Shouting to the Sea

Xanadu Weyr - Docks
The main dock of Xanadu Weyr has a T shape, the central pier extending out and then splitting into two branches. That central dock extends slightly past the branching, making a square often used as a staging area for supplies or simply as a spot to sit and relax.
Pointed away from the main beach, there's the dock where ships moor. The fishing vessels who make their home here are joined by trading ships and the occasional personal craft, bobbing on the waves.
In the other direction, there's an area used by the dolphineers. There's a shack with supplies, extra fins and breathing gear hung against the outside, and a large raft moored to the dock near a ladder. It floats low in the water, easy to clamber on or off, and on it is a Dolphin Bell, the rope dangling into the water to let the dolphins summon their crafters.

GUESS WHOOOOOOOOOOO? It's Risali and Leirith, of course, and you might wonder why the pair are out on the dock - or you might not. Fact: Risali and Leirith are both there, though Leirith is more out-to-sea and Risali is more on-the-dock but it's a bit reminiscent of a time before, when one extremely boisterous weyrwoman and her even louder lifemate were singing, and dancing, and carrying on much to the confusion and chagrin of a certain band of pirate-sailors. Now Risali is back at it again, wearing her leathers as if she means to take flight with her hair up and a bottle of rum hugged close to her chest. And she is singing - or, well, she's mixing between singing and hurling insults at the water. It's probably ill advised, given the powers that lie in wait beneath today's (or rather, tonight's) calm, but the weather is turning, Rukbat's bleeding different colors into the water to herald the onset of Autumn as she sinks below the horizon, and soon the water will start to freeze. Anyway, what powers does the sea truly hold over one that was born to have wings? And so Risali drinks, and she sings, and she yells things that might not make sense to anybody but her - and Leirith - while sitting on the edge of the dock with her feet over the side. "SO TAKE THAT!" That thrumming beat of Leirith's mind is probably an open invitation; the question is whether or not anybody will heed it or run far, far away from star-ridden hide.

Once he as a dragonet touched the water, land was all but forsaken. Then, once cannon-holed sails touched the grander sea of the sky, only ambition (and eventually exhaustion) bringing the accursed beast back to shore. And there be he, Zyddagath, upon the white sands of Xanadu's beach. Wickedly clawed paws set just far enough that waves lap over cruel digits. The night's muted light whispers of the extra sheen on him, the oil seeping 'tween each curve of rotten hide, and o'er each patch of corroded bronze gives hint of fresh oiing, of work, adventures, exploring, trouble in theory wrapping up for the day that has somewhat long-since waned. Ki'lian is ahead of Zyddagath, his gaze forwards but lost, distant, distracted. The night itself shades his expression from what exactly that draconic conversation, or perhaps just Presence makes of it. Flying clothes have been left behind for the sake of his outfit of old. This, too, echoing the memory which Risali's singing brings back, as if flipping to one of his many sketches in that journal he keeps with immaculate routine. Too-light eyes with an abyss of them much deeper than some turn ago, turn upwards at the …singing. Yelling. Unlike the probably confused terror that was quietly screaming in the man's mind when he first met Risali doing such things then, now, a brow rises and he sighs. Whatever concentration he'd had is gone, broken by the quirk of an lopsided faint grin on that roguish face, accented by the dissheveled pieces of hair that fall over his forehead. "Tsk." The sound comes hushed, but obvious against the otherwise quiet of the docks, against the wet sound of water licking against the pillons that keep it in place, and the slushing of crafts tied to rest for the night undulating with the tides. "I hope that isn't to the sea." The yelling, that is. "She can hear you just fine." He'd stop right beside her, but doesn't quite sit yet, looking down at her- admiring the rum she's tucked so affectionately against her before studying her face.

A shadow passes, overhead and against draconic minds; the passage of Garouth, high in the skies. He's silent - as a dragon can be, against the winds, and unspeaking of any words as he flies out from lands to waters… then tucks his wings, an osprey-dive to skim the water and catch himself in its embrace. D'lei lags behind his dragon, but he follows - making his way along the shore toward the docks even as Garouth swims an arc toward the odd duck that is Leirith.

