Stairway To Heaven (OPEN)

[Mason Nighith]

Time and Date:: Early afternoon January 4th

Weather:: Sunny and Cold

Previous Threads?:: Simple Pleasures

Mason flipped the hammer in his hand as he admired his handiwork.  The new set of stairs going to main door of this Berk home were finally finished.  Sindri stood by, never one to really take a day off if Mason had to help his father.  Mason tossed the hammer in the air.  Sindri immediately snapped his head toward the tool and caught it deftly. Placing it in a saddle bag attached to his saddle, the dragon followed Mason as he began to walk away.

"I think we deserve a treat, Sin." Mason announced.

The Nadder's eyes narrowed at his laid back rider.

"What?  You were a great help, Sin." Mason assured the reluctant dragon.

Further into town, Mason went into a shop and carried out a bag.  A treat for himself and his companion.  Sitting on a bench, he pulled out the dried and seasoned fish that he knew his dragon loved so much.  Even Mr. Sourpuss himself couldn't resist a good mood while chomping on one of these.

True to Mason's suspicions, Sindri perked up at the smell, then sight.  Chirping slightly as Mason tossed it to him, the dragon tucked in.  Mason himself sat on a near bench and watched Sindri enjoy for a moment before digging into the bag for his own treat.

[Natascha Falkenberg]

Tascha gave the storekeeper a small smile as she gently lowered the heavy box to the ground, covering up a wince of pained exertion. 
"Thank you so much, Natascha," the old man warbled, bending over the box and checking its contents. "These old joints aren't quite what they used to be, you know."
Tascha blinked at the sound of her full name. Only people she didn't know called her that, and though her odd jobs usually didn't involve any of her limited circle of acquaintances, she still wasn't quite used to it. It sounded... foreign, somehow, like somebody else but not her.
"Miss…?" the old man asked, confused, waving his hand in front of her face. Tascha blinked and shook her head to clear her misbehaving thoughts. The shopkeeper was holding the money out toward her, waiting for her to take it. He'd probably been like that for the past minute, at least.
Before Tascha could forget, she took the money from the shopkeeper. "Thank you, sir! If you need anything else, just let me know!" she said, smiling at him one last time before backing out in an embarrassed hurry and nearly knocking over a shelf on her way out the door.
Well, that certainly could've gone better, Tascha thought, disgruntled by her own absent-mindedness yet again. It wouldn't be so much of a bother to her if she didn't do it so damn often, but as it was, she was a bit pathetic.
When she resurfaced from her thoughts the second time, she had nearly run into a bench.
Correction: a very-much occupied bench, guarded by a thankfully-not-too-large dragon.
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't see you... both..." She looked back and forth between the brown-haired boy and his Nadder, eventually settling for backing away in such a way in that the bench was between her and the dragon, but she could still observe the beautiful creature.
Ahh, dragons… if only they weren't so dangerous, Tascha thought dreamily, staring happily at the Nadder.

[Mason Nighith]

“Hi,” Mason said, his tone friendly. He knew who this girl was. They had grown up at about the same time, though Mason had always been older and “too cool” to hang around younger kids. He thought maybe she was three or four years his junior and knew that, as a teenager, that was a pretty big difference back then. Not so much now.

He knew little about her. She had always lived just outside of the village and her family wasn’t too sociable with the rest of Berk. He knew her father was dead, but not much else about her.

Mason was also not too proud of the snotty teenager he had been. He had never really been a bully, but he certainly hadn’t taken the time to get to know or make others comfortable. Once he found a goal and a dragon though, Mason grew up fast. He learned that the attitude that kept shier or different people at bay had no place in life. He now made an effort to befriend everyone and treat them with respect.

“No worries.” He said, good naturedly after the girl apologized. Sindri could be serious, but he wasn’t rude, especially to those who meant no harm. He made a small affable rumble in his throat toward the newcomer.

“Want some?” Mason asked, offering the pastry he had been enjoying while dusting off his hands of sugar. He was kicking himself for not remembering her name. Natalia? No, that was close, but not right. Nadia? He was sure it began with an ‘N’.

