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Monaco Bay Weyr - Weyrling Beach
The mouth of the paradise river is broad, the water sluggish, as it finally reaches the sea. Though the far shore is relatively wild, with trees marching nearly up to the sandy banks, the near shore has been cleared and tamed. Stands of rushes dot the bank, interspersed with low shrubs and dune-crawlers. The bank itself is gently sloped, with a well-lit stone path running the length between the lazy river and the great stone dome of the Weyr's caverns. There are several places where the bank has been scooped away altogether, presumably by draconic means given the regular shapes, to form shallow pools of warm, brackish water. One of these, nearest the exit from the weyrling barracks, has been roped off for use solely by young dragons and their new riders. There's even a lifeguard stand built up to allow a weyrlingmaster to keep a careful eye on the draconic playground, and a mesh net erected across the mouth of the pool's inlet to keep most things from being accidentally swept out to sea.


A lazy winter afternoon in Monaco Bay Weyr. Down on the Weyrling beach T'kel is sitting by his big bronze and both are taking advantage of the sunlight to dry off. And T'kel is taking the opprotunity to have lunch. He's got a large basket filled with glazed donuts, sugary croissants and sweetrolls at his side and he's munching on a donut ravenously. Apparently he's decided to load up on the carbs and sweet in an effort to keep his weight up or even regain the few pounds that he's lost working with his dragon. Szikrath looks to be asleep but his eyes are slit open, glowing a serene emerald, wings outstretched to dry the great sails and his muzzle easily within his lifemate's reach.

IT'S A BIRD! IT'S A PLANE! Just kidding, it's SEKSICANTH, that daring, dastardly blue! One might wonder just who allowed him to come in for a landing upon the stretch of beach roped off for weyrlings (maybe he bribed somebody, perhaps he and Zychaelth are tight), but no matter the why, he's here now, his rider in tow. Dressed as a dragonrider should, for once, in leathers cut and stitched so even his profound form looks regulation-smart, the blueie dumps fogged goggles into his helmet, tucking the latter under his arm as he approaches Tykel - now T'kel - with a crisp salute. "Salutations, bronzerider," is offered as greetings, characteristic booming laughter preceding, "well, bronzerider-to-be. How fare you this day?" If he's apologetic for interrupting T'kel's meal, he does not show it, gloved hand clapping against Seksicanth's chest as the blue attempts to barrel closer to inspect the weyrling pair. "Is it alright to approach?" This he aims at Szrikath, attempting to judge the dragonet's disposition even as Seksi's rough tenor executes a throaty scoff. « Pur-lease. He's tiny, I can take him. » FOR NOW. Shh. It's fine. Nobody remind Seksi that this little dude will someday outgrow him. It'll be a surprise.

T'kel breaks out in a wide smile. "Mmmmmmmpfhhhhnnnnn!" is the garbled cry of delight through a mouthful of donut. He swallows, holding the rest of the donut as he rises smoothly to his feet. "B'an!" he tries again, his voice now a low and melodious tenor. No more boyish falsetto. "Shards is it good to see you! Yes come close…I've told Szikrath about all my friends." For a moment his eyes glaze over. "Yes, this is the pair I told you about, love. Seskicanth won't hurt you. He's mischevious, not malicious. There's a big difference." The bronze raises his head, eyes opening and emerald green, no hint of yellow, and T'kel's eyes clear with a blink. "I am really glad to see you, it's been so long. How are you both doing?" Tell him everything the earnest tones in that expressive voice seem to say.

It's all good, T'kel - B'an speaks Full Mouth-ese. "Hello to you, too," comes after muffled words but before the issuing of his name, amusement once again booming from within him. "I'm glad to see they're keeping you fed. Hopefully this isn't the first you're eating." A beat. "Or maybe it is." The bluerider gives a speculative squint towards the sky, as if trying to judge the time. "We've been halfways 'round the world today, frankly I don't have a clue as to the hour. Ah well." The perks of being a transport rider. Seksicanth noses past B'an the very second T'kel gives permission, big body dropping to almost boop noses with the young dragon. Almost, but not quite. « Ah, so you've discussed me. All good things, I hope. » He doesn't mean that. Seksicanth knows who he is, knows his role in society, but feigning innocence is a fine art, and he, an artist. It's B'an that snorts and snorts hard with a drawled, "Don't lie to the poor fellow on our behalf. Seksi is what he is, no more, no less." A shrug. "But likewise, I am glad to see you here, with him! I am sorry we could not make it sooner, but there is always much to do once the hatching is done. We cheered for you both," is hopefully consolation enough as B'an stoops next to his dragon's head to inspect Szrikath a little more closely. A moment passes, two, and then: "Are you happy?" It's a gentle question, spoken as though B'an already knows the answer, but it's important to him to ask.

