Logs:Isyath & Adiulth's Eggs
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| RL Date: 8 December, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, Ali, N'rov, E'ten |
| Involves: Fort Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Everyone is looking at eggs; Brieli visits for the same. The conversation is wide-ranging. |
| Where: Galleries, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 18, Month 6, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions |
| It's a warm summer's afternoon, and most of the Weyr's occupants are making use of the weather and enjoying the lake. The galleries aren't as busy as they normally would be the day after a clutching - probably because it's twice as warm here, and there's no water to provide relief. Ali's settled on the lowest tier of the galleries, in a light summer dress; a stack of hides at her side, and a pot of slowly cooling tea. Isyath, pointedly, is nowhere to be seen on the sands, though if one looks directly upwards she can be seen circling far overhead - never one to pass up an opportunity to enjoy warm thermals rising up above. The eleven eggs, scattered in a haphazard pile on the sands, look almost dwarfed by the size of the hatching caverns. It's probably the worst time of the Turn to have eggs on the sands. Maybe it's something that many a goldrider has thought of in the past. It's certainly something that E'ten's come to consider, bringing a tray of food and another pot of cool drinks. Though the voice that addresses the air is more for someone who casts a shadow overhead before taking up position on the hatching ledges. Looking down like a good papa, it's not keeping the amusement out of the bronzerider's voice as he remarks, "I would think that she needs time to stretch her legs.. wings, Adi. It's not like she won't be here again today." He hopes. While being fully forewarned, he tries to squish that idea - that she won't, far below other things as he makes his way down the row with a growing smile. "If I had known you brought tea, I wouldn't have asked the kitchen staff for anything different." Gesturing with the tray, raising it higher in offering by a slight means, he adds, "Thought you might be hungry. Adiulth's up there on the ledges looking down." Coincidence! N'rov's just now showing up, walking quite a length behind E'ten: deliberately, quietly, though even distance might not fully disguise the slap of sandals and the glug of some drink or other in the canteen slung over his shoulder. He's got a smirk, too, though at least /that's/ hidden by his other accessory: an outsized, woven fan. In the warm Fortian skies, there's the sudden blink into existence of a large, sunny gold; Iesaryth calls out a greeting that's not just meant for Elaruth too, but Isyath above, /flying/. Much better than the sands - good for her! She makes a lazy arc around the freed Fortian queen before landing near the hatching caverns. Guess what she's here to look at! Or her rider, more accurately, who strides into the galleries not too much later, bottle in one hand, dark gaze sharpening as her eyes adjust to the light. "Headwoman Shevena brought it," Ali admits, with a smile at E'ten. "She and her staff keep me well stocked with tea while I'm out here- I think because they know it'll make me need to go to the toilet, so at least get me out of here a number of times during the day." Not that the junior's spreading any conspiracy theories or anything, no. There's a momentary shake of head, forestalled, like she's far too polite to refuse the offer of food. "Thank you," she murmurs instead, gesturing to a spot next to the tea where he can put it. Then, with a brief tip of head - not that she can see the ledges from here - "I'm surprised he's not down on the sands. He can, you know- Issy isn't bothered, and the eggs could probably use some attention. I have to remind her to pay attention to them." Because she's looking upwards, she misses N'rov's arrival at first, but when she looks back, she sees that- fan?