[LOG] Buds.
Who: A'son, Rimara, Rorkes, Devan, (Amdis and Horde o'Kids, NPC)
What: Devan and A'son are old friends, aw cute, and there's kids and nostalgia and remembering other old friends and all kinds of stuff.
Where: Lake shore, HRW.
When: 4/25/2009
4/25/2009
Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr(#276RJs)
The rest of the bowl may be barren, grass barely surviving at best, but here by the lake, it's brilliantly green in the warmer months: thickening and thriving in the silty, boulder-dotted soil just before it transitions to soft sand and thence to the cool, clear water itself.
A large freshwater lake fed by a low waterfall, it not only provides warm-weather bathing space for humans and dragons, but has one end fenced off as a watering hole for the livestock in the feeding grounds. The water there is often muddier than the rest of the clear lake, whose shallows drop off abruptly several yards out into deep water, and whose edge undulates against the coarse-hewn bowl wall: here close enough to just be bramble-covered rocks, there far enough away that a narrow land bridge divides the main lake from a smallish pond. Between are several rocky outcroppings that form excellent makeshift diving points, though only one -- across the bridge -- has a set of narrow, slippery, quite possibly tempting stairs.
The sun is high in the sky and there is not a cloud in sight. There's a breeze that tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air.
For some, the just barely after noontime sun might be a little warm, but not for everyone. Especially not for dragons. There are at least one of every color soaking up the heat of sun-warmed sand, or enjoying the coolness of deep water. Even a few people enjoy the water, but closer to shore. Only one seems to be sun-bathing on a flat rock, and that's Rimara. She's actually managing to get a little color in her fair skin, but nothing like what those from more southern climes have. Arm is cast over her eyes, and it looks like she might be catching a nap. Working late into the night has its disadvantages, mainly, lack of sleep. A blanket covers the rock beneath her, a basket, discarded clothes and a container of drink sit beside her. She appears pretty much oblivious to anyone or anything around her. At least for the moment.
Near enough Rimara to probably pierce her peace-nap, a little girl shrieks giddily and suddenly it's like those children over there came out of nowhere. There's a dozen of them of varying ages, running around after one of those balls stuffed with firm-ish stuffing, for kicking. Standing so far above them that it's probably funny, Devan chases after the herd, trying to /not/ catch up to the ball faster than they do so he doesn't 'win'. Laughter, his and theirs, is loud and happy. It's a good day.
It is a lovely sunny day. Circling from the sky comes a speck. It gets bigger and turns out to be a dragon and rider coming down for a landing. Then it gets closer and and closer and a voice can be heard shouting from the dragon's neckridges. "Noooo! Nooo! Nikoth!" This goes on until the bronze dragon lands not on the beachy shore of the lake, but in the waters themselves. The waves ripple out from where he's landed and the abundant cursing too, comes from that same spot.
Startled from that would-be nap, Rimara heaves herself into a sitting position, blinking as her eyes open onto the brilliant daylight. How long she's been dozing like that is anyone's guess, but not long enough, judging from her scowl. Then again, maybe she's not a "morning," wake up easily person? Gathering her wits, she looks first toward the gaggle of children, and then at the dragon sailing steadily waterward from above. The cursing?---well, she's heard worse from sailors back up in Tillek. Probably said worse, too, a time or three. And then she's watching the tall man playing with the kids. (I mean, who can resist a guy who plays with children, right? It's as good as guys who like kittens!) The ball doesn't so much as bounce as it thuds from person to person. The cursing, well, she at least recognizes the rider, even if he is out in the lake. Yeah, she smiles at both sights.
Some of the kids have seen dragons do that plenty of times before, it's gonna take more than that to impress them. So they keep running and laughing like little idiots, chasing the ball and kicking it back and forth. The kids who /do/ stop everything in the world to stare up at Nikoth are hit or run into respectively, which results in some scuffles. Which leaves Devan, after glancing out at, is that A'son? to break up those little fights by picking kids up by clothes or limbs and setting them away from each other. It's sort of like a rampage through a small village. Soon enough they're climbing all over him like he's a jungle gym and he's turning towards the lake to yell bad words at that bronzerider. Amiably, of course, and without any sense of little children ears. Poor Rimara. Poor Rimara's nap.
