[Log] Not Even a /Little/ Intimidating?

[brazenbronzer]

Who: Amilin, Bayan, L'sen, R'hin
When: Day 26, Month 7, Turn 7
Where: Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
What: R'hin and Bayan get off on the wrong foot.

Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
     Standing on the eastern side of the bowl, you realize why this is one of the most striking Weyrs on Pern. Arrayed around the north rim of the bowl are the Seven Spindles: high crownlike points formed of old volcano flows which were eroded to sharp spikes. The bowl itself is a rough ovoid shape, with a large lake taking up a good portion of the southeastern part. The bowl seems to slant down to the lake shore, and the soil becomes a little looser in that direction. From the east, the slight aroma of herdbeast and wherry hide rises from the feeding grounds. The northeast section of the bowl is full of activity: training of dragons both young and old goes on in a large clearing near the entrance to the weyrling barracks and dragon infirmary. Several small boulders dot the area to the north, forming a winding path to the ledges leading into the weyrleaders' quarters.
     The early evening crystal clear as the sun sets over the western rim of the bowl. It is completely still, no winds blow and the summer air temperature feels comfortable.

Contents:
Neiveth

Obvious exits:
Weyrleader Ledges Western Bowl Floor Dragon Infirmary Weyrling Barracks Weyrling Training Room Feeding Grounds Lake Shore

R'hin strides in from the weyrling barracks.
R'hin has arrived.

Leiventh tromps in from the weyrling barracks.
Leiventh has arrived.

R'hin
     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. Black, blue and bronze colors denote his Weyr as the High Reaches, and his dragon as a bronze. The three threads are looped simply to indicate his position as a weyrling.

Leiventh
     Thin and angular, the contours of this bronze are marked distinctively by the outjuts of sharp bones and the pull of ruddy hide over untried and soft muscles. Cinnamon and ginger darken in the shadows caused by his distinctive physical structure into burnt molasses, coiling up along haunches in a struggle with his predominately softer shade towards wing spars that stretch out wide from his shoulders. A sheath of crimson streaked opulence, much like the finery of a lord, hangs like a curtain of an intricately woven fabric from the gilt-frame of his spars to extend the illusion of a shroud of beauty over his general long-limbed gracelessness. The crooked hump along his snout provides the superciliously curve from over which lazy-lidded eyes seem to view the world around him with the unsubtle arrogance of privilege of birth that sets the arch of his neck high and proud, while leisure and lackadaisical near-slumber gathers around his limbs and non-expressive tail, creating a dichotomy of personality within even the stillness of his lengthy frame.
     Leiventh is approximately 25 meters in length with a wingspan of 41 meters.

It's a beautiful summer evening in the High Reaches, lazy and warm; L'sen and Neiveth alike enjoy it. The blue dragon is sprawled out on the ground, legs all tangled and wings stretched out to either side to soak up those last sunrays. L'sen leans up against his neck, eyes half-closed as he periodically nods off and jerks back awake.

R'hin, looking rather exhausted - the norm for him these days - straggles out of the weyrling barracks, blinking and squinting his eyes against the lingering sunshine. Leiventh has a bit more of an advantage than him in that regard; the hook-nosed bronze simply closes a set of eyelids against the light, still able to discern shapes enough to follow in R'hin's wake. "Follow the leader?" the weyrling says with considerable amusement, glancing over his shoulder. "Does that mean you're going to help with my chores?" Judging by the dismissive flip of wings on the part of the dragon, the answer's negative. "Didn't think so. You know, you really ought to be constructive and do some exercises... hey! That's -not- my job. Not my only job, anyway," he concedes, walking towards the pile of firestone stacked near the bowl's wall. His eyes pass over the dozing bluerider, though he pointedly doesn't greet him, instead offering a jaunty salute during a period of somnolence.

Bayan heads away from the lake shore, back to the main bowl.
Bayan has arrived.

Bayan
     Bayan is a tall young man with smooth, dark skin. His eyes shine hazel and his black curls are rakishly wild, flowing about like the waves of the sea. His eyes seem to smile at you...or mock you, depending on intent. As for his gentle lips, they curve into an endless smirk, as though he's about to get into some kind of trouble. He appears calm, but has a business-like air about him, which usually means there's more to him than meets the eye. He is 20 Turns old.

The tip of Neiveth's tail lashes idly, one set of eyelids flicking open at the sound of a voice nearby. When he raises his head abruptly, his lazy manner abandoned just as quickly, L'sen tumples half-over with a surprised 'ack!' "Faranth, Neiveth! Don't move around when I'm leanin' up again you!" he says, though grinning as he straightens and scoots over to reassume a position leaning against the sprawled blue. This time, however, he doesn't start to doze, instead peering curiously as well to R'hin and Leiventh. "Hiya," he greets them cheerfully, backed up with a trumpety rumble from Neiveth.

