Book Learnin'
Who Reksler V'sri
What The brothers meet amongst walls of knowledge
When Spring
Where Library, Fort Weyr

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Fort Weyr - Library
Surviving the ages is something that books are known to do, especially if they are left untouched for just as long. In this room, that's exactly what has happened. Put aside as trivial information or simply determined old enough to not impact present day life, these numerous articles stored in ceiling high shelves are the forgotten histories belonging to Fort. Miraculously, the design of the room itself has prevented any of the books from damage. The rock base of which the room's foundation is actually one of the toughest rock known to man and cannot be surpassed by any creature living, while a layer of tiles of the smoothest stone gives this room a vibrant and mysterious appeal. The door itself on the room was sealed tight and allowed for a minimum amount of circulation, thereby preventing natural decay, although most articles may be brittle despite this. White marble has been used to create an insulating layer wall against the natural rock, giving the room an unnatural brightness and a enchanted atmosphere - while also giving it four distinct walls. The ceiling as well has been made smooth with an arching apex. As for the books and mounds of information stored in this vault of information, the organization is clear. Books bound with hard covers are kept alphabetical in the towering skybroom wood shelves, where step ladders and scrolling ladders actually attached to the shelves move to assist a person in selecting a volume. The shelves are ornately carved, many crafted with a mastery none have ever seen. Meanwhile, scrolls have a sectional shelf where each scroll based on how they were itemized has a cubical square into which they are kept in. This shelf alone has over a hundred squares in which the scrolls stick out of. As well, any loose bits of information have been assembled in files that are stored in boxes along the back wall. Apparently, recording history takes up vast amounts of space and every where one looks in this room one would find a wealth of information. The ancestors of Fort live here.


What has Reksler been up to in the time that he saw his weyrling brother last? Places. At least he was no longer stalking Carellos from the living cavern and was actually letting the poor man do his job without looking up to see an evil eye baring down on him. It's a little past supper when the harper can be found in the otherwise abandoned library, the aunties and uncles having shuffled off to their prospective beds leaving the one remaining soul here to fend for himself in peace. Honestly, Reks was in his element, surrounded by dusty old books and silence. He's discovered tucked away at small table in the back, with a stack of Earth related textbooks far more suited to someone as old as they are rather than someone still in their teens nestled beside him. The only sound echoing throughout the large room is the occasional turn of page, followed by more silence.

Trilling whistles cheerfully announce V'sri's entrance, though it's echoing oddly as he's laden with at LEAST ten heavy tomes. "Incoming! Watch out!" he calls as he bootybumps open the door. "I got, uh, words! Ha ha, it's not LIGHT READING! .. get it? Hoo!" Likely he doesn't expect any responses, since he ends up chuckling at his own joke enough for everyone. "Ahhh. I'm the best."

The second he hears the trill of that whistle, Reks closes his eyes and groans softly. So much for quietly reading until Carellos was off his shift. Closing his book, "Voss, this is a library." Hissed from the seclusion of his dimly lit corner, he tucks his book under his arm and rises out of the shadows like some fabeled creature of legend. It didn't even matter that he was the only one there to be complaining about the noise, it was the principal of the thing. Grumbling about the racket, Reksler makes his way over as if preparing to stop the bronzerider from destroying everything merely be being in this sanctuary of knowledge. A blink though as the rest of his elder sibling's words sink in and his eyes dart him for any books he might be carrying. "You're…reading…now?" he asks, looking dubious. "Could never get you to sit still for lessons…" Ironic.

"Oh hey bro," V'sri greets, releasing his stack to a one-handed cradling so he can execute a very, very ill advised wave. "Yeah, I kind of…whoa!" With a VERY WORRISOME WOBBLE, the books nearly take a tumble but for the quick reflexes of their packmule. "Sheesh! That was close, and some of these are, gosh, real old. But nah, we gotta do weyrling stuff and read and memorize this stuff, and since we got through these volumes, welp…" PLUNK! goes the pile as he drops his load on a tabletop, patting the top and pushing in the sides until every book is flush with the next. "I get to haul stuff. It's like my number one skill. Whatchu doing in here? I mean… whaaat are you dooooing?" He finally remembers to whisper, poorly, at the end.