A'son is cursing at Nikoth, who may or may not be cursing back at him telepathically. But then there's an actual person shouting things at him from the lakeshore. He's disconnecting his riding straps (in a cranky fashion) and then stopping to yell things back at Devan across the water. His tone too, is friendly. "You yellow-bellied oaf! When I get over there, I'm going to climb onto your back and-" Then Nikoth smashes his wings down in the water creating plenty of spray and noise to drown out whatever he was going to say.
Poor Rimara, indeed. She's laughing, now, though not loudly. "Give it up," she tells Devan when he's trying to play peacemaker. And then he's yelling at A'son, which may be equally as fruitless a task. "Any of those yours?" she asks the child-covered man. The friendly epithets between rider and ... nanny? ... bring another round of laughter---at least until Nikoth puts a sort of end to the bantering. Drawing her legs up, the girl wraps her arms around her knees, watching, waiting to see just how A'son plans to get back to shore without getting wet. Ah, wait, Nikoth just might've already taken care of the getting wet department, what with the amount of spray he just caused. Eyebrows arch, a glance cast at the man near her on the shore. "Awfully hot for so much activity, isn't it? If they've eaten, you'll be lucky they don't throw up on you." Sounds like she may speak from experience.
"You'd have to be able t'actually /get/ t'me first," Devan yells back, and laughs, because there's a kid hanging from each arm and one dangling from his neck. Swinging around to Rimara, "These? Nah. Except for when I kidnap 'em." Like now. "Think we'll take hot over snowin' any day. Besides, I've known most of 'em their whole life. What's a little puke between friends." Turning again for bronze and bronzerider, he shouts, "Except for you, I'd never let you puke on me. Are you drowned yet?"
A'son is now sitting on Nikoth's neck, unstrapped. He's pulling his boots off and then tying the laces together. These are swung around his neck and he's soon jumping off and into the waters of the lake. From there, he swims awkwardly onto shore. He throws his footware into the sand (they're dry!) and begins to peel off his soaking wet shirt. "Unbelievable. And hey-" Pointing at Devan. "You're just still upset about that one time when we were kids and I vomited on your new shoes at the gather." Oh, look. There's Rimara. "Heeey, Rimara." Did he say he vomited on his friend? "I was fourteen at the time."
"It was my little brothers' favorite trick," Rimara explains. "I'd be playing with 'em, and I swear they'd time it perfectly for when I tossed 'em up in the air." Not that she probably threw them far up into the air; she's too short for that. "I was /real/ glad when they grew out of /that/ stage." She chuckles at his comeback to A'son. "He looks a little big for kick ball, let alone holding on to your arms or neck." She kind of pauses, looking between the two men with a "then again" kind of expression. "Guess it depends on the moment," she says as A'son swims ashore and makes his confession. "Hi," she drawls, watching rider and kid-covered man with raised eyebrows. "So. Introduce me?" she suggests, eyes sparkling with good humor as she finds the towel she brought to the shore. "Here." It's tossed at A'son, who's stripping off his shirt not far from where Rimara's sitting on a flat rock, and Devan's playing "jungle gym" for some kids.
"Those were good shoes," Devan throws back vengefully. And if A'son was fourteen, that'd make /him/, "Ten. I was /ten/. ...I think" Poor little Devan, traumatized for life. "I'm Devan," he adds, a little uncertainly, because he isn't /quite/ sure who's being introduced here. "You're Rimara. This is A'son." There. All their bases are covered. "People used t'think we were brothers," he adds, maybe for A'son, and then, once he's disentangled children from various limbs, he grabs one of them by the head and sort of turns him towards the bronzerider. Ready. Aim. "Go get 'im." Fire. And with that child comes the rest, all running, all intent on tackling, probably.
"Yeah and you were just /soooo/ innocent." Sly smile! Then A'son catches Rimara's towel with one hand and begins to pat dry his upper body. There's not much that can be done for his soaking wet pants though. He soggily makes his way over by the bartender and drops down onto another flat rock, laying himself out to dry. "This is Devan. He's a barbarian, don't be fooled." Then he's being tackled by children, who knock him off the rock and onto the sand. "Hey, hey,!" Sand gets in his mouth, he's spitting out. There's no justice in this world, none.
