0001-03-28 - Eggs for Breakfast?

It's early in the day, and L'marin and V'riad are in the living cavern, for whatever reason. Breakfast, most likely, but that's the setup, because Miya just needs to be able to identify where her brother is and - unless he's doing something insane (like on-fire or something) - trots right on up to him to ask, "Are you busy?" Assuming V'riad is somewhere nearby, she flashes a quick smile that kinda intends to apologize for blurting into whatever, but she's still doing it anyway.

L'marin is not doing anything insane and he's not currently on fire or anything. Instead, he's regaling V'riad with a truly fascinating story that involves a lot of giant hand motions and big, explosive laughter. "And if that wasn't bad enough? Then she ---" but whatever she did gets unspoken as Miya materializes out of nowhere, leaving L'marin leaning all the way back until he's threatening to spill right out of his seat. There's a pointed look to V'riad that speaks lengths - whatever this story was about, V'raid is not to inform Miya.

"For you?" he puts on his brightest smile up to his sister. "Always." It's a thing that he does, he doesn't mean it.

V'riad doesn't even have a torch handy. Which is too bad, he might need it. "Yeah?" he's saying to L'marin, next thing to gullible: not necessarily buying all of it but wanting to. And when Miya shows up -- sure, fine, no spilling his wingsecond's beans, but also no going anywhere. He'll just, uh, drink some klah. And steal some more bacon.

(And not pretend he's not right there listening.)

In fact, "Hey."

"Hey," chases the sorry-not-sorry smile and answers V'riad, then Miya dials up the wattage on the smile to turn it upon L'marin. "Great," that he's busy. "Who are you? Who is this guy?" Before she gets cracking on with whatever imposition she's come to demand. "One of the Wing people?" It's not a criticism, the way she asks it, just like... is he cool or do they need to have this conversation somewhere else? She also eyes V'riad in much the same way, nothing personal.

L'marin leans back towards the table, plopping an elbow down onto it as he cants his head in V'riad's direction. "It wouldn't even matter if I really was," he stage whispers to V'riad, but there's familial fondness in the smile that he appears as he shakes his head and returns his attention to Miya. "V'riad, meet my sister, Miya. And yes, he's one of those Wing people," he says that latter part to Miya, brows climbing with an amused expression. But he'll at least let V'riad make with the rest of the introductions.

V'riad's got a brother in his life, plus more that aren't; he can nod solemnly, all yeah, I know what you're talking about. "Miya. Well met and all. L'marin, he's responsible for me," lucky man. And as long as the wingsecond's passed it on, "What're you doing here?" It's not a complaint, the way he asks it, just: what is she doing here, in this really hot (and not cool) part of the world.

Miya may or may not realize this is the purpose of V'riad's question, her immediate, here-and-now response given in an unwinding tone. "Talking to my brother?" Like, isn't it obvious what she's doing here and er...? She shoots a look to L'marin, who has just been dubbed responsible for V'riad, lucky go-between. "If you do something stupid, he's in trouble for it?" Not that it sets gears turning immediately, but the filing away of that information is almost visible behind her eyes.

With a sudden sharpening of focus back on L'marin, "This conversation is getting way off track. Are you busy?" Collective you, now, both dragonriders favored with a smile she dredges up from somewhere but that admittedly isn't completely convincing.

There is the most sage of nods given when V'riad says that L'marin is in charge of him - yes, yes he most certainly is that, and thus L'marin squares his shoulders and to make himself look so /very/ responsible. Then shoves a piece of bacon in his mouth. "She followed me here," he says around that mouthful, managing not to spit pieces of bacon everywhere since he's chewing and talking simultaneously. "All the way from Fort, it's true. Something about how her life would be utterly boring without me around to mix things up," he flashes a bold grin at Miya, though he narrows his eyes afterward at Miya's response to L'marin's so-called responsibility over V'riad. "I know what you're thinking," he warns her, flopping another piece of bacon in her direction.

But the subsequent sharp focus has him frowning as he shoves that bacon in his mouth too. There's no answer to her question, just another one thrown her way: "What do you want?"

"That explains a lot," says V'riad helpfully, followed by, "Pretty much," and, to L'marin, "Did she. What an adoring sister. Also capably well-traveled. Should I know her from there?"

Miya gets an expectant look, along with a whispered, "He doesn't know what you're thinking."

