a delivery of grapefruits [tags; crystoph, mikail(

[Avu]

He’d requested a bright, emerald green skirt from Anz. It amused Rusa incredibly, the idea of parading into lessons wearing skirts – all four of them, Nautic, Anz, Zan, and himself. He was pretty sure that they could also braid flowers into their hair for added effect – and, to further emphasize Emoyan’s preference towards girls, Rusa had decided to fetch grapefruits. Yes, grapefruits. Eight of them, to be precise – and suffice to say they would not be eaten, and would be covered by his – and the other three Candidates’ – shirts when in use. Annoying Emoyan was good, in Rusa’s opinion; it took his mind off of the Fort invasion a few days ago; it took his mind off his past; it took his mind off of the fact that his palm and fingers itched terribly where he’d managed to cut himself on his dirk – both of which were back in their respective sheaths, cleaned and sharpened to obsessively sharp edges. He hadn’t meant to reveal – ever – that he was from the North; now that he had, Rusa very much expected some ex-Fort person to come and attack him, especially since his dislike for Fort Weyr had been very, very clear.

But they hadn’t, and the Drudges didn’t even give him a second glance when he requested grapefruits. And why would they? It wasn’t like he was planning on substituting grapefruits for breasts (since he, along the other Candidates in question, kind of lacked them) or anything; why would he do that? Actually, Rusa had told the Drudge in question, a very pretty girl of his age, that Emoyan had requested them. He’d also chatted for awhile with her, informing her very seriously that he doubted the Candidatemaster’s eyesight was doing very well (with the explanation that he had mistaken the words ‘Defense Lessons’ for ‘The Rules’), that he could probably teach the classes – by the time he’d finished, he’d even managed to worm two extra grapefruits out of her (just in case; they didn’t need lopsided, fake breasts, did they?) and, after solemnly bowing to her, had departed with the basket of grapefruits, since he couldn’t possibly hold them all at the same time; he’d end up running to and fro after runaway grapefruit.

Crinkling his nose, Rusa bowed his head to the basket, counting each of them and wondering vaguely if they’d need to borrow a breastband or something to keep them in place – and then he rounded a corner and froze after his peremptory look upwards. Positively choking, Rusa almost tripped and fell; as it was, he lowered his head, his hair falling across his face entirely again and concealing it; the longest locks fell around his chin and lips. What – what was wrong with his luck?! People had never questioned his coming from Southern, especially considering the Southern Searchdragon, blue Au-something-th – had Searched him. Then he’d been forced to reveal the fact that he was not Southern-bred, and now? He hadn’t ever told anyone he’d come from Benden Weyr. They probably thought he was from Nerat Hold, considering that he very much resembled the Lord Holder there – and now? He just had to run into one of the only people who would know where he’d come from?

Technically, others might know, too. But he’d avoided them, done a good job of it – and now he’d just rounded a corner and almost run into one of them. One of the twins. He didn’t know which; they’d been Candidates together, but Rusa had always been a horrible Candidate. He’d lived with Aiwyre and her green Seth, and she’d taught him everything from Candidate lessons to how to fight; he’d never interacted with the other Candidates. The only thing he knew about Crystoph and Mikail were that they existed; that they’d seen him and he’d seen them; that the probably knew him as “that greenrider’s weyrmate” or something (apparently one of them had tried to flirt with Aiwyre before? She’d come back and broke into an indignant rant about the audacity of Candidates before informing Rusa that she didn’t, of course, mean him) – and that they knew him and what in Faranth’s name was wrong with him that his luck kept failing?!

Bowing his head, Rusa bit his tongue as he twisted to go past whoever it was, hoping that they hadn’t recognized him for whatever reason. “Delivery of grapefruits for the Candidatemaster, ‘scuse me…”

[Rei]

Crystoph hummed as he walked, putting a bit of bounce into his step merely because he could. Having just returned for a promising interaction with a pretty drudge, (he planned to look her up later) he was in good spirits. Until some idiot bearing a basket full of fruit nearly collided with him. Sidestepping in hurried surprise, the red head still managed to make the awkward movement look slightly graceful. “Hey! Fruitcake. Watch where your…” The candidate paused and a smile lit his face. Oh ho! He knew this one! Now what was his name again? He couldn’t recall but he did remember that the lad’s girlfriend had been particularity hard to flirt with even when the action was meant in play and not true interest.