Here less than a month, it's hard to make friends, especially when you're not that bold to start with. For some minutes now, Rorkes has been off closer to the lake, playing around in the shallows with the elder of his two kids, a little blonde-haired girl of about five, who keeps watching the other children running about. It takes a little coaxing from Rorkes, but eventually the pair drift closer to Devan and his gaggle of children, and Amdis is giggling as A'son goes down, tugging at her father's sleeve to point.
"Devan," Riamra says, nodding. "Didn't recognize you in daylight," she quips, "or wearing children." Her lips twitch as the further bantering between the men. And then A'son's down, spitting sand. She shouldn't laugh. Really. But it's funny. "Here," she offers once the rider's mouth is free of sand. "Hey, let him up for air," she tells the kids, who more or less ignore her. She still holds out that container of drink. "It's just juice," she adds to A'son, untangling her legs and slipping off the rock to hand the bronzerider the drink when he's able to take it. A glimpse of the little girl in the water, pointing, and she waves a hand. Rorkes is recognized from their single meeting, and a nod is offered. "A barbarian, hm?" An eye cast to Devan again. "Guess I did get fooled. I thought he was a tree for climbing." It's a joke. "Wait. A tree for /kids/ to climb." Yeah, better make that clear.
Barbarian, tree. He'll go along with any of that, Devan will, and he'll laugh unashamed at A'son, grinning bright and open-mouthed at him. His laugh is kind of insane, don't mind him. "I'm a barbarian with top-shelf minions. Lookit 'em! Now that's loyalty." But enough of that, really. When the kids ignore Rimara he steps in again to grab and pull at the dogpile and toss kids to their feet, away from poor prone bronzerider. "Aw, there you are, big guy." Reach, grab hand, pull. In all the commotion one of the kids has spotted Amdis and, curious as kids are, some of the horde come up to her to say hi and ask her a million questions at once, mostly about 'will you play with me?' "How long's he been here?" Rorkes, must be.
A'son manages to shake off a couple of children and stands, using Devan's hand as assistance. However there is still one attached to his leg. He's now shirtless, soaked and totally caked in sand. What a day. Rimara is thankfully handing him something to drink. "Thank you, you're such a nice girl. See, Devan. This is how friends are -supposed- to act." He takes just a little sip and hands it back to her. He notices Rorkes' and his daughter from a distance. There's a look of recognition on his face which causes him to frown. "Do you know that guy?" A'son suddenly asks, looking over at the handyman.
For a moment, Amdis hides, ducking behind Rorkes until he urges her on out. And then, ice broken, the little girl starts chattering along herself, coming out from behind her father to play with them. And Rorkes, with her occupied now, lifts a hand in greeting to the trio of older people, with a small smile. "Afternoon," he tells them. "Hope we're not intruding, but Ami, well. She's still working on making new friends these days, so..."
Rimara's still grinning as she accepts the juice back from A'son. "You're quite welcome, A'son," she says, assuming a very demure expression. Demure? In a skimy swimsuit. Riiiight. The question regarding Rorkes draws her attention back to the man and his daughter; a casual glance. She then turns, onstead, watching Devan detach the last child from the rider's leg. "Could be worse. At least he wasn't gnawing your leg," she remarks to A'son, leaning back against her rock. Devan gets a grin. "Dedicated minions, indeed. Remind me to stay on your good side. They'd crush me." Rorkes gets another nod. "Afternoon, sir. Looks like she's settling in fine, now." Being the polite kind, she offers introductions. "A'son, rider of bronze Nikoth, and Devan, Barbarian Leader of the Weyrbrat Horde. This's Journeyman Harper Rorkes."
A shrug for A'son says 'I don't think so'. Until, that is, Rimara introduces Rorkes by name. That's when things click. Literally, he snaps his fingers. "/Oh/, right. Ays," he smacks at the guy with the back of his hand, "this is Rorkes, remember?" That's helpful. Grinning at the kids -- aw, cute -- he puts hands on hips and catches his breath a little. Slangin' kids around can take a lot out of a guy. "Much as I hate t'break 'em up now, I kinda told one o'the nannies I'd have 'em back in an hour. It's been two." He scratches at his scruffy jaw. Think that's trouble?
