[Log] Their Own Tricks
Who: E'sere, Issa
When: Day 22, Month 1, Turn 2, 7th Pass
Where: Issa and Oshisyth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr
What: E'sere and Issa wake up after Oshisyth's flight.
Issa's Weyr
Sumptuous warmth counters the bitter cold of a High Reaches winter, delicious browns and flushed bronzes cloaking the drab stone of the walls. Rich russet curtains cover the arched entrance from the ledge, either hanging heavily to keep out the cold or pulled back with a strong rope. Immediately to the right from the ledge, is a hearth, surrounded by a small sitting area. As for seating, there's two choices: a long couch, worn to a faded rust color, placed at an angle with the hearth, and a chair, high-backed and upholstered in smooth copper. The rug beneath them is an intricate weaving of sand and sage, forming a tangle of vines that culminate in the center, where a large wooden chest conceals the most convoluted loops.
The hearth itself is a meager one, tiny in the large stone wall, dominated by the tall tapestry that hangs above it. On the tapestry, a light green, rather disproportioned shape that resembles a dragon sinuously flames at nothing in particular, locked in by a scrolling knot pattern around the edges.
The entirety of the wall opposite the hearth is taken up by the dragon couch, with flattened furs and riding straps strewn across it, infringing on the center space of the already cramped and cozy weyr.
The last splash of color comes from a curtain concealing the deepeer alcove, mirroring the larger curtains across the entrance in color and position. Through it, a glimpse of a tall bed can be seen, covered in a pile of disheveled furs and pillows dyed to a deep mahogany.
Contents:
Issa
Obvious exits:
Ledge
The sun after last night's snowstorm somehow chances to creep all the way to the back of the weyr and through the tiny alcove's doorway. A small square of it lies dormant on the stone floor at the foot of the bed, covered in now-rumpled furs and blankets. Issa lies underneath one of those furs, sprawled on her back with one arm looped under a pillow, only half of her body concealed by the bedding. A small stir and she nestles further into the crook of the pillow, eyes squinting even tighter shut.
Consciousness returns slowly to E'sere, the bronzerider stirring himself as sunlight creeps into the weyr, much like Issa. Unlike her, however, he only blinks groggily at it and raises a hand to rub at the side of his face until his eyes can adjust to the change of light, at which point he levers himself to his elbows to take stock of his surroundings. Strange weyr, check. Strange greenrider, ch--oh. He observes Issa a moment, finally quirking a brow slightly as she burrows into the pillow. For the moment, he doesn't move to wake her the rest of the way up.
A groggy groan, stifled partially by the pillow, sounds from the prone greenrider. But Issa's eyes blink slowly open, despite her protest at the morning's arrival. Pulling her hand out from behind the pillow, she stretches drowsily, then goes limp, her hand falling to rub the sleep from her eyes. Turning onto her side and unintentionally mirroring E'sere's propped up position, she pauses, mouth open, to stare at E'sere blankly for a moment. Recognition, recollection floods her features and she flops back down again, unconcerned, causing her already flipping, bed-matted hair into more disarray. "Good morning, E'sere," comes out in a hoarse tone.
"Good morning," E'sere replies, his smile a little sleepy still as he observes Issa. "Not a morning person? I hope I didn't wake you up when I started moving around. I'd say I was trying not to, but." He shakes his head wryly and runs a hand through his own tangled hair, fingers tugging loose the worst couple of tangles in the shaggy mess. Again, he glances around, taking in the weyr in more detail before glancing back to his companion.
"Nuh-uh," Issa replies, a response hardly needed as she's already closed her eyes again, briefly, drowsily, obviously not welcoming the morning. They open again, grey-blue taking in the bronzerider as he gazes around at the cramped space. The mahogany wardrobe over in the corner, the utilitarian chair next to the bed, strewn with her clothes from last night, the pitcher of water standing on shelves near the door, shelves of a small collection of hand-copied hides. "It's okay. I'm awake now." And yes, eyes are open, though she does remain in her flopped postion, pulling the fur closer to her chin to combat the chill. "Convenient way to pass the time before gallavanting off to Igen, hm?"
E'sere is in no hurry himself, lingering himself and finally abandoning his somewhat uncomfortable propped-up position in favor of stetching back out, much like Issa. "Indeed. If it weren't for drills, I'd not be myself," he admits after a moment. "But I've discovered it's better to just go ahead and get them over with, in general. But, yes. I suppose so," is his answer to her latter question, brows arching as he tilts his head to observe her. "Glad we got that out of the way beforehand, actually--Igen might not have appreciated it there."
Issa doesn't observe back, and merely stays staring at the ceiling at a lazy laugh winds its way up out of her mouth. "Yes, not very diplomatic, that." Her arm is cocked at an angle, hand lying next to her head and twisting a curl in between her fingers. "We've arrived, now please excuse me while my dragon bloods your herd and distracts your riders. I'm off to sleep with them all now." The mock situation finds her voice an octave higher, mimicing the bubbly tones of a more stereotypical female greenrider.
E'sere cracks a smile at Issa's mockery, brows arching upward. "Mmhmm. I bet their greens wouldn't appreciate being upstaged by some interloper, either, though the males might enjoy it all the more. Oshisyth could probably teach them a few Reaches tricks they'd not know. I'm surprised Morelenth could catch her, really--he's not had much luck with greens, historically, especially recently. Though," he adds after a moment, grin broadening at his dragon's expense, "he's had less with golds, I think, the poor fellow."
