Nice Going!

Xanadu Weyr – Clearing

A wide clearing stretches from east to west, the ground packed hard although grass grows across most of it. Trees are strictly forbidden in this space, their danger to the constant draconic traffic reason enough to banish them to the forest that creates a this and sharp border to the north. Where the ground is less trampled, tiny flowers poke their delicate heads out from their shaded hiding places with upturned petals to wave to whoever may be looking.
The cliff looms imposingly on three sides, stretching upwards all the way up the side of the mountain where, high above, Xanadu's Star Stones and the ever present watchdragon sit on a lonely peak. Directly south is a massive tunnel, fully wide enough for even the largest dragon to fly down. Southeast are wide steps leading up to the Caverns and eastwards is the large entrance to the Infirmary. Somewhat north of the Infirmary is a human sized archway that has a frequent quantity of traffic — it leads to the Tavern. Southwest lies the low ledges currently belonging to Xanadu's queens while north and west a broad path cut by the side of the cliff leads to the Feeding Grounds and due north is the spacious trail that leads to the rest of the Weyr.

Morning sees the spring sun rising over the still dew-sparkled grass of the clearing. The sky is cloudless deep blue, it's cool right now but warming up. All things considered, it promises to be a fine day. Try telling Darsce that! She's stalking through the clearing on a collision course for the caverns and some klah, by the looks of it. While her attire is impeccable, blonde hair falls in a shining curtain of flaxen, just-brushed perfection, she's barely awake - and looks as though she's less than thrilled about it.

Morning usually means a good run and a long workout for the brownrider. Ers'lan is in fact, just walking back into the clearing with a towel around his neck, sweat beading down his face, while his tank practically clings to him because of the dampness. He's wearing sweats, still too chilly at times to really put on the shorts just yet. But the attire suggests he's just returning from his routine, also heading for the caverns to seek food and klah. He's walking with just enough speed that he should be rubbing shoulders (not literally) with Darsce as they both manage for the entrance to the caverns at the same time.

Ewww! Sweat… and damp clothes. Darsce spots that a mile away big guy. She's not going to get any closer than she has to, either. In fact, she sort of skids to a stop a few feet shy of the entrance just to give him plenty of room to precede her in. She half turns to loiter in the clearing, flumping against the rock wall as if preoccupied with some inner contemplation while giving the brownrider her best faked smile (sorry but her real one doesn't come out until noon) and a polite gesture as a sort of hello-goodbye. She says not a word because she's holding her breath. Sweat. Guys. Yeaah.

To keep in the shape he is in, he -has- to work up a sweat. With it being so early, it's better now than when the cavern fills up to make his way to the baths. His routine minimizes the impact on the rest of the Weyr. How fortunate that Darsce is up early enough to experience the sweaty-sticky hotness that is Lan. It is the skidding stop that has him consider the young woman with a bit of a questioning and accusing brow. Not good enough? Well, there's no hiding from him now. He actually hesitates on going in when she gives him that faked smile, tilting his head to the side as he saunters on over toward her. "Early riser this morn, I see…" he dabs the sweat from his brow with his towel, idly wondering how long she'll hold her breath - half smirk on his lips.

Yes, well, the sweaty-sticky has Darsce looking a touch nauseated, though she might not argue with hotness. It's not a question of not good enough but at the moment the prissy Iernean is overwhelmed by squeamish and sleep-deprivation at the same time. And then he's turning around? Damn! Still holding her breath, she gives the approaching Ers'lan another feeble wave, her hand shooing him on towards those baths. Don't let her keep you! She's getting dizzy here. Iceblue eyes meet his observation mutely. Does that require an answer? Her ivory complexion is slowly turning red with the breath-holding thing and she sidles a little further out into the clearing where the breeze might be more prevalent before daring to try inhaling. "Not by choice," she mutters finally about rising early, her voice so eloquently showing her annoyance as she shares, "The headwoman is fumigating." They can all thank the Weyrleader and his fancy safety procedures for that.

"So early?" D'had inquires about the headwoman's doings as his path across the clearing brings him nearer his daughter and the brownrider. "Not," he goes on to add, the comment directed clearly towards the blonde, "that it's going to hurt you to be up before noon." There's a nod to Ers'lan, a silent hello to go with that wary look he spares the rider. Didn't he already warn this one about the girl.