Leiventh, taking a leaf out of the older dragon's book, finds a patch of sunshine to luxuriate in, spreading wings so that the undertones of crimson that drape his wings are reflected and highlighted in a grand, and deliberate posture. "Show off," R'hin snorts, adding, "Slacker." Undaunted by the words, the bronze remains 'posed', soaking up the warmth. With an abrupt snicker at some comment, the weyrling concedes, "All right. So I've taught you bad habits. Doesn't mean you have to show me up." Deliberately, R'hin sheds his shirt, eyeing Leiventh sidelong, amused. Finally, he turns, casting a critical eye over the pile of unbroken firestone by the bowl's wall, reaching for the pick left leaning against the wall. Leiventh's greeting of Neiveth is a brassy rumble, while R'hin's offer to his counterpart is a simple, "Sir," accompanied by a bemused sort of glance at the tumble.

Bayan strides in, looking about the bowl with an easy-going grin. Seeing the dragonriders, he walks towards them, calling, "Excuse me sirs! I was wondering where I could find-" and stops when he looks at L'sen. His face brightening, he gives the bluerider a nod in greeting, "L'sen! Didn't think to find you so soon!" He nods to the weyrling as well.

Now this is a game Neiveth can enjoy. He watches Leiventh with blatant interest, then (dislodging his unfortunate rider again), pulls his legs back under him and lifts his wings slightly, adopting his own grand pose for the younger, if not far smaller, dragon. L'sen, however, only rolls his eyes and grins over at R'hin, brows arching. "Did you just call me 'sir'?" he asks, surprised. "Like, seriously? Because nobody's ever called me that before. You don't /have/ to, you know--you could just call me--Bayan!" Okay, maybe not. L'sen's suitably distracted by the other man's approach, waving enthusiastically. "You're back already. Heh. Me 'n' Neiveth, we're always around, so, yeah. Not /too/ hard to find. How was Igen?"

Hm. A challenge, eh? Leiventh eyes Neiveth with interest, and ups the ante by disdainfully tilting his head down slightly, almost like he's peering over a pair of imaginary glasses. R'hin, apparently pleased that Leiventh's got something to occupy him, nudges a few of the firestones with his boot, before glancing over his shoulder at L'sen. "I do, and you can protest until the Red Star plunges into Pern, but I still have to do it. I'm afraid I tend to buck the system over slightly larger issues than what you'd prefer to be addressed by." Pause, then deliberate, "-Sir-." He nods faintly towards Bayan, but seems content to let the two talk, swinging his pick at his selected piece of stone.

Dragon> Neiveth senses that Leiventh's tones are mottled with amusement, his mindvoice deep and brassy to match his physical voice. << I see your call, and raise you. >> Apparently someone's been in his rider's head.

Bayan grins at L'sen, "Yeah, got back this morning. They're having some graduating party in Igen right now, since Aya and Delu got tapped. Igen wasn't bad....caused some drama ofcourse, but I was able to see the girls' weyrs and they weren't bad." He looks L'sen over innocently, "How you been, and Neiveth?" He bows to the blue. To R'hin, he nods again, "Name's Bayan, from Igen. Well met."

"Well, I wasn't going to, like, make you stop or anything, either," notes L'sen easily, beaming over at R'hin. "I mean, if you don't wanna, I won't say anything--it's just a little weird, because I'm not an important person or nothing, you know?" He shrugs, and beside him Neiveth releases a mild, unchallenging croon toward the bronze, though he does shift his posture again, sliding into something that he, at least, thinks is regal. Wings hunched and neck arched just so, he regards Leivanth, trying ineffectually to match that disdainful look. L'sen, meanwhile, glances over to Bayan again, nodding. "Drama? That's not good, you know? Sorry. But they're finally graduated? That's great. I'll have to go back 'n' see, or maybe just get Neiveth to pass on congrats or something, you know?"

Neiveth> Leiventh senses that Neiveth, excited, declares, << What, you mean, like, a competition? I bet we'd be even /better/ if we worked together. You're almost as big as me, and we're close enough in color-->> or not <<--that we could make a nice, I don't know, matched set or something. Now if only you could fly... >>

A series of loud cracks herald R'hin's progress with the stone; he swings the pick with the expertise of a weyrling who's had this chore all too often of late. Pausing briefly to move over and find a new stone to work on, he answers Bayan without looking over, "I remember you from the hatching feast," he acknowledges, without bothering to offer his own introduction. A slight grin appears at L'sen's words, the weyrling answering, "None of us are particularly important. It's just about making us conform." Leiventh doesn't seem -too- impressed by Neiveth's next offering, and counters by rising onto his haunches and sweeping his wings, stirring dust in the bowl, much to R'hin's dismay. Coughing, the weyrling gives Leiventh a -look-, which is blithely ignored... especially since the movement is enough to unbalance the hook-nosed bronze, a very unflattering and hasty shift of wings sparing him adding injury to insult.

