Log: Guy Talk
Who: P'draig, V'ryce, Jekzith, Loketh
When: 11/11/15
Where: Feeding Grounds, Fort Weyr
What: Paddy and Val share some guy talk while Jekzith and Loketh munch down on dinner.
Fort Weyr Feeding Grounds
Nestled in the southwestern end of the oval-shaped Bowl, this grassy field provides quite a contrast from the unremarkable dirt ground found elsewhere around it. These are the pastures for the herdbeasts which feed the inhabitants of Fort Weyr.
The peaceful lake shore from which the herdbeasts drink runs east, where the sandy shore allows for swimming and relaxing, and curves to the south. The western most portion of the lake is fenced off, to keep the herdbeasts separated from bathing dragons, and is reachable to the south. The bowl stretches far to the northeast, nearly 2 miles long. The weyrling barracks lie a north of here. Immediately to the west, next to the cliffs, are pens in which the herdbeasts are kept.
In the pens, Jekzith is bouncing around having a grand old time getting some supper. P'draig leans on the fence as he's done countless times before, keeping the brown company. The Weyrlingmaster is quiet, the chill of evening descening as the last of the Fortian twilight fades.
Vaning down from the crisp autumn sky, Loketh lands outside the feeding grounds, his eyes a bright red. Val slides down his beast's leg, giving the great bronze a thump of affection before striding away. While V'ryce saunters over towards whoever that figure along the fence happends to be, his dragon warbles to Jekzith, waiting patiently for the brown to find a likely meal before he tries for his own.
Intent on the catch, Jekzith doesn't answer at first, he drops suddenly, taking out his supper then responds. << Hello Loketh! Come on in, there's plenty! >> P'draig turns slightly as the contact between himself and his dragon allows him to identify V'ryce. A hand lifts, the Weyrlingmaster calls out a greeting. "Hey Val."
Tucked deep into his flying gear, Val waves gloved fingers to P'draig, grinning over his shoulder as bits of Loketh's conversation with Jekzith flit past his mind. Slipping into place next to the other man, Val adopts a lazy, partial sprawl on the fence, too, murmuring, "Mm, g'deve, Paddy. I see you're making certain Jekzith gets a square meal." Meantime, Loketh tosses himself skyward -- to the consternation of the beasts below -- and quickly makes up his mind. A big herdbest is felled with a crushing pounce, the bronze then vaulting the fence to clear a path for others while he eats. "Hm, what's been up in your life?"
Loketh> Jekzith senses that Loketh flows in tangled jungle creepers, << Thank you, Jekzith. I'm abominably hungry. >>
"I still get gnawing stomach pains when he gets too hungry, so I suppose it's self-preservation," P'draig quips with a loose laugh. "Just in from sweeps?" For the flying gear. "Me? Oh y'know, the usual, flying Fall, spending time with Palia, getting in as much time as possible over Ista-way. Waiting to see which gold'll rise first here. You?" Gray-blue eyes shift down the fence towards the bronzerider a friendly smile on the Weyrlingmaster's face. << I was too. I'm feeling a little better now," >> Jekzith replies to Loketh with a bright burst of blue.
V'ryce chortles a little, nodding out to Loketh, who's quickly tucking into his kill -- which makes Val turn all his attention back on P'draig. "Mhm, you know it. Had to warm up in my weyr before I'd take him down here." A slight lift of a platinum brow, and a more knowing smile accompany P'draig's words of Ista. "Ahh, yes. I believe a certain Istan greenrider is the redfruit of your eye, these days. Quite the nice-looking one, too." Wink. As to which gold will rise first, Val simply shrugs, flicking fingers out in a negligent gesture towards the collection of queens' weyrs. "Mrf, we have a large choice. Maybe even Niyath might be able, again."
"T'mic," P'draig supplies the name with a wide, fond grin for the named greenrider. "And Izzy. And Seliene." The Weyrlingmaster's got a chuckle for that wink and shrugs too. "Yeah. Lots of choices, but it'll be good to have the question settled. It's not good to be so up in the air at times like this."
