[Log] Man Overboard
Who: L'sen, Maja, Morowen, Rathin
When: Day 21, Month 4, Turn 7, 11th Interval
Where: Diving Cliffs, High Reaches Weyr; Lake, High Reaches Weyr
What: Rathin gets an impromptu chance to swim in the cold lake, courtesy of Maja.
Diving Cliff
Soft, resolute, and dreamlike, the day's ending sunlight provides for an eerie gaze across the Weyr, not to the worn, stone steps that disappear into this flat area resting high above the waters below. Huddled families of rocks, boulders and pebbles lay strewn around the edges of the clifftop. The sandy center of the half-plateau seems to have been cleared of any debris and the area provides enough room, sitting or standing, for many people. A small journey to the edge of the precipice reveals the true use of this place. The deep, midnight-blue waters of the lake shimmer below in the dimming light, and the shorn patch of rock near the edge proves that many a person has felt the thrill of a swift flight from this clifftop, only to be enveloped by the chilly waters of the Weyr lake.
The evening seems darker than usual behind overcast skies. A light hail drops from the sky. It is completely still, no winds blow and the spring air feels a bit nippy. The ground beneath your feet is wet from the last storm.
It looks like it might be fun to 'jump' or 'dive' off the cliff into the water.
Contents:
Morowen
Rathin
Obvious exits:
Path
Morowen
A tall lanky man with deep brown hair, and eyes that change color almost the same as those of a dragon. They form a focal point in his slightly oval face, with well groomed hair cut close to his head, and a smile always playing at the edge of his mouth. When he talks there is a slight Bitran accent betraying his place of birth, but it is now early unnoticable.
He is wearing a simple tunic of a dark blue that fits neatly over his thin body, and long trousers of a light brown. also a candidate knot of black and blue with a white thread sits on his sholder. around his waist is a small belt of leather with a swirling design carved directly into it, and a beautiful buckle that must have cost almost a turns worth of work to buy. On his feet are simple, but practical boots of wherhide with leather bindings, that look tough but comfortable. he is 22 Turns, 6 months, and 12 days old.
Rathin
Clear, firm lines denote his facial features within an oval shaped face, light blue eyes set under bushy eyebrows. His hair is generally scruffy and falls long enough to touch the back of his collar, the sandy color leaning more often towards brown than blonde without the aid of sun. His skin holds a fast-fading tan, though still has enough color to it that hints at natural heritage. He stands perhaps a smidge above average height, but not so tall that he stands out overly much, somewhere around 5'11". It's clear that he takes good care of his body, for it would be difficult to find an ounce of fat on him - he has some bulk, but much of it is muscle. His age, at a guess, could be placed somewhere at early twenties.
His clothing is an odd composition of weathered-hand-me-downs and brand-new-smell-the-leather pieces. A loose blue linen shirt was clearly made for someone much larger than him; it hangs loosely on his frame, and is laced up at the front in a v shape. His boots are patchy and look as if they may well be on their last legs, though they're mostly covered by the long cuffs of his grey trousers which are held up in turn by a new leather belt; a serviceable knife with a worn handle hangs from it. The leather jacket he wears, lined with fur, appears to be a new addition to his wardrobe, still holding the stiff lines that suggest it hasn't been worn in yet. He wears a slightly worn knot marking him as a candidate of High Reaches Weyr.
L'sen
In his late teens now, L'sen is a tall, bulky lad, solidly built. Having reached the height of 6'3", he's saved from any gawkiness or ranginess by a generous amount of muscle. His hair is shaggy sun-streaked blonde, eyes a faded blue; he has the tanned skin of an outdoorsman. L'sen's face is open and honest, with strong, masculine features and a line of straight, white teeth, often displayed in a broad grin.
Like most 19-turn-old males, L'sen doesn't consider fashion a high priority. His clothes are plain and functional, work-worn from the toils of his life. He wears the knot of a High Reaches bluerider with the patch of Avalanche wing.
Morowen nods, "Yes fire can be fought with fire, but it only adds to the ferocity and only causes more burns. I know that what's done is done, but in future, you should always reflect upon your actions before you go through with them. Acting without thinking will create more problems then it solves, and you should remember that. I don't think any less of you for what you did, but I only hope for your sake you can keep a level head in future confrontations."
