Who

Rocio, D'har

What

D'har meets another Arroyo greenrider. For the record: Searuth is NOT cute.

When

It is noon of the thirteenth day of the sixth month of the eighth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Star Stones, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 25 Jul 2016 06:00

 

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"I ain't got no accent."


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Star Stones

The climb up here on foot is steep, narrow stone steps carved high into the sandstone, and from the top the precipice-drop to the jagged-craggy stones far, far below is treacherous. It's a wide sweep of ledge, a dragonlength and a half jutting out from a rough cliff wall. The wind here is ceaseless, dusty-dry during daytimes and biting at night. But for those who brave the climb to this lookout perched high above the Weyr's bowl, the view from these sandy-red rocks is breathtaking. Igen stretches wide-wide-wide around, a vast expanse of deep blue lake and lush green swamp and the myriad rust-rich colours of desert and rock. The real purpose of this spot, though, is highlighted not in its view of what is below but its view of what is above. Three tall rocks stand, one balanced across the tops of the other two, at the focal point of the ledge, perpetually framing one slice of the desert sky beyond.


It takes feline balance and avian speed to zip up the narrow stairway like Rocio does at this very moment. Without even a huff or a puff, the greenriding huntress bleeds momentum into a trot to the center of the ledge while she looks skyward for her lifemate. "HA!" she exclaims while spinning around in search of that viridian green who should be backwinging for a landing right about now. But… she's not here. "I beat ya! Told ya I would, NIA!" Yes, Rocio's hollering with joy as she bounces around the ledge in victory!

There may not be a Niamyth coming in for a landing just now, but there is, instead, a disconcertingly dark blue dragon doing so. The presence of a person on the midst of the ledge garners a warning warble from the blue, who adjusts course to land on the far end of the ledge rather than the middle. A snort is sent down from the dragon alongside a sharp regard, though the dismounting rider doesn't seem to share his lifemate's disgruntled state. Helmet and goggles are removed, the brown-skinned man revealed beneath ducking his head and giving it a shake to loosed the short waves of deep black hair plastered to his scalp beneath. Ebony eyes squint a bit and blink at the woman nearby. "My lifemate wishes me to tell you to have a care," the bluerider says wryly, lips curving into a tilted smile, quite white in contrast to all that goes with him. "Though I'd rather hear why you're up here in the middle of the ledge without a dragon of your own, rather than scold you."

Ever watchful and observant, Rocio bounced her way toward the opposite side of the ledge before the blue could send her flying into the stone wall. A hunter's eye is a blessing more than a curse, sometimes. Having moved out of the way, yet still basking in her glory, Rocio pivots to cast her light colored gaze over at the snuffling blue dragon. "I care." she says with a smuggy smirk. Then she hollers skyward, "I care that I WON!" Hear that, Nia? Back to dancing she goes~ "Ya know. That's probably why she didn't land 'cause she knew you were comin' over." A thumb is then jerked in the direction of the stairs as part of her explanation. "I raced her up here. Have ya seen them stairs? They're killers and yet I still managed to beat her!"

D'har, having been stashing his headgear in a pouch on his lifemate's straps as Rocio speaks, proceeds to strip off his jacket before sweat soaks into it too deeply. Even up high, it is hot. At least there's a breeze. Stretching lean-muscled arms overhead for a moment, the bluerider bends slightly to look past the woman toward the stairs, dark brows hiking momentarily as he surveys the treacherous route. "It's likely she let you win," he opines, letting his arms drop with a grunt. "After all, they can simply wing up here with, what…" He strides to the edge of the ledge, peering over speculatively. "…A dozen, dozen and a half wingbeats? Not that I wish to rain on your Gather; it is rather pleasant to watch you dance." The blue dragon sighs, a note of exasperation evident as he settles in to a watchful pose. D'har folds his arms, grinning somewhat roguishly at the greenrider. "I don't believe we've met yet. I am D'har, Searuth's," he introduces with a tilt of his head toward the dark dragon. "Parhelion, though still rather new."

Rocio stops her shenanigans long enough to regard the bluerider with a look of sorts, though that smile of hers doesn't seem to let up. Both hands reach up to tighten her ponytail and smooth the blonde wisps of hair that have escaped her dark headband before she lifts her chin a bit. "Rocio, green Niamyth's." A beat, "And it don't matter if ya win by a minute or a candlemark. Winnin's winnin'." That's her story and she's sticking to it! Hey, it's not every day that she manages to beat the sassy green in a foot race — she's going to gloat for as long as she can. "Where ya from?"

Unfolding his arms long enough to help himself settle against/upon a low outcrop, D'har chuckles, giving a little shake of his head. "Benden Weyr," he replies, bracing on both hands as he leans back a bit. "Southern Boll before that. You've the tongue of Keroon about you, though, so I'm not sure I need to ask the same of you," he notes, winking cheekily. "However, perhaps you are like me and come from home by way of somewhere else?"