Ignoring the byplay - she's got a mission, boys - Miya confirms, "He does, though." Know what she's thinking. And it forces her to assume her most wheedlesome tone, the you know you want to one that got all those kids on those PSAs in trouble in the eighties, when she continues, "Just let's gooooo, it's nice there, the sun will be shining." Yeah, she shoots a look to the exit, where the sun is almost definitely blazing overhead, ahem. "And the beach will be nice. And we're definitely going to catch one this time. Or two."

Hi, V'riad. She smiles his way abruptly; "Or three!"

"I don't know, should you?" L'marin says to V'riad of knowing Miya from there, before he cants his head in the direction of his sister once more. There is a large, soul-suffering sigh that he exhales at all her begging, holding up his hands in surrender. "All right, all right. I'll take you back there," he acts like this is LITERALLY KILLING HIM, considering how he heaves himself out of the seat, groaning all the way.

"She found an island with some eggs on it," he tells V'riad on his way up, "Weird little eggs. You wanna come?" You know you wanna, V'riad.

V'riad is clearly taking after his wingsecond because, after some looking back and forth (siblings; exits), he sighs too. It isn't as immense, it doesn't bear as much suffering, but that's probably because a, he hasn't had the example before him long enough and b, he doesn't have a sister. In his life, anyway. He probably has plenty of the other type. "I suppose." Because L'marin's twisting his arm over there with all those groans, groans that the younger rider dispenses with as he gets set in relative silence.

Short-lived silence. "Though we just had breakfast," and what else is a man supposed to do with eggs?

Outside, Djarith, he of the many naps (that sun, that almost definitely blazing sun? it's all for him), is excited.

Certainly, "It's got way more than eggs on it." Miya doesn't even stop to argue about how they're not those kinds of eggs, V'riad. She starts pulling on L'marin by the shoulders, it's time for him to get up now, stop throwing bacon at her, on his feet, and then backing toward the bowl. "I'll meet you outside in five minutes." She holds up five fingers, guys, count them, then rushes off.

She'll be back in five minutes, count them, with two butterfly nets and a bucket. It's fine, she's completely sane.

"That doesn't mean there isn't room for second breakfast," L'marin tells V'riad sagely, before he's being pushed by Miya. How RUDE! He stops throwing bacon at her and tosses a biscuit off her head instead, before he makes a run for it to Brunuth. Despite L'marin's immense suffering, Brunuth is rumbling with excitement all his own, leaving L'marin to frown sternly. "Don't give her a big head. Last time we did this, it was a whole lotta nothing. Just weird eggs. And that ... glowy eye monster, but it's not like it stuck around for us to see it! Or be attacked by it. Or..." He trails off, all set to mount Brunuth when Miya comes running in with two butterfly nets and a bucket.

He blinks, then accepts all this with a shrug. "I call one of the nets," he stakes his claim and climbs aboard. "Brunuth will tell you the way," this is to V'riad.

Yeah, V'riad's not paid enough to keep track of minutes. "Absolutely," he tells his wingsecond. "That could have been our second breakfast," but no, L'marin's gone and used them for ammunition.

He still follows the taller man out, minus the running, though not too slowly; if he'd gone slowly, he wouldn't have heard about the, "Glowy eye monster. Seriously?" and what fun would that have been. Djarith snorts and stamps before, during and after his rider's getting mounted up; V'riad's pained, "Fine," might be acknowledgement of instructions, might be telling his dragon to settle the shard down. After a second look at Miya, he calls over, "She won't need to... will she?" with mimed barfing in the middle there. Because bucket.

While they are debating second breakfasts, Miya is trotting across the bowl from wherever she goes on these little five-minute-missions of hers with the aforementioned net and bucket. "Okay," she says with a derisive huff-laugh at L'marin's attempt to lay dibs to a net, holding all three of the tools up toward her brother from the ground at Brunuth's feet. "I need help, take the bucket that's not for barfing in," she heard that, V'riad, "and gimme a hand. This is taking a year already."

L'marin nods VERY SERIOUSLY to V'riad about the Glowy Eye Monster(tm). "It may or may not have been gigantic. It didn't stick around, I scared it off," he squares his shoulders to look very important and very strong, exactly like the kind of person that would scare off a weird glowy eye monster that may or may not have been gigantic. But he deflates the second Miya trots up to the both of them, groaning childlishly as she talks about taking buckets. "Give it to V'riad. Since you're not gonna puke in it," he tells Miya, and regardless of whether or not there's a bucket hand-off? He is going to grab her and drag her up onto Brunuth the second he settles himself onto his dragon.