The bronzerider is brushing large clumps off sand off his still wet pants as he stands there. Rorkes' is still getting the eyeball and it's a good thing that Rimara is the polite one, because he doesn't readily offer an introductions. Of course then Devan is smacking him. The abuse continues! "Rorkes." He tries the name out in his mouth and there's a sort of 'oh' of recognition. "Right! Kind of didn't want to be working kid! I remember you! Do you remember me? Ayson? A little obsessive, bossy, pushy?" He grins in a self-deprecating fashion as he says these things. Then there's his friend next to him again. "You're late returning children? Oh no, I'm sure the parents won't mind at all. They like when kids are missing."
"Devan. A's--Ayson?" Rorkes is piecing together names himself, brows arching as he places them to the faces. "Didn't want to be working kid," says the harper then, ruefully. "Yes, that was me. And you--I do remember you, I believe. It's been some time. --And I can speak from experience, we don't really mind that much," is the aside added to Devan, as he starts rounding up children to take them in. "Would you mind taking Amdis with you and dropping her off for me with the nannies, too? I think it's naptime for her, or Lena is going to strangle me when she's all sulky over dinner."
Devan's grinning over at A'son. "You sure are good at describing yourself," he points out. Because that was so perfectly packaged: obsessive, bossy, pushy. Yep. "I was the one with puke on his shoes." To bring it up again. And wry glance at the bronzerider, after sharing his grin with Rorkes. And, because he did make a promise, he reluctantly drops his hands and claps. "Okay, you monsters. Let's bring it in, huh? Get that ball, can't leave it out here. Sure I will." That was about Amdis, he even reaches out a big hand for her to take if she wants. "I sure miss naptime."
Cue sarcasm. "I'm sure they'll be devastated you kept their kids an extra hour," Rimara comments with a roll of her eyes. She gives the whole reunion thing a curious glance or two, listening quietly. Finally, once all the info is gathered, she comments, "So, you all knew one another here?" Hey, she's a new-comer. Not from around these parts. Tender-foot, even. But there's a smile for Rorkes' little girl. "She's cute," is said. "I'm sure she'll fall into the Weyrbrat Horde soon enough. Kids are like that. So much easier to integrate than adults." Wisdom! Yay. Let's hear it for the girl, huh? "Nice to've officially met you, Devan," Rimara says. "Now I can call you something besides 'hey barkeep' when you're working Snowasis," she says with a grin.
"Like. Fifteen turns or so." A'son makes a face at that. "Shards. When did we get so old?" Another bomb explodes in his brain. "You have kids." There's a slow shake of his head. Then he's backing up towards the water and eventually is submerged. His intent becomes clear as a pair of pants come flying out of the water to land on the rocks. He can swim while they dry. "Have fun children herding, Devan!" He calls out from his spot in the lake.
For a moment, Amdis is shy of Devan's big hand, but after a moment, and a glance back at her father, she slides her hand into the older man's and goes skipping off with him and the other children. And Rorkes, relieved of his babysitting duties, steps over to take a seat on a rock and rest for a minute. "Fifteen, sounds about right," he tells A'son. "I've barely even visited since I apprenticed. But we're here to stay, posted now: me and my wife, and our girls--we have a younger one, three. And thanks. I'm sure she is; she was sad to leave all her friends back at Nabol, but she's liking the classes and such here all right, I suppose," is added to Rimara then.
"We used to be these guys," replies Devan, gesturing at the horde. After considering them for a long moment he sniffs and points at one kid who's throwing rocks at the water without making it even close. "I was probably that one." And then, after a quick look, he finds another kid, who's wiping his nose on his wrist. "A'son was that one." /Ha/. Ok, really. "Ha, or you could keep callin' me that. Reckon you'd get one or the other of us, since there's usually two. But you know that." Fifteen turns. "Yikes," is all he has to say about that. A'son's off, so he cups a hand around his mouth to shout, "Come have a drink later, I'll be workin'." And off he skips, with a wave bye for everyone, following along after Amdis as if she actually has the strength to pull him behind her.
