Xanadu Weyr - Beach
The unerring range of subdued white rises and falls in a multitude of sandy dunes, creating an endless amount of tiny valleys constantly demolished and rebuilt by the frequent arrival or departure of a dragon. Smoothing out as it slopes gently to the edge of the deep blue water, the sand darkens and a shell here and there stands out for children to collect. The beach itself is set along a low cliff - the height lessoning as one heads eastwards, blocking a portion of the beach from direct access.
The wide wide stretch of water opens up to the east, the far distant shore way beyond the horizon and the beach curves ever so slowly round to east and west, distant arms of land embracing the wind-ruffled Caspian Lake. East leads up to the mouth of the Rubicon River, where the protecting cliff is merely an arms length higher then the sand, and beyond that, a winding road leading out of Xanadu's territory. Westwards, the beach narrows as the cliff swings out, leaving a path wide enough for dragons in single file before cutting in to the sheltered cove designated the Weyrling Beach. However, cut in the cliff face to the north are a variety of rough, wide staircases, providing access to the clearing and to the meadow.
The warmth of the day still lingers, barely, now that the sun is lowering against the horizon. The temperature was on the boarder of being comfortable, though it was still tolerable without large jackets for protection. It was therefore a reason why one solo figure was upon the beach, when most others would've packed it in for the day and hoped for the next. Plunked in the dunes of the beach, the man is dressed to keep the warmth in his bones, yet he's sitting upon himself. He looked dejected, even from a distance: shoulders curled forward, knees pulled up, and a bottle of rum dangling from the neck from one hand.
Despite the fact that dinner has long past, Kiley carries a plate with her as she walks down the beach. A second dinner, most likely and by the looks of it as it is filled with primarily dinner foods and a few desserts. She is not looking for company, or expecting anyone to be along the beach at this time with the sun setting and the warmth beginning to fade. The woman moves to sit near the dune in which the man sits, clearly unaware of him as she makes herself comfortable near by. The plate comes to rest upon her lap as she takes a bun from it and rips a piece from it and dips it in some of the other contents on the plate. "Today sucks." She complains loudly, glaring at the ocean as if it is at fault for the outcome of her day. Silence returns after that one moment before she's looking about. The man near her doesn't get a startled cry, she only stares for a moment before her gaze returns to the water. Awkward.
It would be the voice that announces the day sucks that has Landers' attention sliding her way, compelled away from watching the water lazily slosh further up the shoreline with each ebb and flow. The sailor lifts a brow at the woman, catching the smell of her food with a sudden realization that his stomach was rumbling empty, save for the booze that he had poured down it with each mournful gulp. His face keeps hold of the lass as his thick seafarring accent rumbles up from where he sits, "Tell me 'bout it." Giving a swing to the bottle in his hand, the remaining quantity sloshes against its glass confines, the man regarding it thoughtfully before a swig is taken. Awkward maybe for the girl, since he easily lifts the bottle toward her in an offering sway, "Tis 'nuff ta give ya head ah little less of ah worry."
Kiley gives the man a simple look once more as he speaks, surprise evident in her face as she considers him more than a brief glance. She doesn't respond right away, perhaps missing if he means it or if she should remain quiet. "Um…." She starts but leaves it at that, settling for awkward silence more than anything else for a moment as he offers the bottle out towards her. Carefully, she's lifting her plate and herself to move closer. The bottle is taken before she eyes her food in consideration. Almost reluctantly, she offers out the plate before taking a drink from the bottle. Her face twists into one of surprise and slight disgust before coughing softly. "Thanks." Despite the previous reaction, she takes another drink and wrinkles her face so not to contort her face in such a manner again. "Why're you out here?" The curious nature in her must know. "Don't eat it all, I still want some." This comes as an afterthought about her food.