Eyeing the fruit with a skeptical glance Crystoph flicked his dagger from it’s sheath and stabbed it with a deft movement, causing the juice to squirt from the round citrus, even as the candidate turned to avoid him. “What’s the hurry? I have a question for you.” He let the question hang for a moment just to build suspense. Deftly Crystoph plucked “injured” grapefruit from the basket and studied it. “Why grapefruit? Is the guy loony? These things are horribly sour at their best.”

Really Crystoph wanted to sit the other candidate down and give him the third degree. However he refrained form doing so. If Rufa? Ruka? Whatever, wanted to continue to play pretend he was game. This candidate, for one, had no desire to reveal his true origins. He wasn’t stupid. Such an action would be borderline suicidal at the moment with the siege still a sore spot for more than half the weyr’s population. Taking a quick glance around to make sure they weren’t attracting to much attention, the red head pulled his dagger from the fruit. He wiped it on his pants before sheathing it one handed. Mikail should be here soon. He would feel safer with his brother watching his back as he decided what exactly to do about the current situation. “Seriously grapefruit?” Crystoph intentionally kept his voice light in am attempt to keep the situation from becoming charged. It wouldn’t do to start an altercation in broad daylight.

[Avu]

Fruitcake, was he? Rusa simply smiled, the expression cold and obviously fake – and then he stiffened at the silver of a knife, preparing to twist away. Better to dodge at the last moment, or else the blow could be twisted in time to compensate for said dodge, even if it would lack the original strength – but it was clear from the start that he was not the target of the blow – one of the grapefruits in his basket were. For a moment, Rusahre was tempted to actually sneer. Showing off: Rusa didn’t do it. He carried around two blades; only one was readily visible, and that was more of a warning than anything else, and the Candidate didn’t for any reason just start whipping them around for the fun of it; he took them out if he thought that they would actually be needed, and even then he didn’t start stabbing fruit. That was a complete waste – and soon enough, he’d become predictable and just that much easier to defeat, as far as Rusa was concerned. He had knives, he knew he could use them and use them well – that was good enough for him; he didn’t feel the need to show off that he could. As far as showing off went, Rusa much preferred to show off his intelligence; much easier to mouth off to prove a point and less lethal than waving his dirks around.

Nevertheless, Rusa stopped, keeping his gaze straight ahead as the other Candidate spoke. A question for him? His chin lifted slightly, and for a moment, he was tempted to grab the fruit back from the idiot, inform him that he was under absolutely no obligation to answer his questions whether they be one or twenty, and leave – but his temper faded after that second. He didn’t want to start wars. He didn’t. Rusa was innately a quiet person, but he could be friendly enough. Having a knife waved around in his face made him automatically defensive, but that didn’t mean that he whipped his out, too, or started snarling at whoever it was. If they weren’t intelligent enough to figure out that knives looked much more impressive sheathed when not in use, that was their problem, not his – and if the kid was trying to impress or intimidate him, it was not working.

Awarding Crystoph with a small, ironic smile, Rusa shifted the basket to his right hip, away from Crystoph – which casually exposed his belt sheath, which was on his left side. As far as knives went, Rusa could use both hands equally, even though when it came to writing, he was lefthanded – definite advantage, as far as he was concerned. “Yes, he’s loony,” he replied coolly. “For the record – I didn’t say he requested them; I said they were for him. I also didn’t say that he – or anybody else, for that matter – was planning on eating them.” He was being deliberately cryptic, he knew, and some part of him bridled at the thought of the Candidate or his brother befriending any of “Rusa’s” Candidates – Mer, Anusha, Nautic, Anz, or Zan. They were his. He’d laid claim to them – would protect them. Each and every one of the five, even if they didn’t need protecting, the three boys especially. But neither would he allow it if this Candidate decided for whatever reason that his lesson rotation needed to trump Rusa’s.

