Reonth's Flight and Aftermath

Ierne Weyrhold - Marketplace

A wide square full of shops and stores and sidewalk vendors of all types. Mostly Traders who specialise in certain items or Crafters who wanted a place in which to market their wares. Due to the WeyrHold being a major trade center, its an ideal place for something like this, open all turn round rather then just people selling during gathers.

L'ren is pacing in front of his store front, muttering to himself. His hair is a mess, and there are bags under his eyes, looks like he hasn't been getting much sleep lately. Reonth however is blissfully asleep, and getting /rather/ bright. The arrival of someone else is noted as L'ren happens to pace in that direction, and he stops still, eyeing first Arinith, then Reonth, then finally settling on R'miel with a tired grunt. "Hey." is all he says.

R'miel has on a tool belt, he's carrying his coat in his hands. Arin is practically scampering behind him, that tail moving back and forth, back and forth. R'miel grins when he spots the greenrider. "Hey he- whoa. L'ren man… you look… not so good. Are you alright?" He heads over to pat L'ren on the back, then looks at Reonth. He blinks. "Ohh. When's the last time you got any sleep?"

L'ren shies away at the pat on the back, rather jumpy for some reason. Reonth is quite likely that reason. "I, ah, I'll… be fine… soon. Reonth… soon." he nods, keeping his distance for the time being. "I've been busy, working, and… I never sleep well, not now, not when she's glowing." he nods at Reonth, who stirs as if on cue and peers at Arinith, ignoring the riders entirely. «The sky is so blue, like the ocean. And flying is kind of like swimming…» she muses, not exactly able to keep her thoughts to herself at this time.

R'miel nods a bit to L'ren. "My arm is finally back to full working force." He flexes it, as if he need to prove it. "So I figured I'd come 'round to help. Er, if you still need it." Arinith stretches out his wings a bit, unfolding, then folding them. The broze looks up into the sky and seems to muse for a moment. «Swimming is my next favorite thing, after flying. It's a little different though. In flying, if you go up you have to come down. In swimming if you go down, you need to come up.»

L'ren peers up at the store front, and nods slowly. "Er, yeah, help… Uh, okay…" he nods, glancing to Reonth, thoughtfully. He must know there's no time for work now. "I, ah, glad to hear that. About the arm." he nods, then waves his hand at the door. "After you." Reonth flutters her wings, almost an excercise. She's obviously been swimming today, as a small amount of sand is dislodged by that movement. «Swimming is my first favourite thing, but flying is almost as good.» she affirms, tilting her head up at the sky, and launching herself into it. L'ren suddenly blushes, and glances to the store, suddenly in a little more of a hurry to get in. He pushes past R'miel, with a low voiced mutter of "sorry", and enters the abandoned store.

R'miel looks at the two dragons, then turns back to L'ren with a grin. "Great. Let's.." He blinks a bit and holds back a chuckle as the greenrider pushes past him. R'miel at least holds the door for him, heading inside with that smirk plastered to his face. He's almost as bad as his dragon. Arinith shakes a bit as some sand catches the wind and blows against his wings. After Reonth leaves the ground, he gives her just a second, then spreads his wings and lifts off with ease.

Reonth wasn't kidding about swimming being her favourite activity, all those turns of working against the water have strengthened her muscles somewhat, though she is still only a green. At best she has the stamina of a blue, and not a particularly large one at that. She doesn't seem to want to take advantage of her superior agility just yet, simply flying straight upwards, but then, she has to get clear of the buildings first. Meanwhile, once R'miel has entered the store, L'ren shoves the door closed. He's not really thinking, is he? Not with his /head/, at least. That door's got to be near impossible to open from the inside. Oddly, the man is still keeping his distance, though he's decided to do some harmless dusting. With his shirt. Woo, topless greenrider. Oh, wait, he's a dude. Oh well.

R'miel removes his shirt too. Because that's what guys do, right? One takes off his shirt, soon they're all shirtless. He tries to set out on some actual work, looking over some of the shelving to see if it could be fixed up by mending. Since some of it can't, he starts pulling it apart. Arinith would spend half the day in the air and the other half in the water if he could. He's got plenty of stamina, though he lets the green stay ahead of him in the air. Even with his relatively slender size for a bronze, Reonth is probably much more agile than he is. For now Arin is content to watch the green, to see how high she goes.

L'ren glances over to R'miel, and looks the man up and down, then blushes and looks back to his, er, what was he doing again? Oh, right, dusting. With his shirt. He frowns at it, then shakes his head, tossing the shirt aside and moving over to help R'miel dismantle the shelves. We're men, manly men! L'ren has no problem waking up beside a man, flight or no flight, it's the bronzeriders he's unsure of. They can, on occasion, react … poorly. "Makin' progress on the shop, dunno why I lock myself away." he notes, quietly. Reonth meanwhile has decided she's high enough up now, so she's changing her tack, flying in a zig zag pattern out towards the beach, and the sea. Her altitude changes with every air pocket and thermal she hits, sometimes up, sometimes down, but her heading never does.