- with a bemused look. There's nothing protective - at least not in Isyath's case - at the foreign queen's arrival, given she's probably well used to it by now. A fleeting shower of stars is sent towards Iesaryth in return, her lazy circling path continuing. Where else would she be, but up here, as always? Once the ocean's washed in, once it's reflecting star showers on the waves until the sun brightens and sparkles, Iesaryth will reach out to Vhaeryth, warm and pleased. « Surprise. » Even if it's maybe not, really. (Iesaryth to Vhaeryth) "I don't think he's ever thought about it," E'ten replies, catching the shake of Ali's head but wisely saying nothing as he sets the tray beside the tea before taking up a seat beside both. To show that the message has been relayed, Adiulth launches carefully from the ledge to backwing a distance away from the eggs with quickening blues to otherwise content eyes. He's just the cautious one. Not to get too close while his rider says that it's alright. However, the bronzerider catches the bemused expression before looking over to the fan and then the pair of legs that belong to it. "I'd dare say that's a handy idea there." /There/ she is! He can see her, even, from his high, sunning spot: it isn't even snowing! « He, » the bronze mentions, « hunts Adiulth's. I have not told him. » In case her rider's inclined to surprise. (Vhaeryth to Iesaryth) N'rov's a fan, yes. He catches both glances enough to tilt its fronded tips in the clutchparents' direction, afterwards moving down the row a couple tiers higher: a discreet amount of room, as much as any man might give overseers of a particularly large and sandy cradle, though these eggs aren't as apt to lapse into wails too soon. It's the first time he's visited after the initial laying-and-gambling, and if he's spotted the added visitor, there's no evidence of that. Yet. Star showers reflect in the rolling tide, until the sun on them is bright enough to sparkle. Where else should Isyath be, indeed. She imagines skimming the tops of snowy mountains, but only briefly; she's distracted by the second-hand view of the eggs - maybe the younger gold is less protective, but her dam? Not so much. Inside, when Brieli can finally sort out who's in here and if she knows them, the goldrider flashes a smile on approaching for the lot of them, though it's wider for one of the bronzeriders. Go figure. Bu it's to E'ten and Ali that she offers, "Congratulations, and Reaches' Duties." Like a real weyrwoman! And to Ali that she offers the bottle of wine, a nice enough one as these things go. "I think they look good, but I'll need a moment." Once she's able to take in N'rov a little ways up with his fan, "For me? So thoughtful." Her gesture is clear; make with the fanning. Bright eyes are the only indication she's kidding. To Vhaeryth, Iesaryth will join Vhaeryth, if he doesn't mind... but she's already launched into the air to find that spot; watching from above is good, with the bronze even better. « What will he do with Adiulth's? » Something entertaining, she hopes. If not, that's all right too. Just less /fun/. Half turning to watch Adiulth approach the eggs, Ali doesn't appear concerned- just curious, a little smile appearing at the bronze's cautiousness. She doesn't immediately reach for the food, polite or not, likely as not due to N'rov's work with the fan, twisting in her seat to stare at him with a mixture of incredulousness and hilarity. "What," she's laughing, all of a sudden, "Are you planning to do? Sit there all day? Actually- that's not a bad idea- maybe I can talk to N'muir?" she's joking- surely. Perhaps thankfully, before she can get too far along that train of thought, she notices Brieli's arrival. "Fort's duties," she returns, in kind, then with a proud smile, "Thank you. Although- given the lack of attention, maybe congratulations should wait /until/ they hatch?" She looks surprised by the bottle of wine that's offered, and after only a tiny hesitation, reaches to accept the bottle from Brieli with a smile. "That's very thoughtful of you, thank you." "Thank you," E'ten remarks kindly to Brieli though it's on the heels of laughter as Ali's comment just makes the entire arrangement even more funny to him. Looking to the fan, he tilts his head to one side before idly commenting, "You know if you do get pulled for fanning, I'm going to wonder if it's a ploy to get out of wing duties. Or it's a good costume for later now that I think on it more." Almost considering, he does gesture to the benches for both arrivals. "Join us, if you want. And with Adiulth down there, they should be alright. Isyath should be down... eventually." Only, he doesn't say where she'll land. "/Part/ of the day," N'rov corrects blandly, targeting E'ten (and if Ali's in his vicinity, so be it) as he sets the large fan in slow, air-stirring motion with the flex and shift of his wrists. "'Pulled,. like fanning's so scandalous. And I do so have shorts on." Only! There's Brieli, and