"Fumigatin?" The former sailor arches a brow at that word, though he questions it in a way that might imply he is curious about a further explanation rather than just being stupid. He completely ignores the fact that she's getting sick over the sight of his sweaty-stickiness and in fact, when she steps into the breezy air, he takes a step to follow her - on purpose. The baths can wait, apparently! It's at this point that Zhaoth sails in from above, wings snapping hard against the air as he backwings himself down toward the clearing, back legs stretching down to the earth first and followed neatly by his forepaws. Lan's eyes briefly flicker away from Darsce to acknowledge his lifemate settling in, wings releasing their final gusts of air so that he can settle them into his side. Then there is D'had again! It's like one cannot go without the other. Ers'lan doesn't do anything foolish, save for nod his head in return. The bluerider was Weyrsecond again, afterall.

"She says it's not early," Darsce grumps just a tiny bit toward her approaching father although there's a glimmer of a smile in welcome for him. Until he's not being what she deems appropriately sympathetic to her plight, then her expression clouds. "It's killing me," she assures her father with a sulky pout. Yeah, that ought to look familiar to him. But then there's… a brownrider tailgating her? She gives him a bit of a puzzled look. Didn't she just dismiss him? She doesn't go so far as to ask him why he's still here then, instead just nods. "She said Xe'ter is preventing infestations." Here she huffs a bit and rolls her eyes. Forgive her folks. She hasn't had her klah yet.

"Ain't gonna hurt ya this once," D'had repeats, turning a glance towards the arriving dragon to take note of who's it is. Does it matter that she's not going to be happy with him not agreeing with her? Not really. That's what parents are for. One of their jobs anyway. "I've got some paperwork ta do this mornin'," he comments, clearly his least favorite part of the Weyrsecond job, "but we'll get lunch, hmm?"

Of course the brownrider was still there, trying to be nice or something right? Pretend interest? Annoy the heck out of her? Something like that. The answer on why Xe'ter is fumigating has Lan reconsider his intention toward the caverns, brow lifting. However as Zhaoth stalks closer, the brownrider swings his blue gaze back toward the beastie, then toward the father daughter duo. He lingers, as if anticipating D'had leaving for that paperwork.

But Darsce still loves her daddy in spite of - or maybe because of it. She's too old to put on the act of clutching her stomach, falling to the ground and declaring she is dying from lack of sleep but for a moment D'had might see the temptation to give in to her former ruse, not that it worked all that great when she was a kid either, but it sure was fun trying! As for the paperwork, she wrinkles her nose in sympathy. "Have fun with that, Daddy Darling." Zhaoth’s landing and creeping closer doesn't phase her at all. Dragons come and go all the time and she's seen even busier traffic in Ierne. And the sweaty Ers'lan is STILL here drawing a twitch to her brows, which then lift - something remembered. "You're the guy with the harem, aren't you?" Tact, well. She uses it when it suits her.

D'had chuckles. There's no use pretending he'll enjoy that task, they're all adults here, besides which while he's more awake than his daughter this morning it is still relatively early. "I won't," he assures, "But come find me later." Someone needs to make sure he actually gets it done without raking his brain too hard. With that he sends a nod to each in turn, Darsce and Ers'lan, before turning to head on his way.

Yup, he's still there, shifting his gaze with a slight frown toward his lifemate and then back to Darsce when she acknowledges his presence there, but in the worst way possible. The man narrows his eyes some at her coined term for his weyrmates, his arms crossing over his chest as he grumbles, "Reckon I dun narh know whar ye be talkin bout." It was better for him to deny it than to try and correct her and thereby justify her use of the term. D'had gets a lingering glance and once the bluerider seems to be moving on with his business, Lan moves on with his. "I reckon I dun narh whar he be seein in ya, being D'had's daughter 'n all." As if that was -just- as bad as her using the term 'harem' for his family. "Yer pretty though, tis true…" absently spoken, "he be right bout that-" the /he/ not defined but likely Zhaoth since the rider looks that way.