R'miel is sort of… avoiding eye-contact with L'ren. He tries to concentrate on the wood in front of him. The shelving wood. Really. He finally looks over at the greenrider when he comes over to give him a hand. "Ah, thanks. Yep, soon it'll look fantastic in here." Normally R'miel might have a different reaction, but L'ren was a friend. Arinith keeps himself just a bit higher than the green. He follows her pattern the best he can, seemingly enjoying the motions, his eyes whirling. Unfortunately the thermals react to his size a bit differently, and he has to work a little harder to close the distance between himself and Reonth.

Reonth pumps her wings just that little bit harder, veering deliberately upwards now, still heading out to sea. At this rate, the flight will end with the pair crashing into the water. At the beach, a young blue attempts to join the chase, but Reonth hisses at him, and he spirals back down to land. «The little cheat. Be there from the start or don't be there at all.» she rants, though her real frustration is that she's tiring already, and she knows it. Her efforts to raise her altitude are becoming less and less, soon her flight levels out, and not long after that it begins to drop. L'ren looks up, and around, muttering as he stalks around the store, almost as if he's looking for something. There is one creaky old cupboard in the corner behind the door, hidden from sight when the door was open, and this is where he goes, pulling the doors open with a bang, pulling one right off and tossing it aside with a growl. He finds what he's after, dragging out a couple of folded up hides, in much better condition than the rest of the shop. "I… sort of… I've been staying here. My cottage is too far from my office, and the weyrlord's quarters… I prefer here." Seriously? Well, no wonder he hasn't had a good night's sleep in a while! "I, ah… Sorry. Reonth, Arinith… The door…" Ah, the door that may be impossible to open from within, the door that he closed. He spreads out the hides, not much, but better than plain floor.

Arinith gives the green a bit of room as she moves upwards, though his flapping becomes more vigorous as he tries to maintain his position. He snaps at the blue when it comes close, his voice suddenly turning into a firey red. «Get lost!» The bronze is pleased when Reonth send him the same message. He's tired, but the landing of the blue closes the deal for him and he gets a sudden burst of adrenline. Arinith fixes his wings, using gravity and his own weight to build up enough speed to zero in on the green. With his claws outstretched he swoops in to encompass the green. He gives a triumphant trumpet and will help her reach the sand on the beach below. R'miel meanwhile moves over towards the older greenrider. He looks a bit sheepish, and lifts his glasses into his hair. "Er… don't worry about it, Ren. You like to sleep here? I suppose if it's a long walk." At this point it's too late to go running for the door, and the bronzer lowers himself onto the hides. "You should at least get a cot in here eventually.." He watches the other man with his bright blues.

L'ren gestures vaguely at the back of the store. He'd gesture at the specific corner, but for the life of him he can't recall which it is right now. He's got other things on his mind. "Gonna get some cushions in over there, they'll be comfier. Maybe a long chair." A lounge is still not a cot, but it's better than a couple of furs on the ground. He nods slowly, reclining on the hides even as he speaks. And then, he finally makes eye-contact with R'miel, at the precise moment that Reonth is caught. One final husky apology, and then L'ren gives in, lets Reonth's desires, hormones, and current activity, overwhelm him.

Ierne Weyrhold - Abandoned Store

The interior of this store is dark, dusty, and there's a subtle but unpleasant odour that simply will not fade. The windows are desperately in need of a good clean, the shutters have fallen off, and the door needs to be shoved more often than not, as it has a tendency to stick. It would seem that the store was painted, once, but the walls have long since faded to grey and most of the paint has peeled and flaked off of the walls. The store is long and narrow, squeezed in tightly between two others almost as an afterthought, and there's no back room to speak of.

There are a few shelves around, some fastened to the wall, some free-standing, and very little consistency among them. The wooden shelves are in various stages of rot, and the metal ones are mostly rusted, or have sharp edges. Several glowbaskets have been placed about the room, but most of them are dead, and the rest can only flicker feebly on the brink of failure. The final touch is not the crawler webs that adorn just about every corner, no, it's the fact that even the crawlers have abandoned this shop, and their very own webs.

R'miel draws in a deep breath and smacks his lips. He rolls over with a bit of a groan, still half asleep. "Man these mattresses are uncomfortable…" His arm goes to slide around the person next to him, but only gets halfway. Then he realizes the person next to him isn't Ysa. And it's not even a woman. He scrambles into a sitting position, and swallows hard. He looks a bit funny though, his hair is all matted and his eyes are like a deer in headlights. "Umm… uh…"

L'ren is still quite solidly asleep, yep. He looks a lot calmer that way, peaceful, almost angelic. He's also smiling quite broadly, which may be a tad disconcerting. At the arm coming, he murmurs and tries to snuggle closer, brow furrowing sleepily when it suddenly withdraws. He blinks, and blearily opens his eyes, blushing as soon as he realises where he is, why he's here, and who he's with. Also, where his pants are, namely hanging from a shelf on the other side of the room. "Ahh. Erm. Klah, there." he grunts in single syllables, gesturing at a bench near the back with all the necessary things for klah at least, though not much else. Klah first, deal with things next. Yes.