Rathin and Morowen are standing at the very edge of the diving cliff, having a discussion that is, if not quite heated, definitely intense. Rathin's holding his jacket despite the lingering chill of the passing storm, attention focused on his fellow candidate. "You should think less of me," the erstwhile trader opines, serious. "You really should. As for reflecting on my actions-- life would be boring if I did that. People given too long to think tend to live to regret their hesitations. Opportunity doesn't just wait around for you to decide on what to do."
Morowen rolls his eyes, "The oppurtunity to insult others is always what is at the top of my agenda" He sarcastically says. Then, "Theres a difference between quick thinking and no thinking at all."
"I haven't been up here in forever," remarks L'sen, pausing halfway to the edge of the cliff to glance backward. Neiveth is below, splashing about theatrically in the lake, and the blue offers an answering brassy rumble up to his rider. L'sen grins hugely at whatever words pass between them, then turns back to continue walking, eyes lighting up as he finds people there. Heedless of the nature of their conversation, he throws in an enthusiastic wave and approached. "Morowen, hi!" he greets the candidate he knows first.
"Perhaps it should be." And now Rathin is apparently back to being mocking once more. "Does this mean you had to think in order to -not- throw me off the cliff?" A hand gestures vaguely out, amused, though it lowers as he hears another arrival, half turning in that direction to eye L'sen carefully. No greeting offered just yet.
Morowen grins at L'sen "Hey there! How ya doing?", Turning back to Rathin, "Yes I did, the consequences outweighed the gains, so I decided against proceeding with that course of action, I thought about it, ...you should try doing that sometime."
"Hi--hey, didn't I meet you, sort of--?" L'sen says, stepping over to the other two men and peering first to Rathin. He cocks his head curiously, then shrugs and turns that grin on Morowen. "I'm good, how 'bout you?" he returns. "Hey, what'd you think of Igen, anyway? Did I do good, or did I do good? Because I ain't never done anything like that before, but then it sounded good, and Deneth liked it--I just wish Te'an had been around, but still--so, um." He breaks off abruptly, perhaps realizing the rambling. "So, what's going on?" he asks then, peering between the two again.
Rathin's back to studying Morowen sidelong, a slight tip of his head given. "They'll be no consequences from my end." he promises, voice solemn, soft undertone, "If you don't believe me on that score, ask Maja." He scratches his right cheek, by no coincidence at all. His eyes stray back to L'sen as the rider comes closer, agreeing with deliberate indifference, "Probably." Then, with a slight smile: "Morowen and I were just enjoying the weather. Not to mention the view."
Morowen nods to L'sen, "I'm doing great, i'm always happy during a rainstorm. And yes, thanks for taking me to Igen, it was a nice change from the Reaches, I enjoyed it.", looking at Rathin, "Sad the girls didn't want to jump with you?"
L'sen glances out over the water and the land below, nodding. "It is nice, innit?" he agrees. "I always did like it up here, I just never get around to coming much, you know what I mean?" A shrug; he unceremoniously settles onto the stone underfoot, knees pulled up and arms looped loosely around them while he glances up at the two older candidates. "I'm L'sen, in case you don't know. Down there, that's Neiveth. I'm glad you liked it, though. It's nice to visit, you know? But I wouldn't want to live there--way too hot. I like the cold 'n' the snow and stuff." He directs the words between Rathin first and then Morowen.
"Inconsolable." Rathin's prompt answer to Morowen is accompanied by a hand held to his chest, and a breathy exhale. Of course, the expected grin ruins the otherwise flawless performance. He nods in easy greeting to L'sen, eventually supplying, "Rathin," though his gaze drifts towards the water below, noting the presence of said dragon. "You like the cold?" he echoes L'sen, with a look, "I bet you're real close with Satiet, aren't you?"
Maja climbs up the winding path from the lake shore.
Maja has arrived.
Maja
Maja is formidably tall, shadowing many of her female peers at a stature of 6 feet, 2 inches. She is physically tough: her arms and legs are defined and sinewy. Neither her frame nor her face is masculine, though she does not emphasize her rounded hips and breast. Her oblong face, small nose, thin lips, and large brown eyes are the only delicate features about her, though she does not allow her straight, thick, dark hair to frame her face, instead tying her hair back.