There is a languid descent of his face in a tilt to the side as he waits to see her reaction, a brow quirked higher the longer she keeps the silence between them in that awkward phase. Clearly he wasn't used to such a shy reception, although the fact of the matter was that he wasn't necessarily in a position to offer her a more comfortable grounds to meet. It would have to do; the offer of rum. An understanding nod is granted to her for when she does accept the bottle, in return taking the plate of food, having a grazing bite of it almost instantly. The warmth of the food and the heartiness of it settled quickly into his stomach, minding himself not to take much more than a few taste tests since after all it was hers. There's a polite, though forced, flicker of a smile on his features for her hospitality. His expression only darkens for the question asked, eyes pivoting back toward the water as if grappling for some other reason, some fabricated story he could claim real in place of the truth. It could be the time, the shared meal, or the head start on the drinking that loosens his lips, that lets the truth slip free: "Sayin farewell ta me Cap'n 'n 'mates." The man flexes his jaw in the fading light, eyes rounding back toward the young woman, "Wha t'bout ya?"
She's not one to be chatty right when meeting someone, so the silence likely lingers in the awkward hints for a little while yet. Reasons for that are great. Kiley considers her food that rests in his hands before leaning over to snag another bit for herself. She doesn't put it right in her mouth, however, seeking more rum beforehand. The rum then comes to rest between them as she makes a place in the sand for it to rest without tipping over and wasting the liquid. Then the food reaches her lips and she bites into it easily, looking to the ocean when he turns his gaze that way. "Oh. Sorry." Comes lamely from her lips and she stares blankly for a moment or two as if she did not hear his question. Another moment passes before she sighs and takes another drink of the rum and promptly returning it to it's place. Its only fair to return the story as he did answer her, "I recently came to the Weyr and had a rude welcome from… Someone. I don't know his name. Just wasn't what I was expecting. I didn't expect anything, though… Didn't want to experience that, however." Though she quiets at that, taking her bottom lip into her mouth and chewing on it suddenly while her free hand begins to fidget with the charm upon her bracelet before continuing on. "I felt kind've bullied. Just wanted to escape my thoughts." Though she's speaking of the incident, it is said with a hint of strain and discomfort. But once she finishes, the relief is obvious.
The tail end of sunlight rests on the horizon, while the night is barely tolerable without a sweater or light jacket, and upon the beach which has cleared of most of its users, are two figures who are sharing light conversation over a drink and a plate of food. Landers tries not to reach for another nibble of food, however the will power fails him as he takes another hunk to munch on during those long moments of silence that drifts between them. As awkward as it was to be speaking to a stranger, they were sharing rum back and forth like they had been well acquainted before. Still, her lame response garners a soft lift of his shoulders and a muffled response of words she'll never hear since he doesn't look capable of repeating it, nor willing. After more nibblets and a certain amount of rum intake later, the girl surrenders her reason for dwelling out in the darkening landscape. His chin lifts as he listens to her explanation of being bullied, which quickly earns a disapproving scowl to tighten his features, lips scrunching, "Who war it? War did 'e do? Tis na way tah treat a lady."
Kiley gives him a sympathetic look as he mumbles, leaning over just slightly in attempts to hear the words but she picks up nothing from it. Her brows furrow and she straightens herself once more. The silence lingers as it does, but certainly to turn less awkward at some point or another. Or not, being that they still are strangers but despite this they still share the drink. Her eyes find him while her face is still forward before she turns to look at him fully. His words earn a faint smile and a bit of laughter before she shakes her head. "Don't know… He never gave his name. Some harper, has a lot of…" There's a wave of her hand around her face as if to describe him with only that. "And his ears…" A sigh slips past her lips and she reaches for the rum, drinking a little more. The liquor certainly relaxes the once tense woman into speaking more freely about herself, "doesn't matter now, though. I get over it, go forward and do what I came here for.." Her eyes consider him again, searching his face as she leans over slightly. "What about you? You'll be okay, right?" She catches herself staring, blinks once before she turns and faces the ocean once more but not without stealing more food from the plate.