What: Devan and A'son are old friends, aw cute, and there's kids and nostalgia and remembering other old friends and all kinds of stuff.
Where: Lake shore, HRW.
When: 4/25/2009
4/25/2009
Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr(#276RJs)
The rest of the bowl may be barren, grass barely surviving at best, but here by the lake, it's brilliantly green in the warmer months: thickening and thriving in the silty, boulder-dotted soil just before it transitions to soft sand and thence to the cool, clear water itself.
A large freshwater lake fed by a low waterfall, it not only provides warm-weather bathing space for humans and dragons, but has one end fenced off as a watering hole for the livestock in the feeding grounds. The water there is often muddier than the rest of the clear lake, whose shallows drop off abruptly several yards out into deep water, and whose edge undulates against the coarse-hewn bowl wall: here close enough to just be bramble-covered rocks, there far enough away that a narrow land bridge divides the main lake from a smallish pond. Between are several rocky outcroppings that form excellent makeshift diving points, though only one -- across the bridge -- has a set of narrow, slippery, quite possibly tempting stairs.
The sun is high in the sky and there is not a cloud in sight. There's a breeze that tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air.
For some, the just barely after noontime sun might be a little warm, but not for everyone. Especially not for dragons. There are at least one of every color soaking up the heat of sun-warmed sand, or enjoying the coolness of deep water. Even a few people enjoy the water, but closer to shore. Only one seems to be sun-bathing on a flat rock, and that's Rimara. She's actually managing to get a little color in her fair skin, but nothing like what those from more southern climes have. Arm is cast over her eyes, and it looks like she might be catching a nap. Working late into the night has its disadvantages, mainly, lack of sleep. A blanket covers the rock beneath her, a basket, discarded clothes and a container of drink sit beside her. She appears pretty much oblivious to anyone or anything around her. At least for the moment.
Near enough Rimara to probably pierce her peace-nap, a little girl shrieks giddily and suddenly it's like those children over there came out of nowhere. There's a dozen of them of varying ages, running around after one of those balls stuffed with firm-ish stuffing, for kicking. Standing so far above them that it's probably funny, Devan chases after the herd, trying to /not/ catch up to the ball faster than they do so he doesn't 'win'. Laughter, his and theirs, is loud and happy. It's a good day.
It is a lovely sunny day. Circling from the sky comes a speck. It gets bigger and turns out to be a dragon and rider coming down for a landing. Then it gets closer and and closer and a voice can be heard shouting from the dragon's neckridges. "Noooo! Nooo! Nikoth!" This goes on until the bronze dragon lands not on the beachy shore of the lake, but in the waters themselves. The waves ripple out from where he's landed and the abundant cursing too, comes from that same spot.
Startled from that would-be nap, Rimara heaves herself into a sitting position, blinking as her eyes open onto the brilliant daylight. How long she's been dozing like that is anyone's guess, but not long enough, judging from her scowl. Then again, maybe she's not a "morning," wake up easily person? Gathering her wits, she looks first toward the gaggle of children, and then at the dragon sailing steadily waterward from above. The cursing?---well, she's heard worse from sailors back up in Tillek. Probably said worse, too, a time or three. And then she's watching the tall man playing with the kids. (I mean, who can resist a guy who plays with children, right? It's as good as guys who like kittens!) The ball doesn't so much as bounce as it thuds from person to person. The cursing, well, she at least recognizes the rider, even if he is out in the lake. Yeah, she smiles at both sights.
Some of the kids have seen dragons do that plenty of times before, it's gonna take more than that to impress them. So they keep running and laughing like little idiots, chasing the ball and kicking it back and forth. The kids who /do/ stop everything in the world to stare up at Nikoth are hit or run into respectively, which results in some scuffles. Which leaves Devan, after glancing out at, is that A'son? to break up those little fights by picking kids up by clothes or limbs and setting them away from each other. It's sort of like a rampage through a small village. Soon enough they're climbing all over him like he's a jungle gym and he's turning towards the lake to yell bad words at that bronzerider. Amiably, of course, and without any sense of little children ears. Poor Rimara. Poor Rimara's nap.