Has Risali been crying? Risali has been crying, and that fact becomes a touch more obvious when Ki'lian is there beside her as opposed to concentrating on things in the distance, leaving the weyrwoman to her own particularly special brand of crazy (or, in this case, proddy); still, Risali looks downright affronted to be the recipient of Ki'lian's well-meant warnings, those upset-reddened grey eyes jumping up to find the color of the sea with a momentary spark of fury as she hugs her rum EVEN CLOSER. "Don't look at my rum that way, and don't tell me what to do," she snaps, waspish until… until that expression shifts slightly up and into a smile, until a hiccup of a giggle escapes her and she sways just a little where she sits. It's hard to tell if it's because of too much drink or the gold beast lurking in the water, but she's probably a little too close to the edge for all that she's not-of-sound-mind. Still, she patpatpats one of Ki'lian's boots in an attempt to pat the dock beside her, an invitation for him to sit if ever there was one. "And I wasn't yelling at the water. I was yelling…" a gesture of her hand, as if to indicate some far away place or… "Just yelling." Sniff. "Who do you hate?" JOIN HER. Much like Garouth joins Leirith in the water, the gold's attention momentarily ensnared by Zydd who gets a rather shameless, « HOW MANY DRAGONS DOES IT TAKE TO MAKE BABIES? » before Garouth's descent pulls her gaze towards him. There's pure, unadulterated joy (though, let's be honest: when is there ever not?) when the bronze moves towards her, and Leirith waits, watches, lowers her head just so into the water before she takes a few bounding arcs herself to get away. But there's laughter in her mind, because of course this is a game to her. Of course it is. D'lei is, as of yet, unseen by human eyes - though, perhaps, not unacknowledged by dragons. Unless that wing-splash of water towards the shore was on accident. (Hint: it was definitely not an accident.)

The shipwrecked and risen bronze settles at a distance, keel set runashore on the white sands, where tiny rambling waves almost already lost of their energy run up against him, only to receed again. He is still once he comes to a rest. Too-still. As if even his breath- the only thing that reminds an observer that this beast is still ove the living- does not dare move him. The shameless question posed to him is afronted at first only by the disconcerting, ominous chill of his mindspace, dense in roiling grey-black fogs that obscure every hint of the black, black Stygian seas beneath. Then delayed does the drawl from Davy Jones' comes, watery, eerie. Cocky. « It is easier to show than to tell. » Faceted eyes upon sharp-angled haunted figurehead watch His and the goings-on of the dock, though D'lei is not missed. Where Zyddagath does not always bother to announce an arrival for entertainment of his own, this is one he does, in private. Acknowledged only by the fact that Ki'lian's study of Risali is turned away for a brief glance in that general direction. However, his boot gets patted. Already diluted amusement wanes a little in the presence of her tears, but not all so much. The lines of his face remain lightly skewed in that shadowy entertainment he'd arrived with. "I can't be jealous of your choice of companionship?" The rum, he means. He isn't seeking a particular answer, because he's sitting as he asks it with a quiet grunt of a noise, listening to what comes next and- "Who do I hate?" A huff of a breath could be meant to be a dark laugh, but it's a thin thing, "That too would be a long story, but there are a few. Why, love, who is it that you hate?" Is this a trick question? Because it feels like a trick question. And the way he's watching her has a hint of.. playful, roguish caution to it. At least there's a route of quick escape.

« Such poverty of words. » Garouth replies, with his own ripple of darkness - as if the shadows have become manifest, a thick liquid pulsing outward from his epicentre like a tsunami from the depths. « It takes one. » Calm, behind the wave-front, and the shimmer of starlight on the dancing waters. « She just needs to be badass enough. » As he speaks, Garouth pursues Leirith with an undulation of his own - a crocodilian sway though the water that moves him with the waves instead of splashing blithely (and joyously) through them as does Leirith. Leirith heeds no splashes! …well, except the ones she does on purpose, because she can't have D'lei going dry across the shores. He grins amidst the suspicious stray rain that just happens to non-accidentally fall on him, and lifts a hand to the sea before he keeps right on along the shore - and out along the dock, as well. It's like he's noticed something… or some ones, sitting and standing out there near the water's edge. D'lei doesn't speak, not yet, but his steps are audible on the wood of the dock as he draws near… as the words spoken are audible to him, one corner of his mouth quirked up slightly as he hears them.

EASIER TO SHOW IT? That burst of laughter from Leirith is not meant to be condescending; not in the slightest. « BUT WOULD YOU BE ABLE TO RUN LONG ENOUGH TO SHOW? » It's a valid question, and Garouth's answer comes, earning him more laughter as she gives sudden pause to that pseudo-chase and turns on the bronze, angled as if she might pounce (and blithely ignoring D'lei's greetings because his lifemate is being just the rudest) before stringing lights out meant to ensnare him mentally - for now. Zydd, too. Nobody is safe from those carnival lights, not even the humans on the docks, doing human things. « MY GAROUTH, I believe that was a challenge. » And she takes a leap, aiming for the bronze. YOU BROUGHT HER BADASSERY INTO QUESTION. And Ki'lian? Well… Ki'lian brings Risali's question back around on her, and there's a scrunch of her nose, another sway of that compact body, and then a long-suffering sigh. "Myself, mostly," she tells him honestly, though what that means doesn't get any elaboration; instead, the goldrider's attention is pulled by the sound of more feet on the dock, her shoulder knocking in against Ki'lian's as she turns to look over the other and - you would think there would be Leirith-levels of joy on her face at the sight of her weyrmate, but Risali's expression seems to only crumble more. It's kind of that situation where you're alright until something comforting comes along and then you're broken all over again. So Risali fights back more tears and looks determinedly away (which is not her refusing an invitation, it's her refusing her own STUPID EMOTIONS) as she takes another drink of the rum and then looks at Ki'lian. "Fine," she says, as if he's asked. And then she's holding out the bottle for him to take, pressing her body sideways into him in a bid to give D'lei more space on the other side of her. PATPATPATPAT. "Who do you hate, Dash?" Like he was there the whole time.