"Okay I will, love you Daddy, bye!" Darsce blows the departing D'had a kiss, then flutters her fingers in goodbye. Back to Ers'lan she takes him literally, "Hmm? Oh! From the old storybooks, you know, men. Who collected a bunch of wives. Mates. Whatever. I hope you can afford them, that's all I'm saying." She shrugs her shoulders delicately and then, if he's going to loiter here, she's going inside, half turning to do so when his comment catches her ear. "He who?" Her glance follows his to the brown and her brows knit for a split second then the blonde smiles. "Aww, your dragon thinks I'm pretty? That's sweet. You tell him he's got good taste and he's a handsome fella too." She blows the brown a kiss then says, "Ta ta, enjoy your bath." Yes, she's hinting. Assuming. Or something.

D'had pauses mid-step, ready to turn back if need be to remind Ers'lan not to overstep his bounds with Darsce. He's not going after him just yet, but he is lingering nearby just incase. The mention of that 'he' causes the man to raise a brow as he looks back towards the small group, but then he just shakes his head for all of them.

Ers'lan doesn't look impressed when Darsce goes into the details of what she meant earlier by having a harem, shaking his head as he notes, "I be narh collectin 'em. I love 'em." There is a certain growl in his tone that suggests he would defend that in whatever way he had to. "At least I be responsible nuff ta keep 'em happy, instead of like the lot of fellas who jus go a few turns lovin 'em, have babies with 'em, 'n leave 'em." No longer a sailor who could up and leave broken hearts at every port, he actually sounds responsible. The subject matter dropped as his eyes slide back toward Zhaoth, smirking some, "Aye, he be good in his tastes sometimes." The brown gives a happy rumble to hear the compliment from Darsce, which makes Lan give a quiet chuckle. His chuckle abruptly ceases when Darsce starts to move off, Lan sharply noting in a tone that would command and has commanded since he took on the acting role as wingleader, "-Wait- …" as if to stall Darsce from going in, his eyes noting D'had but only briefly as he moves to step in front of Darsce's path, to keep her from going inside just yet, "Wait…" again, insisting. Zhaoth approaches closer, lowering his head so that his muzzle skims across the ground, his tail flopped there to drag as well, wings slouching down, just lingering there himself.

Darsce is surprised by the response from the brownrider regarding her defining the word harem, for she hadn't meant to sound judgmental. More like flippant. But she actually claps quietly, if a trifle condescendingly when he finishes. "Of course you do!" And she does smile then - her first of the day - a brilliantly saccharine one at that. Her eye skims his physic then, lingering on abs and shoulders, "Hey if you ever need some extra cash let me know. I could use a model for some of the clothes, I-“ She breaks off at that sharp command, her tone turning haughty, “Wait? Whyever for?" She does stop, if only so she won't bump into the sweaty Ers'lan. She's got her back to the brown now, leaning to peer around Ers'lan and her father's retreating form.

And just what does she want her daddy to do for her? D'had does back track when the brownrider stops Darsce however. He's had this discussion before - he thought he'd made himself clear on the matter anyway. "Don't you have somethin' better ta do than bother my girl?" At least there's some semblance of diplomacy this time instead of just fists flying.

Darsce has Ers'lan blinking in some confusion. His hand drawing up to pinch the bridge of his nose when she gives him that smile, certain conflictions going on internally for the squinting of his eye and the general exasperation for it. As his hand lowers, he puts both to the sides of his hips, tilting his head down at the start of an offer to make extra cash, a curious tilt, "Whar? Model?.." Ok call him oblivious to what she did for a living. He's not much into fashion. Yet, preventing her from going into the caverns seemed important, a reason he was nearly distracted from because of the girl's extra cash solution, that or the brown was creeping up on Dasrce enough to earn a scowl from Lan. "Reckon -he- be wantin ye ta stop-" he points over her shoulder and should she look back, Zhaoth's wide muzzle will be mere inches away, lips curling up slightly - dragonic smile? As for D'had, the bluerider gets a stern look from Lan, "Course I be havin somethin better ta do, though ya can tell Zhao ta leave off iffin it pleases ya. He wants -her- ta stand fer the clutch."