V'ryce grins broadly over to the brownrider, his clear green eyes sparkling with a bit of mischief. "Oh, I know T'mic. If I was one for settling, he'd be high on my list, too. Mm, and I know Seliene is T'rien's half-sister. Izzy?" he inqures lightly, just in time for Loketh to bound off of the small remnants of his first kill so he can bring down another and begin polishing it off. "Ah, that's better. No growling guts anymore," Val sighs in relief of his weyrmate. "Do you have a..hmm..preference as to which gold you'd like to see go up next?"
"Do you now? Heh. Yeah, didn't figure myself for it, but there you go. Mic's something else," P'draig answers easily. "With Mic, I don't think there's any such thing as really settling." There's answering mischief in Paddy's grin. "Izarit," he clarifies for the nickname. "Brownrider from Ista's last clutch. Kajrath's." Jekzith's still absorbed with that other kill, crunching bones happily. "Leah or Za have the most experience while still being healthy enough to see things through. Suvain's a little young yet," says the Weyrlingmaster slowly.
Val's smirk to Paddy is rich with implications. "Mhm, I do," he informs the Weyrlingmaster. "Mm, yes, Mic didn't strike me as one to..ahm..limit his options. I will say I'm a bit surprised to hear that /you/ are open to such a thing, too. You struck me as a one-person type of man." Fingers tap the fence rhythmically, lightly, and the bronzerider notes, "Hmm, seems I should make more trips down to Ista to sample the ahm..climate more." Grin. "Yes, Leah or Za would be my choices, too. Mm, but the queens often seems to have their own minds about such things."
"I'm done with that," P'draig says lightly, leaning his elbows a little further over the fence rail and letting more of his weight rest there. "Two weyrmates, two bad cases of broken heart. Never again," continues the Weyrlingmaster, with a wry little smile on his face. "Ista's a good place to find company. But so can here be. Just a matter of timing and luck." A nod follows. "Yeah. It's up to the queens in the end."
A look of slightly curious inquiry flicks over Val's face at Paddy's take on relationships, the younger man then giving a shrug and a nod. "No need for those with T'mic, as you've said." A droll little smile creeps back over his mouth. "Mhm, yes indeed. I've found the company at Fort to be mostly agreeable, of late, so I rarely indulge beyond our home, right now." Beat. "But maybe, hmm, just maybe I might develop a need for more sun now that autumn is around."
"Pretty much. There's no jealousy on either side, which is ... a relief." P'draig takes in that droll smile and his brows lift a little. "Sure. Nice to get out and about though too. Though if you're looking for sun, you might do better in the actual South than at Ista. It's been raining a bunch."
"Mm, you have the best of both worlds, then," Val comments brightly, watching Loketh take down his third beast. "Honestly, I think that's enough!" he laughs out to the bronze, who peers at his rider for a moment before returning to eating from his latest kill. "It is? Oh shards, I enjoy Ista. Hm, but rainy won't do." Tap-tap goes a forefinger against his chin. "Well, there's always Boll, or Southern, like you said, Paddy. Igen's much too dry and hot."
"Pretty much," P'draig agrees. "Couldn't be happier really." Jekzith's decided to go for another himself, leaving a little pile of skin and bone devoid of any real meat behind in his wake. He circles the grounds a couple of times, then drops onto a fluffy ovine. Crunch. "Mm. Igen's nice that way though. Dry. Izarit's from there originally. Trader family."
Looks like V'ryce is plotting his upcoming 'getaways' already, spurred on by all the talk of warmer climes. "I'm glad for you, Paddy. Hmm, let's see now. Boll, Nerat, Ista after the rain clears off. Southern, oh! And Shipfish, of course. Hmm, did I miss any other likelies?" Of Igen, "Hmm, well, I could see going there for a day or two -- or if you had a cold. Wonderful to bake it out of your bones there."
"Helps to have someone to bring along to Shipfish though," answers P'draig with that mischief dancing in his eyes again. "The rocks in Igen are pretty. You know, all those colors." He gestures vaguely then pushes off the fence, turns around to lean his shoulders against the rail, arms stretched along it. "Sounds like you're not lacking for company either, so would that make you a happy man too, Val?"
