Synchronicity [Roz/Dorvlo]

[Zen]

Kisoraz

The damp and chilly candidate caverns were such a far cry from what he was used to, Kisoraz preferred spending time on the beach. At least it was outside and therefore had reason to be cold. Mavros may be a young Weyrhold hardly founded at a good time but it was a bit ridiculous just how horrible the conditions were. He certainly hadn’t expected Mirran’s luxury but he was still getting used to settling for so much less, and it was really solidifying the idea that his father had sent him here as some sort of punishment. He could believe it if his father was embarrassed that one of his sons had failed to Impress for as long as he had and wanted him out of sight and out of mind.

With a sigh, Kisoraz did his best to put those thoughts out of his head as he sat just outside the candidate caverns in a chair he’d carried out, one leg raised so he could rest his sketchbook more comfortably in his lap. One of the Wings was in the middle of drills over the bay and he worked to capture the movement, the passion, the urgency, of the fight against Thread. He wore fine leather gloves that had long since conformed to his hands perfectly, great for sketching outdoors on cold days, leaving his hands with a near full range of motion and keeping them from getting too cold for steady work. They’d been a gift from his eldest sister, who appreciated his art nearly as much as his mother did.

If he did nothing else in his time at Mavros, he hoped he could at least bring a bit of culture to the place, particularly as he wasn’t certain he would be welcomed back home if he failed to Impress here. But if anywhere on Pern needed Mirran’s influence he couldn’t imagine a place that needed it more than Mavros. If there was such a place then he would like to know what the rest of Pern had been doing since Faranth broke shell. He made a displeased sound at the thought and sat back to look at his work, comparing it to the scene still playing out above. He enjoyed watching Wing drills. There was something rather poetic about it. Perhaps not for the riders participating, who could not sit back and see the whole for what it was, but for those watching below? The synchronicity of dragons moving as a greater entity was quite a sight to behold and perhaps his favorite subject to capture.

Footsteps drew his attention and he glanced back briefly to see who might be coming, spotting the young man that had only recently arrived. He still hadn’t met him properly so he wasn’t sure what his name was, but they shared sleeping quarters so it was difficult to miss a new face. He offered a friendly smile, “You’ve come out for some air at a good time. One of the Wings is drilling.” He gestured above, watching quietly for another moment before glancing back at the other man, “We haven’t met properly. I’m Kisoraz. You're new to Mavros... are you new to candidacy as well?”

roz

[roz]

Dorvlo :: Candidate

Mavros was just fine with Dorvlo, he lived in a small home with 5 other people and worked on an even smaller craft with even more people. The fishing trawler was wet, chilly, and didn’t always smell that good. So this place was a step up in his mind. Enough so that he wondered if he could get his mother to bring the young ones and move here. The only thing that did get the young man down was the weather. Ista was warm, this cold was something to get used to and it really didn’t help that he did not in fact own anything. Oh, he missed his family a great deal the hugs from his mother, all his younger siblings vying for his attention after being at sea for several days or so. Yes, he really did want his family to join him here. His gut said that was unlikely to happen so he had to move on.

He was bored as it were, he really didn’t know what to do with all this free time he had here. He pondered it for a second or two and decided he might have a little walk, maybe down to Harbor Cave? Standing he grabbed the worn coat he received upon arrival and peeked out of his door. Firelizards! Yes, that was the worst thing about this place, at least to him. He had to check the hallways for the awful little things before went anywhere. The truth was if he allowed himself to get past his experiences with gold Queenie he probably wouldn’t mind them so much. That was not going to happen anytime soon.

He moved perhaps a little faster than was needed, mainly to make it outside before a firelizard popped out of nowhere. He very nearly missed the other candidate sitting just outside with something on his lap. He didn’t look too hard, fishcrafter or not his mother taught him some manners. He spoke and Dorvlo stopped next to him letting his eyes scroll up to the sky. “I see, it's hard to imagine we might be up there someday,” he said, letting his gaze fall back to the man speaking to him. “You're drawing them huh?” he asked but really it was more of a statement.

“Oh right no I haven’t really met too many people since my arrival,” he admitted but smiled at Kisoraz as he introduced himself. “Nice to meet you Kisoraz. I’m Dorvlo.” he offered, shaking his head. “Yep, it's all new to me. I’m a fishcrafter… well I was I guess.” he paused, eyeing him carefully. “What about you? My gut says it's not new for you,” he asked. The young man didn’t know who this man was, the name meant nothing to him. If it wasn’t about Ista he didn’t know it, heck he didn’t always know about Ista either. His focus had always been his family, fishing, and having his fair share of fun. Nothing else was really on his radar.

