Difference between revisions of "Logs:Secondary Lungs"

If anyone has the start of this scene, it would be awesome if you could add it here!

Nat just shrugs, she doesn't have a dragon so it isn't like she can answer for that. "If I manage to find out I guess I will let you know." She remarks. As for Ylynna? There's a shrug. She laughs though at the boy's explanation of dragons. "Thank Farnath were at an interveral again. No more freak falls, that's one menace I am quite content not to worry about these days." As for the gold rider comment Nat nearly chokes on her Klah. A hard laughing cough and a few hits to the chest before she can speak again. "I may not know much, but I sure as hell ain't gold rider material. More likely to land on a Brown or blue if I impress. . . shells maybe even a green." Her tone does not sound so chipper at the last prospect. "Not that greens are bad mind you, just don't know how I'd feel about being chased by all those sharding males." She shivers at the thought.

"No, I think I'm glad for no threadfall." Rhaelyn is sitting with Nat and Taljan, eating from a bowl of fruit as she chit-chats with the pair of them. "Have seen what it does though. Thread I mean. On our island, we didn't have dragons flying over to protect us." No, they were left out there to die. Inconvenient that they were saved. "Ah, my mother and father are both dead." Said with enough harshness to show that it's still a delicate emotion that she's struggling with. "Alright, what is 'gold rider material' anyway?"

Taljan is expounding on dragons--as much as a nosy teenager with a rider father can expound, anyway--with Nathalia and Rhaelyn as his audience. "I don't think I'm missing much, living in an Interval. Dad has friends who whine about not being able to do what they're 'meant to do' or whatever, but I think a little boredom is better than Threadscore and death." He grins at Nat. "What, you don't want to boss us all around with your sparkly gold?" he teases. "Not that I know what golds want. I'm a guy. And if you even mention bronze around me, I'll laugh so hard that klah will snort out my nose." He takes a big drink to back up that threat.

Hypatia overheard one thing -- just one thing -- as she wandered in to the living cavern to get her dinner, and it was the one thing likely enough to draw her into a conversation. So as she makes her way to the line she calls over, loud enough to be heard, ignoring the fact she might be yelling over people's conversations: "There's lots more to greens than mating flights and it's kind of narrow-minded of you to think of flights with greens and not with golds! Golds /are/ just about mating flights and being important."

Zerenynio started /out/ overhearing just Taljan's part of the conversation, and was already heading over to join in when he hears Hypatia's additions. He, for one, is well-mannered enough not to just bellow his way into a conversation from across the entire cavern -- and he's smirking, mostly at her, as he materializes behind Taljan, intent on finishing his introduction to the conversation as intended. "That's a waste of good klah, and an invitation to infection besides," he opines piously. "Much better if you snort wine out your nose. At least the alcohol does a start at sanitizing the path it takes!"

There's amusement at the thought of the boy klah-snorting and Rhaelyn has to give it a try, "Bronze. Dragon." Might as well give it a try. Maybe it'll take more than just mentioning it. As Hypatia comes into the conversation, she turns in her chair and gives a cold up and down look of the other girl. "Excuse me? You don't know what we're talking about. Such as, greens rising to fly ever few months while you only have to worry about the gold going up once a turn or so. But tell us of /all/ the other wonderful qualities of greens we don't know about. Please."

There's a compassionate look for Rhae and the Island, and another coughing laugh at mention of bossing anybody around. "Nah I am not much for administrative aspects. I would do better flying with a wing, who knows maybe even leading one one day." As the scolding reaches the Smith she frowns. "Meant no disrespect, Greens are fine little dragons to be sure, and they certainly have aerobatics down. Truthfully though If given a choice I would rather chase than be chased. So I lump gold in that mix too." It seems people are materializing now all over the place, and there's a laugh for the male mentioning infections and wasting Klah. She does however flinch at Rhaelyn's little tirade.

Taljan had warning, you see, so he does not snort when Rhaelyn says the dreaded words. He did *not*, however, know that there was a Winecrafter behind him. There's a really horrifying snorting, splurting noise, then anyone within two feet of Tal will have some klah, whether they planned on it or not. "Faranth and all her nine thousand hatchlings!" he splutters, once he can talk without dripping on things, "don't sneak up on a guy like that!" He smiles feebly at the new people. "Ah. Well-met?" So much for making a dignified first impression in his new home.

Poor Taljan is just getting mobbed! But Hypatia's barely paying attention to him; her focus is now off Nathalia and on Rhaelyn, and instead of seeming put-out by the cool dismissal of her statement, her expression is evolving into an actual grin. "You're right! I don't. Haven't a clue, I just get tired of hearing the same thing over and over as regards greens. Yes, they rise more often, but in times of Thread they were also extremely useful. Greens are, like, the entire center of Pern's existence. We'd all be dead if not for the versatility of the green dragon -- well, actually /we/ may never have been /born/, but you know, whichever! Golds don't rise as often but they're not as important as Fall, and in an Interval goldriders have no job options except being a weyrwoman, whereas you can do more with a green. No way to get around the flights, though, just don't go knocking flights and still wanting to ride one -- not that I'm a rider. Best friend is, though." Once she's done -- well, not tirading back, but responding to Rhaelyn, anyway, the exile gets a polite little tip of her head and she shoots a little giggle at Zerenynio and Taljan, calling across the room /again/, "Don't worry, he's just touched!" As she told Jaques previously.

