Logs:Of Charm
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| RL Date: 23 April, 2006 |
| Who: Ayana, B'yan, C'len, Delu, H arley, L'sen, R'hin, Satiet, Yselle |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Your location's current time: 21:19 on day 31, month 5, Turn 57, of the Tenth Pass. It is a spring night. You meander into the tunnel to the living cavern. Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr(#1000RJs) The impressive living cavern is seemingly as large as the bowl that cradles the hatching sands. Rivers of polished wood tables and benches arrow towards a raised platform crowned with a compact version of their sturdy design. Neatly crafted pegs, some fancifully carved, are tapped into holes in the wall and support clothing dangling like lazy sleepers. Woven baskets, both useful and decorative, hang along another wall. Tiny bouquets of the first hardy flowers are crammed into jars and mugs, dotting the tables with their pastel colors and light fragrance. The faint, musty aroma of wet wool mingles with that of spice. Banners worked with the designs of Holds and Halls beholden to the weyr cascade down the walls high above, interspersed with several brilliantly colored tapestries. The clink of cutlery harmonizes with the flowing river of talk and gossip as the weyrfolk gather for a hearty evening meal. Contents: Maja Yselle(#6520PJacp$) Satiet C'len Bayan Ayana Delu L'sen Jemah Large Ale Cask Tray of Bubblies(#6808V$) Firelizard Perch(#5030Jae$) Obvious exits: Kitchen Bowl Lower Caverns Your location's current time: 21:46 on day 31, month 5, Turn 57, of the Tenth Pass. It is a spring evening. "Oh no, I didn't win it, Satiet gave it to me," Yselle says. "Sort of," she rubs her cheek, perhaps unconsciously. "So, I figure, I owe her a drink. Did you make any of this stuff?" she gestures with her fork at her plate. "What's with Satiet and L'sen anyway? Didn't I hear something about him and someone called Te'an? Not that that makes any difference, I guess. But Satiet looks pretty busy right now," she gestures to the goldrider and her weyrmate. "You're L'sen then, are you?" she calls over to that man. "Or someone who'd just like to see them dance?" R'hin's taken the time to change out of his candidate robe, and is looking a lot more comfortable in clean pants and shirt. Absently, he rubs his stomach as he makes his way in amongst the press of people attending the feast. His path is very clear and deliberate, making his way towards the serving tables without looking around. Bayan laughs out at Ayana, "Just teasing! I'm sure she's the best there!" He leaves that and looks to L'sen with a nod, "I'll be sure to find you then. I think it would be fun to see everything. I'm easy to please there!" He nods after Delu, "The food was delicious." Oblivious to Yselle and C'len's conversation, Satiet sulks visibly, though B'rakis looks somewhat pleased. "Fine, shardin' shells, fine. You want to dance?" Dusting off her crumb-encrusted fingers on her dress she holds out a hand towards the bluerider, "If you step on my feet, I will most definitely make sure you regret it. And you-," she turns on the bronzerider seated next to her, the slender finger pointed in accusation, "You are in trouble for later." Delu glances over at Ayana, with a bit of a yawn. "Ay, I might head back soon. An early night, I think, for this greenrider." She rolls her eyes at Bayan, "You sure do spend a lot of time worrying about your sister's bedroom habits, you know." To L'sen, grinnign a bit, "Do come visit, soon." She stands, slowly, and offers Satiet a final salute, "Thank you for having us here, ma'am. Congratulations to your weyr, and all the weyrlings, from Igen." L'sen glances around at Yselle again, brows arching. "Me? Oh, yeah. I'm L'sen. Who're you? C'len's somebody? What happened to that goldrider, C'len? Anyway, Satiet, she owes me this dance from, like, when I was a candidate, and she just keeps putting me off," he explains, attention flip-flopping between the Telgari and his clutchsibling and finally landing accusatively on Satiet. Then, his eyes light up. "Seriously? You're, like, serious? Finally, yes! C'mon! We'll be right back," he explains to the rest of the table as he scrambles to his feet and reaches to grab Satiet by the hand. Such enthusiasm Ayana nods, getting up as well, "Yeah, I'm going to go too. I'm