« Exactly enough. » Zyddagath's response grants no further explaination than that, the fog dense, coiling. Writhing. Here and there that befouled mist presses outwards, as if some incorporeal thing threatens to break through. Whispers of a thousand voices follow in the wake of Zyddagath's words, almost obscurring them completely as he trails off. Flecks of orange-red curve across those otherwise relatively calmed facets, immediate reflection of the joyous lights which invade against the Dark. However, it is telling that the Presence doesn't push back, doesn't envelope, doesn't Take. Despite the carnival glee, nefarious, arrogant amusement runs and in the undercurrents, « Aye, when the treasure be worth it, the horizon is never too far. » As if it wasn't obvious the pair weren't nearly cut from the same cloth, there is this. "Why might that be." Ki'lian's question arises as his low, gravel-touched hum now that he's much closer than towering above her. But then D'lei's bootsteps announce him as closer, closer. He doesn't move while Risali turns, only joining her when the Weyrleader is close enough that a shift of seablue gaze is all that's needed. "Sir." Eventoned, but distracted because he's rewarded in the moment by the bottle of favored alcohol being passed to him. Silver ring'd fingers curl around the neck of the bottle with the quiet, muffled clinks of metal on glass, but it's set on his thigh, out of the way of the threat of being bumped overboard (or over-deck, whatever). Rather than comment on it, that question which gets turned on D'lei happens to.. interest him as well, and attention lingers on the other bronzerider.

Garouth rumbles, a vibration that pulses through the water, that dances with amusement. « I see your confidence, dragon. » That's his answer to Zyddagath… but then he too is beneath the water, netted with lights that sink like stars into the sky as the bronze recedes beneath the waves in his answer to Leirith - a shadow driven to the depths by the bright sun pouncing over him. But what shall happen to the sun, there in the depths? What shadows will grapple with her, wrestling in a tumble that makes the sea seethe and churn. Garouth, the terror of the waves, is… nipping and nibbling and probably tickling, because that's just how awful he is. Seriously. THE WORST. And what's even worse than worst, he's being amused by it! Rather more so than D'lei is, really, though there's still a faint quirk to the rider's mouth as he sets himself down next to Risali, legs dangling over the edge. His gaze shifts to Ki'lian long enough to nod, acknowleding the salutation he's given… then back to Risali again, for she's a question to pose to him. "Hmm." He considers on it, a slight tilt of his head as his gaze seeks to the not-here, the not-now. "The drunkard, when he was my boss." A tug of his lips, more baring teeth than smiling, and then a wince of grim amusement. "And that fool who almost froze because he thought the moon and ice were fair."

« IF YOU WERE A FRUIT, YOU'D BE A FINE-FRUIT. » Leirith that's not… nevermind. Enjoy that, Zyddagath, because she absolutely did aim that at you, dodging and weaving around CRYPTIC MALE MESSAGES to be THE MOST BLUNT. And then she's drowning Garouth. Or maybe he's drowning her; it doesn't matter. The gold and the bronze are having a wrassle in the sea, nipping and rolling and making the water swell up JUST ENOUGH to lap at Risali's boots in one wave of protest (or fun). One more nip, one more twist of massive body that's not nearly fast or agile enough to keep up with Garouth's lesser bulk (but that doesn't stop her from trying), and then she's making a pretty pathetic show of trying to jump out of the water, all water-logged and dripping everywhere and really only making arcing leaps towards the shore. « SLOW POKES. » Take that, men dragons. CAN'T HANDLE THIS. Like Risali can't handle the question that Ki'lian poses, those grey eyes jumping back to him as it comes and she considers her answer; as she drops her gaze first to her hands, and then to the water as fingers slide to the deck on either side of her and Risali's shoulders come up, as if she might hide between them. "Does it matter?" Saved by D'lei, whom Risali's attention turns to when he settles and she listens. One, two, three, and one of those autumn chilled hands comes up to press against one of D'lei's cheeks, fingers sweeping over lips and cheeks while her eyes focus on those movements and maybe… maybe she shivers because she's proddy and touch is one of those things that she enjoys under Leirith's influence. "You were never a fool, idiot." Yeah. REAL SWEET THERE, RISA, but the tone is soft, and there's clear affection in the words issued, despite their acerbic nature. UNLESS, OF COURSE, YOU MEAN SOMEBODY ELSE. Because then Risa just has no idea. Still, she drops her hand, and turns her attention back to the sea, swinging her feet as she sways back and forth just enough to jar Ki'lian and D'lei as she bounces off one and into the other. Over and over and over again. Sniff. "I HOPE YOU STUB YOUR TOE EVERY MORNING! ALL OF YOU!" All the people that are hated, she means. "EXCEPT ME. I WOULD LIKE TO NOT STUB MY TOE." She's yelling at the water again. "PLEASE." A beat, and those eyes are on her rum. "Are you going to hog it, Ki'lian, because we are on a dock and I will push you in and D'lei will be a good weyrmate and pretend he didn't see the murder. Won't you, Dash?"