A'son is cursing at Nikoth, who may or may not be cursing back at him telepathically. But then there's an actual person shouting things at him from the lakeshore. He's disconnecting his riding straps (in a cranky fashion) and then stopping to yell things back at Devan across the water. His tone too, is friendly. "You yellow-bellied oaf! When I get over there, I'm going to climb onto your back and-" Then Nikoth smashes his wings down in the water creating plenty of spray and noise to drown out whatever he was going to say.
Poor Rimara, indeed. She's laughing, now, though not loudly. "Give it up," she tells Devan when he's trying to play peacemaker. And then he's yelling at A'son, which may be equally as fruitless a task. "Any of those yours?" she asks the child-covered man. The friendly epithets between rider and ... nanny? ... bring another round of laughter---at least until Nikoth puts a sort of end to the bantering. Drawing her legs up, the girl wraps her arms around her knees, watching, waiting to see just how A'son plans to get back to shore without getting wet. Ah, wait, Nikoth just might've already taken care of the getting wet department, what with the amount of spray he just caused. Eyebrows arch, a glance cast at the man near her on the shore. "Awfully hot for so much activity, isn't it? If they've eaten, you'll be lucky they don't throw up on you." Sounds like she may speak from experience.
"You'd have to be able t'actually /get/ t'me first," Devan yells back, and laughs, because there's a kid hanging from each arm and one dangling from his neck. Swinging around to Rimara, "These? Nah. Except for when I kidnap 'em." Like now. "Think we'll take hot over snowin' any day. Besides, I've known most of 'em their whole life. What's a little puke between friends." Turning again for bronze and bronzerider, he shouts, "Except for you, I'd never let you puke on me. Are you drowned yet?"
A'son is now sitting on Nikoth's neck, unstrapped. He's pulling his boots off and then tying the laces together. These are swung around his neck and he's soon jumping off and into the waters of the lake. From there, he swims awkwardly onto shore. He throws his footware into the sand (they're dry!) and begins to peel off his soaking wet shirt. "Unbelievable. And hey-" Pointing at Devan. "You're just still upset about that one time when we were kids and I vomited on your new shoes at the gather." Oh, look. There's Rimara. "Heeey, Rimara." Did he say he vomited on his friend? "I was fourteen at the time."
"It was my little brothers' favorite trick," Rimara explains. "I'd be playing with 'em, and I swear they'd time it perfectly for when I tossed 'em up in the air." Not that she probably threw them far up into the air; she's too short for that. "I was /real/ glad when they grew out of /that/ stage." She chuckles at his comeback to A'son. "He looks a little big for kick ball, let alone holding on to your arms or neck." She kind of pauses, looking between the two men with a "then again" kind of expression. "Guess it depends on the moment," she says as A'son swims ashore and makes his confession. "Hi," she drawls, watching rider and kid-covered man with raised eyebrows. "So. Introduce me?" she suggests, eyes sparkling with good humor as she finds the towel she brought to the shore. "Here." It's tossed at A'son, who's stripping off his shirt not far from where Rimara's sitting on a flat rock, and Devan's playing "jungle gym" for some kids.
"Those were good shoes," Devan throws back vengefully. And if A'son was fourteen, that'd make /him/, "Ten. I was /ten/. ...I think" Poor little Devan, traumatized for life. "I'm Devan," he adds, a little uncertainly, because he isn't /quite/ sure who's being introduced here. "You're Rimara. This is A'son." There. All their bases are covered. "People used t'think we were brothers," he adds, maybe for A'son, and then, once he's disentangled children from various limbs, he grabs one of them by the head and sort of turns him towards the bronzerider. Ready. Aim. "Go get 'im." Fire. And with that child comes the rest, all running, all intent on tackling, probably.
"Yeah and you were just /soooo/ innocent." Sly smile! Then A'son catches Rimara's towel with one hand and begins to pat dry his upper body. There's not much that can be done for his soaking wet pants though. He soggily makes his way over by the bartender and drops down onto another flat rock, laying himself out to dry. "This is Devan. He's a barbarian, don't be fooled." Then he's being tackled by children, who knock him off the rock and onto the sand. "Hey, hey,!" Sand gets in his mouth, he's spitting out. There's no justice in this world, none.