now he has to offer her not only a quicksilver smile but, when she's done handing things over, the /handle/ of the fan as though she might want to take over. "If you must. Though I would have thought... wine? ...would have sufficed. It takes a certain technique, you know." Glancing from the bronzerider and his fan to Ali, Brieli decides, "Minions. To fan and fetch and carry. It's the least you're owed. And congratulation for the double-digits, at least. It could be worse." In the Reachian's mind, it could /always/ be worse, though can she really be blamed these days? "I'll say it again post-hatching, so as not to tempt fate. And it's nothing." She waves off Ali's thanks, though with her own faint smile; it's dark humor that makes her add to the goldrider and E'ten both, "From the Winecraft. Just in case." Being offered the fan like she might do it herself, or fan someone else, Faranth forbid, arches fine brows - but she takes it, coming up the steps to smack N'rov in the shoulder with it, and sit down next to him. She might flap a few token breezes the clutchparents' way, but service is not her thing. "/Eventually/," Ali stresses on the heels of E'ten's comment. "I had her on the sands almost all morning; I think the best I can hope for is her tiring out- but on a day like this, the thermals will last well into the evening." With more laughter, she adds, "If you want to design an outfit for him, E'ten, I'm certain I could work on it. I mean, it's not like I can do much else here, other than- well, hidework." As for the talk of minions: "We'll have them soon enough. I saw the search wings fly out this morning. But- sitting in the warm galleries and occasionally fanning someone is probably a /reward/ given some of the things you get to do as a candidate." There's a wry smile for the half-hearted fanning from Brieli, though she quickly says, "I think you're off the hook; it definitely needs an outfit to go with it." "Then I call that an escape," E'ten says by way of agreement as he at least reaches for one of the sandwiches that reside on one of the plates that rest between them. He's at least likely to dig in, except he's still using the food item as an errant object. "And I'd be glad to take the idea for an outfit. Well, something that won't be too bad." They are friends after all. The resulting prank that could come from this could be bad. Or hilarious. "But, I can always think of that later.. with input, of course." Meaning Ali. "You're welcomed to give ideas to Brieli." There's snickering from N'rov's direction now, right around the time of that brows-lift and deepening into outright laughter when he gets smacked. "Outrage," the bronzerider claims. "Assault in the galleries." Clearly such matters require keeping the perpetrator in line, so he sees about winding a proprietary arm around Brieli's waist and attempting to capture some part of the handle at the same time. Not that that stops him from talking, never: "Not /too/ bad, E'ten? This could make your name as a crafter-rider, keep in mind. They'll forget all about our wingsecond and his tailoring what-have-you. Go big or go home, I say." Fine brows now arch Ali's way, though Brieli says nothing, merely considers the other goldrider. Shifting her gaze out to the eggs, "That sounds like an /excellent/ use of time. You sew?" There's no particular weight to her words or question, but she's quick to move on; tone amused, "Make it a reward, then. Fan, and bask in the weyrwoman's presence! Everything you ever wanted to know about eggs and sitting in the galleries, but were afraid to ask! They'll be trained up nicely in awe if they impress." There's a bit of a smirk about her before she nods down to E'ten, "I'll let you know, but I was but a seamstress. I can buy clothes and mend them - though I suppose I pay enough attention to how he looks to have an opinion." Speak of the devil, she'll both lean into N'rov a little and hand over the fan without a fight. "Kick me out, then. And you would encourage this." Says the girl who's never seen a short skirt she doesn't like. Ali sets the bottle of wine down on the tray, and when E'ten reaches for one of the sandwiches, she reaches for her tea, either by habit or out of politeness. "I reserve the right to pick colors. I do, after all, have to negotiate with the weavercraft for material." There's a rueful look for N'rov and his mention of E'dre, though the dark-haired woman pointedly leaves that alone. "Bask?" she echoes Brieli, "I kind of doubt that. But