[Log] Our New 3C Wingsecond
Who: D'ven, E'sere
When: Day 28, Month 5, Turn 2, 7th Pass
Where: Southern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
What: E'sere meets D'ven.
Southern Bowl
The bowl floor is a broad expanse of gravel and dust, packed flat over decades of dragonweight landing on it. Kept free of vegetation, the only color variation across the vast hollow of the bowl are the dragons, in good weather often found sunning on low ledges or sprawled along the floor itself. The well-worn, charcoal-grey walls of the bowl are nearly vertical, far too steep for even the most adventurous climber to attempt. The rim of the bowl, marked by a rainbow of perching dragons at all times of the day, is topped with massive stone spires that stretch upwards into the blue vault of the sky. There are seven in all, great black fingers of stone that seem, from where you stand, to touch the clouds.
Here the lake dominates the bowl floor, wind-scattered waves lapping at the gravel shore. A few scrawny shrubs to the southeast mark the fenced-in enclosure of the feeding grounds, bordered on its southwestern edge by the lake itself. Following the wall here will lead to the entrance to the weyrling complex and, past that, the stairs that lead to the guest weyr. On the other side of the lake is a vast, yawning tunnel curving upwards slightly, connecting to the long road leading away from High Reaches Weyr. Adjoining the exit is the high arch of the infirmary entrance.
It's a windy day, the gusts and breezes chilly with humidity. Though the air is still filled with the promising scents of spring, the low temperatures and constant assault by capricious winds will keep many indoors.
Contents:
D'ven Arhoth Yaneth
Obvious Exits:
Caucus Barracks (CB) Dragon Barracks (DB) Northern Bowl (NB)
Infirmary (INF) Guest Weyr (GW) Weyrling Complex (WC)
Feeding Grounds (FG) Exit Tunnel (ET)
D'ven
This man is tall, about six foot. His build is solid, though not overweight, and well-muscled from turns of intense physical activity. His skin is permenantly tanned, that healthy darkening that indicates a large portion of his lifetime spent outside. His face looks like it was chiseled from stone, with strong cheeks and a square jaw. Sparkling blue eyes sit on either side of a roman nose. Golden blond hair sits atop his head, kept in a neat flat-top crewcut.
D'ven wears fine riding leathers, clearly well cared for. His entire ensemble, jacket, pants, boots, belt, and gloves, are made of black leather that occasionally shines as it catches the light. The cuffs and collar of his jacket are trimmed with brown wool. On one shoulder is the knot of a Wingsecond of High Reaches, with a twist of bronze for his lifemate. On the other, at the top the sleeve, is a small extravagance. Picked out with simple embroidery, are the four Aces of a dragonpoker deck, spread out with slight overlapping as though layed out in a hand.
D'ven has found somewhere to lean in the bowl that's out of the way. Specifically, it's against one of the walls. He's currently watching the world go by, and ignoring the funny looks he's getting now and again.
A dinnertime conversation extends outside as E'sere and one of his wingriders exit the living cavern, setting off across the bowl along its wall. They stop near D'ven's little corner to finish up the quiet talk, the other man finally heading off to join his blue, while E'sere lingers there, watching him go in silence for several moments longer.
D'ven's eyes fall on the conversation between E'sere and his rider, though he makes no move to get closer or eavesdrop. When the rider wanders off, his eyes stay on the other bronzerider who has chosen to linger.
After a couple more seconds of this, when his rider is well away, E'sere glances sideways askance at D'ven, brows arching slightly at the other rider's regard of him. "Evening," he offers after a moment. "Wingsecond," is added after a moment, knot habitually inspected.
"Evening Wingleader." D'ven replies with a friendly smile. "How are you this evening? Well, I trust." He pauses, before adding. "My name's D'ven, by the way. Bronze Teraneth's." He holds out a hand, then.
"Our new 3C wingsecond, yes," agrees E'sere--news travels fast, apparently, though he still scans over the other bronzerider's form briefly, politely curious, before he offers his own introduction. "E'sere, Morelenth's. I'm quite well, thank you. And you? Adjusting, are you?"
D'ven nods. "That's right. And yeah, I'm quite well." He smiles again. "The adjustment is made easier by the fact I spent three turns at Caucus here, so I know my way around and so forth."
