[Log] Up to Snuff
Who: Breide, I'neph
When: Day 20, Month 4, Turn 44
Where: Breide's Weyr, Benden Weyr
What: Breide and I'neph chat about the state of the Weyr and its future.
Breide's Weyr Spring. Partly Cloudy. 49F / 9C.
Featuring high-sloped walls leading up towards rounded out ceilings, this mid-sized cavern is situated in the center of the row of personal weyrs - right in the thick of things. What the weyr lacks for in size, it makes up for in details, the little things that make it charming: from vertical protrusions at intervals, with delicate leaves carved up along each side with hooks made for glow lanterns and hollowed out blossoming flowers meant to hold candles, to the slim mantel constructed over the hearth.
A wallow near the opening, deep and smooth despite disuse and clear of rodents' nests, has been thrown over with sweetened fresh rushes for Rielth and close by this draconic bed sits a bare desk and simple chair. Situated between two of the vertical wall ornaments, far in the corner of the weyr, lies a rotund bed, thrown over in sheets and furs of warm colors: autumn golds and sensuous reds. The sleeping area, with its antique wardrobe, are sectioned off by layers on layers of filmy fabric of semi-expense, trader goods from the looks of them. A large rug warms the center of the weyr near the hearth both with its vibrant colors and the way it helps heat up the cave.
-- Players --
Breide.........Energetic, confident, curvy. Pretty in a very obvious/common way.
I'neph.........6', athletic; olive skin, dark brown eyes & hair; mid/late 20s. Cute but worthless.
-- Dragons --
Rielth.........Gold dragon.
-- Exits --
Out......................[O]
What about a large stack of hides makes Breide smile is something only she and Rielth will probably ever know, but as the young weyrwoman makes her way through her work, the small smile of pure satisfaction lingers.
"Hey," I'neph says as he strolls into the weyr like he belongs. He saunters on over to lean up against her desk in the process, moving to peer at the hides she's looking at, presumably to see just what's so interesting.
It's all mundane really, the one in Breide's immediate vicinty filled with reports on the lower caverns and how long people can be fed, the top hide on the to do stack one of dragonhealing. "Hey!" Unsurprised by the interruption, the blonde looks up and flashes the entering bronzerider a bright smile. "How's it going, 'neph? Has Dioscuth been flexing his wings yet?"
"You know him," says I'neph, as he reaches to push one hide further away so he can actually sit on the desk instead of just lean against him. "Course he is. What're you working on, anything interesting?"
"Just some stuff, seeing if we can get fed better than we are now, not that," Breide remarks, her tongue protruding thoughtfully out the corner of her mouth, "Sh'van hasn't been doing his part and whoever's been supplementing our meals with fresh fruit." Studiously, the goldrider doesn't look I'neph's way, instead looking back down at the hide right before her. "You? How's your wing coming along?"
I'neph eyes Breide, brows knitting as she doesn't look at him. "They're... good," he answers slowly. "You know, doing wingish things. Settling in good--I did a real good thing, getting an Istan for my wingsecond, you know? Really unites us all. Pause. "What do you mean, not doing his part?"
"I meant," Breide blinks up from her work and then laughs, "I meant, /not that/ Sh'van hasn't been doing his part. Whatever magic he worked with the holders, I'd love to have a pinch of it for my pinky." Said pinky wiggles lightly, reaching over to try and play beneath I'neph's chin teasingly. "I met your wingsecond, had a few words. He's...," pause, "Interesting." An entirely diplomatic way of saying it, really.
"Oh." I'neph blinks, frowns to be corrected thusly. He then shrugs it off and leans his weight back on his hands, taking up more desk surface. "Well, I don't really think he did that much," he protests finally. "I mean, you don't see /him/ bringing in much food. The fruit people are the ones actually working."
Breide's hand flattens beneath I'neph's chin, balancing off her chair tall enough so she can kiss his cheek lightly, reassurance in the gesture. "Right, exactly. The fruit people are the ones risking life, limb, and Weyr reputation to get us all fed. Faranth bless those fruit people. So." Back down into her chair the weyrwoman drops, thudding as she does so, "Your wingsecond's bet on Jasmyth rising first. What're you betting on, Iro?"
"E'drai bet against you?" I'neph's brows arch, and he tilts his head slightly. "Huh. I bet he just picked somebody, you know? Would've figured you'd've made a better impression on him than Zaorine." He smirks, adds, "I'm with you, of course."
Breide's hand drops and then both hands follow the curves of her body lightly, fully aware, and smirks. "He says betting for Jasmyth isn't betting against me. Men think too simply." A telltale look drops to I'neph's crotch and then lifts slowly. "I hope you've sense better than to bet against me and Rielth."