R'miel blinks more at L'ren, then nods before he even realizes what the man's said. When the words register, he nods again. He looks around for his underpants, but they're not in plain view. His cheeks go pink, but he deicdes to just deal with it like a man. The worst was over, right? He's already seen you naked, up close and personally. R'miel staggers upwards and makes his way over to the klah. He pours two mugs, then goes over to sit back down with his knees bent in front of him. One of the mugs is slid to the greenrider, though the bronzer seems to be avoiding eye-contact with him. "Er.. These… these sort of things happen…"

L'ren nods slowly, and sips at the klah. He really doesn't seem to mind the lack of pants, it was more a casual observation. He only has eyes for his klah, anyway. "All too often. In a few months, up she'll go again." he notes, with a shrug. He's accepted it, really, it's just complicated right /before/. "It's, yeah." He shrugs, then stretches, grunting. "This is why I don't get out much, once she starts to glow."

R'miel sips at his klah and looks over the rim of the mug at the greenrider. "Ah well… I mean. Arin enjoyed himself. I guess, in a couple of months… maybe.. I dunno. I mean, it's okay, I just don't want our friendship to get weird." He spots his pants at least, and slides them on. There's a blink from the bronzer as L'ren grunts. "I didn't… hurt you, did I?" He rubs his head to get his hair back in order and puts on his glasses.

L'ren shakes his head as he finishes his klah - he's a quick drinker - and stands up, heading over to the shelf his pants were hanging from and taking them down, putting them on. "Reonth, too. I'll admit, I…" he smiles, then trails off, and nods curtly. "Right. Don't want it to get weird." he notes, blushing a little. He doesn't want to lose the friendship either, and he's certainly not looking for more, but… He'll be right in a day or two, right now there are still too many crazy hormones in his system. The grunt and resulting question become a welcome distraction, and he shakes his head, "It's nothing, nothing I'm not used to. Flights… they're not known for being gentle." he shrugs, and glances to the window, and the marketplace. "Dragon hormones don't exactly take the riders into account. I'll be fine. I, ah, are you okay?" he asks, still facing the window however. He blinks as he sees his reflection in the grimy glass, idly smoothing his hair down again, or trying to. It resists, and he frowns. "I, uh, have you seen my glasses?"

R'miel pulls L'ren's glasses off the shelf that his were sitting on. At least they had had some sense last night. He hands the glasses to the greenrider. "Ah, these must be yours then.." Then he scratches his head, and spots his jacket at least, putting that on and not bothering with his shirt. Wherever it might be. "Thanks for uh… being decent about things. I should… hit the road." He thumbs towards the door, then goes to offer his hand to the greenrider. After a realization at how awkward that would be, he instead move in to give L'ren a hug. It's of the manly variety. Lots of back slapping and such. Then he makes his way towards the exit, to fight with the door.

L'ren ahhs, and takes the glasses, with a nod. He looks a little awkward at the hug, like he'd've preferred the handshake, but he goes along with it. Manly back slapping, yay. "It's, yeah… Thanks for everything here." They actually got a considerable amount of work done, though it may not have seemed like it at the time. He's really innocently thanking for that, but he blushes when he realises there is more than one interpretation. But the struggle with the door, L'ren frowns. "Ah, I closed that, didn't I? Sorry. I… I can have Reonth call for help?" he suggests lamely, adding a sheepish, "I had to do that the last time."

R'miel tugs and tugs on the door. Finally he props his leg up against the wall. "Ah, it's no problem. No, I think I can get it." He strains and pushes with his leg. Finally the door pops open and the bronzer nearly goes backwards onto his rear. "Whoa! Whoa… there we go. Okay. Heh. Really need a new one. First priority. Least should keep out any thieves though, eh?" He chuckles awkwardly, giving a wave to L'ren and makes his way out. He closes the door behind himself, but doesn't yank it shut or anything.

L'ren nods, glancing out to the marketplace idly. "I'll just, oh, right." he mutters, and races out, still clad only in pants and glasses. "I… meeting… I don't know how weyrwomen do it." he mutters, peering up at the sky for an estimate of time. Sure, watches may be around, but L'ren clearly prefers the old-fashioned, books are the only area he'll happily accept the 'new' production method of paper. He gives a nod to R'miel as he rushes off to the Weyrhold, though he's unlikely to make a good impression dressed as he is.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License