"Let's go!" he announces, AND THEY SHALL BE OFF.

So seriously, V'riad might even believe him! Certainly he makes his own eyes get big if not strictly gigantic, all amazed and astonished if not glowy. Djarith's eyes are glowy, though; close enough? V'riad will even deal with the bucket if he has to deal with the bucket, seeing as how it hasn't already been puked in, and Djarith wings up close on Brunuth's heels. But not too close. Just in case.

Suffice it to say, Miya's dignity suffers in the process of climbing adragonback, and it suffers more when they do the leap-into-the-sky thing, and - even though she doesn't need the bucket tyvm - it suffers the most for the empty blackness between them and the lovely scenery on the other side.

Midmorning, with the ocean all dazzling below them, they emerge over the speckles of land near Keroon. The subtropics mean everything is all green and lush, even the tiny specks of islands clinging to bits of foliage. One island looks like enough to another, most of them so small that they're hardly worth notice, just a rock sticking up out of the sea, maybe a tree or something. A few of them are a bit larger, and the one that they're headed toward - that L'marin has already seen and Brunuth already knows - is little more than a single large hill with a tongue-like beach. Most of the island is rugged, steep jungle terrain. There's enough room at the top of the central hill for a conscientious dragon to effect a landing amid all the shrubs and sharp, volcanic rock, but then it's a hundred-yard hike down a path-less cliff to get to the beach below. Up in the rocks, there's little more than sherry nests and snakes and rodents skittering among the thorny foliage. The north-facing side of the island ends in a steep, sheer cliff that crashes down to frothy rocks in the dark ocean, tumbling into deep waters that boast a reasonable return for pearl divers. Down the steep slope on the south side of the island, there's a narrow strip of beach freckled with about three dozen palm trees and a healthy band of deep, dark brush. Pale sand forms a narrow strip of pristine beach sloping gently toward generally calm waters, partially protected by the curve of the island behind it. At the base of the hill, where a small stream of fresh water bubbles out of the dark rock and trickles to a pool before dribbling into the sea, there's a shallow cave that was - years and years ago - an improved structure. The stone still bears evidence of being worked, though the exterior wall was probably made of wood and has long-since vanished, so now it's no more than a large, slightly-improved cave to get out of the weather.

They can figure out how and where to land among themselves, she's not part of that conversation, either, except to tell L'marin over the wind, "We should check on the eggs first."

Once they return from between, appearing above the picturesque islands in the middle of the sea, Brunuth makes lazy circles down to the landing spot. Brunuth is nice enough to leave a spot for Djarith to land too - he's super generous! - and the bronze is quick to settle in the sun and streeetchhhhh out once everyone is on the ground. L'marin helps Miya down first (he doesn't even pitch her off the dragon!) and then hoists one of the nets over his shoulder when he drops down onto the rocks and sand.

"We're not here to see the cave," he tells V'riad loudly, and pointedly, with a chin-tilt in that direction. "That's what I thought she was bringing me here for the first time. But it's just a cave. Probably," he shrugs his shoulders, squinting a look around the island to try and remember which way the eggs were. The furrow in his brow suggests that he does not recall, which is why he nudges Miya in the shoulder. "Lead the way."

Djarith to Brunuth: an awfully cheerful << Bleah, >> emphasis on the sticking-out tongue. That's one way to remember an island.

As for landing, instead of subjecting his rider to that rocky downhill hike, as entertaining as it might have been, Djarith obligingly veers down to the beach... only either Brunuth didn't leave enough room for the young bronze, or he's just in that sort of mood, because he subjects his rider to a splashy landing half-in and half-out of the water. And not the convenient half, either. V'riad has a lot of clambering to do, if he doesn't want to get his boots wet -- make that, wetter; maybe the hike's looking better and better.

So V'riad catches up with the other two finally, and says, "No cave? All right," without grumbling... more than one would expect. If the bronzes are snickering, he's not admitting it. He eyes their fearless ringleader: carry on.