Zerenynio gives Hypatia a mock-dirty-look, muttering "I am /not/ touched!" before going back to having a butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth expression as he ambles along in front of the boy whose nasal passages will now be suffering for the foreseeable future thanks to him. "So what /are/ we talking about?" he inquires, instead of ... apologizing, or otherwise being /nice/. Friendly? No problem being friendly! Taljan gets a smile, even -- "Well-met," he agrees, nodding, and even adds, for the sake of anyone who doesn't know or doesn't remember, "I'm Zerenynio -- call me Zeren, everyone does. Well, not /everyone/. But most people around here, at least."

Rhaelyn is just like that, quick to bristle up. It doesn't help that she's getting nose-klah spouted at her. Isn't that what she was trying to get though? So luckily she's able to get out of the way of the worst of it, "That. Is disgusting." Zerenynio gets the weight of her accusatory stare. "Maybe he could use some wine now to...flush out his nose." Or something? Addressing Hypatia, her comment is simple, "Blues are just as versatile and don't seem a quarter as moody. And besides, we're talking about in an interval, not during Threadfall. And our people did just fine without any dragons." Half starving of course, but living. As for touched? "Who is he touching?"

There is a noise of irritation as Nat gets a shower for probably the third time in the day, "Ugh Really?" She's not totally angry just annoyed at the moment that her face was missed, her clothes however? Well that's another story. As for Hyptia's speech the girl just shrugs, in her klah drenched state. "Just. . . never mind. . ." there's a sigh. As she studies the Vinter, "I think we were discussing color preferences. Not that it matters much really. Dragons pick who they pick. If I impress and end up with a green, I suppose I will deal with it just the same as a blue or brown." Though there's a snort of her own for Rhaelyn's response for Touched. "shards and shells." The smith just mutters.

Taljan makes a series of weak honking noises as he tries to clear out his nasal passages. "Something about dragons, yeah. Colors. I would remember better if I didn't have klah all in my brain. I'm Taljan." At least he can remember that much. "I'm really sorry Nat, Rhae. It was only supposed to be a joke." Zeren gets a glare, since this is *clearly* his fault. And Hypatia...he just blinks at her and her talking. "I ought to show you to my mom the next time she starts talking about run-on phrases. When do you breathe?"

Hypatia isn't laughing at Rhaelyn! Really! She's just -- smiling at the response to her description of Zeren. "He's touching his brain. Somehow. It makes it not work quite right." This said with all the sage wisdom of someone who has known the guy a while. Taljian gets a different grin, and, "Oh! I have secondary lungs, so I can talk and breathe through my nose at the same time."

Hypatia must surely /expect/ Zerenynio's reaction of rolling his eyes. She may or may not be expecting one of his spindly arms to stretch over in order to poke at her side, though. "I am /not/ touched," he repeats patiently. "In the brain or otherwise. And my brain works /perfectly/ well, I've even had tests to prove that!" Rhaelyn gets a curious look -- yet /another/ errant exile? Has /she/ tried the wine, yet? "How often," he adds, glancing back at Taljan, "does your mother talk about run-on sentences? Is she a Harper? Does she teach people about writing? Or does she just like talking about sentence structure for no apparent reason, with or without provocation?" There's a reason Hypatia and Zeren are friends. Neither of them has a small lung capacity.

"She was trying to dazzle us with how much she knows about dragons and win us over to why greens should rule the weyr." Rhaelyn smirks faintly as she dabs klah from the table in front of her. Her bowl of fruit is no longer edible. Ick. "Perhaps a green could be weyrleader some time. Wouldn't that be a trick." Never mind how something like that would work out. She gives the vintner a long look as she falls silent, perhaps trying to see if a touched person looks different than a regular one. "So?" She prompts, curious, "Do you have wine?"

As for the apology? Nat just waives it off. "Really I was considering dying this shirt anyhow." She offers, though not with as much mirth as she otherwise might have. The healer? Just gets a owlish blink. Had she ever heard anyone talk that quickly or that much? Apparently, there is a second dosing from the vinter. "Errant?" She enquires, though she doubts anyone could hear over the babble. As for the topic of greens again the smith girl just shrugs. Not much room to get a word in really.

