Clever Candidate

Monaco Bay Weyr - Cove Beach
Sparkling black sands are gently washed over with crystal blue waters, creating a playful blend of colors that twist and meld under the alternating rays of sun and moon. The cove stretches out from the mouth of the river towards the ocean, mixing saltwater with fresh for an invigorating rush that teems with life.
The coast curves eastward, the waters growing more quiet along the broad expanse of beach before finally meeting a large cove. Here there are few waves, the ocean's movement reduced to little more than slight swells. What might have been an idyllic and peaceful area however, is interrupted by a brilliantly gleaming structure that stands on the edge of the sands.
Large steel poles soar upwards, supporting a staircase that leads to a pair of water slides. The height of the structure is remarkable, standing at a height comparable to that of a small gold dragon. Pipes pump water upward, creating small pools at the entrance of both plastic blue slides. The rush of water moves with the slides, following their twisting course downwards while easing their passenger's journey. Parts of the slides are open and others covered, creating a thrill for each voyager before unceremoniously dumping them into the still waters below. For the safety of all patrons, a large net has been drawn across the mouth of the cove to prevent any accidental drifting away.
Not far from the slides is a small stand that also seems to have been built just recently. A menu is posted on its side and displays a variety of drinks and snacks for beach goers.


The afternoons at Monaco Bay Weyr are always idyllic. The sun comfortably warm, a brisk breeze kicking up the surf for the surfers. People people people everywhere. Most in the water or lying in Rukbat's rays, but not all. Tykel has gotten his chores done early today so he's free to go do as he pleases. One of those things he has in mind is a run along the beach, nimbly dodging around bodies when needed but trying to keep to a straight line. He's wearing black short pants, neatly hemmed this time, a sapphire vest with a silver paisley design on it and his white Candidate's knot. All exposed skin glistens with a mixture of sweat and sunscreen cream. As he jogs along he looks around, looking for friendly faces.

Listen, Tykel, in Monaco Bay, friendly faces find you. If this were a scene from Jurassic Park there would be a telltale shiver of pondwater, a jingling ring of glassware clattering on a table's surface as concentric ripples shudder through liquid contents, or maybe a mirror that ominously declares objects reflected within it are closer than they appear. Alas. Tykel will have to rely on his old-fashioned human eyes and ears as a heavy weight boom-thoom-booms along behind him, keeping pace with the candidate's jog. Don't worry. It's only a Seksisaurus Rexth, the void-shattered blue dragon's eyes whirling through friendly - if pale - shades as he lengthens his stride for a step or two in order to attempt to show Tykel how it's done. Slow your pace. Puff out your chest. Wink at the ladies. Ask yourself where on earth is rider is, and why he isn't reeling this ridiculous beast in. All in a day's work at Babewatch.

Tykel does look back and he picks up the pace a little bit, lengthening his already long strides. He holds up his left arm, a black leather vambrace protecting his forearm, and a almost-grown blue firelizard comes in for a landing. "Azure Flame, stay close to me. That blue back there is gentle but he could inadvertently inhale you." He winks at that last, wondering if B'an is anywhere about. No matter, a draconic jogging companion is more than welcome. Azure Flame shifts to the Candidate's left shoulder so Tykel can have his arm back, the little blue trilling in what could only be delight and curiosity.

There's something mischievous, rather than malicious, about the look Seksicanth tilts in Tykel's general direction, eyes whirling even faster as his throat rumbles in what is unmistakably draconic laughter. OH WE HAVE A COMEDIAN OVER HERE. Alright, bet. The blue inhales deeeeeeeeeep, and though he is, in fact, much too far away to inhale the candidate's poor little blue flit, it doesn't stop him from inhaling something. Or maybe dragons can also choke on their own spit. Regardless, Seksicanth pays for that joke immediately, paws making massive divots in the sand with the force of his abrupt stop as he hacks and wheezes and generally makes a nuisance of himself. And conveniently lets the B'an in question catch up. "You… are… a menace…," the gently overweight man wheezes as he leans against his dragon's foreleg, clutching at a stitch in his side. "Leave… the poor guy… alone." Seksicanth, recovering from his sterling rendition of a cat hacking up a hairball, lifts his wings in imitation of a shrug and then looks towards Tykel, even if the candidate has continued his run without his unasked-for companion. "Not hurting him… is a low… low bar." Even for you, Seksicanth! It's fine though. Run while you still can, Tykel! Or don't. Seksi votes don't. Mostly because he wants to check your little blue buddy out without the risk of inhaling him this time, but listen, priorities.

Tykel slows to a stop and then returns at a more leisurely pace. He's grown since he's come to the Weyr and he's starting to fill out a bit. He chuckles softly, almost to himself. "Good afternoon B'an," he says in his quiet way. "That works out perfectly then…I have a possible business deal for you and Azure Flame can get aquainted with Seksicanth. Go, Azure Flame." The firelizard obediently launches and flies a little closer to the big, dark blue dragon, stopping to hover where he can easily be seen, azure and cobalt swirled into his well-oiled hide.