She wears tight black trousers held up by a belt, both plain: they are simply useful and out of the way. Her long-sleeved shirt is tight as well, though made of a thick brown fabric to keep heat close to her body. A three-button vest is worn over her shirt, made of leather, outwardly plain, yet is filled on the reverse side with pockets. She wears leather boots with thick soles that are buckled tightly around her midcalf.
Maja is 23 Turns, 6 months, and 15 days old.
"Satiet?" L'sen's eyes widen, and he nods quickly, still grinning that not-quite-all-there grin of his up at Rathin. He's seated at the edge of the cliff, Morowen and Rathin standing nearby. "Oh, yeah. She's, like, one of my two best friends, you know what I mean? So you know her, too, huh?"
"I should've figured." Rathin mutters, eyes rolling skywards. "I wasn't aware she -had- friends." His tone is derisive, and it seems deliberate, given that he glances at Morowen as if to point out his blithe ignorance of the other candidate's advice. He shifts his feet slightly, and a rock goes tumbling over the edge of the cliff, earning another look.
Maja seems to be almost reluctantly trudging up the cliff, her eyes fixed on the people she'll run into one she's reached the top. Her arms are crossed and she doesn't appear to be in the most receptive of moods. If the moonlight struck her right, white flour might be seen lightly dusting her sleeves and pant legs. "What are you three up here doing?" she queries once she's reached the top, and she tilts her head to the side. "You're taking up my spot."
Rathin offers a mocking bow to Maja. "I'm sure we didn't mean to interrupt your planned moment of feminine introspection. I'll be out of your way as soon as Morowen throws me over." His thumb jerks over his shoulder, towards the water. "I'm afraid it could be a long wait. Would you care to substitute for him?" He holds out his hands, looking at her expectantly.
L'sen's brows knit in confusion. "Um. Doesn't... everybody have friends?" he wonders. "I mean, okay, maybe she don't have as many as, say, me, but still. She's got 'em. I think." Then: "Hi, Maja!" he greets the new arrival. "Come to join us? Wait. What? You want to get thrown off? How come?" he wonders, attention reverting to Rathin.
Maja immediately raises her eyebrows at Rathin. "Oh," she blinks a moment at Morowen, then immediately strides over to Rathin. "Well, if he won't... -- Does it matter, L'sen?" She stops behind him and stretches her arms behind her back.
Morowen chuckles, "Well he did ask or it, so I see no harm in it all." He walks over to the edge and looks down, "Have fun falling Rathin."
"Two female nurses await me," Rathin breathes, staring off into the distance and sighing melodramatically. He holds the pose for half a second, before draping his jacket over a nearby rock before he edges back, half a step, until he's at the very edge of the cliff, back to the open space. His gaze is very evenly on Maja. "No consequences from me," he echoes his statement of earlier, grinning. "Come on, vixen, admit it, you'd enjoy it."
"Just wondering," L'sen answers Maja with a smile. "Hey, we should all go swimming or something. It's warm enough now, you know what I mean?" He scrambles to his feet and steps closer, leaning over the edge himself and then glancing to Morowen. "It is fun. You ever done it?" he wonders. "We can throw you off, too, you know?" Big smile.
Morowen looks at Rathin, "If it's nice down there, I'll come too, but not before you go by the Maja route." He grins mischievously.
Maja's eyes are just as level as Rathin's, and though her lips twitch a moment she doesn't say anything. Shrugging off her own coat and tossing it to the side, she glances down at her flour-dusted shirt and hands. Then, with a quick swoosh of her arms, she tries to grab Rathin around the middle and fling them both off the cliff using her weight. "Hell yes," she'd enjoy it.
Morowen blinks, then strides back from the edge, "Here's to taking a page out of Rathin's book." He walks all the way back about a dragons-length, then twirls on the spot. "L'sen, if I start drowning, get Neiveth to save me please." He takes a running start at the edge, "Goodbye cruel world" and plummets down landing with a splash.
Morowen looks around, then jumps off into the water.
Morowen has left.