Cue a long suffering sigh from the harper, which quickly morphs into a half-choked cry as his brother's enthusiasm nearly sends ancient tombs tumbling down. "Oh for crying out…stop!" Teeth ground against one another, he attempts to rescue the poor defenseless pile from V'sri as he tries to explain why they were in his possession to begin with. He nearly peels off his own skin as they are carelessly kerplunked onto a table, dragging two hands down his own face and along the neatly kept growth of his own facial hair. "Be. Careful!" More hissing and growling, giving him a none too gentle push away from the stack once they are settled and put himself between him and them. Upon hearing that V'sri was given the task of heavy lifting he gives him a long look, before dryly replying. "No doubt." One of the brows on Reksler's forehead twitches when he's asked what he was doing in the library, "Reading." As flat as his affect and tone was, he busies himself soon thereafter with thumbing through the titles that had been returned, trying to ignore the poorly delivered stage whisper.

"Reeeeeading whaaaaaaaat?" V'sri asks, still in a very VERY slim approximation of sotto voce. "These are flight formation books, and they've got lots of copies. Actually, they're all the same book if you look. One for each of us. So we don't gotta be careful. See?" And, to demonstrate, he lifts one up, brings it to his mouth, opens, and makes a threatening but gentle chomp on the spine of it. "Mmm, booky."

"Books." Reksler tosses back, apparently of no mind to explain anything without a thousand questions that lead to a very obvious response each and every time. However, none too soon after that he is bristling, "I don't care if its a book on common Pernese insects, they should be treated with…" he says with a building growl, if only to end up slapping his older brother upside the head for even pretending to put the poor top of the stack into his mouth, "What is wrong with you?!" Saving the book from the jaws of death, he strokes a hand over its cover and sets it carefully down atop the others. "If we weren't identical, I'd swear mum fostered one of us." Because there was no way they were of the same breeding stock. Huffing, he collects the stack and hurries it away from where the bronzerider can manhandle them more than he has aleady. Even if means making two trips. He might not be as…doughy…as he was before but he was no muscly dragonrider.

V'sri giggles in a positively WICKED way, the corners of his mouth pulling towards his doofy-ass ears in a jokeresque grin. "There's like 50 of these, bro, ease up. I'm pretty sure they've seen way weirder than the inside of my mouth. Nice grab, though, you actually got one on me." The hand, now pinching air instead of book spine, converts into a thumbs up. "Seriously, though, I'm taking an interest here. I'd like to know what you've been up to, what you're studying, what you're INTO nowadays! C'mon, it's been so friggin' long since we've lived in the same area. I mean, shards, you ain't even met Diqth yet, have you? OH, you'd LOVE him. He is SO much like you in a lotta ways, only cheerful. He's smart, and curious about things and how they work, and interested in lotsa stuff."

Reksler rolls his eyes celingward for the thumbs up, grumbling something or another under his breath on his way back from his second relocation trip, standing sentinel between his bumbling brother and the many books with their fathomless secrets. "No." Ease up? HA! Leaning his backside against the leather of a sofa's back, he crosses his arms over his chest and frowns slightly at V'sri. The rest of what the bronzerider had to say about the books he'd returned is ignored, and instead the harper focuses on the interest that was being given to is studies. That single brow launches upwards, the rest of his expression remaining grumpy and doubtful. "Why? You never seemed to care before." he says, managing not to sound bitter about it at least. "Your dragon changed you that much, did he?" Obstinate to the end, he snorts when he's compared to Diqth, jaw tightening and sliding his gaze off elsewhere. "Vossrik…" There is a very long, tired sounding sigh that soon follows all that exuberance, as if the older of the twins was draining all the energy meant for them both. "I'm specializing in Earth History, and I'm planning on writing a book on ancient forms of transportation and commerce to prepare for Journeyman status."