pretty tired. See you again Baye?" To everyone, "It was nice meeting you all, and congratulations to the new weyrlings. Enjoy!" She winks at both L'sen and Bayan and then nods to Delu. C'len's light eyes fall on Ys, "She gave it to you? Why?" And then there's a duck of his head, at L'sen's remark, finding his food very interesting all of a sudden. A smattering of applause greets Satiet's response as she finally gives in, some of it from C'len but not all. He looks up again as the pair are about to finally have their dance, "It's about time!" Bayan waves to Ayana and Delu, "You two have a good night! I'll be sure to visit soon!" He rubs his belly, and sits back in his chair. R'hin piles his plate up, taking just about a bit of everything - except for the asparagus squares. Wearily, he collapses down into the nearest empty seat - which just happens to be the one so recently vacated by L'sen. Despite the fact that he piled his plate with considerably appealing foodstuffs, the weyrling picks at the food, nibbling a little of this and that, as if he doesn't have any real hunger. Some of the conversation around him garners his attention, and he squints up to see what all the fuss is about, peering at Satiet and L'sen with a grin that's concealed quickly in a cough. Yselle shrugs. "I have no idea," she says. "Maybe for entertaining her with St'vren..." At L'sen's remark, she chokes back a laugh, and leans over to whisper something to C'len. Very close. Ooh, ah. Looking up, she says, coyly, "That's not for /me/ to say." Then she leans back to watch the blue and goldriders. "This has been coming for a while?" B'rakis is one of those applauders and with light laughter for Satiet's discomfort, he turns back to the table and offers a salute towards the Igenites leaving. "Ista's to you and your queens, clear skies, dragonriders." - "Yes, I'm serious," Satiet retorts, wincing at the enthusiastic grip L'sen takes of her hand and reeling when he pulls her out to the dance floor. The harpers, in their absolutely marvelous timing, ironically play a light, waltzing tune. "I'm warning you, step on my feet and I'll tell your wingleader to put you on overnight watch duty and sweeps for a turn." Delu strolls outside to the bowl. Delu has left. Ayana strides outside to the bowl. Ayana has left. "Oh, bye, Ayana, Delu--I'll come see y'all some day," L'sen calls quickly after the two weyrling as they prepare to leave, offering a happy wave with his free hand while he tugs Satiet along with the other. "C'mon, don't worry. I didn't step on Shaylar /or/ Suri last time, you know, and before that, only once on Tavrie. I think. Anyway, I'll be careful," he promises as he stops once on the dance floor (conveniently toward the edge of it, where everyone at the tables can watch them). A glance to the harpers and the other couples, and after a moment of fumbling around for how to stand, he settles into the proper position, still just beaming at his partner. Nibbling on the edge of one of the cheese filos, R'hin nudges the plate halfway in Bayan's direction. "You want some more? I guess I was less hungry than I thought I was." He glances over his shoulder at the various people on the dance floor, then around the room, as if hunting for familiar faces. Bayan sighs and gets up suddenly, "Well, I think I'll go take me a much-needed nap! Had a long day today," he says to everyone as he rubs his belly. He grins then at L'sen, "Really nice meeting you, L'sen. We'll talk sometime." He looks at everyone else, "I enjoyed meeting all of you!" Thus wheeled out, Satiet seems wary of where L'sen puts his hands, keeping the distance with ginger steps taken backwards whenever the bluerider may come on too forward. "Do you know the steps to this?" "How old did we decide Vil and Neiveth were?" He asks, though it's more rhetorical as L'sen probably won't answer. "At least 3 and a half Turns they are, so it's been longer than that waiting for the dance." Yselle's whisper causes a grin, as C'len leans over and replies, faint enough not to be heard over the general bustle of the caverns. He gives her a quick peck on the cheek as she did him, earlier, before standing from his completed meal. "I've still a few things I promised to help with now the hatching's done. Glad you enjoyed it, have a safe trip back home." Then he waves to a few others around the caverns, before slipping