yes, I sew. Nothing near weavercraft's quality of course, but I used to make and mend all my siblings' clothes." Even in the sundress, the heat of the galleries is starting to get to her, and she absently begins to braid her hair back out of the way in an attempt to cool down. Waving the sandwich at N'rov, E'ten grins and points out, "He can be the tailor, practicing or not and wingsecond. I'm not about to compete with him for crafter-rider status. Besides, I feel more like a rider with a lot of different hats - none of them crafter." Wait. Harper. Dragonhealer. He's clearly not counting. "So, we have a reward and I'm staying out of the ideas of design. For now, since I'm betting on the fact that you'll have something ten times as worse in mind. But accessories? I might be able to help with that," he says, finally taking a bite out of the poor sandwich as he eats first and cools down second. It's all in the practicality of things. "In terms of running errands, when I can get away." N'rov can fan in peace, then, relative peace, air moving in smooth, slow drafts (made the slower for the awkward position, but it's /something/). "And that's just for starters," he assures his 'captive' with a sidelong look before adding to E'ten, "None at all? Are you positive? And... while you're doing /accessories/, why don't you add pillows. For everyone. Because these benches are uncomfortable," maybe even uncomfortable enough to distract him from colors, because he shifts in a way that's far too close to a squirm, delicate flower that he is. "Ah, yes. Bask. Though we don't really consider our presence a gift... Well. Maybe /most/ people don't..." Brieli flashes a grin for that before telling Ali, "But might as well take advantage, create a little mystique. Especially if it means they'll do things for you. One man's trash, another man's treasure, all of that." There's a grimace before, "I avoid sewing as much as possible, these days. Terribly dull." At least, for her. Finally, "The eggs are lovely." As she watches E'ten wave his sandwich about, "Sounds like you keep yourself busy." There's an underlying tone of mystification, like /why/?, but she doesn't linger, not when N'rov's near squirming - her own sidelong look is like, really? But neither that nor the heat stops her arm from going about him in return. All too pedantically, "Pillows always have to be replaced." The day's slothing is interrupted for something like a squirm, something that started as a low-level /itch/ and ended with Vhaeryth craning his neck around to stare at his abdomen. There's a perceptible grimace, and then he flops back again, half-stretching half-scraping against the heated rock. Better. Clearly, « We need oilings. » (Vhaeryth to Iesaryth) "Well, you'll have to think on outfit- /and/ accessories, for a bit." Hair finally safely out of the way, Ali glances at the sands- at Adiulth, then to E'ten: "You and Adiulth happy to keep a watch on them for a little while? I think I could use a swim- I'm not yet used to the heat in here." She's already starting to stand, having (probably reasonably) assumed that E'ten will assent. To Brieli, "Give my regards to High Reaches- and- and to K'del, if you would." And then she's making a quick exit. There's due sympathy for /itching/, even if she's not quite there, Iesaryth is like to be eventually, what with all this cold to hot, and honestly, who couldn't use an oiling just about any time. « They are nearby. They should be able to manage that. » If there's a schedule to be on, the gold isn't aware of it, or doesn't care. (Iesaryth to Vhaeryth) It really doesn't need to be asked. E'ten has long since made his promise on the matter of sand, eggs, and goldriders with dragons. "We'll stay. Adiulth's still wary to get too close and yet, I sense that he's inspecting them in his own way." Just no hands on. Moving to stand as Ali departs, the sandwich is taken another bite of before gesturing to the sands. "I'm going to step a little closer for a look. Not that Isyath would have denied me earlier, but.." It's easier with proud papa around. "Guess that's what happens when people use them," N'rov supposes cavalierly of the pillows. "Something truly decorative would be lined up along the benches, tantalizing, and then people would have to remove them to sit." Though his tone doesn't trail off, his gaze follows Ali with her departure, the fan's tips tilting after her for a moment in a way that's easy to extend to E'ten as he goes to take a look. Lower, when