Here less than a month, it's hard to make friends, especially when you're not that bold to start with. For some minutes now, Rorkes has been off closer to the lake, playing around in the shallows with the elder of his two kids, a little blonde-haired girl of about five, who keeps watching the other children running about. It takes a little coaxing from Rorkes, but eventually the pair drift closer to Devan and his gaggle of children, and Amdis is giggling as A'son goes down, tugging at her father's sleeve to point.
"Devan," Riamra says, nodding. "Didn't recognize you in daylight," she quips, "or wearing children." Her lips twitch as the further bantering between the men. And then A'son's down, spitting sand. She shouldn't laugh. Really. But it's funny. "Here," she offers once the rider's mouth is free of sand. "Hey, let him up for air," she tells the kids, who more or less ignore her. She still holds out that container of drink. "It's just juice," she adds to A'son, untangling her legs and slipping off the rock to hand the bronzerider the drink when he's able to take it. A glimpse of the little girl in the water, pointing, and she waves a hand. Rorkes is recognized from their single meeting, and a nod is offered. "A barbarian, hm?" An eye cast to Devan again. "Guess I did get fooled. I thought he was a tree for climbing." It's a joke. "Wait. A tree for /kids/ to climb." Yeah, better make that clear.
Barbarian, tree. He'll go along with any of that, Devan will, and he'll laugh unashamed at A'son, grinning bright and open-mouthed at him. His laugh is kind of insane, don't mind him. "I'm a barbarian with top-shelf minions. Lookit 'em! Now that's loyalty." But enough of that, really. When the kids ignore Rimara he steps in again to grab and pull at the dogpile and toss kids to their feet, away from poor prone bronzerider. "Aw, there you are, big guy." Reach, grab hand, pull. In all the commotion one of the kids has spotted Amdis and, curious as kids are, some of the horde come up to her to say hi and ask her a million questions at once, mostly about 'will you play with me?' "How long's he been here?" Rorkes, must be.
A'son manages to shake off a couple of children and stands, using Devan's hand as assistance. However there is still one attached to his leg. He's now shirtless, soaked and totally caked in sand. What a day. Rimara is thankfully handing him something to drink. "Thank you, you're such a nice girl. See, Devan. This is how friends are -supposed- to act." He takes just a little sip and hands it back to her. He notices Rorkes' and his daughter from a distance. There's a look of recognition on his face which causes him to frown. "Do you know that guy?" A'son suddenly asks, looking over at the handyman.
For a moment, Amdis hides, ducking behind Rorkes until he urges her on out. And then, ice broken, the little girl starts chattering along herself, coming out from behind her father to play with them. And Rorkes, with her occupied now, lifts a hand in greeting to the trio of older people, with a small smile. "Afternoon," he tells them. "Hope we're not intruding, but Ami, well. She's still working on making new friends these days, so..."
Rimara's still grinning as she accepts the juice back from A'son. "You're quite welcome, A'son," she says, assuming a very demure expression. Demure? In a skimy swimsuit. Riiiight. The question regarding Rorkes draws her attention back to the man and his daughter; a casual glance. She then turns, onstead, watching Devan detach the last child from the rider's leg. "Could be worse. At least he wasn't gnawing your leg," she remarks to A'son, leaning back against her rock. Devan gets a grin. "Dedicated minions, indeed. Remind me to stay on your good side. They'd crush me." Rorkes gets another nod. "Afternoon, sir. Looks like she's settling in fine, now." Being the polite kind, she offers introductions. "A'son, rider of bronze Nikoth, and Devan, Barbarian Leader of the Weyrbrat Horde. This's Journeyman Harper Rorkes."
A shrug for A'son says 'I don't think so'. Until, that is, Rimara introduces Rorkes by name. That's when things click. Literally, he snaps his fingers. "/Oh/, right. Ays," he smacks at the guy with the back of his hand, "this is Rorkes, remember?" That's helpful. Grinning at the kids -- aw, cute -- he puts hands on hips and catches his breath a little. Slangin' kids around can take a lot out of a guy. "Much as I hate t'break 'em up now, I kinda told one o'the nannies I'd have 'em back in an hour. It's been two." He scratches at his scruffy jaw. Think that's trouble?