out toward the bowl. C'len wanders outside to the bowl. C'len has left. "Not a clue, but I'm a good actor," L'sen reassures Satiet. "Now be still and let me dance with you, woman!" Thus distracted with his disagreeable dance partner, he misses the departures by others, C'len and Bayan both, in favor of trying to stare down Satiet. Unfortunately, he sucks at this staring business: that grin just won't go away. Bayan meanders outside to the bowl. Bayan has left. R'hin pushes aside his plate, still full, and leans back in his seat, eyes half lidded. A faint yawn splits his features, and he promptly hitches his feet up onto a chair as the recent occupant departs. Judging by his lack of searching, he doesn't appear to expect any family to be present at the feast. Yselle laughs at the whisper, glancing over at L'sen, "Good to see you, C'len," she calls, as he leaves, and responds with equimanity to the jibes of the greenrider who was trying to torture the bronzerider before. She watches the bluerider take the goldrider in hand, and glances over to R'hin, suddenly asking, "You impressed today, right?" Seated alone now, at a table once populated by Igen weyrlings and Reachians in kind, a lightly-tanned man sits, watching L'sen and Satiet in amusement. "Woman?" The bright blue eyes fly wide open in shock, and for once tonight, the rider has no quick comeback or biting remark for the bluerider and in that lax state of both mind and physical stature, she allows him control. It's only a long moment later that she finally exhales, "You are infuriating." "Uh-huh." R'hin's response is automatic, and only after a pause does one eye open to peer at the owner of the voice. "I'm surprised you could see anything from way up in the galleries," he adds, studying Yselle thoughtfully as he opens his other eye, gaze belatedly falling on her knot, lips pursing in barely masked surprise. L'sen just beams at Satiet. "So are you. But don't worry, I don't hold it against you," he tells her cheerily as he takes advantage of her surprise to finally get that dance. Just for her, he keeps careful watch on his feet, dodging around her much smaller ones. "Sorry, Yselle, Dianneth's," the weyrsecond grins at the boy, adding, "Oh someone told me as you came in. Congratulations. You must be so exhausted after standing on the sands so long." Full of athletic grace, due to regimented exercises, Satiet is lithe on her small feet and despite the slow to mid-tempo of the dance she does well enough. One hand reaches back to where L'sen has is and keeps it firm at her waist, nowhere above or below that safe zone. "Why," she finally murmurs for L'sen's benefit only, "Are you so insistent on this? I wonder if dinging you over the head with a frypan would garner more results." In a whirl around, the slight rider's eyes swiftly pass over R'hin and Yselle, and then return there with a turn of her head. "Leiventh," R'hin responds in kind, and the fact that he leaves off his own name is deliberate. There is, too, the expected brightening as he speaks the dragon's - his dragon's - name, wearied pride marking his features for a moment. "Fairly exhausted. I thought I'd grab some food, but I guess I wasn't hungry as I thought. Or maybe Leiventh isn't as hungry, or... something." L'sen hesitates, steps faltering briefly at her words, and he narrowly avoids her feet. Somebody can't think and talk at the same time. A brief, surprised expression slips across his face, and his bites his lip, crest-fallen. "You... really never wanted to?" he wonders. "You weren't just being, like, disagreeable like usual? You should've said." Yselle laughs gently. "It'll take a few days to sort out. It's very disconcerting isn't it? I know I wondered why I wasn't more prepared. I thought I was. Well congratulations, Leiventh's rider. Welcome to the club." She raises a glass of water she's brought and toasts him with it. Glancing over at the dancers, she says, "Wow, he's not going to get to cop a feel is he?" Unwatchful of her feet, having found rhythm in the dance, Satiet yelps as that narrow avoidance actually nips her little toe a bit through her thin slippers. But her anger is stayed a moment by the crestfallen look on her dancing partners face, and with extreme control, the raven-haired woman wills her expression into something vaguely apologetic. "If I had known you had really wanted