his friend's out of earshot, "He's so... /doting/." "To K'del," Brieli can't help but echo, but she's quick to promise, "I will, Ali. Clear skies." If she's surprised by the quick exit, it doesn't show but in the way her dark gaze follows the goldrider; all she says is, "I don't blame her. I can't imagine, in this heat." There's something reflective in her tone, as she stares down at the eggs. Shaking herself out of her reverie, there's a nod for E'ten; "Of course." It only makes sense. Once the other bronzerider's stepped away, she lowers her voice to murmur in N'rov's ear, "I can't see finding this interesting." The reality, it's sinking in. "And now I have to talk to K'del." Lifting her free hand to brush his cheek with light fingers, smiling, "I can't see you being the same. Which isn't bad, I can't see /myself/ like that, either. I guess it's not surprising." "So you're actually going to? Pass it along." Convenient, fans, how they can be lifted to shield a kiss from stray observers, even if N'rov has to unwind his arm to do it. At least, now that he resumes slow fanning, it can seem casual how it deflects the majority of the cavern's view and keep her cooler at the same time. "I can't either," he admits, low-voiced so even Adiulth shouldn't hear. If he even cares. "In a way, it's sort of reassuring that Isyath isn't: if Vhaeryth isn't either, it won't be because he's... because there's a problem with him, or anything. I can laugh, and say well, he just got it from his parents." He looks from her back to the sands again, but biefly, gray eyes considering her expression once again. After that kiss that she'll make linger, that makes her smile like that, Brieli is likewise pleased by this casual fanning, but commenting on it would mean she'd noticed. Instead just resting her head on N'rov's broad shoulder, she tilts a concerned look up at him, brows knit. "Even if he didn't, it still wouldn't mean there's anything wrong with him. Why...?" She trails off, but doesn't fill in the blanks. Not now, with E'ten so nearby. "I don't know how Iesaryth will be. Hraedhyth already seems rather maternal; to be expected. I think Iesaryth might see them as little experiments. Not heart-warming, but..." She shrugs, closes her eyes against the fan's breeze. "And I will. Pass it along. It's just... I haven't spoken to him since Iolene." Months. "It's been a long time." With the slow currents of fanned air like that, with the subtle movements of muscle required to produce them, they could almost be at sea within the sweltering heat, if only the air tasted like salt. Eventually, moving back to a blank or two, "Not a quiet 'oh, sweetie, feel better' mother, Hraedhyth, I don't think. More like my uncle in the guards." N'rov's reminiscent smile is more audible than visible, just now. "He might surprise me. I mean, it might never happen, but if it did, I'd kind of like it if it mattered, to him... if there were a guarantee, like you have, seems as though it would be easier to take it as whatever comes. If she didn't just lay five eggs, or something." "I don't want to talk to him," Brieli will admit, flat out, but quiet. "I don't want to face..." Him. What she did? There's another blank left empty there too, but she has a smile for Hraedhyth. "She has her softer moments, but they're very few and far between. She's keeping an eye on the weyrlings though, given they're a bit... alone." Traumatized. Same difference. Quiet for a few moments before shifting to look as him more easily; "It's... I suppose there's a sense of the inevitable, there. There's no if, just when. That makes it easier in some ways." Her glance for N'rov is significant; they've talked about the others. Though there's a sudden grin. "/Five eggs/." As if she'd allow it. He's listening, but not just that, brushing a kiss against her soft hair for that still-empty blank, adding a nod for that glance of hers that won't quite allow himself to hope. Finally, back to dry amusement, "Better than four." And back further yet, "Good that Hraedhyth's doing that, I've got to say. At least, I think it would help. I still remember little Vhaeryth and Elaruth, and her not even his dam," and N'rov laughs under his breath, glancing away. After that look of his, Brieli impulsively stops his fanning to take up his hands and kiss them both, who cares who sees. Looking up after, dark eyes serious, she's low-voiced, even though all she says is, "We can. We will." She'll release his hands, but she's slow to do it; with a