There's a brief pop of knees as Voss crouches to the ground before the sofa and rocks back on his heels. "Well bein' at the weyr and talkin' about…what happened-" The emphasis placed here is PRETTY OBVIOUS, accompanied as it is by a tumbling gesture of V'sri's hands, "-made me care about stuff I didn't before, y'know? And of COURSE I care about what you're doing. You're my brother, man. You're Reks. Duh, nerd. Plus Diqth's kinda made me think MORE about things. It's SO SO WEIRD!" A pause, a silent conversation evident in the bronzer's blanked eyes and held up finger. "See? I was just about to enthuse about my baby brother becoming a Journeyman and Diqth wanted to know if the transportation was faster or better than dragons or if he could fit on it, or maybe see it. He's a little shy, though. Maybe someday he'll talk to you proper-like. But that IS very cool, dude. I'm proud of you, y'know? And super super glad you're around. Not just 'cause it puts you in noogie distance." With real affection he swats Reksler's knee with his palm.'

Sliding his eyes back towards V'sri with the pop and lock of knees, Reksler continues to look at his brother with that raised brow, but this time in a long silence as he continues talking. About halfway through there is another rolling of eyes which does not improve upon the harpers pissy mood at all, but this is nothing new. "So you've said." The weirdness of dragons was not a new topic after all and continued to be one that did not seem to be enough of an explanation for Reks as to why he rarely got much out of his brother when he'd asked in the past about what was going on with him after regaling all of his own struggles to be noticed amongst his peers. Lashes lower as his gaze narrows for being called a baby, his frown deepening a degree. "I'm only eighteen, got a handful of turns before Journeyman." He gives V'sri a long look for the mention of dragony conversations, "I don't want your dragon or any dragon for that matter, in my head Vossrik." Eyes narrow further, "You try and noogie me and I'll give both of your 'mate a reason to mourn." A growl for this and deeper still for the swat to his leg.

There's not a swat but a rub this time, and V'sri grins like the doof he is. "Well if you ever get curious, lemme know. It's not like it's invasive, or like he's gonna have ALL your thoughts. It's more… like a conversation you don't gotta hear? At least for you. Me, though, I can't even rub one out without him being like 'hey hey hey'. Your choice, though. I'll let him know you're not down for the moment." He bounces a few times in place on his heels, resting his forearms on his knees and just BEAMING. "Serious though, you're gonna do great. I'm looking to get my j-manship once all the weyrling stuff dies down. Considering a thing about how dragonfire effects various alloys, but there was a girl here in my candidate class, Doktah, who I might work with on some ideas for rejiggering the heat registers. Idunno! I think you'd get on with her. She's real technical. Smart, like you, not too, uh, overbearingly enthusiastic like me, but gets real into her work and takes real pleasure in knowing things. She's good at computers. Not sure where she ended up after the hatching, though, and that's a dang shame."

The swat comes in the form of Reksler smacking that hand rubbing his knee, seeming a little skeeved out about those little affections now more than he'd been begrudging accepting in the past. "Hands to yourself, seriously." he hisses, tightly coiling his arms back over his chest and appearing just a fraction more huffy than he had been before. "I'm not ever going to be curious about mentally projected conversations, I don't care how invasive or not they might be." Pissy as he might be with that, he's back to bristling and downright annoyed a moment later with the self inflicted imagery that thrusts itself into his mind with the bronzerider's tactless comment about rubbing one out. "Oh for fucks sake, Vossrik!" Oh, the red hot displeasure of his glare just then and it lasts for much longer than that segment of the conversation does, taking quite some time to lower down in verocity enough for him to form words once again not laced with venom. "I'd imagine it'd effect them just like any sort of fire would, except maybe have the lingering after odor of whatever might be decaying between the teeth." Logic, does not escape the harper, that much is for sure. He does appear to be slightly more interested though when V'sri starts talking about Doktah, his irritation level visibly decreasing. "Try writing her? You do have a firelizard, don't you?"