a dance and weren't just trying to irritate me, perhaps you would've gotten it earlier." Unspoken words, the glazed eyes that dragon speak sometimes elicits, cause her to glance over to the Istan, and with an affectionate smile to his lips and a faint incline of his head, he makes his quiet exit. "Disconcerting," R'hin echoes Yselle slowly, eyes still on her, then agrees after a pause to consider, "That's one way to put it. It seems very... strange," he finally settles for, nodding thanks to the congratulations, though has no cup of his own to toast with, a suitable excuse to pass on it. Drawn by Yselle's comment, the bronze weyrling turns to look at the pair on the floor, through slightly narrowed eyes. His tone is odd; a shade of coolness to it all of a sudden. "I'd imagine he'd regret it if he did. The lady of the spires has a mean slap of the hand." L'sen winces, actually stopping, standing still as he watches Satiet. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," he notes, though not specifying whether he means her feet or the irritation he's caused her. "If you really don't wanna, you don't have to," adds the bluerider, following her glance to B'rakis and frowning briefly. "Go on with him if you wanna," he suggests to her. "It's okay, really. 'M sorry." And he offers a brief smile, apologetic. "Has she?" Yselle is amused. "Somehow I'm not surprised. She and I didn't have the best of first meetings." She watches the dance a bit longer, noting, "It all feels natural after a while, and you remember where you finish and they start. Well, sort of. I don't think I can /totally/ seperate myself from Dianneth unless she's asleep, but I do know if it's her hungry and not me." Perhaps to allow L'sen to save face, she tells him, "I thought you did really well out there. Me, I would've fallen over in a heap in no time. Especially if someone insisted on me wearing a dress." Satiet's pale gaze lingers on B'rakis' exit and, for a moment, she looks exceedingly let down. It may be that, or some other external oddities like the line up of the moons, that causes the raven-haired woman to turn back, dark lashes lifting to frame those light eyes. "You could wring tears from a dehydrated desert nomad, L'sen. Come on," she reaches out to try and grab a hold of his hand to put it back at her waist, and to reach for the other to intertwine fingers with. "Duties call him back -- they do that a lot lately," the latter added with hesitant wistfulness. L'sen's frown lingers a moment longer, but when Satiet pulls his hands back into place he breaks into a broad smile. "Really?" he tells her, mood swinging easily back to his usual good humor. "That's sad. You don't see much of him, do you? I don't think I ever met him before. He seemed nice, though," he adopts his typical chatter as he picks up the dance again. "I still think you should talk him into, like, moving here or something, you know?" "And -that- doesn't surprise me, either." Judging by the heap of food on R'hin's plate, he hasn't quiet achieved the distinction yet that Yselle speaks of. His gaze is on the pair on the dance floor again, and his attention shifts to Yselle with a faint smile. "Would you care to dance?" He asks, out of nowhere, pushing himself up slowly, tiredness slowing his movements only slightly as he proffers a hand to Yselle in invitation. Yselle looks honestly surprised. "Me?" She's pleased, if her expression's anything to go by. "Are you sure your feet aren't too sore from the sands? I'm a terrible dancer. I'd probably steop on you." There's resignation in Satiet's eyes, barely visible behind the polite veneer that her position's brought about. "You're an oaf, but somehow adorable despite it all." As they move fluidly, more or less, along with the other brightly dressed couples, she gives his comments long silent thought. "He's a good man," is all she has to say in regards to B'rakis. "It'd be inhospitable of me to send a representative of another Weyr home without an enjoyable dance to her name." R'hin counters, smoothly, hand still held outwards, waiting with infinite patience for her acceptance, as if he considers it a foregone conclusion. "My feet are sore - but that means when you step on my toes it'll distract me from the rest of the pain, no?" he grins. Harley strides into the cavern from the lower caverns. Harley has arrived. "Thanks," L'sen