The bronzerider is brushing large clumps off sand off his still wet pants as he stands there. Rorkes' is still getting the eyeball and it's a good thing that Rimara is the polite one, because he doesn't readily offer an introductions. Of course then Devan is smacking him. The abuse continues! "Rorkes." He tries the name out in his mouth and there's a sort of 'oh' of recognition. "Right! Kind of didn't want to be working kid! I remember you! Do you remember me? Ayson? A little obsessive, bossy, pushy?" He grins in a self-deprecating fashion as he says these things. Then there's his friend next to him again. "You're late returning children? Oh no, I'm sure the parents won't mind at all. They like when kids are missing."
"Devan. A's--Ayson?" Rorkes is piecing together names himself, brows arching as he places them to the faces. "Didn't want to be working kid," says the harper then, ruefully. "Yes, that was me. And you--I do remember you, I believe. It's been some time. --And I can speak from experience, we don't really mind that much," is the aside added to Devan, as he starts rounding up children to take them in. "Would you mind taking Amdis with you and dropping her off for me with the nannies, too? I think it's naptime for her, or Lena is going to strangle me when she's all sulky over dinner."
Devan's grinning over at A'son. "You sure are good at describing yourself," he points out. Because that was so perfectly packaged: obsessive, bossy, pushy. Yep. "I was the one with puke on his shoes." To bring it up again. And wry glance at the bronzerider, after sharing his grin with Rorkes. And, because he did make a promise, he reluctantly drops his hands and claps. "Okay, you monsters. Let's bring it in, huh? Get that ball, can't leave it out here. Sure I will." That was about Amdis, he even reaches out a big hand for her to take if she wants. "I sure miss naptime."
Cue sarcasm. "I'm sure they'll be devastated you kept their kids an extra hour," Rimara comments with a roll of her eyes. She gives the whole reunion thing a curious glance or two, listening quietly. Finally, once all the info is gathered, she comments, "So, you all knew one another here?" Hey, she's a new-comer. Not from around these parts. Tender-foot, even. But there's a smile for Rorkes' little girl. "She's cute," is said. "I'm sure she'll fall into the Weyrbrat Horde soon enough. Kids are like that. So much easier to integrate than adults." Wisdom! Yay. Let's hear it for the girl, huh? "Nice to've officially met you, Devan," Rimara says. "Now I can call you something besides 'hey barkeep' when you're working Snowasis," she says with a grin.
"Like. Fifteen turns or so." A'son makes a face at that. "Shards. When did we get so old?" Another bomb explodes in his brain. "You have kids." There's a slow shake of his head. Then he's backing up towards the water and eventually is submerged. His intent becomes clear as a pair of pants come flying out of the water to land on the rocks. He can swim while they dry. "Have fun children herding, Devan!" He calls out from his spot in the lake.
For a moment, Amdis is shy of Devan's big hand, but after a moment, and a glance back at her father, she slides her hand into the older man's and goes skipping off with him and the other children. And Rorkes, relieved of his babysitting duties, steps over to take a seat on a rock and rest for a minute. "Fifteen, sounds about right," he tells A'son. "I've barely even visited since I apprenticed. But we're here to stay, posted now: me and my wife, and our girls--we have a younger one, three. And thanks. I'm sure she is; she was sad to leave all her friends back at Nabol, but she's liking the classes and such here all right, I suppose," is added to Rimara then.
"We used to be these guys," replies Devan, gesturing at the horde. After considering them for a long moment he sniffs and points at one kid who's throwing rocks at the water without making it even close. "I was probably that one." And then, after a quick look, he finds another kid, who's wiping his nose on his wrist. "A'son was that one." /Ha/. Ok, really. "Ha, or you could keep callin' me that. Reckon you'd get one or the other of us, since there's usually two. But you know that." Fifteen turns. "Yikes," is all he has to say about that. A'son's off, so he cups a hand around his mouth to shout, "Come have a drink later, I'll be workin'." And off he skips, with a wave bye for everyone, following along after Amdis as if she actually has the strength to pull him behind her.