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.
IT IS DARKNESS! AND DOOOOOM! Okay, it's not that dark; Rukbat's still hanging onto her reign, but she's losing the fight, bleeding vivacious oranges and stunning violets across the sky as she sinks slowly below the horizon. AND WHAT DOES ONE DO ON THE DOCKS? Well, if you're Risali, you sit on the edge of one conveniently emptied dock with one leg tucked under you, the other hanging over the edge, and a bottle of what looks suspiciously like rum cradled in one hand. And you sing. You raise your bottle-of-suspiciously-rum to the sky, and you bob your head like maybe you aren't quite sober, and you shout out lyrics both ridiculous and raucous, both bawdy and rousing. You keep your own tempo, the water reflects your shame back at you (or just tries to blind you, seriously), and one ENORMOUS GOLD DRAGON keeps time out in the water with a broadcasting projection of bass and drums meant to SET THE MOOD and by the melody for every song her lifemate sings ever. What a PAIR THEY MAKE. A very, very LOUD pair. A not-even-remotely-dignified-pair. A Risali-isn't-wearing-her-knot-again-who-does-Leirith-even-belong-to pair. But if they have one thing going for them for this set, it's this: they'd be really hard to miss.
Even with the Rukbat's rays sinking below the horizon there's still work to be done on the docks until its all but gone, at least for some. One particular young woman is maybe slipping away from her chores a bit early, but who's telling? That singing over there… while it could be sort of ignored with busy back and forth, once there's not work to focus on the evening's 'entertainment' earns more attention. The blonde pauses at that empty space on her way down the dock. "Maybe a bit off key, if you ask a harper, but I've heard worse."
That voice interrupts the goldrider, and Risali pauses, tilting her head to take in the blonde from beneath too damn much black hair and — "Is that so?" Risali asks, amusement punctuating every word. At least she isn't slurring, so there is probably hope for sobriety yet! And then she's turning; just like that, the Weyrwoman is turning to put her back to the water, setting her no-really-what-is-in-that-Risali bottle on the dock, and bringing her arms in somewhere near her stomach as she leans forward. Elbows to thighs, chin to the palms of her hands, that smile never leaves. Those eyes keep their warmth, but adopt something else, something full of mirth and mischief as Risali breathes out, "If you think you can do better, let's hear it. Go on." She's waiting.
Katailea laughs, shaking her head just a bit. "Never said that," she comments. Not that she was any better, or worse for that matter. "But I think it goes something like…" and she'll pick up the rest of the verse about where Risali left off. Certainly not a songstress herself, but she can carry a tune well enough. "And I do appreciate someone else who knows the words," she concludes with a grin of her own.
Risali's brows raise for that first comment, but she doesn't say a word. She waits. And then Katailea is singing, and Risali keeps smiling as she closes her eyes and brings up one hand as if conducting and entire orchestra of harpers. It's not until the conclusion, until after Katailea has spoken her appreciation that those grey eyes come open again — just as warm, just as amused, just as mischievous. "Well," the weyrwoman offers, "given that I am a musically trained harper, I think I'd be remiss if I didn't know the lyrics." And that nose scrunches, there's a huff of laughter, and Risali is picking up her bottle of probably booze again, patpatpating the dock beside her with one hand while the other hand WAVES THAT BOTTLE AROUND DANGEROUSLY. But in offering, though. DON'T YOU WANT SOME OF THIS, KATAILEA? "Where did you learn that song?" Because, hey. It's worth asking questions, and Risali really isn't trying to be rude.
Katailea shrugs, dropping to take a seat beside the woman (she has nowhere she needs to be so why not?). Not exactly graceful, but not clumsy either, comfortable really as she reaches for that offered bottle to take a swig, after a "Well then, suppose I should take back the bit about being off key?" said with a good-natured grin. Though maybe she sneaks in a quick sniff first. Maybe. Either way the bottle is offered back after her quick drink. A shrug of shoulder the young woman's reply to the question, "Grew up on a ship?" the offered response. It is a place little girls can learn some things mothers might rather they not. "Wouldn't have expected that to be something taught at hall though." Harper Hall that is, given that she was just told Risali was a trained harper.
Risali just laughs, tilting to bump Katailea with a shoulder (unless, of course, the younger woman avoids the contact), pausing long enough to draw in a sharp breath like maybe she's injured, and then shivering out all that excess energy. THAT'S HER STORY, ANYWAY. "A ship? What was that like?" And then Risali is blinking around them, as if it's just dawned on her that they are, in fact, on the dock before she corrects herself with a, "Is? Do you still live on a boat?" But there's more mischief, a scrunch of her nose as grey eyes take in Katailea for a long moment and then look away, taking back the drink to take her own swig before she answers. "You don't. But when you have a hunger for music, you pursue all of those doors that knot opens up to you." A beat, and then a tilt of her head, as Risa's eyes come back to Kate and she extends that drink back out, should she want more. "What about you? Are you here because you're hungry and seeking something, or is this just a temporary stop?"