V'sri shakes a finger, and tips his chin up, affecting a sort of uppity air. "Ah ah ah, that's where you're wrong. The intensity, temperature, steadiness, the type of metal, the density of the metal… all sorts of stuff effects what goes on there! YOU know words. I know shiny stuff." There's more than a slight note of pride in his voice for his one source of know-how. "Besides, I think there might be some difference to firestone that's mined from different parts of the world, and I am DYING to find out if I can test that theory. Oooh, yeah, Deathwing… uh she's not so much with the, uh, letter carrying, and more with the…fat-having." He coughs apologetically, then gestures towards the round bulk of his beloved pet. "S'pose I shouldn't carry her around so much and maybe she'll start flying more, but she's just so ding dang cute bein' fat."

The harper blinks a few times as V'sri starts prattling on about all things metal, his seemingly permanent sour expression smoothing out as both eyebrows lift towards the line of his hair. He might have to give his sibling credit for knowing his stuff about at least one area of the world, or at least using words sufficiently enough to give the impression that he does. He takes a breath with every intention to slap the bronzerider down to unintelligent level at which he was most comfortable keeping him if only to make himself feel better with the current state of things, if only for his mouth to remain hung open and wordless before acquiring the inclination to snap it closed, "Fair enough." he sighs, letting all the tension that'd built up throughout this unexpected meeting of the minds go with a rolling his shoulders. There is a twitch though as his brow levels out, "Deathwing? Seriously?" Again with the eyerolling, shaking his head this time but letting the absurd name go without further comment, chalking it up undoubtedly to this being just another quirk he'd have to live with. "I guess I can be thankful I don't have a neice or nephew named Deathwing or Counterstrike." he mutters under his breath, eyes soon flicking to overly rounded firelizard. "But she's useless this way, Voss." Leaning over, he gives the lump a poke with one finger.

"Leia named her 'cause I couldn't come up with nothin'," V'sri shrugs, letting out a guffaw as Deathwing leans up at the belly poke, cranes her neck, and gives Reks's finger a lick before falling back to sleep. "Besides, she's just kinda like this, and how do you tell a dragon type creature they need a diet, especially when they hide in the kitchens and give BIG WET EYES to the cooks?"

"Your girl named her that?" Reksler bawks, seeming taken aback before groaning softly, slapping a hand to the front of his face and dragging it downwards. "I guess my only hope lays with X'fyr then." Which, wasn't much better a prospect considering he had to keep telling the brownrider to stop staring at him all lovesick and pathetic now and then. Shaking this remembrance off, the harper rubs his freshly licked finger off on his pants, trying to play it off casual like rather than reveal how grossed out he really was. "I don't know, maybe let the kitchen know not to feed her if she comes around and slowly decrease how much you feed her? I've never had one, let alone a fat one."

V'sri nods, grinning sheepishly. "She's like that sometimes, but she's good, honest. She had… there were things in her past, and she kinda laughs to, y'know, feel better?" There's less grinning now, and more running his fingers through the short crop of his 'rider hair and chewing of the lip. "Oh you've talked to Xhan more? That's good. He mentions seeing you around sometimes and getting confused and all that, even if I cut my hair short. I think he's just stoked there's two of us. Better him than Leia. She gets handsy sometimes, but like I said, coping mechanism, though I told her to be a lil careful of your, um, personal bubble. Also nobody can sleep if 'Thwingie doesn't get her way. She lies in wait and then makes BIG FUSSES and hits you in the FACE with her WINGLETS and is all BEH BEH BEH HONK. Hey, if you want one, though, I can probably wangle it from, Idunno, someone. Th'ero maybe? Not sure. The eggs pop up now and again on the beaches and stuff, too, if you're patient. Promise, not all of them are as… um… unique as mine. Most of 'em are actually useful." Illustratively, Deathwing BELCHES.