V'ryce rests his cheek on his gloved hands upon a rail, watching P'draig as the brownrider talks. "Hmm.." is his first reply. "If I'm wanting a trip to Igen, I'll go and look at those rocks. Sound nice." A soft laugh and a shake of his head. "Mm, no, definitely not lacking. Although I do miss a few of the, ahm..more coy ones that holds and crafts seem to breed up." Is that a gleeful sort of evil laughing behind the bronzer's eyes?
"Yep. Interesting spot," P'draig comments further about Igen. The laugh draws one of his own. "You like 'em shy then?" he asks, grinning over at the bronzerider.
"My good Weyrlingmaster, I like them any way," Val chuckles, waggling brows at P'draig. "Coy, hoyden, brash, quiet, thin, thick, boy, girl, plain or fetching! As long as they're willing, moving, and of an..ahm..acceptable age." Wink. "Mm, do /you/ have a preference?"
P'draig bursts out laughing in earnest and nods. "I think you might have that in common with Mic," he says with laughter still in his voice. "Me ... I think the only thing that's a real turn off is meanness. I dunno. It's a matter of the moment you know? That spark."
V'ryce grins lopsidedly at Paddy, his eyes glinting bright humor and enjoyment. "Hm, maybe I do. I know what you mean about meanness, though. Truly spiteful and appallingly rotten personalities have many drawbacks, even to one such as me." It's here that Loketh makes a huffing sound at his rider, now blue eyes whirling lazily as he proceeds to groom himself clean of blood. "Now that is quite enough, you lout!" Val calls out to the bronze with lovingly mock-sternness, then directing his gaze back to P'draig. "Mhm, I do know. All too well, really." A rub of his free hand to his jaw, then, "The moment grabbed me up when I asked Sal."
"Yeah, my brother was seeing this girl over Telgar way, she had that mean streak. Broke his heart. That type? Not for me, no matter how pretty." P'draig leans back a little further against the fence, tips a look over at Jekzith who's finished with fluffy there and is cleaning his teeth. "I remember." Softly, for the incident with Sal'ros. "I'm glad no serious harm came from that day."
"Ahh, but your brother's, ahm, difficulty lay in becoming serious about her," Val gently murmurs to P'draig. "Mm, you can only be hurt when you offer up your heart. Much better to keep things light, I've found." Why does it sound like he has more knowledge about heartache than someone of his ilk should? "Bah, don't flay yourself about that, Paddy. It's old news, as the Harper's say, and I've moved beyond it." A look is cast out to Loketh, who chuffs at Jekzith, then proceeds to waddle-skip over towards his rider, and then Val's eyes light upon the other man with a certain intensity. "I'm going to relax..preferably with a nice bath, a bottle of cognac and a warm fire. Would you like to join me for any or all of those?"
"Yeah, pretty much," Paddy agrees. "Though I'll disagree about offering up one's heart. It's worth it most of the time, even when there's hurt." He laughs a little about Sal'ros. "No flaying here, just earnest gratitude," he clarifies. "Could've gone a lot worse." Jekzith pushes up to his feet and streeeetches long then leaps over the fence and wings away towards his wallow in the weyrlingmaster's ground-based weyr. "Sure, at least some, if not all," P'draig says mildly and pushes away from the fence. "C'mon." And he starts to amble across the Bowl towards the caverns and the springs beyond.
V'ryce only shakes his head at Paddy's take on relationships, his visage almost indulgent for a moment. "I'm glad someone worried so about me -- other than my family, of course." As Paddy starts off towards the Weyr, Val calls out with some humor, "Mm, well, I /was/ planning on doing all of those things up in my weyr..but if you find that arrangement disagreeable, I guess we could take a few rounds in the living cavern."
P'draig turns around, walking backwards and then laughs. "Wasn't aiming for the living cavern, didn't realize you had a bath." There's a moment's hesitation, then Paddy nods. "See you up there then. Just need to get Jekzith turned around and have a word with Miara." A wave of his hand follows and a change of direction as the Weyrlingmaster sets off to take care of both tasks.
