Western Weyr - Lagoon Shore
A sandy beach running along the edge of the lagoon, between the sparkling waters and the bowl. Sometimes riders and dragons are seen playing in the water nearby or a dolphin can be seen cavorting. At other times seacraft can be seen coming in under the arch to dock. The lagoon is large enough to fill a quarter of the length of the bowl. A path winds out along a ledge out to the docks to the southwest, the lagoon to the west and the bowl to the east.
Electric lights light the entrances as those on night duty come out to take over, moving quietly in the night so as not to disturb those sleeping about the Weyr.The days grow longer over the spring months, the air seeming more fresh and warm than it did over the winter.
Western Weyr is as beautiful as ever, weather wise. The day has aged; with the pervasive heat of noon having long since given away to the relative coolness of evening. Now, the light of Rukbat is beginning to dim behind the blackened shadows of fronds on the horizon and the faintest points of starlight have made themselves known unto the night sky. It has been a busy day for the Seacraft as well. A delegation of sorts has descended upon Western Weyr, multiple ships lining her docks. Small fishing vessels like the Silver Scale are lashed up beside great oceangoing vessels such as the Blue Jewel. A gather of sorts, all day decisions were made and new courses set for the seacraft. Now, work has given away to play and a general party is occuring on board the Blue Jewel — a huge, three masted and stately ship that now rings of laughter and music and smells of sweat and booze. People jostle from place to place, dance in one place and a few are passed out near the stern. Some are more quiet, and one of those is a veritable mountain of a man — his arms folded across the ship's railing; back to the party as he watches the light of Belior and Timor creep up over the horizon.
Lorena basks in the glow of the lamp lights surrounding the main gathering. She watches with bright eyed amusement as Kelgish, the bosun's mate of their ship, the Oranna, attempts to guide another sailor along in a sort of dance. Problem with this would be the intoxicity of the pair. Neither seems to be quiet aware of the occupation of their own limbs, let alone that of the others'. But they're indeed trying valiantly. She giggles to herself but it's cut short as someone grabs her backside rudely. She whips around to deck the offending individual but find him alread out cold before she's even made a full turn. One of her fellows stands before her, grinning. "Thanks Vairn." "Need ta be a bit quicker, Lor. 'E almos got away." "I'll work on it." She winks at him as she weaves her way out of the mass. Yeah, need some air. She walks along the railing, running her fingers over the painted wood absently, eyes out towards the horizon. It's not long before she notices she's not the only one. "Evening- er…" She glances at his knot. "…Journeyman. Party getting a bit rowdy for ya?" Her voice lits with laughter at it's edges, but not mocking, just happy.
L'dran is studying the horizon intently; bushy eyebrows masking a furrowed brow as his attention lingers upon the specific , scintilating patterns of moonlight on the water. Nonetheless, he does not startle when he is spoken to; the corners of his eyes successful in their task of informing him that company is approaching. His head turns towards the interloper at her initial greeting; one of those thick eyebrows upraised for a few seconds. Her mirth-edged voice is greeted and responded to with almost complette silence. That is, for five seconds or so — and then the left corner of the tall man's mouth quirks upwards in a friendly half-smile and his arms begin to unfold. Concealed in his bearlike left paw is a canteen that is almost laughably small, given the size of his owner. It migrates as though by magic across an open palm to be clasped between thumb and forefinger and clearly offered to her. "Hardly." He says, his voice a rich baritone that matches his size — though the rolling tones are friendly. "Something on my mind. There is a ship that is yet to arrive, and is late by a couple of hours. They mentioned that they might be, but… I've been doing search and rescue for long enough that my blood tells me I ought to be 'adragonback and looking for them. I'll relax in due time, Lass." Should she sample the canteen, it is… violently strong. With more of a sweet than fruit taste — once one gets through the burn.
Lorena's not been one to turn down an offering, unlike her older brother… of whome that half smile he presents reminds her vaguely. She glances out at the horizon again as she takes a sip, listening. Her brows furrow in concern as she hands the canteen back, clearing her throat as subtly as she can manage. She'd not been expecting the impact of the drink. "Thankie." She rests her elbow on the rail. "Certainly reason enough to be out here looking I suppose. Where're they coming from?"
L'dran appears to relax and open a little bit more with the acceptance of his canteen; a few harsh lines in his face fading as the container is taken back and tipped to his lips. "Tillek hold." He utters, after swallowing — during which there is not the least sign of discomfort upon his face. The impression is given that this fire-water is, in fact his drink of choice. The canteen is offered again too, with slightly less reservation this time. "Their intention was to avoid the….. decision making, and arrive for the festivities. If I don't see them by midnight, Illusiath and I will go looking. They can't be more than a couple hours 'adragonback out, and the course to Tillek is easy enough to chart. You realize as well, that by accepting the first offer, you've commited to finishing the canteen with me so that I'm not standing there alone?" A slightly impish look appears on his face. "Besides. The longer you stand there, the longer it makes it look like someone has already gaffed me, and I have to worry less about some drunk, flighty young thing plastering herself to me."
"Oiy! Lor!" Lorena glances over her shoulder at the congregation but rolls her eyes and turns back. She's busy after all, and by now her crew ought to know the rules of that. She gives the bronzer a smirk. "Some service… I think I can bare the payment." She does take the proffered canteen once more. Another swig, and nothing to follow. She'd expected it this time, the intensity. "In any case, happy to do it… Things were getting a bit too…" She frowns a mere moment, searching for words. "'touchy-feely' if you know how I mean. My lot take good care a'me… mind my brother'd beat them dead if they didn't… but it's nothing I want to endure very long anyway." She looks at the canteen a moment, in half-hearted curiosity, before returning it. "So we do mutual favors I suppose. Tillek… yeah, well I suppose that'd be easy enough. Even if they did get off course some, can't be far." She glances up at him unreadibly and offers a shrug. "I'm sure my brother'd be most willing to help you. He used to head search and rescue at our home, Xanadu, till recently. I'd offer myself and Loyauth, but I might just get in the way if it's something serious. Best intentions in mind, of course."
