Difference between revisions of "Logs:Tails and Tales"

Some pets are *so* inconvenient! Pyrite chooses the middle of a Taiga wing drill to drag Mime and the rest of her in-Weyr suitors down South for some sun, then fun, her glowy hide almost luminescent, her scent intoxicating. It's no surprises the the rounded little gold nabs herself an extra eight wild boys from the beach she hatched at to pursue her through pre-storm skies, the mugginess almost oppressive as the sun beats down between towering cumulus clouds. It's a longer flight than her maiden one, given her 'sleeker' condition, and between shrill taunts and expressive bugles, the autumnally-sunflowery queen has a wonderful time of leading them all along a merry chase...until she picks the one who's stood by her before. Mime's brash advances are just a little more familiar and evocative than the wild brown's honeyed calls and husky muscles, and - a little sad she can't have both at once - the female twines tails with her former mate, soon sealing the deal as they glide slowly down towards the earth. The beach sand is an excellent post-coital setting for a long, lazy nap with the bronze, and Pyrite claims him again, curling up against and partially around her chosen mate with indolent satisfaction. And Alida? At least she mumbled something of this possibility to F'manis some days before, the Wingleader dourly took note...and shooing her and Ilicaeth away when the blast of emotion surged through the bluerider. Ilicaeth got them safely back to the Weyr on half his own volition, and while her flit shredded fish for energy, the blonde stepped quickly into the living cavern...and luckily found Jo without much problem. Good thing it was about lunch time, anyway. Up to *their* weyr Ilicaeth conducted the two friends this time, the blue both amused at and enjoying his lifemate's abandon with Jo once Alida felt as safe as she could be, the burly dragon even inviting Tacuseth over to hang out and yakk while their riders snog. An hour or so later finds the blonde sweaty, tangled in bedsheets, with one arm curled about Jo's shoulders while a leg is splayed over one of the elder rider's own extremities. She's actually napping...with a small and satisfied smile on her face.

Mime is one lucky catcher for sure. While his presence in the Weyr is a shadowy one (Jo manages to keep him busy most of the day outside of the Weyr), he still manages to pop in around Pyrite's flights. This one of no different, and so, when Alida arrived at the living cavern - the convict rider chatting amongst her crew of friends - one look told her all she needs to know. So, while Tacuseth shares Ilicaeth's ledge, regaling him with tales that are likely repeated one thanks for dragon memory, Jo is laying up in Alida's bed, just as sweaty with one arm resting behind her head and the other draped over her wingmate's bare body. She's a light enough sleeper right now that her eyes are half-lidded, working on controlling her breathing while idle fingers trace over the skin she can touch.

They're like old war buddies, regaling each other with tales told over and over again, each of them still as good as ever! Silly dragons and their memories. One thing Ilicaeth repeats a few times over, in different ways, of course, is the sentiment that he's deeply glad Alida and Jo have reached a state of mutual trust and enjoyment *before* things got hormonally charged by Pyrite. Makes it much easier on *him*. Heh. Inside the weyr, the usually-light sleeper with the pale hair takes as many moments as she wants, for once, to enjoy every drop of relaxation and pleasure that she can, Alida only slowly coming up toward the surface of consciousness with Jo's light touches. There's enough scars for the elder bluie to find, if she's of a mind to investigate fair flesh - though not as numerous as the other woman's, though a few look to have been potentially dangerous in some fashion - one near the heart that looks like a piercing from a dulled blade. Sighing low and soft, stretching languidly before curling more into Jo to grab somemore touch, the often harsh-mouthed guard yawns out, "If ya ain't who I came up 'ere with, just keep quiet." Snerk.

« Trust'n respect, » Tacuseth readily agrees between their riders, pleased at them reaching it. He's of one accord with Ilicaeth there, and is easy on rehashing old memories that he can remember (or make up). Roughened fingertips tracing over the one near her heart, Jo shifts with her when she does and snorts at the lazy words given. "'N who was 'spose to come up here?" she murmurs back in a tease, hand moving to curl into that blonde hair. "Was I 'spose to change faces into some buxom maid with reddish hair?"