Dragon> Neiveth senses that Leiventh seems to consider the proposition for a very long time, mulling the thoughts over in his head. << You're blue, >> he eventually observes, as if he's only just worked this out, and this is the only foil in an otherwise flawless plan. << Blue is similar to bronze in color? >>

Bayan raises an eyebrow and smirks at R'hin, "Indeed." he drawls out before saying to L'sen "Not crazy drama. Just something that made me leave a day earlier." A shrug. "Yes, they graduated now. You should stop by and see them. They're...uh, doing fine, by the way, from the issues before....?" he gives him a look since they weren't alone. "Congrats should be in order. They send their greetings, ofcourse. Aya's fond of you, and I imagine her weyrmate is too."

L'sen's brows quirk upward. "Conform? What d'you mean? It's a weyrlinghood thing, I guess--you know, be all properly respectful and stuff. Me, though, I forgot sometimes, but I wasn't /trying/ to be rude so people usually didn't say nothing to me about it." A shrug. "He--" a gesture to Leiventh "--reminds me of Neiveth, when he was little. /Lots/ littler, considering how big he is already. They grow up real fast, don't they? Issues before?" L'sen's attention span is woefully brief and his discretion nonexistant as he swivels quickly to peer at Bayan. Then: "Oooh, you mean the flight? I'm glad. S'good to know that, I dunno, Ayana won't be coming after me over Delu or anything, you know?"

Neiveth> Leiventh senses that Neiveth pulls up short, surprise leaking from his thoughts. Finally, he decides, << Uh... Okay, maybe not /similar. But they're complementary, so we'll still look really good together! >> His enthusiasm isn't held down for long.

R'hin sighs, the gesture long-suffering, at L'sen's words. "Nevermind. It would probably take too long to explain in simplified terms." Two more swings are taken at the stone, cracking a particularly large one into slightly more manageable pieces. He pauses, looking faintly bemused at L'sen's observation of the dragons. "Neiveth is blue." It's hard to tell if the repetition of his dragon's observation is unconscious or not. Given that he uses the dragon's name, it would seem deliberate. "And please," he adds dryly, flicking a glance in Bayan's direction as he spreads his arms wide in a grand, welcoming - and mocking - gesture, "Don't hold back all your secrets simply for my presence. Oversharing, that's the name of the game at High Reaches." Leiventh, recovering his balance, hunkers down, though his head's still turned in Neiveth's direction, as if keeping an eye on his fellow dragon.

Dragon> Neiveth senses that Leiventh considers that, too, for a time. Seems to be his normal way of speaking - or thinking, in this case. << We would, >> he concedes, << When I fly, we shall fly all over the Weyr, and look good together. >>

Bayan watches R'hin absently, watching him work with mild interest as he answers L'sen in amusement "No issues before. I, uh, kinda went after a girl they're both interested in." He doesn't say anymore on it. Instead, he adds "Aya wouldn't do that. She knows it was just a flight. Besides, their problems were beyond that." He gives R'hin an amused glance at his words, "Oh, no holding back here! Hmm...you remind me of someone..." and he scratches at his chin as he sizes the weyrling up, but doesn't say anything more.

L'sen knits his brows a moment, glancing between Neiveth and Leiventh quickly. "Well, yeah," he agrees, as though R'hin were the slow one. "I didn't say they really /looked/ alike, they just... act alike, kind of? I dunno. Neiveth's always pulling stunts like that, you know what I mean?" Indeed, Neiveth is performing now: he sweeps his wings about around himself and lowers his head gracefully, approximating a bow to his 'partner' Leiventh. The brassy trumpet he adds to the manuever is less elegant. L'sen continues blithely, "Oh, really? Who was that? Not that I probably know her--I don't know many people down in Igen, except Delu and Ayana and you, sometimes, and Te'an, of course--except if they're graduating, he'll be coming home. I forgot about that." He grins.

Neiveth> Leiventh senses that Neiveth agrees grandly, << It's a deal! >> For now, though, he settles for offering a fictional image of the pair of them looping through the sky in an elaborate series of stunts (most of them ill-suited to a grown bronze), the colors brighter than reality.

"Of course, it's about a girl. I should've guessed," R'hin says, eyes rolling upwards. "I'm fairly sure I've heard this one before... oh, yes. It's one of those Harper's tales. Boy meets girl, good boy falls for girl, bad boy falls for girl, girl chooses the bad boy, the good boy is heartbroken, but then girl realises she really wanted the good boy all along, and they have a dramatic meeting in the rain somewhere, kiss, and live happily ever after?" He doesn't bother to respond to L'sen's words, instead taking another swing at the firestone. Leiventh, however, seems intrigued, though he's perfectly eerily still as he watches Neiveth. However, the brassy trumpet that's offered is enough to stir him to movement, rising on his haunches and adding his own, deep voice to the sound, looking pleased with himself.