Nothing, just watching her Daddy Darling go! Habit from far earlier days perhaps? It's that or look at the rumpled, sticky-sweaty clothes on… yeahno. Her offended fashion sense aside, it's best not think about those muscles - the guy is owned by three or, if the Weyr-scuttle were to be believed, several women and is expecting a horde of babies any day. Darsce looks from brownrider to her turned-back father then back over her shoulder to spy Zhaoth right there behind her and blinks. Not frightened by any means, just surprised. When Ers'lan speaks again her head whips back with a short laugh of disbelief, "He what?" She blinks, peers back at the brown then turns back to the men "That's…." She's at a loss, stunned and she does not look at all flattered or pleased.

D'had snorts. Of course Ers'lan has something better to do. He known that was likely the case and that's why he asked the question. A reminder of sorts perhaps to get the brownrider moving on his way. Rumors aren't really his thing so that part of conversation goes right by him, he does know enough, clearly, to know that Lan isn't someone he wants hanging around any of his girls though. It's at his mention of Zhaoth however the Weyrsecond's scrutiny turns towards the dragon, though that last comment brings it right back to the rider. "What?" not nearly as shrill as his daughter's question of the comment, but the remark seems to catch him off guard as well and he stalks right back to where he left the pair. "An honor," he picks up on Darsce's hanging word, "If you want it. But ain't no one gonna look at you any different if ya say ya don't want to."

Ers'lan tilts his head back to Darsce at her short laugh of disbelief, which urges Lan to swat out his hand in gesture from where it was sitting on his hip, long enough to get his point across, "Aye. He be wantin ya ta stand, fer the eggs, fer a chance ta be like yer Daddy Darhlin-" oh yes, he uses that nickname with a tinge of mockery behind it and as per the curl of his lips he is amused by saying it, "Zhao be thinkin yer a good choice. Whar do ya think? Stand fer the bloke on the sands, fer Xanadu, fer a possible future, fer all that." Ok, this time D'had is ignored with a gesture of a lifted hand to silence him, as if to prompt that the bluerider to question period later. "Aye, iffin ya want a chance at life with one of 'em…" Oh and Zhaoth is right there to croon behind her, settling nice on his rump and acting like a good dragon, see.

Darsce's eyes swing back to her father and her still-open mouth utters the rest of it as emphatically as she meant to even while her shocked eyes catch his Weyrsecond's knot fluttering on his shoulder. "…ridiculous!" It comes out harshly while her eyes simultaneously tear up with frustration and regret at having said that in front of him. Her eyes are snapping icefire when they turn to Ers'lan though, perhaps it's got to do with that imperious hand gesture he's dared to stop her father's comments with. Both fists double and both go hard into his midsection without warning. It might take him off guard it might be little more than a v'tol landing on a rock wall to him but she's had a lesson or two from her father since that last goldflight and she does it correctly from the shoulders. She sobs, "I have a future!" and then takes off running - not into the caverns but away from it towards the forest. Which, knowing the girl, is as unusual as her tears. There are crawly-critters out there! But that's where she's going.

D'had blinks. That.. was not the reaction he was expecting from either of them. "Nice going," he snorts towards Ers'lan. Look what he went and did? "Baby," he calls after Darsce, exasperation evident in his voice as he calls after the young woman. No, her tears and choice of direction are not typical but at least he didn't have anything to do with it. He can blame it on a certain brownrider easily enough at least.

Ers'lan wasn't expecting that reaction, which means he didn't hold his stomach muscles tight to prevent from getting winded. He buckles forward into the hit, giving a small 'ooof' as she hits him and runs off. A hand holds to his gut as he stares incredulously after the girl and gives a 'what the hell did I do to deserve that' look to D'had. Clueless. Yes. Well, he said -possible- future, he didn't say the -only- future. The worst, is Zhaoth. The brown makes this eerie sound of dejection as the girl runs off, Lan having to immediately close the distance to put a comforting hand on his lifemate's muzzle, the other still holding the spot she hit, "Damn, reckon she be hittin harder than the last time. 'N ye jus could narh leave it alone, could ya?" Blame, blame the dragon. He isn't going to go chasing after either of them, "Crackdust… ow…" yes, he'll baby that spot for a time, as if rubbing would remove the throb of where her fists punched, but maybe it had something more to do with his ego and that of his dragon's ego being bruised. Sulk.

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