There has been enough time for Donakan that he has decided to come down to the beach. He has avoided it since hearing of the incident that had caused the death of so many of the seafairers that he had grown to become friends with. The vintner actually does not expect anyone to be on the beach at this time. He comes down to the water carrying a bundle of something. In fact, he seems so engrossed with his own current task that he doesn't really notice the other occupants upon the sandy beaches of Xanadu. His shined up shoes are pulled off as he gets to the start of the sandy beach and he carries them in one hand and his bundle in the other. Donakan stops at the waters edge and he drops his shoes down in the sand and he starts to go out into the surf carrying the covered item with him. The expression on his face very somber. He opens up a towel and he pulls out a small barrel that anyone who is familiar with it would know what he is carrying. It's content is rum. He heads out further into the surf and he lifts it up over his head. He looks to be muttering something and the alcohol is hurled out as far as his strength will toss it, into the current where it will be hopefully pulled out of into the ocean. Once the task is done, he just stands there and looks out at the wooden barrel bobs up and down in the waves on it's voyage out to sea.
"Ah," Landers begins with a flash of a smirk misplacing those forlorn features aside, until his face falls from a casual scolding shake, "Could be Pyriel, likely. Tis 'is way ta make ya feel low 'n he likes gettin under ya skin. Tis only because ah saved 'im 'n his mate that 'e dun give me trouble no more." A cant of his face turns his attention back upon the girl, "Tis not personal, I reckon." Rumpling his hair up with a sweep of his hand, he regards her for a time enjoying the offer of his rum, to the fullest extent as she continues to drink from it. It doesn't seem that he minds, since he merely waits for his chance to take another sip for himself, the plate moved to sit where they both could share in the meantime. "Tis it work that brings ya 'ere?" the sailor asks in his low tenor accent, eyes searching between her own as she asks of his own well being. After a time, his gaze drifts away, toward the waterside, "Aye… one day I reckon…" The sorry truth of it, to be sure. That is about the moment in which the strange actions of one person has Landers straightening up a little higher, pushing up onto his feet after making sure the plate and rum bottle are secure in Kiley's clutch. Squinting, the sailor tenses up at the offering made to the sea, a long exhale leaving him as his head falls once he does realize what the person had been doing out there. Only one person would have access to that much booze and would sacrifice it to the sea so willingly, "Donnie?!" The thick accent calls from behind two cupped hands, in attempts to sound over the sloshing of waves crawling up the shoreline.
"Pyriel, huh. You saved him?" The question comes out lamely as Kiley considers this information before she nods. "I'll try not to take it personal, then. Used to being… Teased and treated that way." At one point in her life at least, but she leaves it at that statement and no longer elaborating about herself so easily. Perhaps it is the fact that he watches her that keeps her from continuing to make eye contact or from really and truly looking at him. Except for the brief moments where their eyes do meet for a longer period of time. "Mhm.. My Craft. Should be here to stay, however." Unless something comes up. When his gaze finally shifts from hers, she is watching him with a careful tilt of her head. The plate and rum are settled into her grasp and that's what draws her attention to where Landers' gaze is. She has a harder time making out what, exactly, is going on but she is content to simply speculate or listen to what the man has to say. He calls out a name and she tilts her head, squinting in attempts to see this 'Donnie' person. "I'll be here if you want to.. Go off. I'll save some for you, even." She promises with a smile towards the man, and she really seems content just to sit there and wait, either way. The hour is late and the warmth of the day is fading for cooler temperatures and three figures linger on the shore. Two, a man and a woman are closer together and another figure, a man, stands farther and at the shore. Having recently thrown something into the ocean, it appears that he lingers to watch it go upon it's voyage.
The apprentice has trained himself to keep his emotions in check for many turns. His screwed up idea of what it means to be a real man, a bronze rider, is starting to fade. Real men to him were bronze riders, they are tough and strong and masculine. And they don't show a sappy side. It's only lately that this ideal has started to crumble. There are other real men who don't ride bronzes, and real men that don't ride dragons at all. He learned that from his friends who lost their lives. And so he stands there, allowing the waves to crash up on his legs and soaking his shorts. He allows the salt to spray upon his face and dampen his long chocolate brown hair and he allows himself his time to say goodbye. It wasn't a close bond like that of someone who served upon the ship with them, but when you serve drinks with the sailors and take the time to learn their names. It's definitely rough. Even as a few tears roll down his freckle splattered cheeks. He turns at the sound of his name. Lifting his arm up he wipes his face with the back of his arm and heads in to the beach. He looks towards the source of the calling and he stops. The towel is wrapped around his neck and he grabs his shoes and with a sigh. Too late to just slip off. He takes just an extra moment to make sure he is composed and the vintner apprentice heads over towards the man calling his name. He is quiet and somber at a distance but as soon as he gets into a close Sea Fairer his expression changes to that signature smile that he has at the Tavern. "Evening Landers. Beautiful night for a walk on the beach eh?" Yeah, guy code… pretend that nothing happened.
"In a way, aye," he responds quietly to Kiley, squinting at something unseen, something that was disturbing to the young man since his face reflected as such; lips twisting, nostrils flaring, eyebrows furrowing. There is hurt behind those eyes and no amount of pretending there wasn't would hide it, even while they played the 'don't look when he's looking' game. "Whar be ya craft then?" an probbing question, since the details were slow in coming, as they ought to be for two who just met on the beach and ended up sharing brief words inbetween the exchange of booze and food. Yet, once on his feet, regarding Donakan who was giving his last send off to those fellows who didn't make it, the answer of the young woman would be more or less unheard. After a brief fist clench to wear off some of the tension that had built almost immediately at the offering to the sea, the young woman's words have him sharply regarding her, as if having forgotten she was there. An apologetic smile is all that he can offer, torn between moving to Donakan's side or staying with the young woman whose name he hasn't even heard. It would seem that his exchange doesn't have to take place from the new acquaintance afterall, since Don is the one who makes the decision by coming up the beach toward them. Upon the bartender nearing, Landers' extends a hand out toward him, meaning to shake his hand at first and then do a quick bro-hug, nodding afterward, "I got yar package. They wouldn't let me have it 'til I got out…" A frown, "Thank ya, tis what I needed." A quick glance back to the rum now clutched in Kiley's hands, a glance between them before Landers claps Donakan on the shoulder, squeezing his friend's shoulder in a gesture between them, an understanding for what the bartender had just done, and the gratitude for it from the sailor. "Tis so… Donnie," as so Landers having nick named him, goes on with a shallow voice, not as jovial as he once was, "T'was just sitting 'n sharing a drink. Join us." Eyes flash toward Kiley, "M'lady, this be Donakan, barkeep at the Wherry."
Laera comes walking from the direction of the Weyr proper, sandles dangling from her fingertips and wearing her traditional sarrong. The outfit does little to hide the growing pregnancy, of about 4 months now. The woman has spent the last sevenday or so on bedrest since fainting in the infirmary. Pregnancy+badsleep+not eating well+stress equals not good. Her footsteps are slow as she walks along the beach, her gaze cast to the setting sun in a thoughtful expression. As she comes upon the group she looks them over for a moment before her green eyes settle on Landers and her footsteps take her over to him, a hand going lightly to his shoulder. "Hey there Sailor.." She greets him, leaning up for a cheek kiss before looking to the others, "Hey Donnie, Miss.." She says nodding to each one in turn, a hand extending to Kiley, "Not seen you around here..Laera of Blue Kereth." She says in greeting.
Kiley looks to Donakan as he, more or less, joins them. Her eyes are searching the man as well, thoughtful but not speaking as he speaks with Landers. She respects their need for the exchange and it isn't her place to bring forth her own opinions at the moment. The loss for them is evident and she need not bother the moment with her own opinions. She simply busies herself with looking the two men over with a careful examination before her gaze drifts past them and almost stares blankly at the ocean as if it holds unspoken answers. But Landers is responding to her and she only meets it with a slight smile before her own answer follows his question. "Computer." Which would explain her lack of coloring and perhaps her weight with her love of food. But she respects their need to speak, drowning out their words but watching their actions with a hint of interest and a more critical hint to it, as if she's committing the reactions to memory for some deeper science. The hug is met with the faintest of smiles, despite the lack of understanding of what such a hug means. As if suddenly shocked from her thoughts, the woman jumps slightly and turns wide-eyes to Landers and Donnie while cheeks flush a light shade of red which stands out brightly on her pale skin. "Kiley… Nothing all proper and fancy like that. Well met, Donakan." Her head inclines in a greeting and she considers the rum in her hand for the briefest of moments. Then another is joining them, the bluerider is given a blank look as she kisses the sailor upon the cheek before she's averting her gaze off to somewhere else even with the greeting done in her direction. "Kiley.." She repeats just for the bluerider, "well met, ma'am."