L'dran is a very attentive listener; that much is obvious right ffrom the beginning of the other's words. He takes the canteen back as soon as she is done with it; seeming to savor his long gulp from it. His next comment indicates that he noticed her glance into it as well. "I have a close friend at Ista who makes this for me. I have a few bottles of it in my Weyr. She's kind enough to make a half dozen or so available to me. I keep it for… special occasions, such as this. Where the effect is desired, without having to drink a kegful. I do hope that you can hold your liquour." Mouth-corner quirks again, in that half smile. "But you seem the resilient type." He half turns away from her then; resting his elbows on the edge of the railing and studying the water once more. "Touchy-feely? Tell me about it. I've had no less than three popositions this evening. Unfortunatly, or perhaps fortunatly, I am a bit more discerning as to whom I bed than I was when I was younger." There is a silence as he considers for a moment. "Long as your eyes, and your dragon's wings work, be every help. I'm sure their fine. I am merely an old busybody who can't sit idle very long without starting to pace." Though he refers himself to 'old' he doesn't look more than late thirties, early forties. Of course, that is old to some.
Lorena gives a chuckle as she too faces the water on either elbow, cocking a leg lazily as a runner might. "Resilient? I suppose as much. It certainly takes me longer than my current peers." She gets an almost childishly wicked grin on her face. "And they don't expect it for my size either." The grin fades to just inner amusement as she watches the water below, eyes following the lapping waves like a cat over a fishbowl. "I guess I'm a bit more, er, moral than most, though, when it comes to getting.." Again, looking for a word amid the water. "involved… with all them that seem keen on it. Or so I've been gathering. But" A shrug. "Like it makes a difference to me. I'm happy… most of the time." She looks at him with one of those quick grins again, before turning it back to the water. "And if it's eyes and wings you're needin' then we'd be happy to. S'good sometimes to just know you're prepared, whether you've got to act or not." She pauses in her darting eyes, focusing on their shadows in the ever changing canvas beneath. "Or so I often find."
L'dran grunts in an approving manner in response to that one. He had indeed pegged her for a 'resilient one'. "I find size has less to do with it than experience, and fortitute. There are plenty of big men who keel over far too easy." Something in what she says causes him to laugh, for the first time since their meeting. It is a gentle baritone that is not an unplesant sound at all, and it manages to carry over the general racousness of the party around them. "Moral. That is a good way of looking at it, I suppose. Though, I think in my case it is less a factor of morality and more a factor of simply being picky. That, perhaps, and finding company in my bed less important than when I was younger. It is not quite such an essential part of being happy as it was before." He does not mention the ship he is worrying over for awhile, his eyes instead focused out to sea. "That is wise thing to say, and a very correct one. All of my life, I have tried to be the sober one when others are not; the wingman for those in trouble. When someone must remain alert, it is usually I. I pride myself on being prepared. Such as it has always been with me, such as it is tonight."
Lorena debates what she just said in her head in the slight lull between them, but is brought out of self critique. "Picky and moral could be different ways of saying the same thing. But its certainly not been a focus of happiness. Perhaps that's a male thing." She raises her eyes to him a moment, looking him over again. "Yeah… You do look the part. Heh, least ways I know I'd feel better if it were my ship you were waiting for. Our Oranna's managed to keep herself out of trouble. I suppose that'd be good seamanship, but sometimes I wonder if she doesn't tell T'eo when to steer clear of things." Hm… That was a bit overly thoughtful. "T'eo's my brother." She offers, absently twirling her hair in her fingers. "He's kinda the same way, being the 'rescuer' type. For a sailor he sure is a disgrace when it comes to drinking." Her eyes glitter with the sudden impish grin that alights her face. "Had to help him a couple times. His weyrmate sure appreciated it. Maybe that's why they're not together anymore…" She drifts off into self musing.
L'dran takes this oppertunity, as his conversation-partner speaks to take a long swill from the flask of firewater. Quite a long one. When she is finished, his mammoth hand offers it to her once more. "I think… as far as myself, and men in general…… in regards to physical intimacy being required for happiness, at least when younger.. " His shoulders shrug, slowly. "Boys will be boys?" The tone is asked entirely as a question, though there is a faintly amused look in his eyes. He is then silent yet again, as he too muses over something that her reminscence apparently reminded him of. "I thought being able to hold your drink was a requirement before you walked the tables at seacraft hall." He finallly says; that good-natured grin back to him. "I recognize his name from somewhere, by the way. Either someone has mentioned it, or I have met him; I am not sure. It just sticks in my head."
Lorena glances at the flask, a grin resuming on her face as she drops the tendril of dark hair and takes it. She takes a swig and makes a face, but not at the drink. At what he's said… about boys… "A bronzer I knew used to say that…" She hands back the flask, and frowns at the water with a setting of her dark brows. "Jerk." She mutters but gives a small sigh of apology. "Can't really say that as he's a better bronzer, certainly. Not so far as my brother…" She glances at him. "And don't get me wrong… He can hold drink well enough for someone his size. He just generally doesn't unless he's really unhappy." Like lately. But lets leave that bit out. "He was temporarily Weyrleader at Xanadu for a time…Before I was there, but that's usually where people remember him from. Said he was all too happy to opt out of that one. I guess I could see it."