« Yup. » Exactly murmurs pleased Ilicaeth, who gives a bump of his shoulder to Tacuseth's own in bro-ship. Good times. Oh, good; it *is* Jo, Alida allowing herself to tiredly open one green eye and squint in amusement at her erstwhile wingmate. "If I had more guts, I'd say that Telgar boy with the ink *and* you." Snerk. She must feel safer, indeed, to admit anything like that. Or maybe still edgy, given the roaming of her own callused fingertips over whatever bits of Jo's skin are delightfully near. *tweak* Snigger. A low sound of murred pleasure is given off at the sensation of a hand in her wild mane of hair before the younger bluie mrffs out, "Gotta admit that Lilah's fairly attractive...but I think she's likely only inta boys." Yaaawn, streeeetch. "Goldriders." Snert.

Laughing roughly but quietly, "Don' tell me ya want N'rek, too?" Jo teases openly as she tugs a bit at Alida's hair. "Should I tell him he's bein' desired by Reachian women'n inflate his ego? Or are ya just tellin' me ya want a threesome with me?" She'll take anything and turn it dirty whether it was dirty already in the first place or not. Her hand falling to Alida's breast, "don' think I've met this Lilah, but I've heard of her," she admits idly with a slight one-shoulder shrug. "I prefer Irianke." Yeah, maybe it's the edginess indeed. "She's strong, like you. Maybe not physically, but, where it matters. Farideh's pretty hot too, when she doesn' have her nose in the air." Something there makes her snicker before she asks her, "Anyone else ya got the hots for? Since yer sharin'n all."

"More curious, since even picky Ed's got 'im on the brain... 'r in the pants," Alida notes a little saucily. When Jo comes out and speaks of threesomes, there's a hint of pink on the blonde's cheeks, but she willfully banishes it, shrugs. Not a 'yes,' but not a 'no,' either. That hand to her breast inspires a small catch of breath and a bit of a press into it, along with a glide of one of her own mitts over Jo's hip, where it carresses, occasionally squeezes...and looks for a buttock. "Don' bother; she's outta 'er mind with all the crazy responsibility uv havin' ta take over fer Hattie." Headshake, nose-wrinkle...blink. Green eyes both open, try to focus more on Jo. "A goldie..." With another woman? There's a slightly wicked grin for this, and the dark-haired woman gets a rather luxuriously spoken, "Goin' up in the world, eh, Jolie?" White teeth flash in a lazy and broad grin before the blonde's upper body moves just enough to allow her to try for a nip at one of the convict's earlobes. "Wench..." is whispered throatily into that ear, no matter, and as she resettles half beside, half-atop the other bluerider, "Maybe I ought'a meet up with our not-so-new Weyrwoman again... in *yer* presence, ta distract 'er some." Because the last time they spoke directly... oiy. There's another quick grin for word of herself being 'strong,' though memtion of Farideh earns Jo a dubious look. "Too high-n-mighty fer my tastes. Too much a teen, too." For a few moments, the bluie's mouth is suddenly busy with sampling the softer pleasures of being so close to Jo, and it's only when she's finished that the guard looks back up into dark eyes to murmur, "What's so funny? Gotta tell me..." Or else. Brow-waggle, smirk. There's a pensive look at Jo's inquiry, then a thoughtful, if archly noted, "Y'll just tell 'em, an' they'll be grossed out 'r tryin' ta beat down my hangin' ta screw me." Nose-wrinkle.