When: 11/11/15
Where: Feeding Grounds, Fort Weyr
What: Paddy and Val share some guy talk while Jekzith and Loketh munch down on dinner.
Fort Weyr Feeding Grounds
Nestled in the southwestern end of the oval-shaped Bowl, this grassy field provides quite a contrast from the unremarkable dirt ground found elsewhere around it. These are the pastures for the herdbeasts which feed the inhabitants of Fort Weyr.
The peaceful lake shore from which the herdbeasts drink runs east, where the sandy shore allows for swimming and relaxing, and curves to the south. The western most portion of the lake is fenced off, to keep the herdbeasts separated from bathing dragons, and is reachable to the south. The bowl stretches far to the northeast, nearly 2 miles long. The weyrling barracks lie a north of here. Immediately to the west, next to the cliffs, are pens in which the herdbeasts are kept.
In the pens, Jekzith is bouncing around having a grand old time getting some supper. P'draig leans on the fence as he's done countless times before, keeping the brown company. The Weyrlingmaster is quiet, the chill of evening descening as the last of the Fortian twilight fades.
Vaning down from the crisp autumn sky, Loketh lands outside the feeding grounds, his eyes a bright red. Val slides down his beast's leg, giving the great bronze a thump of affection before striding away. While V'ryce saunters over towards whoever that figure along the fence happends to be, his dragon warbles to Jekzith, waiting patiently for the brown to find a likely meal before he tries for his own.
Intent on the catch, Jekzith doesn't answer at first, he drops suddenly, taking out his supper then responds. << Hello Loketh! Come on in, there's plenty! >> P'draig turns slightly as the contact between himself and his dragon allows him to identify V'ryce. A hand lifts, the Weyrlingmaster calls out a greeting. "Hey Val."
Tucked deep into his flying gear, Val waves gloved fingers to P'draig, grinning over his shoulder as bits of Loketh's conversation with Jekzith flit past his mind. Slipping into place next to the other man, Val adopts a lazy, partial sprawl on the fence, too, murmuring, "Mm, g'deve, Paddy. I see you're making certain Jekzith gets a square meal." Meantime, Loketh tosses himself skyward -- to the consternation of the beasts below -- and quickly makes up his mind. A big herdbest is felled with a crushing pounce, the bronze then vaulting the fence to clear a path for others while he eats. "Hm, what's been up in your life?"
Loketh> Jekzith senses that Loketh flows in tangled jungle creepers, << Thank you, Jekzith. I'm abominably hungry. >>
"I still get gnawing stomach pains when he gets too hungry, so I suppose it's self-preservation," P'draig quips with a loose laugh. "Just in from sweeps?" For the flying gear. "Me? Oh y'know, the usual, flying Fall, spending time with Palia, getting in as much time as possible over Ista-way. Waiting to see which gold'll rise first here. You?" Gray-blue eyes shift down the fence towards the bronzerider a friendly smile on the Weyrlingmaster's face. << I was too. I'm feeling a little better now," >> Jekzith replies to Loketh with a bright burst of blue.
V'ryce chortles a little, nodding out to Loketh, who's quickly tucking into his kill -- which makes Val turn all his attention back on P'draig. "Mhm, you know it. Had to warm up in my weyr before I'd take him down here." A slight lift of a platinum brow, and a more knowing smile accompany P'draig's words of Ista. "Ahh, yes. I believe a certain Istan greenrider is the redfruit of your eye, these days. Quite the nice-looking one, too." Wink. As to which gold will rise first, Val simply shrugs, flicking fingers out in a negligent gesture towards the collection of queens' weyrs. "Mrf, we have a large choice. Maybe even Niyath might be able, again."
"T'mic," P'draig supplies the name with a wide, fond grin for the named greenrider. "And Izzy. And Seliene." The Weyrlingmaster's got a chuckle for that wink and shrugs too. "Yeah. Lots of choices, but it'll be good to have the question settled. It's not good to be so up in the air at times like this."