Still with his arms crossed over his chest, Reksler allows them to be loose rather then tight, still a barrier between himself and his brother but at least not so much a pronounced one. "You don't need to explain it to me. You and yours got your things, me and mine got ours." He's just going to leave it at that, shrugging his shoulders lightly, "He's stopped running up to me and tackling me if that's what you mean. He kept trying to shove his tongue in my mouth before he learned to just stop really think about whether I was you or I was me." Grumble. Grumble. Shoulder roll. Huff. "I would appreciate no more your 'mates being all with the hands and the lips, preferably." A snort for this, and a grumbled, "Carellos is fortunate to get what he gets rather than a backhand to that stupidly smirky face of his." Grumble. Jerk. Grumble. Grumble. His eyebrows launch upwards in unison, "She assaults people if she doesn't get her way? Have you trained or disciplined her at all Vossrik?" There's another long suffering sigh complete with defeated expression that was just too wrapped up in pity to be as annoyed with the bronzerider as perhaps he would have liked. "I'm good. Care's got a firelizard and we share a room, so we're not away from one another long enough to warrant needing to pass messages between us. Besides, I can find my way to the kitchen if he's needed that urgently."

"Well I mean…I Impressed her while I was a candidate 'cause Inri had an extra egg she slipped me, and then I got Diqth and so mostly I carried her around and, y'know, gave her pets and food?" V'sri clears his throat far more times than necessary. "So um… no, not as such. She LOVES Diqth though, almost as much as I do, and I really love Diqth. Can't get enough." Can't get enough of that joke, either, when it comes to the player. "Carellos seems like a nice guy, though. He treatin' you good? I don't gotta make no threats of kneecap violence?"

Tilting his head to the side, Reksler listens pointedly without looking like someone pissed in his redfruit pie, nodding a few times as V'sri explains how Deathwing came to be a part of the bronzerider's troop. That is, until his dragon's name gets used so many times in the way that it is. "Vossrik!" he snaps, all relaxation that may have settled into him once he'd recovered from his brother's sudden entry into his dusty sanctuary, now ripped away from him violently in just that single few turns of phrase. So off kilter with the blush across his face and tension rapidly returning to his shoulders to show for it, the harper stares long and hard at his twin. Jaw tightening, his mouth closes from where it had been hung open and his arms tighten across his chest as he glares off elsewhere across the room. "He's very gentle, so don't kneecap him." While this was delivered just as snappy as he'd used the bronzerider's full unabridged name, a second later he seems to realize the implication of his words and flushes an even darker shade of red. "I mean he's fine! Leave him alone!" Oh, so very growly now.

"What?" V'sri blinks owlishly, tipping his head and squinting in infinite obliviousness. "Oh, the kneecapping thing?" Of course, Voss. That. "Nah, I wouldn't. He seems like a really nice dude, and I'm glad you got someone to balance you out a bit, lil stormcloud." The mother-given nickname is spoken with a lilt, but not a mocking one. "You need to smile more, guy. It's a good place here, and you've got good people around you. I worry about your mood a bit, y'know?"

Reksler glances back at his brother and once again, he's staring at him. Brows are soon working themselves into a knot, knitted towards their middle. "You really have no idea, do you?" While the redness of his face was quickly receeding, his mouth opens to explain, but is soon closing once again as he shakes his head and looks relieved instead. For about a second, snorting softly and letting his expression naturally darken with irritation, "I don't smile. Ever." And he doesn't, shoving himself up and off the back of the sofa where he had parked himself, starting to make his way back towards the books he abandoned in the far back corner before V'sri had appeared. At least he hasn't smiled since their father blew himself up, but he'd always been moody, even if it swung wildly from one to the other.

There's a certain synchronicity between twins: a look, a twitch, even a glower can say so much. "Dude? Neither did I until… well, here. So just give it time is all I'm saying. Don't gotta talk about it now, but do it sometime, or you're gonna blow a brain vein. I spent Turns with no friends, not talking to anyone but my Master, hiding, same as you prolly. No hiding forever, okay?" Groaning, V'sri pushes to his feet. "Crap, I was supposed to be back, like, an hour ago. Woops. Eh, nobody called for me, but I should probably hit the barracks again. Just, if you need somethin', come find me, 'kay?"

For a long time Reksler says nothing and unstopped he heds right to his shadowy corner and plunks himself right back down into it. He glowers and glares into it, heard only slamming something within that's probably a book. "Just…go." he starts with a growl, but it softens on the second word. He wasn't really angry with V'sri and he knew that, really. He waits for the bronzerider to vanish the same way that he appeared and maybe takes some time to cool his jets before getting back to studying.


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