"I do," Katailea replies about living on a ship. "Most of the time anyway. I mean we're in port sometimes. But it was fun as a kid," she goes on to explain what it was/is like. "I mean going different places, being out on the oceans.. but I guess sometimes it was a little lonely too. Does that make sense?" She shrugs lightly as if it doesn't really matter one way or the other what Risali might answer. The blonde nods a bit more in response to learning such songs, around a second drink from that bottle before its passed back again. "Just another stop."
"Like… maybe there's nothing really permanent?" Risali offers up, with a smile that softens and then pulls too far to the side, going wry. "Nothing that really belongs to you?" Maybe she does get it, but she doesn't pursue it further. Instead, she offers up a soft, "It makes sense." Risali takes that bottle back, takes another swig, but instead of conversation, the goldrider goes silent — too silent. Those grey eyes shift, and then Risali is turning again, facing the water, looking out towards Leirith whose head rises from the sea with whirling blue eyes to watch both her lifemate and the girl-on-the-dock. "Risali," the goldrider says, suddenly. "My name is Risali. What's your name?" Now that bottle is being offered back, the weyrwoman's attention focused back on the blonde beside her.
Katailea gives a shake of a head in reply, "Not exactly," but its easy enough to see where some might put it that way. Reaching for the bottle when its offered again she pauses midway there when Risali goes silent, bluegreen eyes narrowing slightly as she looks her way. Just about to ask if everything is alright as her hand falls back to her lap and then there are names to be shared. "Katailea," the blonde offers. The bottle ignored for a moment as she thinks about the name shared with her a touch longer, "Ris-" Why does she know that name? "As in Weyrwoman Risali?"
'Weyrwoman Risali.' Risali mouths the words, attention drifting back to the sea as her shoulder rise and she exhales. Then those grey eyes cut sideways, back towards Katailea as her lips pull in more mischief, in the beginnings of a smile, "To errant Lord Holders and their outlandishly greedy requests, yes. To you, Katailea — to most people, really — just Risali." Because titles don't hold terribly much weight with her. Because she is just a human as any other person despite the fact that a wayward gold chose her and circumstance found her in possession of a knot she never even strived to be the owner of. "Hopefully you know my name because of scholarly pursuits, and not infamy. If you've heard anything about me or fire, it's probably mostly not true." And there's an even wider smile, a moment as those grey eyes take in Katailea's face and then the goldrider scoots just a little closer to her — not too close, but close enough that she can lean back and then to the side, to better take in the younger woman's face. "Would you want to make it a longer stop? Maybe… see if your land legs are anymore fulfilling than your sealegs?"
"I'm sorry Wey- Risali," Katailea catches herself and mostly leaves out the title this time. "I just.. I guess I didn't expect to see the Weyrwoman out here." Not like this anyway! There is a smile all the same. Certainly a more interesting meeting than most of similar status. "Can't say I've heard anything about fire," the trader says a touch skeptical of just what might have been implied by that. "Try to at least know the names of the leadership where we're going," she explains, leaning back a bit as Risali moves closer. "Maybe? Can't say I'd know what to do with myself though."
"Well," Risali offers around a smile, a hint of canines, "I'm sure we can figure out something for you to do." And there, there's a shift as the Weyrwoman leans away, as she wrestles with a pocket for just a moment to produce a white knot. She turns it in her fingers, inspects it, and then extends it towards Katailea. "But Leirith is positive she sees something in you. She's not often wrong about people, and Ilyscaeth and Xermiltoth have a clutch of ten eggs on the sands that need a lot of worthy potential. You might find your lifemate, you might be left standing, but… you have a chance. And they have a chance." The dragons, she means. Though she's PLUCKING UP THAT RUM BOTTLE, and tucking it away. "You can still drink, but you can't get drunk. There's a rule against fighting, too. That's non-negotiable. We are more lax on some rules — like sex. If you're discreet, if you don't get pregnant, then we really don't care what you do prior to a hatching." A beat, a wiggle of that white. "A little adventure on land this time. What do you say?"
Katailea narrows her gaze at the older woman fishes for what turns out to be that knot. "Me?" she sounds skeptical at that offer, the idea that some dragon sees something in her to be worth being offered as a choice for the too be hatched eggs. "I mean I'd never really thought about it before." A laugh and a smile at the rules that are ticked off, "Suppose those aren't as bad as I've heard…" She considers for a moment longer. "I say I never woulda imagined today would end with this, or I'd spend more than a seven at a time here, but sounds like an adventure to me."
"Excellent," Risali breathes, "then we are agreed." And if Kate doesn't take that knot herself, if she doesn't duck and weave away from Risali, the Weyrwoman will ABSOLUTELY PIN THAT KNOT ON HER. She sticks her tongue between her teeth in concentration to do it, brow furrowing before — BEAM. "There." No matter how that ends, Risali is still getting to her feet, cradling rum against her chest as she gestures towards the weyr proper. "I'll wait for you, if you need to tell your crew where you'll be. And then we'll go introduce you to the Weyrlingmaster and his assistants together. Find me when you're ready." And away she goes, that hulking gold monstrocity rising from the water to follow after her lifemate with a projected, « CONGRATULATIONS, BADASS, » for Katailea in passing.