Miya doesn't even get pitched off the dragon, yay! For all her urgency at getting here, the trip took a bit of pep out of her step, and she hits the ground with a tepid, "There's a joke about boys-exploring-caves to be made," but she's not feeling up to making it right now. Instead, with a glance back at Brunuth - all these years later, and it's still weird to say thanks so she limits it to a look meant to convey gratitude - she thrusts a net out toward V'riad and the other toward L'marin. Gravely: "For when you see one."

Then she and the bucket (that's not for barfing in) march toward a little outcropping of rocks sheltered from the spray of the sea, where the sun hits it nice and brightly, where a little mound of dirt shows a few pale bits of eggshell - and a lot of signs of scrabbly movement by way of recently turned sand, tumbled stones and dried egg-and-bloody goo on the sand. Among the sand, the eggs are largely smashed and broken, their contents a feast for whatever found them. She'll find it out in a second here and be appropriately horrified.

Maybe Brunuth's rumbling is a thank you to Miya. Maybe it's not. She'll never know, and the bronze streeetches out languidly to enjoy his beach vacation whilst his rider goes tumbling down the beach on a hunt for red-eyed monsters and not-for-second-breakfast eggs. "What do you think, V'riad? Should we abandon my sister's fruitless searching for monsters and claim the cave as our own?" It's not quite a boys-exploring-caves joke, but L'marin seems to think he's HILARIOUS, which is why his laughter follows him alllllll the way to the broken eggs.

And then immediately gets stuck in his throat.

Any sense of the jovial, fun-loving bronzerider vanishes in that moment, his expression taking on a most dire sort. If he'd presented this as some sort of silly, non-serious adventure before? Well he's very, very serious now. In fact, he might look just a little devestated. "Oh, no. Miya, MIYA. Look."

His laughter follows him, and V'riad follows him, chuckling in his own right without more than an answer than that; this has gotten exciting. He's got a net. And so he's striding swiftly on L'marin's heels until he can crane around him and see... "What the shell?"

Miya, MIYA is looking! She's a few steps behind, height difference plus dramatic effect leave her lagging a bit, but three shadows fall across the eggs that are, sadly, all smashed up. "What the - " She clips it and lets V'riad's be the expletive that finishes the sentence, sure, letting the bucket clatter loudly to the ground behind her.

Without getting into the gory details, the clutch of eggs got eaten by wherries, and the remains on the sand make it clear that whatever was inside had developed enough to leave behind some identifiable remains, including a small bronze wing in the sand at L'marin's feet and a bit of blue tail by V'riad.

A scowling Miya shoots a dark-eyed look at the pair and mumbles, "Got any more wisecracks about breakfast in ya?"

There are wisecracks about breakfast scattered ALL over this beach, Miya, come up with your own material. L'marin isn't taking the bait though, because HE DOESN'T MAKE JOKES DURING SERIOUS TIMES. Also, he might be mildly afraid of his sister, considering how he holds up his hands in surrender. "Nope," he says simply, and then crouches down to inspect the broken eggshells, frowning to himself. "Is that... what is that?" he takes the stick-end of his net to poke right at the bronze wing by his feet. "If I didn't know any better..." He doesn't finish that thought. He doesn't know any better.

"Gross."

V'riad completely misses the blue bit in favor of looking at L'marin's, "Wing. It looks like a... that's horrible," as though it were an offense against not humanity but dragons which is worse. He's just starting to step closer when, at the last moment, he checks his footing and -- yeah, almost stepped on it, and now he's hopping on one foot so he doesn't step on anything else and cue more expletives.

Eventually, at least, he does put his foot down and stop.

It is, though. Gross. Bits-and-pieces that speak to what had been several wholes. Fortunately, they don't have to stand there gawk at the mess for all that long.

While he's not knowing any better, while Miya is nudging a toe at the remnant of a smashed and bloodied egg-shell, L'marin is the first to notice the small gold... let's just call it what it is at this point... firelizard that pops out of between just at the end of the outcropping of rocks. It happens very fast, her arriving in the air about eye-level off the ground, a few yards away, her wings outspread as if all set to dive down to the clutch of ruined eggs. She shrieks a hissing noise of surprise, her eyes whirling fast sparks of angry colors, and skims her dive away from the remains of her offspring and toward the three that stand next to the wreckage.

Miya chooses to duck and not think about what the goo is on the heel of her hand, though the firelizard is nowhere near her. Even before she can squeal out, "The net!" The pissed off little queen disappears into between again.