tells Satiet, never mind it wasn't much of a compliment. A pause; a few more steps. "I'm glad. You deserve somebody nice," he agrees, nodding as the dance starts to come to a close. "Now, was that so bad?" he wonders, with a grin. Yselle laughs, and allows herself to be persuaded. "Okay, but remember, you were warned. Just so you know, I fully intend to find out your name before the end of the dance." "Do I?" Bemused rather than flattered, Satiet reels away, still holding one of L'sen's hands, and then whirls back in so the back of her shoulders presses lightly into the bluerider's chest. "I'm sure you're the only person to think so. And you? I heard you visited Te'an at Igen? How fares are renegade greenrider?" "A challenge, then?" R'hin replies to Yselle, indulgently, taking her hand and leading her towards the dance floor. "You should know I take those very seriously. You'll have to be -very- persuasive." One hand still holding hers, the other settles into the small of the greenrider's back as he leads off the dance, steps purposely slow and deliberate. L'sen grins at Satiet. "Probably," he agrees lightly. "Most people, they don't seem to like you. But I do--we're friends, right?--so of course I think you deserve somebody nice." That grin only brightens at mention of Te'an. "Oh, yeah, I did. That's how I know Delu and Ayana, you know? I helped teach them one lesson--it was fun. Too bad I can't be a weyrlingmaster for this clutch, you know what I mean? Te'an, though--he's doing good, I think. Got, like, half the Weyr knocked up, though. I don't think he's real happy about that, although I don't get it. Kids are fun." Yselle laughs. She can't help it. "How about I just ask," she suggests, resting her hand on his back in turn. "It's always good to know who you're dancing with. - Last chance to back out with intact feet!" She does, in fact, seem a little embarrassed, not quite covering it up. Harley walks up from the lower caverns carrying a tray full of empty mugs, glasses, bowls, plates and assorted flatware. She carries it over towards the kitchen but a drudge intercepts her, shooing her away and taking the tray from her. With a slightly bemused expression on her face, she turns around and gets a mug of klah from the food table. That news gives Satiet pause and the young woman looks baffled. "Why would any girl get that close to Te'an unless she were Maja? Who," she quips dryly, "Has questionable taste as it is." It's no coincidence that her gaze cuts across to where R'hin dances with Yselle. "Maybe, he'll transfer here some day when Ista has no need for him. And dragons are born without wings," she adds sardonically. "I don't expect anything, we're not supposed t- our understanding does-, it's complicated. Thank you for the dance, L'sen." "And what of the benefits of mystery?" R'hin counters quickly, as he leads Yselle around the floor with practiced ease. "A dance with a handsome stranger that you'll never meet again? Such are the things of Harper's tales, Dianneth's rider." He waits until he thinks Yselle has settled in somewhat, then moves to spin her slowly, his motions deliberate to telegraph his intentions to her. L'sen tilts his head. "Maja? I like Maja--did you see, she finally impressed. Anyway, I like Te'an, too, a lot. You know he's weyrmated to Ais, though, right? Not that, well. They don't even /live/ together, so how can they--Oh. Sorry," he apologizes, recalling Satiet's own situation. "Um, anytime. It was fun. But I won't bother you about it again," he reassures her for her last comment. Harley turns around and finds herself a seat where there aren't any dishes, half empty glasses or bodies claiming it. She sits down and watches the dancers with that slightly out of it bemused expression on her face. Yselle starts to giggle. "Oh dear. A handsome stranger. /You/ are a handsome weyrling, and so you have the advantage of being unavailable too, you forget that added enticement." She narrowly misses stepping on his feet, stumbling a little as she's twirled. Satiet's lips purse at the repeat mention of Maja, but diplomatically, she refrains from saying anything more than the reaction of her face. Slim hands reach down to gather her skirts from the floor so they won't gather dust, and as she makes to depart, a tiny smile is flashed the bluerider, "I don't mind being bothered in small increments. Don't