The lost souls are all that respond to Leirith's answer to him, the simplicity of the continuation of his active presence as unpleasant as it may be in that mindspace, the whispers growing in their din from beneath or within the mists. A near-but-distant murmuring of wails of forsaken cries that might as well be the rush of a final fall. A pale latern light from something far of dimly flickers then fades as if the vessel is lost too. Despite that confidence, this.. THIS just might be confusion. WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN. Zyddagath does not even glean the desire to argue that he isn't a fruit, as a matter of fact. Rather, he just watches. Watches the churn of the sea. Watches the mustard gold leap from its depths back to land. A curl of his lips on dark and oily hewn too-angular face is not a snarl. Oh, no. Not at all. Nor does it count as a grin, if dragons could even manage such things. But it does briefly bare terrible fang, and a chuff from the depths of his corroded throat. "Aye." Ki'lian manages to sneak that in before distraction might entirely save her from that answer. He takes a drink of Risali's rum, lifting the bottle to his lips as Risali counters D'lei's responses. It's a bit of a challenge, what with the bumping back and forth of her smol self. However, there are a few things he's very good at. And drinking rum despite rough seas certainly counts as a talent in his book. Once she's yelling again, he furrows his brow while the bottle is lowered- the look not of surprise. More.. distant. A pleasant but stifled grimace touches his devilish features while he watches her shout, then he turns his attention out to the sea as if to await the response she's owed. "A bloody fine curse on them all." The bottle lifts to relinquish it back into her care, "There wouldn't be a man left to tell." That is almost too foreboding before he adds to it, that edge of his grin lopsided, curled a hint more, "I've me bets on the both of you falling in with me."

And so, from the roiling depths, the mighty Leirith bounds to shore! …okay, so yes, there's a remarkable resemblance to a golden retriever with waterlogged fur and indomitable enthusiasm, but still. Someone's gotta keep things bright around here and make sure that all fruits of sea and sky are told just how fine they are! Garouth rumbles again, amusement as he recedes back and lets the undertow drag him out to sea… head above the waves to watch as Leirith charges forth, that crocodile waiting with reptilian patience and ancient amusement. Slow? He certainly is, except when he's fast! D'lei gives a crooked smile as Risali argues against his own cryptic utterances, and he reaches up to capture one of her hands in his own, fingers spread across it and then curling around. He's quiet a moment, then… grins. "Idiot, then." Definitely completely different, and to prove it, he'll just distract Risali by drawing that captured hand around to give it a kiss. There, see? His (her) logic is impeccable. The grin is transient, fading back to a wry thoughtfulness - though his hand lingers with Risali's, even as his gaze shifts out to the waves. A further quirk of his mouth. "…self-awareness," he adds, voice quieter than a shout and with a dark amusement to it. "May they know exactly who it is they are… and what they've done." His chin ducks, the smile a little fey as it lingers about his mouth and in his eyes as they focus out to… somewhere, somewhen. Some… rum? D'lei tilts his head, drawn back to the present. "The rum'd drown, though."

SEE? Total slowpokes, totally can't keep up with a majesty LIKE THIS. Maybe that's why, once she's on the shore, there's a pounce towards (on, if she's lucky) Zyddagath, and then the gold comes back around, lumbers her way down along the beach and then… SPLOOSH! Right back into the water. But by the humans, this time, so that they all get very Leirith-y wet. « YOUR CLOTHES ARE NOT SHOWING ENOUGH, MINION. » Duh. They are trying to impress people for baby making, obviously. Risali does little more than blank at the sudden dripdripdrip from her hair and… well… all the rest of her, really. It's probably for the best, because prior to that rude interruption, the rum was passed back her way, Risali was nodding he agreement of it being a good curse, and then D'lei went and flipped her entire world upside down with one innocent gesture. RUDE, D'LEI. STRAIGHT DISRESPECTFUL. There's a sound that catches in Risali's throat, something caught between want and need and inappropriate, bronzerider, this is the beach when captured hands get kisses. It's a small gesture, but somebody on this dock is riding the influence of a glowing gold, and - "Illegal," comes breathlessly, as Risali shifts to D'lei, as she brings her free hand up to shove against his mouth and leans back as far as she can. Right into poor Ki'lian. Bless you, Ki'lian. There's another shiver, another whimper, another twist of her body to look at Ki'lian like he just BURNED HER THROUGH HER CLOTHES (which, to be fair, he did (in her mind)), and then - LEIRITH. WAH-POW. Risali stares on intelligently, blinking and dripping and looking down at her now wet clothes before licking her lips and - "I…" Breathe, Risa. "I think you challenged me. Us." A glance towards D'lei. "You heard it, right? He challenged us." The rum is set slightly behind her. "Everybody knows that you should never threaten me with a good time." KIL. And so now, Risa is shifting to plant her feet against Kil, to lean back against D'lei, and PUSH! INTO THE WATER WITH YOU.