Jo watches that pinkening of the cheeks as she says, "There's nothin' wrong with threesomes, darlin'. Fuckin' fun with the right folks." Clearly, the convict rider has had an interesting sex life. She squeezes her breast playfully before letting her fingers tangle up in her hair once more and she snorts on her going up in the world as she says, "I admit nothin'," even though there's likely rumors at this point, anyway. "Just sayin' she's hot. 'N I think ya like me bein' a wench, woman," gets said to that throaty whisper and nip to her earlobe, shifting her body to accomodate as she stretches. "What happened with her?" she asks now after the encounter with Irianke. Her amusement seems to come from "Couple'a turns ago, her last flight, ya were itchin' to jump outta bed from me it seems." Pause. "I won' tell, 'less it's someone like H'vier," she promises oh-so seriously, with even a hand lifting towards her own heart. Hand dropping, "This is a rare opportunity," she states, her tone suggesting this is Serious Business. "When will I get another opportunity to ask ya a bunch of shit questions I know ya wouldn' answer under any other circumstance? I'll even make it worse yer while," she entices, shifting her hips against her. "I don' kiss'n tell, darlin'."

She remains quiet about threesomes, Alida still unfortunately too much a former Holder to be relaxed about this level of sexuality...at least, right now. "Handy wench, too..." is murmured as that hand toys with her chest, the guard then noting to Jo, "I dismissed those rumors. Too fast, it seems." Smirkie. There's some ass-'grabbing' taking place with the other woman's butt, the feel of it enjoyed while they talk, tease one another all over again. "*Last* time she went up...I was still outta' kilter some as far as *you* were concerned. Plus, I'd never experienced what it was like bein' under flit influence." Eyeroll. "Not as fuckin' crazy all-balls-out like with Ilicaeth, but still..." Obviously powerful enough, seeing how readily she jumped into bed with Jo... a woman she likes and respects, however. "I know enough uv' ya, now...enough uv' Pyrite, Weyr life..." And then H'vier is spoken of, which causes the blonde to look instantly revolted, her upper body actually rearing up away from Jo's for a few moments. "He *uses* women like handkerchiefs." Scowl. "No respect fer *anything* but power, force, his own dick, an' *maybe* his dragon." She's very intent on this subject, now, no longer teasing Jo, though Alida remains half atop her, staring down into dark eyes. She's not the kind of person to give warnings to someone as strong as Jo, but hints of them linger in green eyes for some moments. Sigh, shrug. "Ask away. Ain't gonna promise I'll answer, though." That hip shift incites one of her own, more a firm press of them to Jo's own as the blonde smirks again, whispers with faux archness, "Not even fer a rare flower like *me*?" Bat-bat go those long eyelashes, totally at odds with her sudden, shit-eating grin. "That's another thing abou'cha I like." No kiss, no tell.

Jo may chuckle on threesomes - and Alida's silence - but the woman doesn't tease her further on it, choosing instead to revel in her groping as she recalls the last time. "I'm an off-kilter sort of girl," she says with a long-suffering sigh. "I thought I wanted a gold 'lizard before, but, I think I'll just stick with Tac'n Mime chasin'." On her knowing Weyr life now, "Gotten used to this Weyr life now?" Even when Alida pulls away on reacting about the bronzerider, she tries to pull her back as she chuckles once and remarks, "Hey, I ain' less an asshole than he is. Just cuz' I ain' one to you, to Ed, to some, don' mean I don' got my own vices, too." But still, there's questions, and one blonde pressing herself against her which is pretty distracting. Still. "Spill it," the convict rider teases, like this is suddenly a slumber party. "Who ya got the hots for?" As for kiss and tells, "Just ain' my style, darlin', for all that I am."