More power to you, Tykel. B'an is panting and more than a little gross (it might be winter, but it's Monaco, so it's still hot and he's still only a man with sweaty temples), but at least he's recovered enough to stand straight, wiping salt-water hands off on vivid blue shorts before offering one to Tykel in greeting. "Good to see you again, Seastone-born," impish nose-wrinkle, "Though if I'm not mistaken, I'd say weyr life suits you." It's hard to tell if it is that Tykel has filled out that B'an is referring to, or if it's just that general quiet, peaceful air, but regardless, it is an invitation as much as, "Tell me, how have you been faring since I saw you last? I hope the weyr isn't running you ragged." Literally. Seksicanth, meanwhile, tilts his head this way and that, observing Azure Flame's azurely-flameyness before raising his nose up to boop him just a little bit. Don't worry. He'll be gentle. "A business deal, eh? I'm all ears. What did you have in mind?"

Tykel clasps hands with B'an, a soft light in his eyes, an eager fire tightly restrained until the proper time. "I have been doing quite well thank you. Weyr life suits me indeed…I never would have guessed that things would come to this." He strokes his knot with one hand while Azure Flame reacts by backwinging once before closing back in again, chittering curiously. "As for business," the Candidate says, digging in a vest pocket for something. "It's not that difficult to manage for you, take only a few minutes and you'd be many marks better off. I'm acting on," he finds a piece of paper, neatly folded, "behalf of my brother Lomion. He wants to attend the Hatching and has authorized me to offer up to ten marks each way for transportation, so that would be a maximum of twenty."

"I am very glad to hear it," will come with a companionable clap to the shoulder if Tykel isn't careful, B'an the sort that is halfways generous with touch, if ever it's allowed. "I did notice that," said with a dip of his chin towards the white knot in question, "but I wanted you to tell me of it. What do they have you doing?" Tell him everything, that eager gleam in blue eyes says, energy lingering - perhaps even increasing - as Tykel removes paper from a pocket of his vest. Whatever B'an expected, it was not that! The big man blinks once, twice, rapidly a few more times, and then laughs, its warm rumble belying the gentle wistfullness that replaces his look of surprise. "Is it only your brother, or will there be more company besides? Seksicanth might be only a blue, but he is big." The dragon in question pauses his inspection of Azure Flame to strike a pose, wings wiggling in an boastful fashion as something the blue says makes B'an splutter. "His ego, especially." Slap goes B'an's palm on the dragon's leg, Seksicanth laughing that dragon-y growl-laugh again before sharing images with Tykel's firelizard, cartoony stick-figure images of the four of them surfing on a massive, curling wave.

Tykel chuckles softly, allowing the clap on the shoulder. "They have me doing everything from serving in the Dining Hall to preparing fish in the kitchens to mucking out runnerbeasts in the stable or they send me up to the resort to assist someplace there…you name it." He keeps the papers out. "Just Lomion. His Captain as already given him leave to go if it can be arranged. They're at sea now, he drew me a map to help. I know what the ship looks like, I've seen her when she was in port earlier this year, before I was Searched. An easy ship to find…vivid magenta sails with a diagonal white stripe, a big three-masted schooner, much bigger than my father's 'Treasury' with her name at the bow on both sides so it's easy to see, the "Pernese Vagabond'." Seksicanth's shared mental image has him chuckling again, a little louder this time.

"Ah, good old manual labor," B'an laughs, a playfully distant look in his eyes as he stares out and away. "I remember what that was like. Back when I had a brain all to myself, and no big blue lummoxes to try to share my last braincell with." Laughter increases with Seksicanth's indignant snort, the rider's eyes focusing back in on Tykel with a particularly crooked grin. "I hope you haven't had nanny duty yet, or that they're somewhat more well-mannered, if you have. I swapped many a terrible chore to avoid that at all costs." Clearly recovered, B'an extends his hand for the papers in question, humming and nodding at appropriate times as the what's and where's are detailed to him. "Of course. We would be happy to pick him up and definitely not attempt to wrap ourselves around the ship and drag it into the briny deeps," the bluerider adds significantly more firmly as that mental image transforms into stick-figure-Seksi diving into the wave and warping himself around a crude sailboat drawing like some kind of Lovecraftian horror. The image disappears like an eraser swiping a chalkboard, the dragon adopting a picture-perfect 'who me?' expression. "That certainly sounds unique enough that we shouldn't have much trouble. How soon will he need picked up?"

Tykel shakes his head. "Not had nanny duty yet and I hope I don't…I played nanny often enough with my younger brothers and sisters." He relaxes and hands over the papers. "I don't know when the Hatching is going to be but I know it's going to be soon. I'd say in a few days…I'll write him and let him know who's coming for him. He can just enjoy some shore leave until the Hatching…which means the resort is likely to run out of funnel cakes with the two of us assailing them. I have a horrible sweet tooth and Lomion's appetite is nearly limitless…he doesn't look much like me. Shorter and heavier, short tawny-yellow hair, close-cropped full beard and moustache, hazel eyes. It shouldn't be too hard to get him aboard…he's not the most agile of people but he can scramble around a ship's rigging. He's never ridden dragonback before so he may talk your ears off with questions."