Rathin's still watching Maja, and as she steps closer, he grins widely. He was close enough to the edge that even a tiny push would've sent him over. With Maja's weight thrown against him, he immediately disappears off the cliff, and a delighted yell can be heard as he falls down, and a few seconds later, a splash can be heard below.
Rathin looks around, then jumps off into the water.
Rathin has left.
Maja looks around, then jumps off into the water.
Maja has left.
You back up a few steps from the cliff edge. Taking a deep breath, you then sprint off of the cliff, screaming madly and plummetting into the water below!
Lake, High Reaches Weyr
As the cold water of the lake surrounds you, it takes a few moments to become accustomed to the chilly but refreshing water. The Seven Spindles tower above you, their jagged peaks reflecting on the surface of the deep blue water to give an impression of depth as great as the bowl is high. That impression is not far off, since at the center, the lake is easily deep enough for dragons to swim, splash, bathe, and even dive out of the sky.
The even lapping at the shore of the lake can be a soothing sound, and riders, residents, and visitors often come to the lake to float on their backs in the calm center, suspended in the reflection of the sky as though they were dragons flying over the Bowl -- as long as their peace isn't disrupted by firelizards, dragons, or rambunctious youngsters cavorting in the waves, their laughing shouts or happy warbles carrying over the water to echo off the surrounding cliffs.
Contents:
Maja
Rathin
Morowen
Obvious exits:
SHore
Morowen shivers uncontrollably, "Brrrr, this water is frigid, I'm gonna go back to the barracks and get some dry clothes."
Morowen has left.
At the lake shore, Morowen wades out of the lake, dripping.
At the lake shore, Morowen heads away from the lake shore, back to the main bowl.
It takes some time for Rathin to resurface, given how far into the water he actually goes. He whoops delightedly, pushing wet hair back from his face before he casts around for the others. A grin is given to the departing Morowen, and though the water -is- cold, he lingers, making sure the others made it okay.
On the cliff, laughing, L'sen watches Maja, then the flight of Rathin, and finally Morowen. "Yeah, sure! Hey, wait! Don't everybody leave me!" he yells down. Then, with a whoop of his own, he takes a leap into the water and comes up snickering still, though sputtering water in the meantime. He rakes a hand through his now-dark blonde hair, pushing it back. "It's not /that/ bad," he tells Morowen then, smirking. "But hey, see you later." Neiveth, having watched the four jumpers from further out in the lake, turns speculatively eyes from the diving cliff to the water again, rumbling and paddling closer.
Maja lets go of Rathin once they hit the water, and ends up surfacing three or four feet away from him. Her hair is plastered to her head and her clothes tangle up in her paddling. While she's not laughing, she does have rather worrying smile on her face. "And Morowen wouldn't do that? It wasn't hard. -- L'sen, you could've just given him a shove."
"He has morals, vixen." Rathin laughingly replies as he paddles to stay afloat. "A lesser man would've given up." He's pointedly looking at Maja as he says that, too, bobbing in the water. L'sen, too, is eyed with some amusement. "You must be pretty cold-blooded if -this- is not bad."
"He came," L'sen notes, pointing off toward the rest of the bowl, where Morowen headed. "Right before me. Didn't have to throw him or nothing. I coulda took 'im, though." Nodding sagely, he snags Neiveth's foreleg as the blue starts past, stopping him. "Oooh, no. You'd like, drown us all or something if you tried that," he tells the blue, eyes widening. Neiveth, sulkily, stills, though from the way he keeps looking upward, he's not given up on the idea forever. L'sen, though, isn't worried; he just shrugs to Rathin. "I guess so? I dunno, maybe I'm just used to it. I'm from here--okay, well. The Hold, actually--High Reaches Hold, I mean--but. It ain't /warm/, exactly, but it's not nothing I can't handle, neither."
"Didn't I tell you to quit calling me vixen?" Maja avoids the subject of her morals. She's doing fairly well keeping herself afloat, and her head only bobs up and down every few seonds. "I have no trouble with the water, either. It must be sensitive skin on your part, Rathin." Neiveth is given a brief visual inspection. "What's he want to do, L'sen?"