Zyddagath is no more lively over there than the shattered remains of a vessel long forgotten on a beach it had washed up an eternity ago, serving as a nightmarish reminder of the fate of those who trespass the sea… Or only really just throwing extra shadows 'neath the pale moonslight. Then there is Leirith. RIGHT THERE AND COMING RIGHT AT HIM. He does move then, animation infused into those gaunt limbs as talons curl into the soft sands to push himself up with probably more swiftness than he ought be able looking as dead as he was. The batoned down massive lengths of tattered blackened sails shift, splay, heavy sounds of leathery hide unfolding, one leaned awkardly against the beach for a second as bronze prepares for impact. Nothing constitutes this beast as playful, but nor does he embody defensive. No, not at all. He meets Leirith's pounce with a bound-dodge and… nip of his own. Maw and predigous fang to shoulder just before she's bounding away again. The fog, too, shifts, thinning, revealing the pitch of dreadfall waters, and the depraved greenish figments that surge just-beneath. Black Pearl'd head still lowered, another chuff, and he melts into the sea. Not quite at the same speed, so he isn't intending to keep up with her, but now the bronze has joined the other two toying with the depths, in no rush to reach the same distance from shore. Ki'lian, drenched, closes his eyes for a heartbeat's time, frozen in place for a second before the annoyance melts. Mostly. Sideglance leads to worlds being flipped upside down, and he brings his hand to his scruff-lined face to clear his throat. That, though, isn't annoyance. Just the same cryptic dark entertainment he seems to gleen from oh so many things. Then she's leaning into him, and he's looking down at her with curious expectation. Cocksure expression doesn't vary, schooled exactly enough to give away no more than that. A hand comes up to touch her shoulder, likely to brace her with how she's leaning, but who knows. "A shame all the treasures that end up in th'trenches, aye?" That, to D'lei's remark about the rum. BUT IT WOULD BE A TERRIBLE SHAME. "I would challenge you to a great many things. This was more a promise." That rumbled drawl of his assures, leaned close to Risali's ear to say it, though he's looking almost more at D'lei for the confirmation the goldrider is seeking. Risali moves. Ki'lian doesn't let go. He's pushed into the ocean. AND HE REALLY IS GOING TO TAKE HER WITH HIM. Because she's right there, and he did promise. Whether she's saved or not, he hits the water with a rather unfashionably large splash.

« He reminds me of a Weyrleader's dragon. » There's no tonality of emotion to Garouth's statement, just the colorless outline of shadows to express it… to Leirith, though he says it plain enough for Zyddagath to also hear his reaction to seeing the response of that dire darkness of depths-drowned dragon to Leirith's playful pounce and teasing chase. Garouth drifts through the water, taking a moment to arch himself and scrub with the side of talons against a spot of dirt - even if nobody but himself might know the difference against that brindled hide. D'lei smiles, wry and fey, and is his terrible self to Risali… and then is soaked by Leirith, because dripping certainly is… something potentially related to babies… and… "Heh." Ki'lian's look past to him is only given an arch of brows, but D'lei tucks an arm around Risali's waist, holding her as she shoves - and is pulled - and so is he, making hardly any effort at all to resist her sploosh into the water… or his, that follows it, as all three of them go to meet the fishes!

DID YOU JUST TALK INTO HER EAR, KI'LIAN? Probably a good thing, then, that it's her feet shoving him into the water - or maybe that's why. Either way. D'lei has hold of her hips, and there is a smug kind of confidence that accompanies the Wingrider's descent into the water right up until he gets a grip on her, and she squeaks, and D'lei doesn't resist the inertia of a forward pull. SPLOOSH. Into the water like their dragons, Leirith seeking out Garouth once more (and, perhaps, sending unnecessary upheavals of water Zydd's way) as Risali flounders for just a moment and then… lets herself sink. She's all hair and leathers and uncomfortable boots that will probably be ruined for their untimely meeting with watery depths, but it doesn't matter. Risali is grabbing tight to D'lei, using his arm to find his shoulders holding on because THEY DROWN TOGETHER, OR THEY SURVIVE TOGETHER. Either way, when they surface, Risali is swallowing down great gasps of air and then laughing, not yet bothering to attempt her way back to shore, but instead clinging to D'lei (without, of course, drowning him), and maybe giving him an underwater punch in the shoulder. "Traitor," she accuses around breaths, because she BELIEVES IN HIM (or rather, believes he could have stopped their water-y doom), and then she's looking for Ki'lian. So that she can splash him (and D'lei, shut up) with water. Amid more laughter. And a shiver. Because listen, some things don't just go away because they're having a questionably good time.

