerider almost indicates it might be for his benefit, "I actually stood for your queen's last clutch ma'am, the double one." she says by way of clarification. "So a good friend once told me if I wanted to be a rider, I should act like one. So I started training, because that's all I see the weyrlings do."

Nasrin peacefully watches the transferred rider as he makes the attempt to free Kaisylaith from his straps, even as he propels an opinion on Xanthee in the Weyr guard. The junior collaborates with Parhelion's wingleader with sharpshooter cool. She juggles time with the former candidate, wagging an index finger like a lightning rod. "And you serve in Tea Room." Face placed. As Xanthee elaborates, Nasrin nurtures a grin, it's one of her slicker ones. In earshot of Ha'ze, "your efforts are commendable." Halving the volume of her voice, "don't tell, but I already think you're faster than me."

Kaisylaith is only half freed when he turns to curl a tail right around Xanthee. It's an affectionate gesure as the bronze tries to pull the teen towards him one small inch at a time. "The team room is the proper place for a young woman." Just in case anyone here wants his opinion on anything in this situation.

With a blink of surprise at the praise she gets from the goldrider, Xanthee blushes even more when she hears what the woman says in a softer voice. She stands up a little straighter and smiles, about to respond when she is suddenly snagged by dragon tail and gets dragged along with a little squeak, but she's too shocked to resist for the moment. At Ha'ze next though, her blush turns to a flush of anger as she turns in the tail's grip to point accusatorily at the bronzerider, losing any bit of reserve she had holding her back. "Alright old man, I've had just about enough of you and your little comments. I already told you those stupid comments don't fly with me. And don't think I didn't notice that you didn't answer a single question I asked you the other day, you infuriating.." she sputters briefly as she searches for the right word, but settles merely on "Man!"

As Kaisylaith auditions for a role of constrictor, Nasrin cannot argue with Ha'ze there. "The Tea Room is a proper place for a young woman. But this one has dragon blood in her, there is something to be said for that." Something, everything. At least Kaisylaith likes her. Then Xanthee vaults into a scathing review of Ha'ze, and Nasrin is fully prepared to watch, sans popcorn. As time ticks and before the the bronzerider can respond, there's, "…I wouldn't call him 'old'," from the peanut gallery.

Older than the average age at very least? Ha'ze snorts and turns to look full on at the girl. A shoulder presses against Kaisylaith as rider uses dragon as a wall. Kaisylaith releases the girl but keeps her comfortably in the curl. "Ever think maybe it isn't proper to ask who fucked your mother?" Super awkward here, hopefully Nasrin likes the whole peanut gallery thing? "Or that maybe you wouldn't like the answers?"

"Fuck proper! How else am I supposed to find out who my father is, or even was?" Xanthee says in reply, completely forgetting in the moment that she is in the presence of weyrwoman. "Thread got mom when I was four. I told you all this already! You know why I'm doing it, and I don't know why you are being so defensive. You admitted you knew her and then you just clammed up, and asked me more questions without even answering mine" She is breathing hard now, but the curl of the bronze tail brings her back to the present and she looks mortified as she turns to bow her head in remorse at Nasrin. "All my apolgies ma'am. I completely forgot myself there for a moment."

Oh yes, Nasrin loves to be seated within the peanut gallery. The seats are not always comfortable, but she almost always roots for encores. The goldrider could feign oblivion and peruse through the Turns of amassed rider and dragon vital records, but come on, who would we be fooling. "Oh, I'm hardly in a position to be a critic. But, I would rather not be a dragon's third wing to this, mm, discourse. Good-day," she parts with a cardboard smile, a look towards each person, and a hasty dash to a blueriding pair to get their information.

Ha'ze only gives a half glance towards the weyrwoman. He's respectful enough when she's there but once she skedaddles… well, Xanthee's lost her pest protection. Drawing himself up to his full height the older man will advance on the girl one deliberate step at a time. "Four lass? You had four more years then many get. Can't you be happy with just that?"

Tears of frustration well up in her eyes, and Xanthee shakes her head, "It might as well have been none, I have almost no memory of her." She says as the tears begin to spill over no matter how hard she wills them not to. "Just tell your dragon to let me go and I'll gladly leave you alone for good because I'm obviously such a huge bother."

There's an irritated whistle from Kaisylaith. If Ha'ze doesn't get on with it the dragon is going to take drastic measures. And Ha'ze doesn't want that DOES HE? Eyes roll skywards. "Congratulations, lass. You've found your father." Cue a slightly mocking bow.

Emerald eyes grow so wide in Xanthee's head, they seem to completely overpower her other features. She blinks slowly for a few moments befor she burst out laughing. "What?! You?! Pull the other one."

Ha'ze's next words are for his bronze. "If you had marks, I would have bet you on that reaction." Under the weight of disappointment (though… not unexpected) Kaisylaith sighs loudly and allows his tail to unwrap from Xanthee. Freed the bronze pushes himself upwards and begins the talk to their ground weyr. Back to Xanthee, "If you don't believe the answer lass, don't ask the question. If you want to know more though - go visit Fen, in the bazaar. Use to go by F'enre, of blue Chenzreth. Might not mention his dragon though. Loosing that bond… it does shit to a man's mind." Having tossed off his proof for the girl to investiate or not Ha'ze will set his feet to follow Kaisylaith. There's a weyrling being stupid in the pathway, so Ha'ze pauses to growl at the kid, "Idiot," and looks like he might go into full on lecture mode.

Suddenly Xanthee is no longer laughing, as a shocked look replaces her amused one. "What? You're serious?" She whispers in shock, her feet glued in place. She does nothing as she watches them go, mind racing a milion miles a minute. Her face suddenly loses all its color and without a second thought, Xanthee flees, running as fast as she can in the opposite direction to the man she just found out is her father. Maybe she will go and talk to this Fen herself, maybe she is just desperate to find a certain miner journeyman for comfort, maybe she is just running because she finally has the truth and despite her brave words, she doesn't know what to do with that now.

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