"It's still a change, I'd expect," notes E'sere, glancing away to study a few other passing people. "Very different, when you've no expectation of going home again when your service is over. Three turns... Let's see. Right prior to the Pass, was it? It must have been, I expect--three turns ago was right when I left it and took control of 2C, my wing."
"Well, that's true." D'ven admuits, though he dosn't sound too bothered. "Anyway, Reaches is home now." He replies, seeming to mean it. "And yes, it was. 198-2000, to be precise."
"I thought so," says E'sere, pleased. "I remember several people from that class, though I can't say I was close to any of them--too many new duties then." He lifts his shoulders, an idle shrug. For a moment, he's silent. Then: "How is your wingleader?"
D'ven nods, before smiling. "He's quite well, thank you." He replies, seeming both proud and fond of his superior. "I'll be sure to tell him you asked after him. Do you want me to give him your regards?"
E'sere nods once, quirking a half-smile in return. "If you don't mind, please," he agrees. "He seems a good man, from what I know of him. You knew him at Benden, I assume?"
"It'd be a pleasure." D'ven replies, before practically glowing with pride. "He's a very good man, yes. And yes, we stood together, Impressed together, went through Weyrlinghood together." Ah, such fond memories. "He was always the sensible one who kept us out of the worst of troubles."
"Oh, really?" prompts E'sere, cocking his head promptingly.
"Yes. I mean, we weren't /bad/ or anything. Just boisterous and with a tendancy to run away with ourselves. He always acted as a break. Advised caution, and let us know when we were getting close to the lines. You know how it is, there's a sensible one in every group."
E'sere quirks a brow in answer to that. "I suppose," he agrees after a moment, nodding once. "I suppose I can understand that. I'm rather afraid I was always the sensible one of my group--though, I imagine, by your standards, wingsecond, we'd all have been sensible," he cracks a larger grin.
"Quite possibly." D'ven replies with a returned grin, and a chuckle. Then he realises what E'sere is probably refering to, and tones his grin down a notch. "Well, I was never /that/ bad."
Again, E'sere queries simply, "Oh?"
Immath enters from the weyrling complex.
Immath has arrived.
D'ven sighs. "You know how it is. You have an argument, and it turns into beating a man near to death." He can't help but smile somewhat, though it is rueful. "I hoped I'd left the various rumors and nasty looks at Benden, not that it bothers me too much."
With Essdara and Tavaly aboard, Immath pauses outside the Weyrling Training Cavern, wings stretching out. Hearing voices, her rider leans over, waving to folks just before the green launches upwards. gaining altitude quickly.
Immath leaps into the air.
Immath has left.
"Ah, yes. That," says E'sere, in a tone that declares he knew that all along. He lifts his shoulders again, matching a smile to D'ven's. "Word gets around fast here, though I suppose you've learned that already. Rumors are the same the world over, really--they always get exaggerated in the retelling," he notes wryly as he lifts a hand in recognition of Tavaly.
"You're right, of course." D'ven nods in agreement, seeming to recognise Tavaly and returning the wave. "Anyway, I'm sure things will settle down once the excitement of a newish face goes away."
"Probably," agrees E'sere with a nod. "There are, I'm sure, topics more pressing than yourself, no offense meant."
"None taken." D'ven laughs, seeming amused by the idea he might be offended. "I quite agree."
E'sere's grin broadens, and he nods again toward the other bronzerider. "I should be on my way, though; good luck with 3C, wingsecond," he offers after a moment, wryly. "They deserve as much this time."
D'ven smiles. "Thanks. And hopefully I'll be able to live up to what they deserve." He too begins to make his own way to whereve he might be going. "By the way, if you're interesting in drinks at all you should stop by my weyr sometime. I've got a few things you might like."
E'sere, after taking a couple of steps away, pauses, turning back to regard D'ven with interest. "Drinks?" he asks.
"Drinks." D'ven replies, grinning at the obvious interest. "After all, every man has to have a hobby." The latter is added with a wink.
E'sere quirks a broader smile. "I see. Thank you, then. I'll be sure to take you up on it sometime. Good night, wingsecond." With that, he turns to meet up with his own ride him, Morelenth lounging by the lake.