Fortunately, all those turns over the sea meant he did at some point learn to actually swim since all those layers of clothes he's wearing now are heavy soaken. Pre-soaken, really. He surfaces eventually, probably from deeper than he intended to go.. but he's faced more trialing seas before. Whatever shameless, dauntless selfishness he's earned to his name, there is undoubtably a brief search over the surface of the waters, waiting for the pair to appear. A hand uselessly rubs roughly over his face, but Ki'lian is no longer treading water. Rather, he's seated- on Zyddagath who surges up from beneath. Before he's lifted any more than that, arrogant, suave roguish man winks at Risali. Maybe D'lei too. That grin may have grown a few shades darker, but who knows! It is night afterall. That wrapped hand, its wrappings hanging off in waterlogged strands, combs back through his hair, sending smaller sprinkles back- though it by no means is tamed. The wink is all there is to him LEAVING THEM BOTH THERE TO THOSE FISHES. Sea and time worn bronze lifts his head from below, water falling in rivulets and rivers from above, tilting it down to look closer with just one faceted eye at the Weyrleading pair before turning back towards shore. Though he was made privvy to that statement of Garouth, there's only the distant whistle of something.. metallic beyond the whispers, beyond the nothing. A medallion dropped to the briny deep of his mind, sinking, sinking eternal leagues. Upside down and downside up to find World's End. The pair make it to shore at some point, venturing far to the distant reaches of the beach.

And so they all drowned: the end! …would be what happened in a different story. In this one, first Ki'lian surfaces - atop his seaworn dragon - and then Risali and D'lei do the same, bobbing up on their own because their dragons have other things to do. Save their riders? PFFT. Those riders can save themselves! It's probably all Leirith's fault anyhow, and anyhow, here they are - the Weyrleading pair bobbing in the waters just past the end of the dock, the abandoned bottle of rum sitting as a silent witness to their passing. D'lei keeps that arm around Risali, even as his legs - and the other arm - move to help prevent their drowning, and he grins slightly to her accusations of traitorhood, putting a kiss against wet hair before eyeing back the other bronzerider - and his dragon - before they depart. Garouth, deep in the waters, rumbles and dips his muzzle to blow up a small cloud of bubbles, then snaps after a fish. Maybe it was getting too close to his rider, or… maybe he was just hungry. Or it looked at him funny.

The Dragongrapevine may have alerted the weyr of Lani and Rosalyth's return a day or so before. Such time away on craft business, extra training and the like. Perhaps she will never be a master, but she is still dedicated to her craft. She intended to meet up with the Leaders before now to let them know of her return, but um…other reunions had to be had first! Rosalyth is seen flying from the direction of the forest though not so high she does not catch the sight of the 'drowning' humans and makes to land in the shallows and Lani leans from her perch atop the green, "All ok here?"
Can you squish a dragon as big as Garouth under the water? Leirith tries, when she finds her way back to him - full of compliments, as she is wont to do. « I BET YOUR WINGS WOULD CARRY US HIGH ENOUGH TO MAKE FIVE QUEENS. » EH. EHHHH? Is her charm working on you yet. But yes, the small and short of the set is that there is alcohol, one gold with a suspiciously star-rent hide, and the Weyrleader and the Weyrwoman in the water, Risali holding tight to D'lei as he treads water and those grey eyes follow towards Ki'lian and Zydd as they depart in style. Still, there was a kiss pressed against her hair, and Risali's blinking back to D'lei with one hand raised towards Ki'lian's departing path as if she means to say goodbye. "Stop doing that," comes a little breathlessly. AND HEY, there's no heat behind the command, and certainly no follow through of her own, because lips are finding D'lei's temple, and there's another shake of tiny body that might have devolved into MORE… if not for sweet, sweet Lani and her Rosalyth. Risali blinks once, twice, three times up to the greenrider and her lifemate and then… she parts with a hiccup of laughter that's bordering on hysterics. "That depends on your definition of okay." A beat, two, three, and then a slow smile. "But welcome home, Lani."

Garouth certainly squooshes down, with a burble of bubbles up to tickle up at Leirith's underside. Fortunately, dragons are very good at breath-holding compared to the smaller and squishier humans, so he probably won't be the one to drown here either. « Only because they will chase us. » Other draconic advantages: being able to talk back while being kinda-sorta-drowned. « They will want to join in… and then they will sit in a circle on the sands and make eggs with their claws. » Definitely realistic and plausible. This is just how it works… at least, when a sparkle-ground mustard Leirith is involved! D'lei laughs at Risali's demand, his head tilting back a bit as he ceases and desists his kissing… though not his warm, or the way his body moves against hers… and most definitely not his smile. There's a duck of his head as Lani lands and offers her concern, as if to hide that smile for a moment - though not very well. "She means," he adds on to Risali's words, "that we are glorious." A grin to Lani, and then a nod. "The water's still almost warm!" Autumn, the bane of swimmers everywhere (that has seasons like that).