Dragon> Neiveth senses that Leiventh offers wordless delight, particularly at the image that he takes as reality. One particular loop - that will be impossible for him - takes his attention, and he rolls the image over in his head, adding their riders to it. Even though they're not strapped in, they seem to have no trouble holding on. Although fictional-R'hin is looking a little pale at the daring stunt, much to Leiventh's amusement.

Bayan chuckles out loud at R'hin's words, "Oh? You sure that's what happened? Nothing's never that simple, I can say. It may have been about a girl, and I maybe be a bad boy, I guess, but I can surely tell you there's no /good boy/ in my story! It's more complicated than that." He winks at the weyrling and turns to L'sen, "You wouldn't know her, L'sen. And I'm sure Te'an will be back by here. Most of the weyrlings have been tapped by now. Really, it wasn't that much about a girl. More likely...business."

Blatantly confused, L'sen regards R'hin. "Uh... I don't think I know that one," he notes dubiously. And, to Bayan, he remarks, a little whinily, "Business. Everything's always business with you." Any bad humor, however, is short-lived, as he glances back to R'hin. "Did that happen to you or something?" he wonders curiously.

Neiveth> Leiventh senses that Neiveth, with great amusement and a bright laugh, takes that image and decides, << This is going to be great! >>

"No, you're the good boy. Trust me. You just -think- you're the bad boy, because that gives you more of a shot at keeping her interested. It's called false hope. Also known as being slow-witted." R'hin's not looking at Bayan as he speaks, his voice pitched to carry in between swings of his pick. L'sen's words, however, give him pause, chuckling low in response. "No. It's fictional, it's meant to inspire us and give us hope, blah, blah. It's the basis for every love story the Harpers tell. Try it next time one of them tells you a tale. You can get it down to an expertise if you can pick the three major figures within the first couple of minutes of the tale."

Bayan pauses at R'hin, then grins, "My dear boy, please don't compliment me in such a way! I might take it as a pass!" He grin wider then, "As for the slow-witted-part, if that was the case, I'd be dead by now. As I can see, I'm still here." Very cryptic, but he winks at L'sen, adding, "Which, speaking of, it /is/ always business with me. If I don't have that, what do I have left? It's my life, and no girl's worth it. Aya warned her against me anyway. She knows I wouldn't stay around." He looks back at R'hin with interest, "You're awefully cheeky. That's definitely of interest to me."

L'sen watches R'hin, curiousity unassuaged. "Really? I've never tried. Never noticed, actually. You're kind of... cynical," he decides. "Is that the word? Anyway, it kind of ruins a good story, I think, you do that, you know what I mean?" Pause. To Bayan: "He's a bronzerider, I wouldn't try. They're no fun," he declares, with a teasing grin for R'hin. "Like X'dyr 'n' C'len, from my clutch? Yeah. They're just... you know." A grin, a shrug.

Dryly, R'hin observes, "You can take it however you'd like." With another swing at the stone, he adds, "As for death, well, nature isn't all that kind as to help out in that area. There's always a few that slip through the cracks here and there." Judging by his tone, he's being perfectly serious. Bayan's final comment, at least, causes R'hin to pause, and eye the other man for a moment. "You know, if you hint any more strongly about your dark, bad past, I may just have to set Maja on you, and trust me, that's -not- a pleasant experience." He darts a sharp look at L'sen, though answers evenly enough, "Cynical, me? I thought I was the optimist? Or have you already taken up that job, sir?"

Bayan looks to L'sen in amusement, "Oh? Bronzeriders are no fun? I'll keep that in mind..." and he regards R'hin and his words closely. "I will take it however I like it, as you phrased." A pause. "Who's Maja, and why would she equate to me? She can't change me," and he shrugs, "And there's alot about me you don't know," and he delivers this with no amusement. He smirks back at L'sen, "Ah, I know who he reminds me of now. My brother. Had the same outlook and everything."

"Well, they're fun," L'sen corrects himself, "but they're not /fun/." He grins, shrugs, glances around again at R'hin. "Uh... I think so? I'm pretty optimistic, I guess, you know? Maja, hey--how is she? I haven't seen her since she impressed, either. She's nice, though, so... I don't get it?"

"Maja's a guard." R'hin doesn't bother adding the 'former' to that statement, since either way it's a true enough statement. "Very interested in shady pasts. I'll give her the heads up on you if you like, maybe it'll keep her occupied for a while. She's... Maja." A quick grin follows, that's closer to a bearing of teeth than an actual grin. "Nice? Hah! She once--" he breaks off, shaking his head. "Nevermind. Optimist, I forgot." On the heels of Bayan's observation of him, R'hin adds, "And just like a brother, I shall feel free to mock you whenever you deserve it. I imagine I shall be quite busy. I don't know how I'm going to fit it all into my--" he pauses to take another whack at the stone, "--busy schedule."