smirk, "Low expectations. I should be insulted." The amusement in her tone says she's not in the least. Though, more soberly, "I hope it does. Iesaryth will talk with them, but it's not as... well. Warm. I suppose that makes sense." She's still watching him as he glances away, and she catches one hand again, squeezing. It brings N'rov's focus back, and he can't help but smile down at her. They're in the bleachers still, speaking in low tones, and warn the aunties: there's fanning going on! "I suppose so. Though it's not as though she's /cold/. Speaking of them: I'm told he's owed an oiling when the time comes, and he supposes he can share. The oil, anyway, and there's no hurry." But he does add after a moment, carefully, "You didn't say... /when/ you'd tell him." Hand-holding too! Shocking! And Brieli is mirroring N'rov's smile, eyes bright. "Maybe my excuse," She can admit, to him, at least. "I don't know that I'd be able to offer any particular comfort to scared weyrlings myself. But you never know. Not everyone wants hugs and cookies." There's a sidelong grin, and she supposes, "I don't have much in the way of plans. And..." Grimacing at the bronzerider, petulantly, "/Soon/. I promise." "Some of them like hugs and wine, apparently," N'rov teases. "And it doesn't have to be soon on /my/ account. Just saying, if you need space." He hesitates a moment, sparing a hand to play with her hair: gently, though, mustn't make it frizz! "Though I've seen you charming enough to knock someone right out of their sandals, when you want to be, even without the wine." He might still be talking about K'del. How cute! Ahem. If E'ten was inclined to comment on the cuteness of it all, it's all lost behind the hand running through his hair while making a not too subtle retreat back to the galleries where it's cooler by some degrees. In time though to catch some snips of the conversation going on between the two left with a wry smile before looking to the tray to see what's left and what's been nabbed while he was away. "Should I take the trays to the higher levels and let the two of you be," he asks, unrepentant in his words - if the smile is any indication of such. Maybe there is something like cuteness going on, but now that there's E'ten, Brieli can do her best to dial it down a little... though she can't help but tilt her head into N'rov's hand as he touches her hair. It might be the reason she's a little flushed under dark skin, when the other bronzerider speaks up, or it could just be the heat. Amused, "Is that a nice way of saying 'get a room?' No... I just... I have to pass Ali's regards on to K'del. We haven't spoken much, ever. And not since... well. It's awkward." To N'rov, after, "Thank you. For all of that. It's different, with him, I guess." N'rov flashes E'ten a grin, though it's Brieli to whom he replies first, and even that's murmured: "You'll make it." Make it happen. Make it through. Whatever: he's got confidence, or at least it sure looks like he does. He shifts on the bench again, not an awkward wiggle this time, but more inclusive: go ahead, E'ten, sit. Besides, "Don't you know? Rooms, this time of Turn, it's sacrilege. Open sky is where it's at... which reminds me, E'ten, are you getting any time off for this? Lounging around?" "No. If I really wanted to suggest that you get a room, I would have said so." With the trays remaining on the bench, E'ten takes up Ali's previous spot before pouring a cup of the tea that had been brought for her. Just to see. Sample. Experiment. Unlike the goldrider, he doesn't believe tea can solve everything. But, it's worth tasting and it's cooled. "Or..." With a wry tug of his lips as he waves towards N'rov, "You can have particular ideas. Something I /don't/ want to know." He's firm about that one as he takes a bite of the other half of the sandwich procured for himself. "Speaking of, how is K'del?" That murmur is appreciated, enough that Brieli will go back to leaning on N'rov's shoulder - that is, until he gets distracted by some person pulling him off. She only seems a /little/ disgruntled by that, but it passes quickly enough. He's being nice to her, after all. "Open sky," she echoes to E'ten, with a smirk. "Like you can't find that any time, just not anytime, anywhere. And I'll keep that in mind - that you'd say it right out." With a quirk of her own lips, she has to sigh a little for the question. Uncomfortably, "I hear he's better. As I said, I haven't talked to him in some time. But he... wasn't good