[Natascha Falkenberg]

The boy's kind reply, and his dragon's gentleness, caused Tascha to breathe a sigh of relief. Her shoulders visibly relaxed. She didn't need any more sideways looks for her absent-mindedness, and thankfully neither boy nor dragon seemed put off by it. 

However, upon a second look at the boy, Tascha realized that he was neither a boy nor a stranger, as she'd first thought. First, he was more of a young man, though his height while sitting wasn't obvious, he was clearly as tall as her, if not taller. Second, and most important, she did know him, if only just enough to remember his name and a vague sense of distance she'd felt from him and his friends during her years at school. 


"Want some?" he asked, proffering his admittedly-delicious-looking pastry. 

Ignoring her watering mouth, Tascha shook her head faintly. "Thank you for the kind offer, but I must refuse." She took a moment and checked the length of the shadows to make sure she wasn't running late for her next meeting before deciding that she could afford to spend a few minutes catching up with this old acquaintance. I've got few enough friends, she thought. I could bear making another. Besides, he seems friendlier than I remember.

With that, Tascha removed her staff from where it was strapped to her back and sat on the bench next to Mason, smiling lightly at him and his Nadder, who was tucking in to a dried treat himself.


"So I see you've become a full-fledged Dragon Rider, Mason," Tascha said, leaning her staff against her shoulder. "What's your dragon's name? What kind of work do you two get, now that we're in peacetime and all?"

[Mason Nighith]

Mason glanced back down at his pastry. It was the best thing the baker made. Blueberry paste on the inside with a sweet almond sprinkle on the outside. They never lasted and were often long gone before the morning was out. The refusal of a bite of such a treat was odd to him and probably meant that this historically shy girl was still very standoffish.

"So I see you've become a full-fledged Dragon Rider, Mason,"

DUNG!

He had hoped that she couldn’t remember his name either. Alas.

Her way of speaking was not very conversational either, as if she wanted to remain formal. Formality? In Berk? Mason chuckled inwardly.

Mason sighed, trying to stall, “Admittedly, not much.” He told her, grasping through his mind for her name. Definitely started with an ‘N’.

“This is Sindri.” He introduced his partner who heard his name and stopped chewing mid-mouthful.

“There are always the small problems. Marooned ship, dangerous dragon that need to know where their territory ends, checking out trade ships early to get the good stuff before it hits another island.” He went on.

“I also help my dad with some odd jobs.” He had been an apprentice carpenter after all and knew a lot about it. And as Nostalgia (nope, that wasn’t it) observed, they were in peacetime and dragon riders had less to do. “He says I should hang up my saddle and take over the business, but that’s a bit too provincial for me.”

“How about you?” He asked, taking another bite of his carb infested pastry, “What keeps you busy and brings home the mutton.”

[Natascha Falkenberg]

Mason finished describing the work of a Dragon Rider and added, "I also help my dad with some odd jobs. He says I should hang up my saddle and take over the business, but that's a bit too provincial for me."
Tascha laughed in understanding and secret delight - Mason didn't seem to take offense to her vocabulary, unlike most Vikings, and in fact seemed to possess one of a similar caliber, if "provincial" was anything to go by. "I can definitely understand how taking up business and "hanging up the saddle" so relatively soon after becoming a dragon rider would be rather unappealing," she said, still smiling in amusement at the thought.
"How about you?" he asked, catching her off-guard. "What keeps you busy and brings home the mutton?"
Dammit, she thought, I should've known he'd ask that, too.
"I actually just graduated this past year. I… well," Tascha stalled, twiddling her thumbs, "to be honest, I'd like to be a philosopher or an artist, but I know well the perils associated with such 'low-class' jobs, so I stick to odd jobs for now, too. I'm only supporting myself, though, so it's not a bad life."
She paused, recognizing that she was treading awfully close to thin ice, and abruptly changed the subject away from anything that could eventually lead to her family. In all fairness, she did want to know about his bond with his dragon, Sindri, so she turned to that topic for safety.
"I presume the snacks are a reward for something? If anything, you two are known as quite the hardworking pair," she asked, raising an eyebrow at the still-delicious-looking sweet and only halfheartedly masking her interest. She hadn't lied about being able to support herself, but her budget didn't allow for as many sweets as she'd like, which only make it seem that much more appealing to her sweet tooth.