be a stranger, L'sen." L'sen beams at Satiet, nodding. "Don't worry, I'm not," he reassures her happily as she departs the dance floor. He follows, though only so far as the nearest table, where he collapses with a tired sigh. "Whew." "Mmmhmm, I haven't forgotten," R'hin answers Yselle, with a regretful little twitch of lips. His hand automatically returns to Yselle's back in order to steady her after the twirl. "It's a temporary set back, mind." He picks up the pace just a little, turning them both, his gaze flickering over Satiet and L'sen as they pass by. Yselle begins to laugh. "Oh shells. You impressed bronze, didn't you? I bet nobody was surprised. Nobody but a bronzerider can be as charming as that." Oddly, R'hin's expression tightens a little, guarded for a moment, but not before a faint flicker of irritation. It's gone swiftly enough to be overlooked, however. "I was charming before I Impressed," he eventually says, his voice deliberately light, before he moves to twirl Yselle again - perhaps to force a purposeful break in their conversation for a few steps. When she spins back, he goes on, "You're not that bad, you know. You just need an excellent teacher to lead you." Satiet remains in the caverns for long enough to greet a pair of effusive parents, Priya's, her fixed smile stretched thin it seems from the effort. While she converses with the pair her eyes find Harley first and then linger on the dancing pair of R'hin and Telgar's Weyrsecond, where the sight of the new-made bronzerider causes her lips to twist smugly. Then, with a whirl of the skirts of her pale, very flattering gown, she slips out of the living caverns into the cool spring evening. Satiet strolls outside to the bowl. Satiet has left. Harley can't help but chuckle softly when L'sen sits down. "Having fun?" she asks him. Lifting her mug, she takes a couple sips of the hot klah. Her eyes dart around the cavern briefly before returning to the rider. "That's kind of what I meant," Yselle laughs. Unfortunately, the next twirl, just after her praises as a dancer have been sung, lead to her downfall. Quite literally. "Oh dear," she laughs, finding herself rather suddenly on her backside. "I was doing okay for a while." L'sen glances sideways at Harley, breaking into a grin as he sees her. "Harley, hi! Yeah, it's great. I finally made Satiet dance with me, you know? How're you. I, um, sorry you didn't impress," he tells her apologetically. The instant R'hin spins her, he knows he's gone too fast, and attempts to halt the motion all too late. With a quiet chuckle, he reaches for Yselle's other hand as well to help her up. "You were doing excellently for a while," he corrects, just as the music comes to an end. "You shall have to practice further, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist on sitting down for a while." "Me too," Yselle agrees, rubbing her backside, once she's retrieved one of her hands. "But hey, thank you." She smiles at him warmly before even thinking of moving from the dance floor. "It's not often a handsome stranger wants to dance with me, and on the day of his impression, no less. I'm honoured." Harley shrugs and smiles a small, sad smile. "Maybe it's all for the best. I was down visiting the babies for a little while. If I'd impressed, I wouldn't be able to spend any time with them so" and she shrugs. "I think it's good I didn't." she takes another sip of klah "So now I can get back to normal and do all kinds of things again." At Harley's acceptance of her current fate, L'sen grins. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Kids are nice, you know? And so's not having all those weyrling rules and stuff--those, man. I dunno how all of us made it, back when we impressed," he remarks, wrinkling his nose. Seeing R'hin and Yselle start off the dance floor, he offers then a cheery smile and wave. "Hey, Rathin! Congrats, by the way. What's your name now? R'thin, R'hin, R'at?" So much for his game with the Weyrsecond. "So," R'hin says as he leads Yselle from the dance floor, towards the table where L'sen and Harley are, "Now that I've won the challenge, I think I'll reserve my reward for later." He says it like it was a foregone conclusion, even though there was no discussion of a reward. A wry smile greets L'sen's guesses, though he doesn't confirm just yet, glancing sidelong to Yselle. Yselle coughs a