V'ryce grins broadly over to the brownrider, his clear green eyes sparkling with a bit of mischief. "Oh, I know T'mic. If I was one for settling, he'd be high on my list, too. Mm, and I know Seliene is T'rien's half-sister. Izzy?" he inqures lightly, just in time for Loketh to bound off of the small remnants of his first kill so he can bring down another and begin polishing it off. "Ah, that's better. No growling guts anymore," Val sighs in relief of his weyrmate. "Do you have a..hmm..preference as to which gold you'd like to see go up next?"
"Do you now? Heh. Yeah, didn't figure myself for it, but there you go. Mic's something else," P'draig answers easily. "With Mic, I don't think there's any such thing as really settling." There's answering mischief in Paddy's grin. "Izarit," he clarifies for the nickname. "Brownrider from Ista's last clutch. Kajrath's." Jekzith's still absorbed with that other kill, crunching bones happily. "Leah or Za have the most experience while still being healthy enough to see things through. Suvain's a little young yet," says the Weyrlingmaster slowly.
Val's smirk to Paddy is rich with implications. "Mhm, I do," he informs the Weyrlingmaster. "Mm, yes, Mic didn't strike me as one to..ahm..limit his options. I will say I'm a bit surprised to hear that /you/ are open to such a thing, too. You struck me as a one-person type of man." Fingers tap the fence rhythmically, lightly, and the bronzerider notes, "Hmm, seems I should make more trips down to Ista to sample the ahm..climate more." Grin. "Yes, Leah or Za would be my choices, too. Mm, but the queens often seems to have their own minds about such things."
"I'm done with that," P'draig says lightly, leaning his elbows a little further over the fence rail and letting more of his weight rest there. "Two weyrmates, two bad cases of broken heart. Never again," continues the Weyrlingmaster, with a wry little smile on his face. "Ista's a good place to find company. But so can here be. Just a matter of timing and luck." A nod follows. "Yeah. It's up to the queens in the end."
A look of slightly curious inquiry flicks over Val's face at Paddy's take on relationships, the younger man then giving a shrug and a nod. "No need for those with T'mic, as you've said." A droll little smile creeps back over his mouth. "Mhm, yes indeed. I've found the company at Fort to be mostly agreeable, of late, so I rarely indulge beyond our home, right now." Beat. "But maybe, hmm, just maybe I might develop a need for more sun now that autumn is around."
"Pretty much. There's no jealousy on either side, which is ... a relief." P'draig takes in that droll smile and his brows lift a little. "Sure. Nice to get out and about though too. Though if you're looking for sun, you might do better in the actual South than at Ista. It's been raining a bunch."
"Mm, you have the best of both worlds, then," Val comments brightly, watching Loketh take down his third beast. "Honestly, I think that's enough!" he laughs out to the bronze, who peers at his rider for a moment before returning to eating from his latest kill. "It is? Oh shards, I enjoy Ista. Hm, but rainy won't do." Tap-tap goes a forefinger against his chin. "Well, there's always Boll, or Southern, like you said, Paddy. Igen's much too dry and hot."
"Pretty much," P'draig agrees. "Couldn't be happier really." Jekzith's decided to go for another himself, leaving a little pile of skin and bone devoid of any real meat behind in his wake. He circles the grounds a couple of times, then drops onto a fluffy ovine. Crunch. "Mm. Igen's nice that way though. Dry. Izarit's from there originally. Trader family."
Looks like V'ryce is plotting his upcoming 'getaways' already, spurred on by all the talk of warmer climes. "I'm glad for you, Paddy. Hmm, let's see now. Boll, Nerat, Ista after the rain clears off. Southern, oh! And Shipfish, of course. Hmm, did I miss any other likelies?" Of Igen, "Hmm, well, I could see going there for a day or two -- or if you had a cold. Wonderful to bake it out of your bones there."
"Helps to have someone to bring along to Shipfish though," answers P'draig with that mischief dancing in his eyes again. "The rocks in Igen are pretty. You know, all those colors." He gestures vaguely then pushes off the fence, turns around to lean his shoulders against the rail, arms stretched along it. "Sounds like you're not lacking for company either, so would that make you a happy man too, Val?"