Taljan is really, really unsure whether Zeren and Hypatia are teasing or not. Of course people don't have secondary lungs, but the *talking*...he chooses to let it slide. "My mom *is* a Harper," he tells the older boy. "And she does talk about run-on sentences and rhyme and meter and...stuff...because she writes songs and teaches music history. And because she's kind of weird." He offers Nathalia a slightly grubby napkin that he happened to have in his pocket. "Zeren, huh. And you just...carry wine around with you? In case someone somewhere needs to be drunk?"

"I was not," Hypatia counters, "don't state the intent of someone who is not you." Says someone who does that frequently enough, but -- details. "I was simply saying that if it's flights you don't like, golds aren't exactly a way to avoid it. Blues are just as versatile! But don't discount greens. I don't claim to know much of anything at all about dragons except what anyone else living in a Weyr would know and, in fact, I think I pointed out I wasn't one." Her tone is even, not sharp; it's more distaste for being told what she had been doing than anything argumentative to her tone. She is utterly ignoring Zeren.

Being pointedly ignored will not save you from Zeren's pointy fingers, Hypatia! Poke poke poke -- but he loses interest, eventually, to beam at Taljan. "Why /yes/," he says, bordering on gleeful, "quite often I /do/." Free samples in the living caverns! When nobody not immediately in the group is looking at them, he /swoops/ in on the nose-klah-sprayed fruit, gingerly shaking it off before splashing wine all over it. Where did the wine come from? The wineskin in his hand. Where did /that/ come from? -- Well, some mysteries are best not investigated /too/ closely. And then the bowl of fruit-in-wine gets offered back to its rightful owner, as he belatedly adds, "I am, actually, a vintner, and not just a guy who carries around wine."

"Yeah yeah." Rhaelyn drawls at the advice and just as quickly brushes it and the rest of the comment about dragons aside. Bored with that topic of dragon color that really doesn't matter to her in the least. She's watching Nathalia, oddly quiet, eyebrows lifting slightly in question. It's short lived, the snot-klah-wine-fruit come drifting back to her. "What's this?" Drawn back to Zeren she shifts in her chair, "What does a vintner do if not provide wine?" The exile is trying to spot where the wine came from, certainly not going for that fruit.

A look at the grubby napkin and the smith finally just bursts out laughing, "Shells, don't worry about it." She removes the over shirt to reveal a short sleeved shirt beneath, that fortunately seems to have avoided any seepage. "Ah A pleasure meeting all of you, truly but I really need to get cleaned up." She offers though the wine piques her interest. "Zeren I hope we meet again, in better conditions? I am always looking for a good wine." She offers a moderate wave to Rhaelyn, Not really sure what the question is that seems to be asked non verbally. They'd have to catch up later, when she was. . . less soaked. She heads off in the direction of the baths.

Taljan looks at the bowl of wine-soaked fruit, then back at Zeren. "You're a professional sot-enabler, then?" he sums up with aplomb. "I guess everybody needs some kind of craft." He waves good-bye to Nathalia, promptly offers the napkin to Rhaelyn for courtesy's sake, and tries to avoid Hypatia's eyes. She might start talking again. "Sorry about the mess."

Hypatia really isn't /always/ that talkative; she's finished gathering her food and in point of fact does not choose to sit at the same table as the people she was talking to so much as the table next to them -- still a chance to listen but no forced engagement! Although: no. Taljan opened up the door. "He won't say it, but ..."

"Oh, I /might/ say it," Zeren says cheerfully enough. To Rhaelyn: "Providing wine is sort of a catch-all phrase -- there's more to it than the selling. There's also growing the grapes, the raw material that is, and then producing the juice which in turn is fermented into wine, and overseeing the fermentation, pouring the new wine into skins and making sure that it ages properly, and /then/ selling it -- see? Here, try your fruit now. Bet you it's better than it was." Because wine makes everything better, and fruit makes wine into sangria! Good times for all! Taljan gets a wink. That's sort of like an answer.

"But his snot is all over it. Or it was before the wine went in there." Rhaelyn still hesitates, apology in her tone as she pushes the bowl over to the vintner so he can have a bit first. "How does one get interest in learning this skill?" There are other questions but she's holding them back with tightly compressed lips. Accepting the napkin from Taljan she murmurs her thanks and resumes cleaning up the mess. "You sure weren't kidding about blowing it out your nose."

Taljan looks a bit hurt. "I warned you. I wasn't actually going to do it--I only do it to make my baby sister laugh--but then winey-boy snuck up behind me and took a Turn off my life and the klah out my nose." He has no idea what to make of the wink. Is it a sign? An apology? The signal to unleash the hounds. He looks away, and meets Hypatia's eyes. Blast. "He won't say what?" He's not sure he wants to know, but those unfinished sentences are so intriguing.

"That he is a professional snot-enabler." And Hypatia is the snot, if you use a different definition of the word! She gives Taljan a smile, again, although this time it's a faint one. And believe it or not, Hypatia's ever-present shoulder bag contained a book -- which she is pulling out and actually showing some interest in reading, rather than simply trying to eavesdrop eternally.

... and finish it up, too! As this is where my file cuts off.