"Faranth, yes," says I'neph, snorting like Breide's crazy for thinking otherwise. "All my marks'll be on you, same as ever. Can't say I think much of Zaorine, and anyway, Dioscuth ain't never caught Jasmyth, so." A shrug.
"Gooood," Breide drawls out, beaming cheerfully up at her clutchmate, and sometimes lover. "I promise you, you'll make your marks back twice, thrice over. Promise." Self-assured, though no more than what her normal confidence lends, the blonde moves the report on food stores aside and brings forward the dragonhealing reports. "E'drai doesn't have a high opinion of Zaorine at any rate. She's doing no service for herself by not bridging the Istan-Fortian gap."
"Like I am," I'neph answers Breide's last cheerfully, smirking. "And I'm sure I will, you know? Maybe lay down a few marks on myself to win, too--nobody knows Rielth like Dioscuth, after all. It's a shoo-in."
Breide secrets a smile, the hints of it hovering about her mouth like little brackets of all-knowing - a look she favors I'neph with kindly. Her sly spoken: "No one knows the twists of Rielth's body like Dioscuth," could very well be said of the riders with the names replaced what with the way she turns charming dark eyes onto the bronzerider. Her hand even reaches out to plant over I'neph's gently. "Have you had any thoughts of what you'd like to do when it all comes 'round?"
"Weeeelll..." I'neph says smugly, in that tone that indicates he's put quite a lot of thought into it, actually. "I was thinking I can go make nice with the holders, and if that fails, well. Not be nice. One way or another, we're gonna get what's ours. And then, I'm going to get those wings into shape, and... hmm. Some other little things, but those are the biggest, you know?"
Breide's fingers play a dance across the back of I'neph's hand in a soothing rhythm. Her chin falls into the other hand, upheld and propped up by the elbow. "Aye, those are the big issues. What does your wingsecond think?"
I'neph pauses. Plainly, he's not put quite so much thought into /that/. "Oh. Well." Pause. "We haven't actually discussed that yet," he admits breezily then, "but we're getting together tomorrow, actually, to... you know. Discuss wing business, and I was already planning on mentioning it."
Breide reaches up to tug lightly at I'neph's ear lobe. "I'm sure you'll think of everything you need to in due time, you're like that. Always on top of things, right? And if you need any help," the arm drops and spreads self-deprecatingly, "I'm only a dragon's call away. Has Dioscuth talked to Chaemith lately?"
I'neph wrinkles his nose, reaching up to his ear when Breide tugs it. "Oh, sure, I know," he agrees, nodding. "We can talk about it some day, though, really. I got it well in hand." Pause. "No!" he retorts feelingly to the latter question. "We don't talk to /him/."
"Awww," Breide drawls, shrugging her shoulder all girlishly as she stares up at I'neph with baby soft browns. "Why not? Don't you want to see Chaemith when Rielth rises, just for the satisfaction of knowing he'll be left in the dust?" Clearly teasing, the goldrider organizes her papers and gets up from her seat to round about the table. A hip finds the edge nearest I'neph and, casually, she leans in closer to the bronzerider smelling of feminine lightness and flowers.
"Weeell..." I'neph says slowly, tapping his chin with one hand, then glancing at Breide as she presses against him. "You got a point there. I might go back and visit him later, you know? After I got the Weyr in order. Just to see how he's doing, him and that girl of his." He nods slowly.
She's good at pressing against men, and does it so cutely too, what with one shoulder up, her head tilted so her blonde hair spills, and her smile so simply sweet as it looks up. "You do that, and tell me how Raine's doing too with her new worshipper. I'd like to know how Fort's holding up now that Zao and I have left." Breide sighs, sinking against I'neph further somehow and relaxing. "We should take a vacation together before Rielth rises. Somewhere. A remote island in Ista maybe?"
"A vacation?" I'neph perks right up at that suggestion, glancing down at Breide with a smirk. "When you want to go? I can ask E'drai to cover for me in drills, I guess. I mean, I have them in enough order I figure he can handle it for a little while."
"Y'sure?" Breide asks smoothly, running a hand up to tousle in the close cut crew hair I'neph has - there's not much tousling there. "Might wanna make absolute sure E'drai's up to snuff." The woman shrugs, "But what do I know, I've never really run a wing and the queens' wing," she pauses, "Isn't quite the same as a fighting wing."
"Don't worry," I'neph says, ducking that hand and reaching up to reorder his hair. "I know what I'm doing. E'drai can handle it, trust me."
Breide shrugs again, dubious, but conceding to the wingleader's better judgment. "Just be careful, doll, y'might've met your match in that Istan. I've mind for a walk to the kitchens for something to eat. Come with?" Without asking, she slips her arm about the bronzerider's elbow and snugs in chummily.
"Psh," I'neph blows off Breide's cautioning, even as he hops off the desk to his feet. "Sure, dinner sounds good," he agrees, smirking, then setting off with her clinging to his side.