little, glancing at R'hin as if not sure whether she's just been propositioned. Still she manages, "Rathin. Only just," but she grins, adding, "Well if it's in my power to grant you, we'll see." Once again, she rubs her backside, shaking her head in some amusement. "R'hin, now," the weyrling corrects smoothly, without heat, "So Leiventh decided." His expression certainly doesn't confirm or deny any potential propositions; he merely looks pleased with her concession. He leads her to a seat, then lets go of her hand to drop onto the seat beside her, offering Harley a warm smile. "Hey," he says, deliberately casual, though he's eyeing her meticulously. "How are you doing?" "R'hin. Congratulations again," Yselle says, and then, to L'sen, "I feel I should know you or know about you, but..." she laughs, "I don't. So, Yselle, Dianneth's, and you're L'sen, and I could cheat and ask Dianneth who your lifemate is, but..." she grins. "R'hin's a good name," L'sen offers to the weyrling with a smile. "And Leiventh, that's your bronze, right? How's he doing? And what's he like? Oh, Neiveth's mine,by the way," he adds the latter to Yselle. "You're... Who are you again? You're not from around here. How'd you like that hatching? It was nice, wasn't it? Lots of people I know impressed." Harley blinks at L'sen and giggles. "R'at? That sounds kind of odd." she says, grinning at R'hin. "I'm fine. Looking forward to getting back to my normal duties. I visited the babies for a little while." R'hin takes the onslaught of questions from L'sen in stride, for the most part. "He's fine - sleeping." There's a little pause, where he tilts his head, attention half straying as if to ensure that's still the case. "He's... he's Leiventh," he shrugs helplessly, as if it's the best answer he can come up with right now. Another look at Harley, before he nods agreeably, treating her carefully and making it known that he is with his next statement, so unlike him: "Oh, the babies? That's good. How are they doing?" Yselle gives L'sen a bit of an odd look. Even R'hin recognised her knot. "Yselle, Dianneth's," she repeats. "From Telgar. Duties, of course," something has made her draw back a little. "Congratulations to your friends, then." "Hey, it was just an idea," L'sen defends his name suggestions. And he nods, as though R'hin's words make perfect sense. "Yeah, that's pretty much the same as I felt about Neiveth. There's just no explaining him, you know? ... He's kind of weird like that. It's nice to meet you, by the way. Yselle, huh. Yeah, duties." He beams at the greenrider. The smile widens into a grin. "Same as they were earlier when they were driving you crazy." Harley answers wryly, taking another sip of klah. "Wait till you see my apron. It looks a lot worse than your tunic." Suddenly remembering her manners, she straightens up a little. "Pleased to meet you Ma'am." to Yselle. R'hin takes Harley's words as gentle rebuke, and affects a suitably chastened expression. "Better you than me, I'm clearly not suited to be molding young impressionable minds." He reaches for a jug of redfruit juice in the middle of the table, pouring himself a glass and gulping down half of it in one hit. L'sen receives a sidelong look, almost sheepish. "Yeah," he agrees, quietly, before glancing at Yselle, as if noting her reaction, though not the cause of it. "And you," Yselle's smile is warm for Harley. "You work in the nursery then?" L'sen receives a pleasant nod for his words. "And of course, you." She begins on her food once again, flickering a gaze at R'hin, but missing his glance entirely. "The sands are scorching aren't they? Even in touchings they're never so hot, and you can always leave then, if you need to. The hatching is something else." L'sen glances between the trio idly, blinking as a yawn overtakes him. "Man, it's late. Neiveth wants me to oil a couple of patches on him too before I go to sleep, so I guess I better go. See y'all later," he tells Yselle, R'hin, and Harley together, standing and shuffling toward the door with a wave. Harley sets the klah mug down. Still smiling she nods. "I'm in the nurseries part of them. And they are definitely scorching." she agrees emphatically. "My feet are going to be sore tomorrow too." "Mine are bound to be sore too, for more reasons than one," R'hin adds, with a wink at Yselle, though his tone is light enough to convey