"I ain't got no accent." Rocio says in her thickest Keroon drawl. The grin that takes over her expression matches the glint of amusement in her light colored eyes as she quickly glances at the bluerider. Shoulders lift into a shrug while she laces her fingers together and then lifts her arms up over her head to streeetch tight muscles. Leaning over to the left and then over to the right, the huntress turns and walks toward the edge of the stone precipice until the gusts of wind become too risky. "Born and raised at Keroon, Impressed at Southern. Now I'm here at Igen." Both arms lower and she whirls around to bound back to Searuth and D'har. "Ya know… You remind me of someone." A finger taps her chin as she attempts to recollect a memory, staring at the man as she does.

The exaggeration draws a wide grin and a laugh from D'har, and he watches Rocio stretch - analytical, at first, then appreciatively, though it isn't at all blatant. As she draws near the edge of the ledge, he stands again, partly as an idle move and partly out of caution, because the winds up here really are unpredictable at times. Her words garner a lift of dark brows, and he folds his arms, regarding her with a slight tilt of his head. "Oh? And here I thought I was unequivocally unique in the world," he teases casually, ebony eyes steadily meeting that stare of hers with an amused glint.

"Maybe it was someone at Southern. Ya look kinda familiar." Rocio will eyeball him for a moment like she's trying to place him as someone from her past, when all she's really doing is getting a better look at D'har's pretty eyes. And maybe his hair and 5 o'clock shadow because what guy doesn't look good with a little stubble? She lingers for a moment longer and then snaps her fingers like she finally discovered WHO the bluerider looks like. "Lonnie's best friend Vin!" Rocio beams. She's such a liar. "He's my brother's best buddy and goes huntin' with him all the time. Dang, sometimes I really miss the jungle." And since she's close enough, she might just reach out and lightly scritch Searuth's hide this time.

"I must have an evil twin somewhere South, then," D'har surmises, a couple of fingertips rasping across that stubbled chin as he feigns an expression of serious consideration. "I've never been to Southern, in truth. Though I intend to make a trip there soon." The bluerider lifts a brow to Rocio's finger-snap. "Mmm, I see." Amusedly dubious. "Have you been to Boll's jungles?" Searuth seems a bit surprised at Rocio's scritching. He's a skeery blue; why would anyone give him scritches? Yet he lowers his head to scrutinize the greenrider with a low rumble, curious. Scritches may now be administered to his nose, thank you. If they're going to continue.

Rocio snickers and leans over to scritch Searuth's snout with nimble fingertips — poor Niamyth is missing out on all the physical contact. Where is that girl, anyway? The thought flashes through the huntress' mind, which inspires her to look skyward for any signs of the viridian green. Nothing. How very curious… Stepping closer to the blue's muzzle, Rocio scritches a little more and might even lean into her strokes ever slightly to see if Searuth snorts her away. "Ain't been t' Boll in an age. I used t' travel all over the place when I was livin' at Southern, but I ain't had much opportunity at Igen." A beat, "Yet." She has high hopes to get some travel assignments! "How 'bout you? Ya been t' Boll's jungles?" She squinty-eyes him for a sec. "Are you the outdoor type or the indoor type?"

Searuth crouches down, nearly settling onto his stomach as Rocio continues and even digs in to those scritches. His eyelids even start closing…then pop back open a few times. NOPE. No one saw that. Except D'har knows what's going on behind it all and laughs quietly, shaking his head at his lifemate as he folds his arms, adopting a casually leaning stance. "You might say that," he replies with a grin. "It's where I was born, after all. When I wasn't playing at weaving, I was out running around, exploring, finding waterfalls to jump from, getting scraped up… So you might say I'm partial to both." Indoors and outdoors.

If it's one thing that Rocio is good at, it's giving scritches. Well, she's good at a lot of things, but giving scritches should've earned her a girl scout patch or something. And since Searuth is not moving away, she continues her ministrations for a while longer. "Aww, you're cute." Searuth, that is. Niamyth is really missing out. Tossing a glance up at D'har, it doesn't take her long to process that he's a healthy mix of outdoor and indoor. "That ain't a bad thing. I know lotsa guys who are, ya know, the indoor type." Her tone is teasing as she ceases scritching blue hide long enough to brush her hands together for a job well done. "Ya might call me a severe outdoorsy gal since I come from a looong line of hunters."