Bayan leans back at R'hin's words, "So, Maja's a guard? Heh, what can she find on me? She can look in if she likes, but I can bet you marks that she won't find anything," and he says this with a deadly calm as he looks straight at him. "She can try, and I'll always appreciate a challenge," and flashes a grin much like R'hin's, "Besides, who says I'm doing anything wrong?" A shrug and he looks at L'sen, "I'm not interested in bronzeriders, so that's fine." At R'hin's last comment, he turns back, "You don't know my brother then. There's never any time to mock. I'm pretty sure you'll be too busy anyhow." A wink his way and a smirk.

L'sen grins. "She's Maja," he agrees, nodding. "She's always been nice to me, though. I mean, I don't know her /that/ well, but. We were candidates together--too bad she didn't impress with my class, but then, I guess it all works out in the end, you know? Vesereth, he suits her, I think. What'd she do to you?" And, glancing sideways at Bayan, he shakes his head. "Nah, no way. Maja could take you," he notes confidently. "She's, like, a /man/." To judge by the awe in his voice, this is a compliment. "She's huge--bigger than me, I think! Or at least as big, you know what I mean?"

"I don't bet," R'hin says, almost coldly, taking another swing with the pick, a few of the chunks rolling away from the large pile with the strength of the blow. "But if I did, I'd put my marks on Maja. Just don't ever tell her that, she really doesn't need the encouragement." A shift of shoulders is R'hin's answer to Bayan as he leans briefly on the pick, resting. "No one said you're doing anything wrong. You strongly implied it, that's all. Like I said, it's open season on oversharing here. And don't worry, I'll find the time. One should always help out 'family', after all." His lips twist wryly at L'sen's words, amused. "Just don't call her that to her face. I did that, once. She's got an impressive right hook."

Bayan chuckles deeply, "Nothing's wrong with betting," he drawls slowly, "Either way, whether I'm doing something wrong or not, no one will /ever/ know." He nods firmly on that, glancing at L'sen, "L'sen's been trying to get me to talk for a long while now. I'm good at keeping my mouth shut." Back to R'hin, "As for the implication, take it as you see fit." He smirks, "Maybe I'll appreciate the time then. I don't turn down help when offered." He nods and looks around, as if Maja would suddenly appear, "As to the guard, good to know. I'll keep her in the back of my head. Just in case."

"Seriously?" queries L'sen, eyes widening innocently. "But that's not /bad/. I mean, it's kind of cool, you know? I bet she could beat me up, too, though, so maybe I better not. 'M not much of a fighter, you know? I just look kinda... imposing, more than anything." He shrugs, grinning--he might be big, but 'imposing' is probably not a word often used for the goofy, good-natured bluerider.

"So confident, it must be arrogance! Leiventh, whatever am I to do! I'm no longer the most proud person in the 'Reaches!" R'hin turns his beseeching look on Leiventh, who - aware of the bronze weyrling's lack of seriousness - offers a sleepy yawn. With a snort, he adds to Bayan, "You're not -that- good at keeping your mouth shut. You seem to be talking an awful lot right now, in fact. Remind me never to tell you any life-altering secrets." Wiping briefly at his forehead, he resumes his erratic striking of the firestone. "Sir," he says, without turning, "You're about the least intimidating person I've ever met. And I've met canines, tiny baby, cute ones."

Dragon> Neiveth senses that Leiventh seems to be trying to put your rider's face on the body of a baby canine, bemused at the thought.

Bayan pauses at R'hin, more amused than anything, "I'm always confident." he simply rises to the challenge, "And I /may/ talk alot, dear bronzerider, but do you know anything more than I what I've said? Or what I /do/? No, you don't. Just having a friendly chat, after all," and he motions to include L'sen, "Since I just got back in town. Nothing wrong with that, is there?" He snorts and turns to L'sen, "So, I miss anything of importance while I was gone?"

L'sen wrinkles his nose, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his hair. "Not even a /little/ intimidating?" he asks hopefully. "Because I can--I can--okay, now that's just mean!" The words, though, are undermined by a laugh as he peers to the two dragons. Neiveth rumble-snorts in return, and L'sen rolls his head. "Ha ha." Then: "Important? Nah, not really. I mean, there's nothing goin' on anymore, I don't think. I mean, I guess things are busy with weyrlings and stuff--right, R'hin?--but not so much for me. Same old, same old." Shrug.

R'hin bends to grab a palm sized firestone that's gone flying, tossing it back onto the top of the pile, pausing briefly to tap at his lip thoughtfully. "Hm. I remember some saying, what was it...? Pride goes before a... something. Anyway, I'm sure it's not important, and in no way applies to -you-, who are oh so subtle of speech and quick of wit." With a quick look, "I know nothing," R'hin agrees, simply, tone deliberately neutral. "I'm a weyrling - nobody of importance." L'sen's comment goes unanswered, the weyrling seeming to think that Leiventh's contribution is enough of an answer.