"Mmm," Issa utters through a low chuckle, drily remarking, "Tricks. Something Oshisyth and I have in droves, that's for sure." With a heaving sigh, she tosses the fur off of her now, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and sitting there for a moment, her back to E'sere. "It's why she tends to like the snowstorms, I think. A small advantage in deceiving the eye." No deceiving the eye here, however. Issa stands, fully bare, and walks casually over to the pitcher, pouring some of the water into the shallow bowl beneath it. "Or just the element of surprise. Unpredictable in her choices, that one." She favors him with a short glance as she leans over to splash water on her face briefly. "But, to his credit, there's not been many golds to chase, as of late," she notes in between splashes.
E'sere sits up again as Issa rises, scooting up to lean against the headboard as he watches Issa mildly. "I suppose so. She threw off more than a few of them--especially when she got up against the rocks. I'll never understand how the greens manage not to hit something--Morelenth couldn't stand between some of those gaps, I think, let alone fly between them." He shakes his head a moment, then stretches his arms and shoulders slowly befre adding, "No, there's not been. I keep expecting that to be remedied soon, but no luck yet. They've their own tricks, I suppose."
"They're female, aren't they?" Issa's voice comes from behind a small towel as she pats her face dry, and when she lowers it, a smirk plays over her lips. Now it's her turn to observe, watching E'sere stretch, her eyes subtly appreciative. "So I suppose you expect to catch if Citalth flies next?" she asks, her voice almost too casual as she tosses aside the towel and leans against the shelves with an outstretched hand for a brief moment.
"I don't expect," E'sere remarks casually, making a show of straightening the furs on the bed as much as he can without actually having to get up, "the identity of the gold to matter. I always expect the best--being optimistic always seems to help the cause." Pause. He glances back up at Issa, quirking a faint smirk. "If I were a betting man, though, I'd probably give Morelenth slightly better odds with Citalth--he's caught her before, and I doubt she's as wily as Nenuith. We've never even been able to come close to catching her."
E'sere's first words conjure up a raised eyebrow from Issa as she quirks her head to the side. "You don't expect..." Issa mumbles on repeat, as she walks over to the wardrobe, her facial expression hidden while E'sere finished talking. "Seems logical," she finally responds, slipping into a set of clothes that she's picked out. "And having the rider's... good favor doesn't hurt much either. I might wager, myself."
Issa's dressing is E'sere's cue, as he slides out of the furs himself, straightening them habitually after him. A quick glance around finds his own clothes and he gathers them up as he starts to dress as well. "I suppose not," he agrees. "That can certainly affect a dragon's choice of mate." He pauses, glancing around at Issa a moment and then adding, "I'm no better, though--I don't plan on falling /out/ of the Weyrwoman's favor, either. Though, certainly, the situation with Sinopa is somewhat different." His mouth twists wryly as he glances downward, buttoning his shirt now.
Issa pulls on a turtleneck over her head, emerging with her eyes on the bronzerider. "Exactly," Issa says, wording carefully chosen now, "I didn't mean to insinuate that you /weren't/ in the Weyrwoman's favor. Just extremely /in/ Sinopa's favor." The lack of title for the junior weyrwoman is as evident as the innuendo underlying her words that garners a small, short-lived smile from the greenrider. She searches for a jacket in amongst the other clothes, but stops when she remembers where she left it. So in the interim, she leans one shoulder against the closed door of the wardrobe, watching E'sere get dressed and waiting for him to be done.
E'sere, finishing with his shirt, turns around and studies Issa a moment, his smile dry in turn. "Ah, of course. I understand," he agrees, ducking his head briefly. Glancing back up at her, he notes, "I suppose you're right, though. The poor girl needs... Mm. Looking after, really--Mother and the Weyrwoman certainly do try their best, but. She would dispute that, I'm sure." He shrugs mildly, expression wry. "Anyway. I should be on my way, I suppose," decides the man after a moment, offering the greenrider a more sincere smile.
Issa's eyes widen a bit and lower to the ground as she shakes her head slowly. "I know," she mutters, turning her gaze on E'sere again. "It amazes me that she..." She stops herself. "But that's neither here nor there." Her head falls against the wood of the wardrobe and a smile of her own settles on her lips in response to his. "Mm, yes, probably should. I've got to get Oshisyth ready for drills soon... She's out on the ledge now." Issa gestures out the doorway to the larger living area of the weyr, waiting for E'sere to pass her on the way out before she moves herself.
"That she...?" queries E'sere, pausing a moment, tilting his head at the greenrider. Still, he nods, smile blooming again as he steps for the door. "Right. And I'll enjoy my day off--my wingsecond will have gone ahead without me by now," he notes lightly, a teasing note in his voice as he steps out to the ledge. "Good day, Issa."
"Nothing," Issa replies, brushing it off with a tiny wave of her hand. Apparently this isn't a day for divulging. "I'm glad I could help you shirk your duties," comes next, teasing note mirrored as she smirks drily over her shoulder at him, "Bye." And she remains in the alcove a while longer, letting him find his own way out as the sound of the wardrobe door shutting forcefully can be heard from all the way out in the weyr proper.