his facetious intent. "You think that stuff you used on my bruises would help, Harley?" he straightens to bid L'sen farewell, lifting a hand after the departing rider. "I used to be a nanny," Yselle says conversationally. "I loved it. I still miss it in a way. I never needed an excuse to see my son. I would have gone right back to it if things had turned out differently. But they didn't, so..." she spreads her hands. "I've two more children to thank for them not turning out differently, so I can't complain." R'hin's comment elicits a blush. "Well, I warned you," she tells him. "You took your life into your own hands." Harley slants a look at R'hin. "I don't know to be honest. At least, not with the burnt part of your feet." Turning to Yselle she nods. "Yes. When I first got here I was in the nurseries all the time, but then Thiana found out I could copy and I've been doing several different things now. I don't get to spend as much time down there but I stop in once a day." "So you did," R'hin allows, with a smile to Yselle. "And I'll bear my injuries without complaint. Mostly." Gulping down the rest of his juice, he offers a resigned grin to Harley. "It was worth a try. I was hoping you'd be willing to play nursemaid." Yselle glances with some amusement at R'hin, suggesting, "Well you could limp for a few days and boast how you were injured by a weyrsecond," her eyes dance. She turns her attention back to Harley, saying, "I love to be down there with the kids, even when my own aren't there, although the girls are still young enough." Harley grins. "True enough. I'm tempted to go back down there for a little longer tonight as well." She slants another look at R'hin. "Your in the weyrling barracks now. I'm back in the dorm. We'll both be in trouble if I'm in there." A sudden thought has her grinning impishly "Did you take that crazy cot with you?" Chortled laughter escapes R'hin at Yselle's suggestion. "Oh, that's positively diabolical. I'll do it." His head turns, abruptly, as if hearing something distantly, brow furrowed in concentration. Belatedly: "Hm? Oh, the hammock? I'm not sure if they'd let me. I'll see if I can swing it." The pun is deliberate, if his grin is any indication. Yselle winks at R'hin conspiratorially. "You've got to have /some/ story. - You had a hammock?" She glances over at Harley as if to confirm this tall tale. "Well, you never know until you ask I suppose." Harley laughs at R'hin's answer. "Just don't get yourself thrown off the cliff for a little while." she answers him. She looks at Yselle, still grinning "Oh yes. He wound up with some cobbled together rope cot that works more like a hammock. I'd never seen anything like it." "Ask? I wasn't going to -ask-," R'hin scoffs at the idea. "It was surprisingly comfortable," he confirms. "Plus, whenever I was swinging in it I could hypnotise all the women," he glances sidelong at Harley, amused, "Except for Maja, who's invincible to anything." His lips twitch at Harley's advice. "I think Maja and I've agreed to a ceasefire for the time being. Mostly because we were told it could affect our dragons." And it shouldn't come as any surprise that those two -required- such a warning immediately after the hatching. Harley hears her name and looks around, not hiding the surprise. Seeing one of the nannies though puts the smile back on her face. "Time for me to go. Again, a pleasure meeting you Yselle." as she rises from her seat. R'hin gets that look on his face again, like he's listening to something else for a moment. "I think Leiventh's stirring," he says, faintly, unsure. "I should go and check on him." He rises slowly, smiling to Yselle, "It was a pleasure to meet you, and thank you for the dance. I'll be sure to return the visit when Leiventh and I are flying." He grins at Harley, "I'll see you around." Harley waves at R'hin as she heads towards the lower caverns. "I'm sure you will." she answers as she reaches the nanny who hands her one of the toddlers who is fussing. "Goodnight!" Harley walks through the archway, into the lower caverns. Harley has left. "I'll look forward to it," Yselle promises, waving to Harley as she leaves too. With a flicker of fingers by way of farewell, R'hin grins to Yselle before walking out in the opposite direction from Harley. You stroll outside to the bowl. |
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