Szikrath's green eyes take in the new pair, inspecting them keenly. T'kel's eyes glaze for just a moment. "Szikrath likes you both. Even Seskicanth." Then he turns his attention to older bluerider. "Not the first. I've actually eaten twice before this. Learning to take smaller, more frequent meals in a day when I can…and Szikrath's schedule usually makes that possible. The kitchens don't seem to mind either. I am very happy and so is Szikrath. I almost thought I was going to be left standing…and then he found me." Happiness seems to exude from his very pores. "It was indescribable. And the past…it means nothing to me now. Somehow…it no longer matters. Today is what matters. The future is what matters. And I am very happy."

B'an's laughter is quieter this time, a few short huffs before he says, "Give it time. Let us know when that opinion alters." KIDDING. He's kidding, and even says so with a low, "I jest. Our thanks, small one. We look fowards to your growth." Seksicanth, especially, whose cartoonish doodle-ridden mind shows stick figures of he and Szrikath frolicking through a field of flowers. Or maybe those are cheerfully painted Day of the Dead-style skulls. It's hard to tell with him, and B'an is too preoccupied to attempt to clarify. "Ah, good, I am glad they are willing to see to your needs. I remember quite a few touch-and-go food grabs myself," he says with a grin. "Smidge - Marella, but she goes by Smidge - is especially soft on weyrlings. She'll sneak you extra if you ask nice." Tricks of the trade, delivered with a wink as the rider pushes back to his feet with a grunt of effort. "Yes, he did rather make you wait, didn't he. And the pollens… what a spectacle, not even truly knowing what was what until it was through. Not that it matters in the end, I suppose - a dragon is a dragon no matter their skin - but." That mirthful expression dims into something softer, quieter for T'kel's assurances, chin dipping in a series of nods that implies he understands. "It is strange, how dragons will do that for a man. Make what he was irrelevant to what he has become. I am glad for you, my friend."

T'kel stores away the information in his brain and then has a warm, open smile for B'an. "And I am glad to have you for a friend, B'an," he says firmly, gently. "I find myself looking to my rider friends for mentoring now. The AWLMs seem to be good people but I barely know them. Especially A'she. He probably knows me only as a face and a name. I try to lay low and stay out of trouble, just do the best job I can looking after Szikranth and listen to the lessons they have for us. But it is good now, the future is anything I…we…want it to be. The only problem I'm having is my cot is too short in the barracks. But I spend most of my time sleeping with Szikrath so it's not too much of a problem…unless I want to just lie quietly somewhere and rest, not sleep."

"I am pleased!" And he is. B'an might be a simple man, but he enjoys being enjoyed as much as anyone. "And the same is true for us. We are lucky to know good people," is expressed as a firm belief, gloved palm slapping Seksicanth's side to include his dragon in the conversation. "That will change," noted of weyrlingstaff being general strangers, "but I hope you will find that they are good people. Suyi, Zychaelth's rider, is a kindred spirit of ours." Seksicanth certainly perks for the name, but his attention continues on beyond his rider, big head swinging towards the weyr proper. "All excellent aspirations. Don't forget to mix a little fun in there, though. Perhaps not a weyr rampage or anything, but there is room to enjoy yourself whilst still keeping your nose clean, I hope." His pointer finger side-swipes his own nose, grin bright even as he nods. "There is much to learn though. You will do well, I know it." There is a rolling laugh for T'kel's cot running too short, empathy shared between them - B'an, with his bunyanesque stature, faced similar challenges. "Ah, a struggle I know well. I wish you luck - should you find an elegant solution, please share it, that future generations might flourish. I wonder if the weyr simply assumes they will not collect sons and daughters of our size…" Ah well, his shrug says as he finally tunes in to whatever his dragon is sharing, in privacy this time. "Well, it seems we are being summoned. Is there anything I can do for you, my friend? If not, I'm afraid I must take my leave."

T'kel smiles. "Just a pat on the back and a promise I'll see you again soon and I will keep you no longer. It has been so good to see you!" T'kel, inviting backslaps? Normally he's not the touchy type. He must consider B'an a good friend!

Welp. Bless T'kel's little heart. He asks and so he receives. "The pat I can do," accompanies a solid clap of hand to the back of his shoulder, grin wide. "The return visit depends entirely on the whims of my superiors, but trust, if there is time and you are wakeful, we will make ourselves known. Until then, friend T'kel." This time it's a jaunty, piss-poor excuse for a salute, fingers chucking themselves away from his temple as he hooks fingers around Seksi's straps and heaves himself up just enough that he can secure himself against the dragon's side for a trot into the weyr. Because sometimes crawling up your whole dragon is too much like work.


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