Rosalyth gives a warble of greeting to the dragons and dipping her head slightly before lowering her haunches to let Lani dismount. The rider though looks down at the water and the two leaders and their comments of 'almost warm' and she gives Rosalyth's shoulder a pat and the green steps back a few paces till she is on land again before her rider dismounts. The response at least takes any urgency out of her approach, though she strides to the end of the dock to look down at them all the same. "You are welcome Ma'am. I hope to return to the roster as soon as I may…I had meant to stop by your office.." But here we are. Of course. She looks down to the water and back up to the Weyrleader's face and shakes her head, "I think I will swim another day, I did not bring my wetsuit with me."

« They can try. » They will probably fail; it's not exactly a secret that Xanadu's queen has a time-honored favorite. ONE SHE IS, CURRENTLY, ATTEMPTING TO DROWN. Still, that booming thrum of bass and house party beat push towards Rosalyth, invite the green in on those pathways as joy and excitement and proddy gold bleed out in greeting. « YOU LOOK VERY FLYABLE, MY ROSALYTH. » Leirith would probably be giving finger guns if, you know, she had fingers. And knew what guns were. BUT, all of that is not nearly as important as the interactions between humans. Things we have so far established: D'lei is the worst. Just that. And if Risali's face is flush, the weyrwoman is assuredly into her drinks (that rum there, on the dock) and not at all into D'lei. (BADUM, TSH except JK because she's totes into Dash.) "Who needs a wetsuit?" Risali manages to find her voice and offer up that, her grip on D'lei tightening, probably because she's trying to put him in a chokehold without looking suspicious because it's FOR THE GOOD OF HER SANITY. "And that's all up to D'lei. And… and your Wingleader. But I'll make sure everything is in order for you otherwise." You know. Housing and… all those things that Weyrwomen do with their time. Shiver. WHAT? She's cold.
« They will. » So many attempts, and trying is a good thing! …it does not, however, guarantee success. Which doesn't mean that Garouth - and Leirith - won't encourage it, but still. If he can survive her drowning - and curl his tail up around it to spatter-spitter-bump against his back - he can probably do a great deal else! Garouth rumbles amusement as Leirith greets Rosalyth, another burble of bubbles up against the gold from beneath, and he sends out a flutter of autumn leaves to greet the green with his thoughts. D'lei laughs, bobbing downward in the water as Risali grapples at him and tries to murder him unsuspiciously. "Did you - ah…" He's paying attention, Lani, really! (Mostly.) "- are you going back to the same wing? Or…" It's been a while, after all. Maybe minds have changed! Or maybe he just can't remember - he is a little distracted at the moment.

Rosalyth strides back into the water as the rider who wishes to stay dry is no longer upon her. «The Fortion dragons were not up to my standard, it will be glad to test the heat of the local princes once more.» She replies. Poor lass stuck up at healer hall in the cold and rigid surrounds of Fort. Well at least as far as she was concerned. «The water is ice up there, this is delightful.» Well relatively at least. Lani stuffs hands into her pockets as she looks between the pair of humans, not to be goaded into being pulled in like once mudbath before. "Sephany has been keeping my weyr up…and well yes, sir, I would like to return to search and rescue. I am hoping I can put my extra studies to good use there. We are eager to return to the roster and patrol." She advises a bit more formally then they are her…but well that was always Lani's way.

« They will probably fail. » Leirith intones, laughter and joy and… a hint of honesty in those carnivaled-dancer depths. So many feathers, and masks, and elegantly dressed bodies that… do not translate over to Rosalyth; rather, the green merely gets that skull-rending continuity of bass and drums. « THEY WERE CLEARLY NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU. WE HAVE MANY BADASSES HERE IN XANADU. MANY. » "Was she?" Risali offers up, perhaps a little hazy and faraway in her answer - mostly because she's not-quite-there to begin with, and also because she is, in fact, attempting to murder the Weyr's highly esteemed weyrleader. "Search and rescue is good. And you get to keep the wetsuits." HAPPY SMILE. But just like that, Risali's teeth come down on the tip of D'lei's ear, a gentle pressure that's not meant to maim or harm, another squeeze, and then she's letting go of the bronzerider, using him to push away back towards the dock, back towards Lani, back towards SOME KIND OF SANITY as she pulls herself back up and… shivers, tucking in against herself, dripping so much water from her riding leathers that were probably keeping her warm right up until they got soaked through. "Do you need a day or two to settle back in before you pick up your d-duties again?"