Which Rusa was fairly confident was impossible, since they not only had someone making skirts for them, but they also had grapefruits, and Rusa was planning on drawing a huge, obnoxious red heart on paper, writing ‘Emoyan loves his female Candidates’ on it, and pinning it onto the bulletin board (and basically covering up the rules and every other important document pinned there) just for their lessons. His original plan had been to put ‘Mer and Emoyan’ or something – but that had been before he’d decided he actually liked both Mer and Anusha, at least a little. “Now,” Rusa added, one eyebrow rising; he was unable to add the one last comment, “I’d thank you to give me that boob back, and not stab any more of them – I certainly didn’t worm them out of Riaena” – the Drudge’s name – “so that you could have fun misusing your knife. Besides, boobs are only convincing when they’re not leaking citrus juice~”

Well – it was true.

[Ruby]

Mikail grinned wolfishly at the sweetrolls in his hands, then continued to stuff his face with the one that had already been partly demolished. Sweetrolls were his favorite, and the twins ate quite a bit, so Mik had four (well, technically three and a half) taking up both hands. The food on the boat hadn't been bad, but it had been fairly scarce, especially for two untried sailors that had only really managed to talk their way on board, not shown any real skill. A dining hall that provided practically anything you wanted at all hours of the day and night for little more than a wink and some pretty words? Halfway to heaven. Cry had left him alone to work his magic, but Mik knew he'd be waiting for his brother to catch up- the twins were rarely far apart if they could help it (unless girls were involved, of course). He'd be just around the corner, lounging against the wall, probably flipping a knife and keeping an eye out for the Candidatemaster, or anyone else that might care that they were wandering around without permission. That was the way it had worked at Benden, at least.

As a result of this train of thought, Mikail practically choked when he DID round the corner. Instead of a lone Cry, happily waiting to lose a finger, there was Cry and another boy. Mikail had been so intent on eating his sweetroll that he hadn't even heard them talking, although it was clear that they had been. A brief glance at the other boy caused a second shock- he recognized that dark, shaggy hair and distinctive chin- Ruh-something, a candidate (apparently ex-candidate) at Benden. Last Mikail had checked, the boy had still been there, but rumor had it that someone close to him had also died in the Siege. Neither of the twins had had much contact with him, but no matter. Mik and Cry were here for sanctuary, not to have their origins trumpeted to all the Weyr. How were they supposed to do that if Ruh... Rus? Something?... blabbed?

Swallowing hastily, Mik shoved half the rolls at his twin, then wiped a slightly sticky hand on his pants, unknowingly imitating Crystoph's blade-wiping from moments before. He could tell that something had gone on between these two, but apparently it hadn't flared up yet, thank Faranth. Mikail could usually talk his way out of whatever Crystoph got them into, but it was much easier if nothing had actually come to violence. He realized the other Candidate was still talking... and caught the word boob. What did that have to do with Crystoph having his knife out? Only convincing when... Mikail made the connection, and his eyes widened. Stifling a laugh, he couldn't stop himself from asking "Wait, you're using those as boobs? What on Pern for?" Offering a hand that hopefully wasn't sticky anymore, Mikail grinned broadly at the other Candidate. "I'm pleased to make the acquaintance of someone who sees the need for grapefruit-sized boobs. They are wonderful things. I'm Mikail, and this is Crystoph. I know I've... seen you around," That was vague enough, and hesitant enough, that the Candidate would hopefully realize that neither of them wanted their origins known, "But I'm not sure I caught your name."

[Rei]

Crystoph glared and snorted at Rusa’s deliberate attempt to bait him. If the other candidate wanted to be difficult he could be just as false. In fact he had already intended to be. His hand twitched with the desire to draw his blade again, but he resisted. The other candidate had deliberately displayed his weapon in warning, and besides Crystoph had no desire to get kicked out of Selenitas for cutting someone up. The twins had just gotten here after all and Mikail would have a complete hissy fit if he blew their cover this early. Instead Crystoph took a deliberately defensive stance as movement was seen out of the corner of his eye. He immediately relaxed his posture a fraction. Mikail. He hadn’t been far behind after all and he looked like he completed his original objective well enough. His brother’s surprised reaction was noticed. Yes they where obviously not the only Benden deserters anymore. Pity wasn’t it?