Bayan chuckles a bit, glancing at R'hin and shaking his head, "And you're implying what? That you're better than me?" He grins, those there's no amusement in his eyes, "You're right, you know nothing about me. As to everything else? Who am I to judge?" He glances at L'sen, "Are all bronzeriders like this? If so, remind me to try to steer clear." He nods, "Must be busy with the weyrlings and all. I wouldn't know. According to this one, I'm just slow of wit and not subtle of speech! Ofcourse, he forgot to add that I'm a holder." He smiles at L'sen, "But it's really good to see you, though. Igen was pretty boring. Too hot for my tastes, too. Don't know how I survived living at Igen Hold as long as I did."

"A fall!" L'sen interjects helpfully. "Pride goes before a fall!" And he beams cheerfully at R'hin and Bayan alike. He adds, "Oh, yeah, bet it is. I've never been in the summer, you know? I bet it's worse--winter 'n' spring was bad enough, ew. You planning on staying more up in these parts for a while this time?"

"Take my implication as you see fit," R'hin deliberately echoes Bayan's exact intonation of earlier with only a slight variation of the words. He takes another few swings at one of the larger stones, before bending to shift some of the smaller ones to one side, in preparation for sacking. L'sen is given a grin, as the bronze weyrling intones, "The bluerider wins a prize!"

Bayan pauses to regard R'hin in mild surprise, then narrows his eyes a tad, "You better hope I don't take the implication the wrong way then," is all he says on the matter. To L'sen, he grins, "Summer's there just aren't good. I try to avoid Igen during those times, but with my parents being the way they are," and he sighs. "I do plan on sticking around here for a spell. Kam gotta take care of some things here. I hope he goes on without me, but we'll see. I don't like disappointing Kam."

"You're not serious," observes L'sen wisely to R'hin. And to Bayan, he agrees, "Well, you can always catch up later, I guess. Get somebody to take you on ahead--Neiveth and I could, I bet, if you know which way he's heading. S'not hard or anything, so."

"Come on, threats are so last Turn. I got my first one almost as soon as I arrived in High Reaches Weyr." R'hin states, dismissively. "Yours would make it five to date, I believe." He straightens slowly, grinning at L'sen, before tossing one of the smaller firestone rocks in his direction. "Deadly serious - catch! That's your prize, freshly broken firestone. It'll be worth something when I'm dead - which ought to be soon, right, Bayan?" He tosses a facetious grin in the other man's direction.

Bayan nods slowly in R'hin's direction, "Threat, advice...." and he shrugs just as dismissively. "If you've had five threats in the last turn, I'd be careful were I you. Some just might make due on it if you anger them enough...and I imagine you wouldn't want that, being the sudden position you're in?" He raises an eyebrow, "As for me, I don't know you, so I'm willing to forget the insults you paid me this day....I'm in a good mood. I'm not always in a good mood, however." He keeps his expression neutral. He grins at L'sen and nods, "That'd be nice, in fact. I hope it doesn't come to that. Kam likes the High Reaches as much as me, so, maybe I can convince him to stay longer. He'll never step foot in a Weyr, but, I'm sure we could live somewhere around here." He shrugs and just pay R'hin's question on death a silent look.

Instinctively, L'sen reaches up to grab the firestone, brows arching. "Aw, thanks," he notes. "It means a lot to me. Think I should save it, or let Neiveth crunch it up? He breathes a mean flame, you know? Don't mind him, he's just... like that," he tells Bayan, waving a hand absently to indicate the weyrling.

R'hin resumes piling the smaller rocks off to one side, although it's more haphazard than that - he's mostly tossing them, some with enough force to go rolling right off the pile. "If I were you," he offers to Bayan, "I wouldn't forget the insults. I'd just take that as license to reuse them again next time we meet, and I really hate to be so boring as to be repetitive. And if it's my -position- as you put it that's the only thing staying your hand, you forget - I'm the lowest of the low here." A brief, inscrutable glance, then back to work. "Up to you," he responds to L'sen. "It's your prize to do with what you wish. I'd recommend framing it, but that's just my personal preference."

Bayan raises an eyebrow to L'sen, "He's just...like that?" he echoes, then shakes his head to look at the bronzerider, "Then you're welcome to reuse them...with different results, ofcourse." He shrugs at the position comment, "Even weyrlings are looked upon in awe in Holds. No difference." To L'sen, he smirks, "If all the weyrlings are like this, I'll steer clear of them as well."

"Framing, huh." L'sen ponders that a moment, tossing the rock idly in the air. "I dunno, I don't think I have anywhere to hang it. But I'll check and see, anyway." Pause. "You aren't /that/ low. Are you? I mean, I didn't feel like that when /I/ was a weyrling. I mean, okay, you're not the Weyrleader or anything, but still. It's not bad or anything. And yeah, from what I figure out, he must be like this all the time. Right?" He peers between the pair for confirmation.