B'an booms with laughter, fist extending to offer Tykel a knuckle-bump of commisseration. "One of my siblings was older than me, but I would swear that were not the case. I was the responsible child." And if you believe that, he's got a bridge in Nerat to sell you, that look says. "But good. Take it from me, friend, if you can avoid it, do. Some of them are probably still there, and they can smell weakness from miles away." He shudders comically as he unfolds and pages through papers, nodding faintly before the claim of the weyr running out of funnelcakes earns a sharp, barking laugh. "Faranth, but that would be a sight. Perhaps I'll join you," comes with a pat-a-pat of the stomach presently hidded behind his shirt. "They could do with a few less fried tubers as well, I'm sure." Wink. "But do write him. It is rather hard to miss a dragon like Seksicanth," what with the overbearing personality and milky-white eyes and all, "and… tell him it's free of charge." That comes a little quieter than the rest of his friendly bluster, the edges of his smile just a tad dimmer before he rallies again. "Oh, we don't mind questions, from him or anyone else. In fact if you have any, feel free to fire away." As for getting Lomion aboard, "If I can get a ninety-turn-old auntie up this beast's side, I'm sure a shiphand can more than manage." He is confident.

Tykel joins in the knuckle bumping, managing a narrow-lipped smile. "I'll write him tonight and send Azure Flame in the morning. Should I say you'll be coming in four or five days? I think that should be enough so he's not laid off from work too long. It's all that keeps him reasonably fit," he chuckles fondly. "We're exact opposites, he tends to gain weight and I tend to lose it," he chuckles again. Ah the variations of metabolsim. And the Candidate does have a question. "These robes we're supposed to make for the Hatching…do they have to have sleeves? I can't sew very well but I figure I can splice enough cloth together to cover my body well enough but sleeves are beyond my skill."

B'an's gaze narrows, lips pursing with thought, eyes moving as though picturing an invisible schedule before he nods, slowly at first, and then with a more decisive fervor. "Yes, four or five days should be more than possible. I am not overfamiliar with this stretch of water," a tap of the papers, "but I believe I know a rider who is. If he can provide us images for betweening, we should be good as gold." Teeth flash in a wide grin. "A struggle I know only too well. Seksicanth is all that comes between me and an uncle's pot belly, some days. He works me hard, but I deserve it." The dragon receives a fond pat. As for that question, "Faranth. You've been on the sands, have you not? Can you imagine wearing a garment with sleeves for possibly-hours, while confused young dragons cavort about you? You'd sweat it sheer in minutes, and while you might have a sweetheart that would enjoy such a thing…" B'an laughs to take the edge off the teasing, head shaking gently. "Sorry, I only jest. But no, to answer your question, you need not. You need only your wits, some sandals, and a very fine rendition of a tuber sack."

Tykel nods and offers another of his rare narrow-lipped smiles. "Excellent! Lomion tried to plot the course the ship was taking for the next few days on that map but who knows how the winds have changed since he wrote? Thankfully there have been no serious storms. "It is hot on the Sands and I've heard it gets hotter than ever on Hatching days and I can manage that, though I might need a couple of tuber sacks," he chuckles wryly, eyeing his long limbs. "But I'll make do with something. Jury-rigging was a skill I was taught early on…work with what you have, don't worry about the things you don't have, they'll take care of themselves."

B'an grins in response, shoulders lifting in a shrug. "If it seems troublesome, perhaps I will call upon a friend. Eight eyes are better than two. Leave it to us." There goes another shoulder-clap, but hopefully it will be Tykel's last - for today, at least. Though the bluerider's attention remains riveted on the artist-turned-candidate, Seksicanth's attention has wondered as it is wont to do, the big blue beast prowling away with a familiar air of mischief about him. "Or," he drawls, voice laced with more than ample humor, "you could ask if stores has spare robes from previous turns." IT'S JUST AN IDEA, says his shrug, palms lifting in the air. "Far be it from me to keep you from your quest to seek the best tuber sacks in Monaco, though. If anyone could pull off the look, it is you. Wise words, though. I hope they carry you through the coming days." Though he means them, the words trail away slowly as B'an realizes his dragon is long gone, a squeal from a long way's down the beach eliciting a low groan and a drop of his head backwards to stare at the sky. "Alas, that beast of mine is bent on causing trouble today. Ah, well. Take care of yourself, Tykel! We will see you again soon!" And off he goes, a friendly wave offered in his wake.

Tykel returns the wave, thinking on B'an's words and tucking them away for future review and reference. Then he turns to resume his jog…more leisurely than before.


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