V'ryce rests his cheek on his gloved hands upon a rail, watching P'draig as the brownrider talks. "Hmm.." is his first reply. "If I'm wanting a trip to Igen, I'll go and look at those rocks. Sound nice." A soft laugh and a shake of his head. "Mm, no, definitely not lacking. Although I do miss a few of the, ahm..more coy ones that holds and crafts seem to breed up." Is that a gleeful sort of evil laughing behind the bronzer's eyes?
"Yep. Interesting spot," P'draig comments further about Igen. The laugh draws one of his own. "You like 'em shy then?" he asks, grinning over at the bronzerider.
"My good Weyrlingmaster, I like them any way," Val chuckles, waggling brows at P'draig. "Coy, hoyden, brash, quiet, thin, thick, boy, girl, plain or fetching! As long as they're willing, moving, and of an..ahm..acceptable age." Wink. "Mm, do /you/ have a preference?"
P'draig bursts out laughing in earnest and nods. "I think you might have that in common with Mic," he says with laughter still in his voice. "Me ... I think the only thing that's a real turn off is meanness. I dunno. It's a matter of the moment you know? That spark."
V'ryce grins lopsidedly at Paddy, his eyes glinting bright humor and enjoyment. "Hm, maybe I do. I know what you mean about meanness, though. Truly spiteful and appallingly rotten personalities have many drawbacks, even to one such as me." It's here that Loketh makes a huffing sound at his rider, now blue eyes whirling lazily as he proceeds to groom himself clean of blood. "Now that is quite enough, you lout!" Val calls out to the bronze with lovingly mock-sternness, then directing his gaze back to P'draig. "Mhm, I do know. All too well, really." A rub of his free hand to his jaw, then, "The moment grabbed me up when I asked Sal."
"Yeah, my brother was seeing this girl over Telgar way, she had that mean streak. Broke his heart. That type? Not for me, no matter how pretty." P'draig leans back a little further against the fence, tips a look over at Jekzith who's finished with fluffy there and is cleaning his teeth. "I remember." Softly, for the incident with Sal'ros. "I'm glad no serious harm came from that day."
"Ahh, but your brother's, ahm, difficulty lay in becoming serious about her," Val gently murmurs to P'draig. "Mm, you can only be hurt when you offer up your heart. Much better to keep things light, I've found." Why does it sound like he has more knowledge about heartache than someone of his ilk should? "Bah, don't flay yourself about that, Paddy. It's old news, as the Harper's say, and I've moved beyond it." A look is cast out to Loketh, who chuffs at Jekzith, then proceeds to waddle-skip over towards his rider, and then Val's eyes light upon the other man with a certain intensity. "I'm going to relax..preferably with a nice bath, a bottle of cognac and a warm fire. Would you like to join me for any or all of those?"
"Yeah, pretty much," Paddy agrees. "Though I'll disagree about offering up one's heart. It's worth it most of the time, even when there's hurt." He laughs a little about Sal'ros. "No flaying here, just earnest gratitude," he clarifies. "Could've gone a lot worse." Jekzith pushes up to his feet and streeeetches long then leaps over the fence and wings away towards his wallow in the weyrlingmaster's ground-based weyr. "Sure, at least some, if not all," P'draig says mildly and pushes away from the fence. "C'mon." And he starts to amble across the Bowl towards the caverns and the springs beyond.
V'ryce only shakes his head at Paddy's take on relationships, his visage almost indulgent for a moment. "I'm glad someone worried so about me -- other than my family, of course." As Paddy starts off towards the Weyr, Val calls out with some humor, "Mm, well, I /was/ planning on doing all of those things up in my weyr..but if you find that arrangement disagreeable, I guess we could take a few rounds in the living cavern."
P'draig turns around, walking backwards and then laughs. "Wasn't aiming for the living cavern, didn't realize you had a bath." There's a moment's hesitation, then Paddy nods. "See you up there then. Just need to get Jekzith turned around and have a word with Miara." A wave of his hand follows and a change of direction as the Weyrlingmaster sets off to take care of both tasks.