"I wouldn't dream of having it any other way," is R'hin's quick retort to Bayan. After giving his handiwork a bit of a critical look, he retrieves the pick. He's cleared enough space to get to some of the larger chunks of firestone again, and resumes swinging, the cracks a loud counterpoint to his next comment, "Yup, this is me, in all my glory." There's a slight twitch of lips, but otherwise no indication that he's being anything but serious. L'sen is given a dubious look, "Have you a dragon's memory, sir? That seems to be an oddly common affliction around here."

Dragon> Neiveth senses that Leiventh complains, quietly, << I don't have that bad a memory. I remember R'hin was dreaming about a pink runner when he woke up this morning. He seemed a little disturbed by it. >>

Bayan frowns at R'hin, "Hey, why are you always dumping on L'sen, huh? He didn't do anything to you!" He pauses to calm his sudden anger, "Yes, he must be," to L'sen's question, keeping his eyes on the weyrling. He turns a smile to te bluerider however, "I didn't forget your offer to be tour guide, by the way." He says it non-chalantly and with a shrug. "Aya wants to know if yours is better than hers. She wants to come out here and visit sometime, too."

Uncertainly, L'sen glances to R'hin. "Um, I don't think so?" he notes, glancing from R'hin to Leiventh to Neiveth and back to the bronze weyrling. "It just... didn't seem so bad to me, really. I mean, I didn't really get in trouble much, so... I dunno. Maybe S'din's changed? I mean, it /has/ been, like, three turns, you kn--ow." The end of the word falls a little flat, as he turns sharply to peer at Bayan. "You don't have to stand up for me, you know? He doesn't /mean/ anything, do you, R'hin? Besides, he's lots nicer than Satiet, and she's one of my best friends." A shrug. "Ayana 'n' Delu should come by 'n' see it, too. I don't mind, you know what I mean?"

R'hin bristles a little in protest. "I'm not -always- dumping on L'sen. I try to spread it around a little, but Maja's not here, nor is Satiet, or Bristia, M'wen..." he trails off eventually, as if he's more interested in the monotony of firestone breaking than the minutia of Bayan's travel itinerary. "I say many things, but I don't mean all of them. Or most of them, come to think of it," he quickly agrees with L'sen. "As for S'din-- I don't know, did he mock you as part of turning you into a peon of the establishment? Maybe it's just preferential treatment," he muses aloud.

Amilin strides in from the weyrling training room.
Amilin has arrived.

Amilin
     You see a slender woman, whom appears to be somewhere in her thirties. Regular hours spent outside have done little to darken a fair complexion to tan, thus leaving it to be offset by the wavy, light brown hair, placed in a intricate braid; the length of which falls to the small of her back. A few stray tendrils escape from near her temples to delicately framing her face. If you catch her gaze you'd likely note her greenish-gray eyes, and though nothing else about her features is remarkable she would be considered pretty by some.
     She is wearing a soft, warm looking, cable knit sweater dyed a light mauve. Over this she wears a medium brown wherhide jacket which ends just below her hips. The trim has been edged in a deep green with the fastenings being blue and black. Her wherhide pants are tailored to fit a bit loosely and lay over the tops of her ankle high brown boots. On her shoulder is a High Reaches Weyr AWLM knot with a cord of green woven in and a Dragonhealer Capable's patch.

Bayan looks at them both in pause, then shakes his head, "I've met Satiet, at the hatching, and she seemed nice to me," he decides to say instead, adding to L'sen, "I'll be sure the let the girls know." There's clearly more he wants to say, but for the moment he shuts it.

That question L'sen ponders a moment. "Hmm. Not really, that I can think of? Ooh, but that smith guy did. I forget his name, but the one that taught us to flame? He called me stupid. In fact, I think he was the one that wanted to know if I /stole/--me, steal!--if I /stole/ my little weyrling wingleader pin and everything!" Pause. "Satiet, she likes to /act/ mean, but she's really nice on the inside. I think."

R'hin can't help it; he lets out a guffaw at Bayan's statement, forced to lean on his pick briefly in order to catch his breath. "Oh, that's a good one! She really did a number on you. I'd be more careful, oh-he-of-many-dark-secrets," the weyrling grins. L'sen, too, is given a definitely bemused sort of look at his comment.

Bayan stares at R'hin, "Well, I didn't really talk to her much that night either. My sister did, and she was nice to my sister, so that's enough for me." To L'sen, he nods, "I believe you. I can't say a bad thing about her until I know her for sure." He stares at R'hin's guffaw, "What's so bad about her? Is she anything like you?" At the title, Bayan just smirks.

"I don't recall any Smith's teaching you to flame L'san. Was I mysteriously absent," Ami teases, "Or did Beladin, S'din and myself change professions?" The greenrider steps into the conversation she was about to pass by, unable to resist intruding on it, it seems.