Rusa’s tirade about boobs had Crystoph lifting an eyebrow. What? Boobs? He was planning on using the grapefruits as boobs? What in Faranth’s name? Rusa was saved a deliberately nasty comment by Mikail’s friendly appearance however. His brother obviously had a knack for finding him when he was about to get into a violent frame of mind. A fact which was both a curse and a blessing at times. As Mikail filled his hands with sweet rolls Crystoph couldn’t help but roll his eyes. One couldn’t very well draw a weapon when their hands where full. Unless he wanted to drop perfectly good food. Which he didn't. Snot. He offered his brother a half smile before shifting into a more comfortable stance, a signal that he was through being difficult for the moment. Mikail had decided to be friendly and as long as Rusa was willing to continue the sentiment he was willing to play casual observer. Crystoph didn’t trust Rusa. Whether or not their origins where the same Rusa had not yet proven himself to be someone the candidate was able to trust.

Mikail’s deliberate attempt at immediate diffusion of tension caused Crystoph to immediately lose interest in baiting. Instead he lifted one of the sweet rolls to his mouth and took a bite, savoring it for a moment. Flicking his wrist, he causally tossed one to Rusa. Perhaps a peace offering of sorts. As long as the dark haired ex-Benden didn’t squeal he was fine. “So the Candidatemaster is a loony? Thanks for the warning. I guess lessons will be interesting then.” Flicking a glance at his twin he arched an eyebrow. “First lesson starts in a few days. I still don’t see why we are even going. The whole thing is stupid.” The statement was only slightly revealing. Crystoph and Mikail had graduated from Benden candidacy years ago and gone on to specialize in certain fields. Candidate lessons would be a real pain in the rear. Did Selenitas even offer specialization in hand to hand combat with weapons? Crystoph highly doubted it. Although he did remember a cheerful note about defense lessons. Maybe he could drag Mikail along purely for observation.

[Avu]

Another one. Rusa’s gaze, gold and brown, flicked towards Mikail as the other boy approached, carrying sweetrolls in his hands. Both of them? Ugh. He seriously needed to have a firm talking-to with his luck about not betraying him around every other corner – and he’d have to figure out what he was supposed to do about his papers, too; they probably still marked him down as coming from Southern Hold. Which, kind of, he had. Rusa doubted Emoyan would see it as thus, though. Hnn. The basket of grapefruits was awarded a swift glance-over again – he couldn’t afford to loose too many more before he got back to the Barracks; his friends needed their grapefruits, thank you very much – and if Mikail thought stabbing grapefruits was a great way to show off like his brother clearly did, Rusa would have to protest. He didn’t want to; Rusa had never gone around waving his knife in the air like a barbarian or anything, and he didn’t intend to start, but he wouldn’t stand for being pushed around, either. If Fort hadn’t sent him hiding under a table, these two wouldn’t, either.

Mikail’s question made Rusahre turn his head towards the boy, and an expression that, in any other situation, could have been a friendly smile flickered across his face. It was a pity that he wasn’t in their Candidate rotation; Rusa trusted that Anz could make skirts aplenty. For the sake of politeness, he did shake Mikail’s hand, though the same courtesy was not offered to Crystoph. If the other kid was friendly, he’d be friendly, Benden origins notwithstanding. Just because someone grew up in a hellhole didn’t mean they had to act like it; he didn’t think that he did. The introduction – and the comment on seeing him around – made Rusa’s eyes narrow slightly, though his smile didn’t falter as he bowed his head in a silent nod, extracting his hand from Mikail’s to balance the basket of grapefruits again. Nobody had seemed to care that he came from the North – but then, they didn’t know specifics. Rusa could be very good at turning away questions he didn’t want to answer.

“I’m Rusahre…Rusa,” he answered softly, and then tilted his head slightly to one side, glancing at Crystoph and Mikail both before he added, “I’m sorry…the Weyr is a large place. You’ll forgive me if I don’t recall your faces…” It was a lie, a blatant lie – Rusa had a very good memory, especially for people who made Aiwyre rage, considering that the greenrider had enough sense not to rage to their faces and therefore had always returned to their weyr and raged to him. It was also an opportunity for the pair to agree, renounce their past. Too late for him; not too late for them. his reasons for not up and reporting them? – purely selfish. It was information, information they clearly did not want spread – it could, purportedly, be blackmail material. He didn’t think it’d be necessary, but – just in case…“Nevertheless, I’m pleased to meet you…both.”

Automatically catching the roll that Crystoph tossed to him in his left hand, Rusa nodded at the other boy, a flicker of a smile crossing his features as he raised the roll to his mouth, biting off of it and swallowing before he added, “In answer to your question, we – myself, