Glass Against The Music
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Xanadu Weyr - Meadow Ridge

The meadow continues its gentle rolls and dips, grass tall and short waving in the slightest of breezes. Each hill seems to grow a bit higher, a bit steeper, as eventually, the meadow works up to a large ridge, the top flattening out at its new elevation. From the top of the ridge, the view is certainly something to be admired - higher than the majority of the trees, one can look out over the rest of Xanadu Weyr proper. The houses in the lower meadow - each roof a different color - and the clock tower peeking upwards from the its forest surroundings are all visible, as is the cliff that houses the Weyr Caverns themselves. And yet, the ridge also holds an amazing view of the night sky - horizon to horizon - unaffected by the light pollution of the more heavily traveled regions. Settled upon the ridge is a rather distinctive looking building - nearing three stories tall, circular grey walls have carefully been erected, and a large dome is settled upon this solid foundation. Large panels make up the roof, aside from one section which remains open, and from which the telescope the struction houses peeks out. Sitting adjacent to the tower is a long, low building, meant to serve as offices, record rooms and dorms for those who man the observatory, as well as providing a handy platform for those who seek to use smaller, hand-held 'scopes.


It's fall again in Xanadu, most of the spring and summer having been spent indoors because of all of the rain. Now that it had mostly tapered off, it was starting to get chilly again. Wearing a warm fall jacket, is a blond harper apprentice, hanging out by the ridge overlooking the weyr proper. He's leaned back against one of the few trees here. It's a scraggy looking thing, as if it might just topple over itself even with Pyriel's slight weight upon it. He's playing a guitar, the black and white checkered strap attached to it in place around his back. It's a pretty tune he's plucking out, his fluffy head lowered to look down at the strings.

Iosas too, seems to have taken the opportunity to get out now that the rains have tapered off. And since he's still kind of new, the best place to go to get a good view of as much of the Weyr as possible, he figures, is the ridge. So that's there is he now. Though as he nears the ridge, he hears…music? He's curious now, and approaches, quietly, so as not to disturb whoever it is that's playing….

Pyriel isn't paying any attention to who might be coming or going. In fact, a couple of starcrafter apprentices pass Iosas on their way down the hill from the observatory, casting a glance to the boy playing the guitar but otherwise paying him no mind. They continue with their chatter about charts and calculations, both nodding to the young glasscrafter pleasantly enough, but do not stop or linger. Soon they too are gone, leaving nothing but the autumn wind and the soft melodic guitar playing.

Iosas offers a quiet nod and smile to the departing starcrafters, not paying their chatter much mind, since he doesn't want to interrupt them; what they're doing looks important. Besides that, he has no idea what they're talking about anyway. He just continues on up to the ridge so he can find out who's playing. Once he crests the ridge and sees the player of the music, he pauses. Though he still doesn't speak, since he doesn't want to interrupt the music. He'll just listen for now, and enjoy the sound.

The song goes on for quite a while, but never turns into loud and clashing cords, rather seems to weave a spell that accompanies the falling leaves and frosted mornings of the fall like magic. After a time, the melody comes to a sweet and hopeful ending as the harper's long slender fingers finally come to a halt. That fluffy blond head comes up, startling golden colored eyes homing in almost immediately upon the intruder. Then the chin comes up, rather well suited to all the holes and hardware that the kid had punched into his face. Piercings everywhere. Two for one corner of his bottom lip, two for the end of one eyebrow, and several for each of his ears. The lobes have been ever so slightly stretched, allowing one to actually peer through to the other side with a rim of black plastic keeping the strange gaps open. "What?" he asks, lips already drawing down into a frown.

Iosas just listens, without bothering the player of the music, and a small smile lights his face. He looks out over the Weyr rather than staring at the harper, just letting his mind wander while the music plays. As the song comes to an end, he smiles, prepared to compliment the harper. But he blinks, surprised as much by the piercings as by the sudden frown and likely rather snappy-sounding question. "Uh…nothing really," he offers, looking completely caught off guard. "I was just coming up here to get a look at things, and was listening to your playing. I didn't want to interrupt, you're really good," he offers, hoping the honest compliment and the smile will placate the harper.

"Yeah." Pyriel says flatly, pushing himself off the poor tree with a hard enough nudge to make the thing rock back and forth as he steps away from it. While he hadn't particularly snapped at Iosas, he certainly wasn't being very friendly either. He rotates the guitar once laying it out against his back before shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. His gaze flickers to the knot on the glasscrafters shoulder, before they jump up to the older boy's face. He almost seems to be making a mental record with the way he studies both, committing them to memory. Just about then, a small brown firelizard scrambles up the back of his jacket and soon disappears under the collar. Likely snuggled up between where shoulder and neck meet if the lump beneath his clothing is any indication. The blond hisses somewhat, an annoyed expression crossing his pretty features.

Iosas blinks again, seeming kind of…confused. He meets the harper's gaze squarely, though. It's kind of an awkward moment, really, Iosas is kind of at a loss for words. The harper doesn't really seem to want to be drawn into a conversation, and that's a difficult thing for Iosas to overcome, since…well, he's not that great at the whole conversation thing. The firelizard, and the harper's reaction to the crawling around gives him something to latch onto. "Are you all right?" he inquires, looking to the moving lump of firelizard underneath the other fellow's shirt.

Pyriel twitches in pain slightly, eyeing the lump where it squiggles a bit before it makes a soft chittering sound. "Sharding 'lizard…" he grumbles under his breath before his attention once again falls to Iosas. He looks like he may want to shrug, but thinks better of it before he actually manages to move any. "Yeah. Claws on these things…" he says with a sigh, before trying a step towards the slope of the hill, and when that seems safe enough, he tries another. So far so good.

"I hope he doesn't fall out of there," Iosas offers. "If he does, he's going to claw you." He winces a little, at the thought. The implication of an offer of assistance to extract the firelizard is there. He's still a little awkward, since he's not quite sure how to deal with the other fellow. However, he offers, "…Well…I probably should have said earlier, but I'm Iosas." That he's a recent arrival goes unsaid, but it's probably not needed. He does offer a hand for a handshake, though.

The way the harper apprentice looks at Iosas suggests that it would be wise if the glasscrafter did not attempt to touch him. At all. So the offer to extract the little brown is certainly declined without needing to put any words into place. There's a strange complex expression that drifts across his face, difficult to read perhaps without aide. "Pyriel." he returns, his hands not leaving the pockets of his pants, and nor does he indicate that he even noticed the hand extended towards him in greeting. For some reason, the blond appeared to be on constant guard now.

No handshake? All right then. Iosas drops the unshaken hand, and instead offers a nod. "Pleased to meet you," he offers, even if Pyriel doesn't seem to be all that pleased to meet him. He's giving the other fellow plenty of room, so he's not crowding the harper. So there's that, at least; he's not invading Pyriel's personal space. Probably a good thing, given the 'back-the-shells-up' expression that Pyriel might be aiming at him. Think of something, think of something! Music. That seemed to be a semi-okay topic. "…Was that a song you wrote?" he inquires. "It was really good." Awkward, awkward, awkward….

One might be amused in seeing an older, much taller boy being so intimidated by someone who is much the opposite. Pyriel might not have height and girth on his side, but there was something to be said about the way he carried himself that certainly seemed to make up for it. That look he had, was definitely the one that Iosas was thinking was aimed at him. In spades. There is a blink, and the harper's lips frown deeper still. "Does it look like I would write something like that?" he asks, voice just as flat as before. "Really didn't think ya'd be so thick, guessing I was wrong." That chin is lifted just a bit higher at that, as if challenging the other to make something of it. Pyriel looked like the scrapper sort. "I got assignments just like any other apprentice." Ah, classwork then.

Iosas is permissive of a lot of things. But where insults are concerned? That's pushing it a bit. Iosas frowns a little, and tilts his head. "Hey, I had no way of knowing," he defends. Crossing his arms, he states, in a voice that's…actually rather polite despite the words that were being said, "Not everyone in a craft has the same level of talent as everybody else of his same rank. I'd have thought it'd be taken as a compliment if someone thought you wrote it. I had no way of knowing you'd only /wished/ you'd written it…."

Pyriel actually smirks as Iosas goes on the defensive, attempting to toss an insult right back at him in response to his own. Through from the reaction, he appears more amused than put off. "Ya think I'd want to write flowery, girly ballads?" he asks, head now tilting slightly off to one side. He leaves out what level of talent he may or may not have, though that smirk of his was increasing exponentially as the seconds tick past. "Ain't no way. I'd show ya my sound, but I don't give two wherries about what ya think." As he spoke, the words took on a harsher, colder tone and his expression flattened out to match until the chilly silence completes the transformation. "If ya excuse me, I got better ways to waste my time." With that, the fluffy headed harper starts on down the hill, without so much as a single glance back.

Iosas doesn't bother replying, he just doesn't see the need. Let the unpleasant fellow have the last word, he figures. Let him feel like he's won something. Though one might imagine that some kind of mental note has been made from the encounter, either way. Iosas just remains where he is, watching Pyriel leave. He's not going to let the other fellow bring his mood down too much. The view — and remembering how pretty the song was — is enough to leave him in a pretty good mood, for a while at least.

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