"I wouldn't want to spoil it for you," R'hin says, "You really have to experience the lady of the spires in all her glory for yourself." Still grinning as if there'd been some joke spoken, the weyrling takes another swing at the firestone, sending a few smaller chunks flying. He hears Amilin's voice before he sees her, his most innocent grin on display as he straightens, shifting the pick to his left hand in order to snap out a salute. "Ma'am."

L'sen shrugs. "She's always been, well, nice to me, I think. Like, she finally danced with me after the hatching--" even if it did take three turns "--or the time she walked me back to the barracks and said I'd been sick after Te'an got--Amilin, hi!" He breaks off that story awfully quickly, his smile deliberately brighter than usual. "Beladin, that was the guy! Was he really not a smith?"

Bayan smiles and nods a greeting to the greenrider before regarding R'hin, "Perhaps I will meet her, if I stick around long enough. If she's as mean as you say, a passing greeting will just do." He listens to the exchange between L'sen and Ami with amusement.

"Beladin's a Miner, actually. Which would be why he knew so much about the stone, the conditions it's found in, all those little extra details he thought you might like to know." As if the lesson had been an elective. Ami gives L'sen a grin then, "Never mind. R'hin's the one that gets to try and remember all those little pesky details next." That said, she returns the weyrling's salute, then nods his way before slipping her hands in her pockets. "And who would it be that's so mean?"

"She probably has a weakness for puppies," R'hin opines thoughtfully to himself after L'sen's comment. Since Amilin's there, he makes a show of resuming his work - not that he wasn't doing it before - but the way he enthusiastically swings the pick seems deliberately calculated to give the impression he was slacking off right up until the Assistant Weyrlingmaster showed up. "Try gifting her with a present," the weyrling advises Bayan. "She seems to take exception to that." There's a faint, resigned snort at Amilin's comment.

L'sen grins, a little sheepishly, up at Amilin. "Whups," he offers her cheerfully. "I was close, anyway. Smith, miner, it's kind of the same thing, you know?" And he answers, "Oh, Satiet. We were just talking about her. R'hin thinks she's mean, but she's not, you know? I mean, not really, not /all/ the time."

"Just when she's awake," R'hin adds.

Bayan grins at R'hin's advice, "You sound too nice to mean it. She'll probably take the gift and throw it at me." He chuckles, "I'll just try saying hi. Nothing bad could come from a greeting, right?" and he looks at them all.

Amilin chuckles softly, "Ahh, Satiet. Yes, well. Either one of them might be right, depending on her mood." Though she gives R'hin a look that suggests she is paying attention to more than just how he works, she turns causally enough back to the others, "She can be prickly, if you upset her, just as many people can. But it's not always wise to upset some...Hi might be safe, depending on how it's said."

"Oh, no, she won't give it back. She was brought up not to re-gift a present, no matter who it was from." R'hin sounds like the voice of experience here. "Wait-- I'm -nice- now? I'm confused, I mean I thought you were making dark and veiled threats referencing your dark and veiled past just before?" R'hin affects a confused frown, head tilted as he stares at Bayan. The look from Amilin's certainly not missed, and the weyrling makes a show of swinging the pick again as if he never paused.

Even L'sen gets that joke, glancing over to R'hin with a snicker. "See, told you," he agrees, nodding.

Bayan looks wryly at R'hin, then nods to Amilin, "Simple hi. Nothing fancy. I'm pretty friendly." A shrug as he glances back at the weyrling, "I said the advice was nice, not you....but now you're just being funny." He snickers and shakes his head.

"Re-gift," Amilin lingers over the term and then chuckles, before she pauses and arches a brow after the rest of what R'hin says. Bayen gaining more of her attention now, "Dark and veiled threats? What's this?" She glances between them all, "I seem to have missed the more interesting parts of this discussion."

The next blow R'hin lands against the stone ends with the pick buried deep in the stone. He puts a boot to the edge, straining to free it, and manages it after a bit of effort. "As long as I'm entertaining you in some fashion, my life's wish is being fulfilled." He prepares to swing again, pausing at Amilin's question, offering a dismissive shrug. "Just the same-old, same-old, ma'am," he says blithely, glossing over it with the light comment, "Another day in the life of a lowly peon."

L'sen just grins at all three of them, shaking his head. "Yeah, well. I better be going, so I'll see y'all around, 'kay? Night, y'all," he tells them as he offers a wave and starts for the living cavern, perhaps for a late-night snack.

Bayan chuckles at Amilin, "Don't worry. R'hin here was insulting me a good part of the conversation, and I pretty much told him to be nice. He means to call /me/ dark and veiled. He wouldn't be the first." He gives a non-chalant shrug with an amiable smile, as though they were discussing the weather, "And good to know, R'hin." He keeps smiling, for Amilin and L'sen's sake anyway. Back to Amilin, "Nothing interesting, I promise." He grins at L'sen, "I'll see you later, L'sen."