When the time comes, Garouth will rise to the challenge! But for now… he'll drown, or not. He dips and ducks, slipping out from underneath Leirith with a twist and then curving up to surface beside her. « There is always a warmer, and a cooler. » He speaks with a temperate breeze between draconic minds, somewhere in between hot and cold, that indeterminate place of temperature that all depends on perspective. « There will always be those who chase… but you will have to find the ones you desire to succeed. » There's fondness to his moderation, one that stirs to Leirith and Rosalyth alike. « Fort knows winter so well, it does not forget that chill even in the midst of summer. » Especially when you need to between in order to get there in the first place! D'lei nods to Lani - and then is shoved underneath the water for a moment, coming up again to a sputter and a nip that makes him laugh and give Risali a shove even as she lets him go to make her escape. "…right." Where was he? The Weyrleader looks back to Lani, and grins. "We'll be glad to have you back." And then he starts his own way back to shore, though he at least gives Risa a bit of room to breathe.

Rosalyth's voice is perhaps more delicate than her dams, but she can't help but pick up on the passion of the glowing gold hide, «Indeed. They were not good enough for us. As if I could pull her from her books long enough to do a proper inspection anyway.» Lani looks over to her dragon, her dark skin darkening all the more for the dragon's candor. A deep breath and she looks quickly back to the weyr woman who is pulling herself out of the water. "Yes Ma'am…we are" Seeing the weyrwoman a shivering she pulls off her own jacket and finally approaches the woman holding it out to her, "This may help, but best get out of the wet clothes and near a hearth to warm up.." Healer strikes again. "Yes ma'am…once I am caught up on the current reports of the area." She dips her head to the weyrleader, "I am glad to be back sir, I have missed it greatly."

Leirith doesn't fight him, she lets Garouth go, and when he comes up alongside her, those whirling eyes lid partially and she bunts the brindle-hided bronze even as he bespeaks herself and one of their badass progeny. Risali is PUSHED!… and she laughs, but it doesn't change the outcome. She pulls herself up, she shivers, she nods agreement to D'lei's words of welcome, and then she blinks up at Lani. "You hesitated." A shift, and a tilt of her head, lips parting and then closing again before brows raise but… she doesn't question it. MAYBE THEY ARE JUST FRIENDS. Maybe Lani was sidetracked by ridiculous antics or conversations with dragons; Risali can't say and she won't say. Instead she's looking long at the proffered jacket and hesitating. "But won't you be cold?" She still sounds like she's not truly focused, and that's because she's not. But she blinkblinkblinks again when there's mention of getting out of wet clothes and near a hearth and… yeah, okay. This is a terrible idea. BUT HERE WE ARE. And yes, Risali is shrugging out of her own wet jacket, unlacing waterlogged boots (and dumping more water out of them) and she JUST KEEPS GOING. Leathers are unzipped, hips shimmy to get them down her legs, and then THERE GOES HER SHIRT, dropped with a wet PLOP in the pile of all the rest of her wet stuff. Don't worry, she's not naked beneath all of that, but she's shivering as she pulls on Lani's jacket anyway, letting her hair down to ring out the water. "There." Worst… and still shivering. Leirith? Also the worst. « IT IS OKAY. Mine frequently only stares at Garouth's and Zekath's, but Garouth is right. In order to want to look, there has to be somebody worth looking at. AND THE BETTER AT MAKING BABIES, THE BETTER. » BOOMBOOMBOOM. Affection and… well. Leirith. Being Leirith.

As she is called up by Risali Lani blinks for a moment, "We are just…" Ok not friends. "It's new." She says simply. "Well was new, and new again." Cough. "I will be fine ma'am, I was just heading in to check in with the Healer and I am sure there is a hearth going there." At least for her the disrobing doesn't bother, she is a healer after all and she did just advise it. "I should get on to it, I can pick up the jacket later." She dips her head in respect to Risali, then D'lei. "I will report in to the office later properly." And with that she leaves the pair.

Ask D'lei no questions, and… well, that would be a strange day indeed for a Weyrleader. "I'm sure Galaxy will be glad to find out all you learned while you were away, though!" he tells Lani, then hehs as Risali strips and steals that (offered) coat. "And we'll get you your jacket back when you do," he says to the plan for that office report. "If not before, but… I suspect you'll make good time." She seems eager to get back to her job, after all! Garouth rumbles amusement. « It is important to be aware of your surroundings… and also your surrounders. » For whatever purpose they may be doing that! D'lei waves to Lani, then leans down to pick up Risa's discarded clothing. "Come on, then. Let's go make the puppy give you dirty looks for getting her wet." And also get warmed up by the fire in their weyr, but shhh.

Risali misses a beat, maybe even five, but… "I do have on too many clothes," she informs D'lei, as if the opposite wasn't at all true. Leirith laughs as she rises, as she moves from sea to shore, as she trails water in her wake as that massive head tilts to watch their riders and then turns back to the bronze. « Unfortunate that they are not paying enough attention, » Leirith intones, as those blue eyes start to bleed red, and… yep. Risali parts with a curse-word infraction because Leirith's snapping out her sails and starting up a heady beat that means she isn't just telling Garouth to, « Run. » And, well. Let's just say they probably won't make it back to the puppy tonight. Or their weyr. But they will, perhaps, get warmed up by some kind of fire.

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