Well, that warrants a nice, gusty snort. Cute. Once Rocio is done, Searuth sits up and pretends like it never happened. Never mind that he's not moving away; he's just not looking at her anymore. But he is not cute, thank you very much. D'har looks up at his blue-black lifemate with an arched brow and sniggers. "I think this place would turn many men into the indoor type, whether they want to be or not," the bluerider muses ruefully, and he grins again for the greenrider's professed background. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

"Yeah? What was your first clue?" Rocio asks D'har while regarding Searuth with a smirk. That little snort of his didn't do unnoticed and she finds herself looking over at the miffed blue with amusement. "It's 'cause I got hay in my hair or somethin', ain't it?" Both hands lift to smooth back the wisps of blonde hair that escaped her headband in an attempt to pick out anything weird — it wouldn't be the first time that she had mud or leaves or grass stuck on her. Staying still for too long has the greenrider twitching into action when a flash of movement from above draws her attentipn skyward. "NIA!" Finally she arrives… but, doesn't land. She circles lazily from above the star stones and Rocio bounds toward the center of the ledge. "I beat ya! Oh yes I did!" Holler a little louder, Ro. The northern bowl didn't hear you.

"It's just that you don't seem the sort to be confined," D'har observes, though his gaze does stray to her hair as though looking for something caught in it. That she reaches up to feel out the same draws a deep smirk. "Nor do you have the look of a woman who prefers to remain under the cover of a roof more often than not." He cranes his neck to track Niamyth's passage, laughing again. The greenrider's exuberance is almost bewildering! Searuth lifts his head to watch Niamyth as well, warbling a greeting to the green while sidling himself over to one side of the ledge to make room, if she cares to make use of it.

"Yup. I don't like bein' in one spot for too long." Niamyth angles her body so that she slooowly circles the star stones in an attempt to get a good look at Igen's newest blue duo. « Calm down, for cryin' out loud. » The green's voice is the heady rush of a cool breeze that seemingly simmers Rocio down a bit — probably because she's getting a brain freeze from the sudden sensation. It halts her movement long enough that she squeezes her eyes shut and rubs them with her palms for a moment in silence. Enjoy the peace while you can, guys. "Sonuva — Nia." With a dainty little warble, the green makes a final pass overhead and swoops toward the northern bowl where a few of her boyfriends are hanging out. Rocio just shakes her head and eyes her lifemate's very coy departure. "She's just a sore loser." The snort that follows is elegant. "Ain't that right, Searuth?" Beaming again, Rocio adjusts her ponytail and makes waggly fingers at the not-cute-blue. More scritches? "I really oughtta find some water so I can race her again. But, we got sweeps in a few."

Searuth shifts his shoulders and rustles star-flecked wings in his equivalent of a shrug, watching Niamyth fly onward. Fine then. But bright green eyes flick down to Rocio and her waggling fingers, and he chuffs…and sidles closer. His foreleg is now conveniently right there. With an amused hum, D'har gives a nod. "Best not to wear yourself out before that, yes," he agrees. "My place, however, is right here for now. Watches are as unavoidable as sweeps, of course. If you wish stay until your sweeps, however, I don't believe I would mind the company." His smirk opens to a grin, perfect white teeth gleaming in striking contrast to rich brown skin. "If you feel so inclined, of course."

Rocio scritches Searuth's foreleg vigorously for a moment so that she can get back on his good side for A) calling him cute, and B) Niamyth's snub. She really can't predict what her sassy lifemate will do at any given moment — it is kinda shocking that she flew onward when there are two brand new, potential boyfriends to claim. "Weeeeell…" Maybe Rocio's playing hard to get, too. "I wouldn't wanna distract ya from watchin' over stuff. So, maybe I'll see ya later on or somethin'." Because she doesn't really care either way. Right. "So, I'mma go change and then hogtie Nia so we ain't late for stuff." Sweeps. Patting Searuth one last time, Rocio backs toward the stairway so she can keep an eye on D'har and that pretty smile of his for as long as she can without seeming weird. "Don't get too bored up here all by your onesies, 'kay?"

Even just a good, vigorous momentary scratch is appeasing enough. Searuth quietly accepts and looks out over the Bowl as though there could, potentially, be anything to catch his eye in the midst of this bright desert day. D'har's smile widens a little more; he doesn't mind holding it, knowing full well that it's having the effect it usually does and quite willing to let it do what it does best. "I am easily distractible, it's true," he days, and lets his arms drop. "I will do my best not to get bored, so long as you do your best to keep safe getting down those stairs." Which aren't for the faint of heart no matter how skilled, in his opinion! "Clear skies, greenrider, Rocio." He'll just watch to make sure she get down a way without incident for a bit before resuming his watch. Searuth may just keep a longer eye on her. Discreetly.

Now here's the tricky part: Rocio making her way down the stairs without breaking an ankle. Because that's what usually happens whenever she's walking away from an incredibly good looking guy, right? Well, she'll find out in a minute. "Back at ya, bluerider, D'har." And Searuth! With another waggle of fingers at the Not Cute Blue, the huntress whirls around and hones in on her agility and balance to make her way down to the narrow, crumbling stairs. See? And she didn't trip once! It's a good day, indeed~

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