[ prp ] Perspective (Ar’din/Iathe)

[medigel]

Finally, he could be alone again. His own weyr, his own space, and Alquemieth’s own ledge upon which to brood.

Naturally, this meant Ar’din spent half the time in his room sleeping and the other half sleeping. Not every other break hour or anything, but this bronzerider had been more than ready to toss the chastity belt for a while. Alquemieth might have his opinions on the quality of women he got with, but since when had Ar’din been a man of quality himself?

(< Always, > the dragon had said, fervent especially when ignored.)

Today he decided to invite Iathe down from what he could only assume was a cramped closet room, if the bitching he’d heard was any indication, and graciously opened his door to a friend. The space was still lacking a lived in feeling, but Ar’din hadn’t had many possessions when he arrived, and they had only been in their new places for a sevenday. The weyr had supplied his thick blankets for the winter, a few extra pairs of clothes and shoes, and a pillow, and he hadn’t really deviated from that yet. Not that he didn’t want to add some decorations, but they hadn’t exactly been on the top of his list of things to do. Namely because the list was of people to do right now.

Speaking of.

“Never had my own place before,” he admitted, arms behind his head as he gazed about the room. “Not sure what to do with it all.” Was he flaunting the big space in Iathe’s face? Maybe a little. But he was also open to suggestions.

If he had partnered with a chromatic, Ar’din would have done everything in his power to scare off any roommate from what he called his space. The barracks had been skating on the edge of his tolerance towards the last month, especially with Alquemieth growing increasingly judgmental of his peers, a feat he didn’t know could happen. Luckily the bronze wasn’t there, happy to be away from the weyr when His was being hormonal and to do something more worthy of his time than standing and glaring at human women.

While Alque had grown like a beanstalk, Ar’din had physically stayed mostly the same, though both had gained muscle mass through training. It wasn’t so obvious on his wiry frame to begin with, but he could feel a difference. His dark hair had grown out, though he was looking to cut it back again, adding to what feral charm he sometimes remembered he had. He had the same scars and avian tattoo, was more social (to the detriment of anyone who had to listen to him even in passing), and was less quick to the draw when it came to aggression. When Ar’din thought about it, however, he didn’t think of it as polishing a gem, as the bronze had put it. It felt more like he was letting himself get rusty. Less alert. It made him itch and chafe against some thing he couldn’t describe.

The urge to fight wasn’t unreasonable, Alque had said once. He too wanted to burn down the Enemy with a ferocity that couldn’t be limited by his capacity to show it. Imagine how they might pour their anger to destroy Thread. But it wasn’t the same.

Tsunake

 

[Tsunake]

In truth, Iathe didn't much mind her much smaller weyr. Was it luxurious? No. Was it livable with a few fixes? Absolutely. She didn't intend to spend much time in it anyway, save for sleeping, so what did she care if it wasn't on par with what bronze and goldriders got? With that said, she didn't hesitate to accept Ar'din's invitation, curious to see the differences for herself.

It certainly was spacious, and her blue gaze slid over the space appreciatively before cutting sharply back to Ar'din at his comments. "You've had plenty of company to fill it." She said idly, rolling her eyes at him before going back to looking over the weyr. "But if you're really that worried, you could get some furniture. Maybe some carpets. It'd make it seem more livable, at least."

Iathe was carefully not looking at Ar'din himself, per say. She herself had put on more muscle than she already had, making her stronger and leaner than she already was. But there was a definite--masculinity to him now that even she would be hard pressed to ignore. Iathe had told herself firmly that she had little interest in any such things, but there was no need to poke a sleeping tunnelsnake. Skerath snorted loudly in the back of her mind, not understanding. If you want him, take him. Who is he to tell you no?

That was almost enough to make her cheeks color, and she spun on the spot to glower at Ar'din. "So? What do you plan on doing, once we graduate?"

medigel

 

[medigel]

Ar’din made a noncommittal sound and shrugged. It seemed to be the answer for both her statement and her question. Although furniture meant having people stick around and get comfortable, and required marks he didn’t exactly have to get something decent...Though having something other than the bed and the dragon cushion would be nice...

“Fight Thread, obviously,” he supplied. Alque had plans beyond that regarding rank, but they still ultimately revolved around that simple idea. “M’I supposed to get specific?”

Tsunake

 

[Tsunake]

Her brows lifted at that, a snort escaping her before she could even think to stop it. "Obviously," She agreed, but she couldn't deny the thrill that ran through her at the thought of being up in the air, protecting her home from Thread with the one creature that loved her despite her flaws... Skerath said nothing, but silently enveloped her rider with all the trust and love she could. They belonged together, no matter what. She'd promised to tear the queens from the skies for Iathe, if she willed it, and she meant it.

A smile played on her lips, her eyes unfocused for a brief moment before her attention snapped back to Ar'din with a ferocious frown. "Of course you are," She scoffed. "You have a bronze who's clearly capable of taking charge and leading people well. You should be thinking about a Wingleader position, at the very least." What better way to make certain that things were done properly? Ar'din wasn't a stupid man, and his judgement was sound.

medigel

 

[medigel]

It was Ar’din’s turn to snort. “You sound like Alquemieth,” he said, in an attempt to make it sound like a disparaging comparison. There wasn’t much bite, though. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t had a conversation (or three thousand) with his bronze about that, especially knowing at some point or another they might get tapped to shadow a wingleader or their second later down the line. The more it got brought up, the less inclined he became. There was a difference of opinions. (Of facts.)

“Little early for that stuff, don’t you think?” he said. “Isn’t practically every bronze after rank anyway? I’m in no rush.”

Tsunake

 

[Tsunake]

Iathe pursed her lips with irritation. "No, it's not." If anything, now was the perfect time to be thinking, planning, assessing their fellows and those who came before. "Most riders are after rank for the perks," She dismissed with a wave of her hand. "I doubt even a quarter of them could properly lead, if it came down to it." Which was all the more reason for Ar'din to step up. Oh, she had no doubt that the Weyrleader would analyze each and every potential candidate before appointing them to a position of leadership, but giving less than your all was almost criminal, in her mind.

"You need to establish now that you're someone that can be trusted to lead us during Threadfall." She finished, focusing on him intently once more. "Why wouldn't you?"

medigel

 

[medigel]

He dropped his arms and met her gaze. Iathe sounded serious. It made him curious, and also wary.

“Why me?” he asked. “I’m the least jackass idiot of the bunch, sure. But that’s nothing special or hard.”

Tsunake