for a long time. I didn't think... Well. He really misses her. I thought... passing on word from people might make him remember there's some people out there. That aren't me." She flashes a bit of a wry grin for that. "I'm sure and have been able to see that you're quite a likeable person," E'ten says between eating what is his late lunch, careful of his fingers that have purposely not touched anything that has any relation to sand in any form or fashion. "I don't mean anything by it, Brieli. Just the question as it stands." He's not going to pry more than what he has already. "For N'rov's curious mind when he gets back," he begins by steering into safer territory. "I don't get time off but.. there's understanding involved. I can't be here every waking moment but there's a fair chance that Adiulth and I will be here watching when Ali and Isyath need time away from the heat." "Oh. I didn't think you did. I just... K'del and I have never gotten along. And I feel-- Well. Things have changed an awful lot, haven't they." Brieli offers up a smile to E'ten, telling him, "I'm not generally the most likeable person in the room, but I appreciate it. And that makes sense, the flexibility, I suppose? If you wanted to, I'm sure you could exaggerate Adiulth's need to be by the eggs, for a bit more time off. But somehow... I don't see you being all right with that." A pause, before, "Is he concerned about them? Or just... whatever?" "He's amazed right now." Meaning Adiulth. The bronze has since settled down on the sands, adopting a watchful state over the eggs and the general area. It doesn't keep him from talking to other dragons though. "But while Isyath needs time away from the sands, he's willing to watch the eggs. But we've duties to attend to. We can't get any extra time off, no. But what we can do is enough. It helps Ali this time too. Last time, there wasn't anyone to do the small things like this." But with that explaination, the sandwich goes away bite by bite between explaining. "And while things have changed, it doesn't always have to be for the worst. It sounds like you're likable enough. I haven't seen you in a bad mood, for example. And I," he notes with a twinge of amusement. "Know better to avoid in situations like that." Shifting attention back to the eggs, "I suppose there's something about it they find interesting. Even Iesaryth. I don't see it, not in the same way. I think." Brieli shrugs - it's hard to say how differently dragons and riders see the world. She's amused by E'ten seriousness about his duties, but says little but, "I'm sure everyone understands, particularly if it's to help Ali. And... yes. It is better. By far." There's no need to discuss the reasons, right? With a quirk of her mouth, "Some people might say I'm never in a /good/ mood, not truly. But you see me most often with him, so..." She waves off towards N'rov, crediting him for her better ones. N'rov, whose curly hair isn't quite to the point of standing on end, but if he runs his hand through it one more time, it just might. There's some gesticulating going on, but finally he nods, and then nods again, and there's a handshake: looks like they're almost set. "Fair enough." On which count isn't clear until he glances briefly at N'rov to gauge that he's just about finished with whatever business. With the half of sandwich finished, E'ten takes care in drinking from the cup - the second one to consider the difference in perspective between rider and dragon when it comes to different things. In this case, he's thinking about the sands and eggs, given his attention towards both for a few moments before he moves to tidy up some parts of the trays. Not that there's much to do. "I'm sure they see us as strange sometimes too. Our logic behind certain things. Habits. But it works out." Following E'ten's gaze briefly, long enough to soften into a smile for the state of that /hair/, Brieli turns back to the other bronzerider to agree, "I know they do. I know they /talk/ about us, some more than others. To try to figure it out. Iesaryth is endlessly curious about many things, one of which is human behavior... but I can't say that I didn't have some influence there." There's a moment where she watches him tidy before, "Won't someone come and pick that up? Or would you prefer they not waste the time?" That clattering, that's N'rov heading back down the stairs, slowing a couple tiers before he gets back to them. He eyes E'ten's cup before it gets tidied, but winds up curling his