Donakan does the whole macho thing alright. He's been pretending for long enough to be at least somewhat convincing. He nods his head a few times at Landers. "Ahh, well that is silly of them. Don't they know that alcohol is the best medicine? It can pretty much cure any ailment. At least enough of it can make you forget about your aches and pains." He keeps that smile on, it is convincingly genuine too. His time working the bar and trying to cheer people up has paid off. He nods at Lander's offer to join them. "Sure, for a little bit. I have some time before my shift tonight." He looks at Kiley with his big blue-gray eyes as Landers doesn't offer up a name. "Pleasure." And then Kiley helps out by offering her name. "It's nice to meet you Kiley of the Computer Craft." When Laera comes over he turns his smile to her. It's a lot easier smiling whne you are with people you enjoy the company of. "Evening Laera, looking lovely as always." He of course doesn't know about the incident at the infirmary but he does know she was close to the Sea Fairer and she looks tired. He doesn't linger on that though when he says to Kiley. "Computer craft, I think I lasted an entire day in that craft. The Journeyman just spouted things off in another language and my head was spinning before he even had time to finish talking."
The light touch on his shoulder has the sailor redirecting his eyes upon a fourth that has joined them on the beach, his eyes drawing away from the bluerider so soon after he looks upon her face. There was reason behind -that-, nothing that could be explained in a glance. There was a gentle curve of a corner of his lip despite himself for the comforting and familiar kiss upon his cheek, murmuring his response politely, "Laera…" eyes following her own greeting to the other companions on the beach right then. In fact, he turned his attention on Kiley for the fact that he didn't catch her name before now, storing away her answer for later use. During all the exchange, he forgets to include his own name for the computer crafter, having turned back toward the barkeep, unspoken words shared between them, those few momentary glances. More would be shared over a drink, at another time, for the barkeep certainly had his way to offer an ear to those wanting to spill their guts. In the space inbetween, he searches out his bottle of rum, likely having to slip it out from inbetween Kiley's fingers, prompting with an open palm and a wiggle of fingers. Once he's got the rum, he takes a deep chug of it, only to thump it up against Donnie's chest to pass it on to the bartender, "Dun care iffin ya work. Tis only right."
There is a curious glance from Laera as Kiley averts her eyes from the cheek kiss. Acting like she was kissing his other 'cheek'. "New to the weyr I take it?" She asks with a half smile that brightens up her whole face. "Computer craft? Well then, fancy stuff. I suppose you have come to the right weyr. Xanadu has got all the toys and gadgets." She says as she slides an arm around Landers waist ever so casually, giving his side a gentle rub as she does so. There is a look up at him, the unspoken question plain in her eyes of how he was doing. At the compliments from Donaken she grins, "Now Donny, you keep saying stuff like that to me and I will have to kiss you as well." She says with a grin and reaches a hand to his shoulder. That little comforting touch, but no words passed on his grief. It is spoken in her own eyes. She lost patients as well. "I would drink with you guys if I could." She says with an almost solemn note to her voice and she settles her head again his arm as she looks out to see, taking in by the moment of shared grief between the group.
Kiley turns a smile towards Donakan for the greeting and then inclining her head, there's no more speaking from the woman for the moment until he brings up the Craft. She releases a soft snicker, "most of it can be confusing if you don't know what's going on. Got to stay on top of it if you want to make it any farther. I got sent there after I took apart most of the stuff at the Hold when I was younger." Not in the form of a punishment, however. Her lips curl into a more carefree smile before she's slowly turning her gaze upwards as to consider the time. Though she's quickly looking down as Landers is prying the bottle from her hand and she lets out a soft snort of laughter, "sorry." It takes her a moment to consider the plate before she's offering it up to the sailor to follow the rum. Hunger no longer grips at her stomach and causes her to give up the food that she selfishly clung to at the beginning. "I'm new, yes. To Weyrs in general." Laera is given a very soft response, her tone sheepish as well as the look she gives the bluerider. A nod follows, the sheepish look remaining upon her face as her eyes drift upwards once more. "I've seen them, but not all of them… I've still got a lot to see." The mention of kissing has the woman give the slightest of fidgets and if Landers did not take the plate, she is settling it carefully beside her. "I should be.. I still have a few things to check over. Perhaps I will see you all later." The flush of her cheeks remains from the uncontrolled emotions of embarrassment and fueled more furiously by the liquor. "It was a pleasure." One more nod follows before the woman is carefully making her way back to the Weyr.