[Zen]

Kisoraz

“Sooner rather than later, I hope,” Kizoraz withheld a sigh at the other man’s words. Hard to imagine… and getting harder the more time passed. He only had a short few turns left to stand and Mavros had just lost one of their golds, which meant fewer clutches before he aged out. But hope wasn’t lost for him yet, so he shook his head slightly to shake off those thoughts and glanced back down at his sketch as the new candidate mentioned it. “Indeed. Dragons are my favorite subject and a Wing in motion is like a living rainbow. I’ll paint them later… inside where it’s….” He frowned, about to say warmer, but that was hardly true. The caves were marginally warmer, he supposed, out of the wind blowing in from the sea, but hardly the comfortable temperatures he was used to in Mirran where the caves were all well crafted and well heated. “Less windy,” he finally finished, and sighed again at the change in living conditions he was now forced to endure.

“Well met, Dorvlo,” he responded as the other candidate offered his own name, looking up at him to get a decent look at his face. His father had taught him that lesson. When someone introduces themselves, always look them in the eye and repeat their name out loud to better remember it in the future. People appreciated being remembered. He was a fisher, an incredibly Mirranese craft, but he’d watched several fisher candidates back in Mirran Impress browns for themselves and wondered if there was any correlation. He supposed fishing required a certain amount of patience, which seemed to indicate a solid or steady individual, which was, stereotypically, associated with browns. Perhaps Dorvlo would prove a decent friend and ally to him, then, should he also Impress brown.

Kisoraz laughed softly, “It seems your gut is quite intuitive.” He stood, picking up the leather shoulder bag on the ground at the chair’s side and flipped his sketchbook closed, sliding it safely into the bag before shouldering it, “I was born in Mirran to dragonriders. All my siblings have Impressed, save one, and only because she is too young yet to stand. It is in my blood.” He had never thought it particularly prudent to name drop who his parents were, not with the mission his father had given him. It would make little sense for the weyrleaders of Mirran to send one of their children to Mavros, wouldn’t it? Not without some ulterior motive, which there was. “How are you liking living in a Weyr so far? Is it much different from where you came from? I’ve not much experience outside of Weyr life.” And he was mildly curious about it. His trip to the wedding gather in Jask had been an entirely new experience for him. He’d never been to a Hold before that. He’d never even been to the outer reaches of Mirran, outside the Weyr proper where the vast majority of Mirrish made their residence.

roz

[roz]

Dorvlo :: Candidate

"Well said." Dorvlo offered. He would wait as long as it took or until they tossed him out on his ear for a dragon. He of course had no idea the trails this fellow had been through but he imagined waiting turns on the sands might be disheartening. He had heard of the death of a gold just before his arrival so he was trying not to get his hopes up too high. But he wanted a dragon with everything he had. He wanted to help protect people and he couldn't do that as a fisherman now could he?

He was in fact trying to get a better look at what the other man was drawing but didn't want to intrude on his personal space. "A living rainbow. Hmm, I like that. It is poetic. I can't draw anything. Now if you need a knot tied I'm your guy." He said. He held no shame for his status and was confident in the skills he did have. He was very good at what he did. He didn't judge others for theirs. He grinned slightly at the other man's frown. " Not a fan of the weather here huh? Can't say I blame you. It tends to be a bit warmer where I'm from. Still this beats a trawler on the high seas."

The way his new found mate spoke told him volumes but it was all circumstantial. He was likely high born and in another life they would never cross paths but here they were. Two young men, candidates, both sharing a common desire. "Of course." He replied to the greeting. If there was a more proper response he did know what it was but he let their eyes lock likely for different reasons than Kizoraz himself. "Yeah my mother used to say that too. So I listen to it often." He confirmed grinning.

He listened as Kizoraz spoke. His words held more than one might think but Dorvlo was pretty sharp when it came to people. "In your blood. No pressure right?" He said imagining that there was likely a ridiculous amount of pressure really. "I can't say I know much about anyplace that isn't Ista but rumor has it Mirran is nice. I would like to visit it someday." He said thoughtfully.