lip rather than stealing it this time, and takes his seat back without even any possessive arm-circling or hand-snagging when it comes to Brieli over there. Not that his sandaled foot doesn't aim to bump into hers, but that's more surreptitious. "What did I miss?" He eyes E'ten like he's performing some alien ritual. Yeah. Totally alien. Unknown and vastly foreign. Wait. E'ten's surely must have cleaned up before. Something. Somewhere. With the spare cup being placed onto the tray, the man's shoulders lift into a shrug before he remarks idly, "Why should I wait if I can at least do part of it now? I don't mind and I don't think they mind." It just makes... sense. With N'rov's return, he adds, "Just idle talk." Likewise sandaled, Brieli's foot bumps against N'rov's - and she'll take his hand if he won't, fingers twining loosely. "Nothing much," she tells him, flashing E'ten a grin. "Your friend's remarkable work ethic. Whether I'm likable or moody, or both. Nothing about /you/, not this time." And while that might not be totally true, close enough. "Not /that/ idle." E'ten's answer seems to be enough for her, she nods and admits, "Just curious. I like to know why people do things. I think I mentioned that, in a sense." In /that/ case, N'rov can go along with the hand-holding: it's her idea. "So on an idle-to-focused scale between one and a ten, it's about a... two. Two and a half? Something," he says, not even bothering to get too deadpan as he adopts a slouch against the edge of the seat behind them. Speaking of work ethics: "What would you do, E'ten, if Adiulth flew some random queen from... Ista, let's say? Fort's awfully convenient, but somewhere else... would you want to hang out there too, move out there until they hatched, or just wish them good luck and leave?" With the last thing set onto the tray, there's little else that remains that can't be moved out of the way while E'ten nudges the tray wit one knee before making himself comfortable. Brieli's question is pretty easy. The one posed of him from N'rov has him answering, "It won't be the same but as long as we can spend some time there is enough, whether or not we're welcome is all too important." "Somewhere in there." Brieli has another smile for N'rov as he leans back; she lifts their hands for a moment to drop a kiss on his. The fact that she's /not/ leaning in to try to flatten those curls is a testament to self-control and manners both. And though she listens to the question, has to quirk a grin for it, she doesn't do more than arch those fine brows N'rov's way, amused. "Are there but three options? I'm guessing this assumes the goldrider might want you around to begin with..." Her tone is light. And E'ten's answer has her laugh quietly, shaking her head. "I don't think it's so common that someone /isn't/ welcome. I'm even told I'm welcome at Monaco, imagine that." Her tone is wry. "Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't," N'rov says grandly, sliding a look back at Brieli before scrutinizing E'ten again. "We're keeping it simple for starters. And see? The man is reasonable. Logical. In fact... /Shells/." Evidently he's being summoned, again, because the elderly whoever-it-is wants clarification. As he scrapes himself up, "Anyway, don't remember if I said the other time, so congrats, E'ten." Double digits, indeed. Stealing both Brieli's hands this time, "And /you/, meet you up with the oil pot, I'll make it up to you." Somehow, it should sound salacious but for once, not so much. A quick, rueful grin later, and he's heading off to take care of things the rest of the way this time. Brieli can't help but grin up at N'rov, even if the implications aren't all that salacious. "I know you will," she tells him, tone certain, as he starts away. She's never as dark as she usually is with the other bronzerider around; her smile lingers as she watches after him. "I wonder when I ought to wake Iesaryth up. Perhaps better early than later, yes?" With that in mind, she pushes out of her seat, telling E'ten, "Try to get Ali to share some of that wine with you? And congratulations again." Flashing a smile, she offers a little wave before heading out of the galleries, and into the bowl. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy) left a comment on Sun, 09 Dec 2012 21:55:39 GMT.
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Interesting scene, what with this particular gang and all. Still, it was a fun read. :D
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