A pinched expression is all Jo's chuckling garners from the blonde, Alida instead choosing to pay more attention to the other woman's body, instead of her own mind. "You don' look like a *girl* ta me..." is murmured warmly, with ample hints of tease and seriousness as the guard plies her 'lesser' wiles on the more knowledgeable bluie. Frown. "I didn' *choose* her. Daft flit came at me on the beach with teeth an' claws... I threw the meat I got fer some other fools at 'er ta distract 'er. Twit just attached 'erself ta me after she gobbled it up." Alida even tried to run away from the mass, wild firelizard hatching...obviously to no avail. Pulled back to Jo, the woman huffs a brief, "Not totally. Dunno if I ever completely will. But...more, yeah." It suits her much better than Hold life, that much is certain. "Uv' *course* yer an asshole..." is agreed with certainty, and some dark humor as 'lida lightly bumps her forehead to Jo's. "So am I." Very obviously. "Yer a pleasant one, though, when ya wanna be." Unlike herself...or H'vier, apparently. "You even fake it really well." Again, unlike both Alida and the bronzerider. Blink, snigger. "Not the sex, though. *Never* fake *that*..." More pressing, and some other, more fervent little motions take place as they converse, the guard smirking over and partially down at the darker woman. "Promise me y'll keep it all ta' yerself?" An encouraging nibble of a collarbone is given to urge agreement.

"Now who's the dirty-talkin' wench?" Jo drops on Alida, her bantering flowing for her wingmate's flitations as her fingers continue their idle caress. She snickers a bit on the story of how Pyrite came to be and when Alida speaks on assholes - pleasant ones at that - her forehead to hers, she sniffs at the thought. "Ahh, think ya got me all figured out, do ya?" she puts to her then with an amused look. "I ain' a teller," she notes on keeping secrets to herself as she exposes more of her collarbone to her. She's easy to please.

"You say that like it's a *bad* thing..." Alida throatily coos to Jo while the other woman snickers. "At least *you* got ta choose Mime." She thinks, anyway. The blonde never inquired as to the little bronze's origins. Smiiirrrk. "Pyrite's all warm an' fuzzy over 'im, right now, Ilicaeth says. All she feels is lazy an' drowsy, ta me." Snert. Figured out? "Oh shells, no..." the blonde seeks to smirkily 'reassure' Jo, more attentions paid to the elder woman's body, including light tugs to Jo's hair, along with some rakes of nails that leave white trails on skin. "PROMISE..." is murred out.

"Oh, it's not," Jo is open to saying. "I'm rather entertained by this side of ya, darlin'. It's like findin' a bubbly pie hidden in a crate of tubers." The fire lizards get her momentary thoughts as she looks to be communicating with Tacuseth before she says, "Yeah, Mime's the same. But really, they just gave me an egg'n there he was. Damn useful thing. I've gotten help in trainin' him to take commands. Doesn' always work, mind..." That Alida reassures her that she doesn't all there is to know about her, the convict rider is quite pliant in those ministrations. A fierce kiss is paid to lips before she states back to her, "I promise."

"Better be *more* 'n 'entertained...'" Alida suddenly growls back to Jo, the imp gone and the brass tacks out...though she's not angry. Instead, the guard is serious, now working as much like a 'pro' as one of her semi-limited experience can be to have Jo respond more ardently. Somehow she's still managing to talk now and again, answering Jo with breathy or muffled words. "Funny if y'd've got a green." Smirk. "No shit..." of 'lizards not always listening, or doing exactly as told. And soon enough, there's that fierce kiss and promise, the pair of them sending the younger woman's mind spiraling into different thoughts, which make her flop to her side so she can try and pull Jo into a more equal position on her own side to meet her. Between rougher kisses and more urgent motions is huffed out, "Not always, an' various degrees..." Figures she'd have caveats. "Telgar boy, though I never met 'im." Smirk. "R'hin. Telavi. Hana. That Monacoan that left... X'vae. Maybe that smart-ass Fortian, R'oan." And beyond that, there's no room for words anymore, Jo's form her entire world for a time.

"Prickly," Jo calls her as she tries to wrap her arms around the blonde. "More'n. Ya better not be sendin' any baby greens my way, Alida of Pars," the convict rider states in wry warning along with a heavy look. Still, Alida is answering her question after all and there's a glimmer of both surprise and amusement on names given. "Dunno the last two," she admits easily, pulling her close. And, well. She could tease about the rest on that list but the blonde has other far more immediate things on her mind and the convict rider is only too happy to oblige.