"The weyr? Truthfully, it's taking some getting used to. I'm rather used to small or damp living quarters depending on whether I'm on land or sea. This place… it's huge and busy. Very different from home. Hmmm, I'll adjust." He said but paused at the last bit, something close to a wicked grin finding his lips. "Not much experience outside the weyr? Well my friend we need to do something about that. You know so you can be a well rounded rider when the time comes. Tell me what you would like to know first?" He said. Oh Dorvlo knew all the ways to have fun outside a weyr and he'd be glad for company exploring ways to have fun here.

[Zen]

Kisoraz

”Now if you need a knot tied, I’m your guy.”

Kisoraz laughed, replying goodnaturedly, “I’ll keep that in mind.” It was such a niche skill, he couldn’t imagine what anyone outside of a seacrafter would need it for, but at least he knew someone if the need ever arose? Unlikely as it was. He shook his head lightly, dismissing the thought as Dorvlo continued about the weather. “Mm… Mirran has plenty of cold weather, I’m just not used to it being so cold even inside.” He couldn’t help but cast a quick, distasteful look back into the cavern where the candidates were housed. Mavros was downright barbaric in comparison to Mirran.

The mention of the sea brought his attention back briefly, before his bright gaze shifted again, out to the water, “I’ve only read about life at sea. Mirran is right on the Azov, but it isn’t exactly the same to sail, if what I’ve read is correct…. I imagine it must take a certain amount of courage.” He offered Dorvlo a small smile at that, “Which is certainly something a rider requires.” He tilted his head slightly, curious, “Did you ever have to sail through a Fall? I think the methods with which sailors deal with such a situation are quite ingenious.” From all his reading, it really never was very surprising when seacrafters Impressed browns. If any craft helped at all to prepare someone for a life fighting Thread, he couldn’t imagine any that did more than the seacraft.

”No pressure right?”

“Oh, none at all,” he laughed again, shaking his head. More pressure than he could know, but Kisoraz wasn’t about to go into that. He’d prefer not to think about it as it was. There was too much failure behind him, he could hardly blame his father’s doubts or desire to send him away. It was embarrassing to say the least. But he could redeem himself here… if only his bronze would finally find him. It had to be a bronze, or what had he waited so long for? It had to be a bronze, or there would be no redemption, not where his father was concerned.

A wistful sigh escaped his lips as Dorvlo said he’d like to visit Mirran one day, saying that it was rumored to be ‘nice’. What an understatement. Is that all the rest of the world really thought of his home? Of course, he supposed, if everyone knew how much better it was, then everyone would want to live there, wouldn’t they? Was Mirran’s greatness such a secret on purpose? Shells, but there really was so much he didn’t know about the world outside of Mirran. He was finding his own lack of knowledge somewhat disturbing. He felt like he should know more than he did.

Well, he was getting quite thoroughly distracted now, wasn’t he? He offered Dorvlo another smile, “I hope you do get to see it. I suppose I haven’t seen enough of the rest of the world yet to say, but… it is my honest belief that there is no place on Pern more beautiful.” He really did miss all the art. There was so much of it everywhere, he could walk the same halls thousands of times and still see something new each time he passed by. He’d never known until he left how much he took it for granted.

A brow rose in slight confusion at Dorvlo’s estimation of living in the Weyr. Huge and busy? Mavros? The population of Mavros seemed absolutely paltry to Kisoraz. Dorvlo had mentioned Ista… surely the much more established Hold was just as bustling as this tiny Weyrhold? Or perhaps he lived on the outskirts rather than in the heart of the Hold? Or were other places on Pern really just not anywhere near as populous as Mirran? He’d read about them but he couldn’t know for sure, really. Jask had seemed quite busy, but that was also during a wedding gather so perhaps not the best time to judge. The invitation to have his many questions answered had Kisoraz rubbing his chin thoughtfully on just what to ask first. He considered the fact that Dorvlo himself had admitted to not knowing much about anywhere but Ista, so he would need to compare the man’s answers with others who had been elsewhere to get a full picture.

“Mavros has a rather distinct lack of… well… to be blunt, culture. I understand Mavros is still quite young so I am hoping it is only for that reason. Is there much in the way of artisan craftwork in Ista? In Mirran it is everywhere, carvings adorn walls and doors and even furniture and there are so many colors, paintings and weavings…. Is this common in Ista as well, or does it similarly lack… color?” He had nearly said character, but didn’t want to come off rude, even if it was what he really meant. Color seemed a safer choice of words, if less accurate.

roz