"You certainly did, vixen," Rathin cheerfully agrees with Maja. Ripples in the water all around him are indication enough that he's shivering in the water. "Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm off to be nursed back to health." He swims for the shore, with the stroke of someone who doesn't swim regularly but can get by when they do.
Rathin has left.
At the lake shore, Rathin wades out of the lake, dripping.
At the lake shore, Rathin wanders away from the lake shore, back to the main bowl.
Pulling himself half out of the water to perch on Neiveth's leg, L'sen makes a vain effort to squeeze the water out of his sodden shirt. "Maybe we shouldn't've done this fully dressed, though," he notes, a little late. But, with a shrug, he leans back against the blue's shoulder. "Jump off the cliff," he answers Maja simple, grinning at her. "Maybe later, though, when there's not people around to get landed on. Even I know that's not such a good idea." He turns that confused look on Rathin then, calling after him. "How come you call--oh, well. How come he calls you 'vixen'?" he directs the question to Maja instead.
Maja swims over to Neiveth as well, though paddles just below L'sen by the blue's leg. "My clothes need washed anyway," she remarks, turning around to watch Rathin swim off before glancing back up to L'sen. "I'd think that he could just dive into the water from the air. -- Vixen? Because he likes to irritate me."
L'sen turns to brushing the water from his hair, roughing a hand through the blonde mess to get rid of that awful plastered-down look. "I don't think it's the same. I dunno. He just likes trying new stuff like that," he tries to explain, shrugging again. He scoots over, offering Maja a hand. "You wanna sit up here, too? Get out of the water, sort of?" And then: "Oh. That's... kind of weird, I guess. Does he do that to everybody, or just you? He seemed nice to me, but then, I don't really... know, I guess."
Maja very reluctantly grabs L'sen's hand and pulls herself out of the water, water flowing off her as it runs down Neiveth's leg. "Not the same? I think it'd be more thrilling." Obviously not understanding the mind of the dragon, Maja shrugs and squeezes out her shirt. "Thanks for helping me up," she allows. "No-- he doesn't do that to everybody. But the first time I met him I insulted him, so he's probably bitter." There's humor in her voice, and she's being a little sarcastic.
L'sen shrugs, grinning over at Maja as she settles alongside him. Neiveth is content now to support both of them, letting the pair talk without much interruption from him. "I didn't say it was /better/," he points out. "Just different. Something he hasn't done before. And hey, no problem. So it's a first-impression sort of thing? Those... Yeah. You apologize?" wonders the bluerider. "Maybe that'd, I dunno, cheer him up or something. People don't usually like getting insulted, 'specially by people they don't even know yet."
"I think he -does- like it," Maja insists, wringing out her pants. "I don't need to apologize," she says, as though she would never have thought about it. "He's quite cheerful enough." She takes a deep, contemplating breath. "He reminds me of Te'an."
L'sen peers between Maja and the bowl, brows arching. "You think so?" he wonders. "I don't see it, myself. I mean, Te'an's... Te'an. There ain't nobody like him." A shrug. "Can't see myself sharing a blanket or anything else with that guy, although, I dunno. I don't really know him, like I said."
"Perhaps it's the rivalry I have -- or, had-- with Te'an, and have with Rathin. It wouldn't surprise me if Rathin stole blankets from everyone, though unfortunately it's a little warm for that." Maja attempts to pull the tie out of her hair, though it tangles up in the wetness. "Rathin likes to bait people into doing things, and Te'an did that too."
L'sen grins at that. "Well, I don't think Te'an really /meant/ to," he defends his friend. "He's just kind of... that way. Y'all two didn't never really get along, did you? Not that, well. I can get along with anybody, and I couldn't always back then. He's... touchy sometimes." A shrug. Then, reluctantly, he concedes, "It is kind of cold in here. I'm thinking maybe we should go get something to eat? And some klah, you know? ... And dry clothes, yeah."
Maja doesn't say much about her relationship with Te'an, simply bristling up at the mention of the two of them never getting along. "I suppose I can go back," she replies, though without as much positive emotion as she had been showing earlier. "I'll get some klah. Lead the way, then."
L'sen doesn't seem to notice Maja's reaction, too busy sliding back off Neiveth and setting out for the shore. "C'mon, then," he calls back to Maja with a grin. "I'm /starving/." Always.