Donakan shifts his glance between Laera and Landers. If he noticed Kiley's averted gaze he didn't react to it. He does however understand that exchange he has with Landers. The whole, we'll talk about it some other time thing is understood with a simple nod. When the rum is thrust towards him he smirks. Dimpled smirk and he takes a long swig of the rum. "Take more then the rum that I have here to get me smashed to the point where I can't work anyway." When Laera makes the comments about flattery and how she may have to kiss him. The vintner protrudes his lower lip and he pouts at Laera, "I never get kisses. But it's alright, I have the access to the alcohol stockpiles. So that's better then any kisses. Even from a sultry bluerider." The sailors wouldn't want them mourning without a good amount of alcohol present and they wouldn't want them to stay sad. He is trying his best to keep spirits up, that's what bartenders do. He shakes his head at Kiley. "Yeah. Well I have tried all of the crafts over the turns. If I didn't stick with the Vintners I would have nothing left to go to. Although I did alright in the weavers. I just dropped out after a fit of depression. The computer craft made my head want to explode. I am not good with numbers and technical stuff. But I can breathe fire so that makes up for my lack of intellect. It's not a useful life skill but it's flashy and not something many people can do." When Kiley heads off all flustered, he knows just what she is experiencing. So he says to the departing Kiley, "You know if you ask Laera nicely, next time sure she will give you a kiss too. She has nice kissing lips." Sometimes making a joke about an awkward situation makes dealing with it a little easier.
Landers shoots a half glance toward Laera when her arm slings around him, his soft blue eyes still consumed with turmoil under the glassy off shoots of drinking plenty of booze. At the suggestion of Donny being kissed, he grunts, "Long as I get ta see…" a long solid wink given there, trying to lighten the mood away from his own dour self. Laera will feel the tension in his shoulders and the all around rigid way that Landers holds himself, even after having several drinks which should make anyone limber. The sailor actually sighs quietly for some of the unspoken touches that would do more than words could ever accomplish. The offer of food should certainly help his empty stomach, this time gratefully accepting the plate that the computer crafter no longer wants, nodding to Kiley as he remains standing but now munching on the remains she didn't want, "Thank ya." He has to hurriedly swallow afterward, since the computer crafter beats a hasty retreat for it, a thoughtful look appearing on his face for some time, remembering just before she departs: "Tis been good ta talk ta ya Kiley. Be seein ya." Dabbing some of the left over bun into gravy on the plate, he tears into it, stopping during his chewing to regard Donakan with eyes almost popping out. Getting over his swallow he demands in a near accusing tone, "Ya never told me ya were a part of the sea craft!" since the vintner did claim that he had tried -all- the crafts. There is a significant arch of his brow for that tid bit gone missing.
"Well welcome to Xanadu and I hope you enjoy the ride." Laera says with a brighter grin towards to young woman. "No doubt I will be calling ya into the infirmary some time or another to fix one of teh gadgets there." She gives the woman a fingerwave as she heads off before grinning at Donakan, "Oh darling you only have to ask and you shall receive." She says and leans over to Donaken to give him a little cheek kiss if allowed before laughing at his suggestion of kissing Kiley, "I do love all kind of lips my dear…" She calls out before elbowing Donnie in the ribs, "That girl won't get over her blush now…" She says in a low voice, her fingers shifting from Landers hip to rub at his back gently and quietly. Just that unvoiced presence there between people who share pain despite the jovility they show the world. "You lads will have to drink some extra for me, alright? For the Windy Waters." She murmurs in a softer voice.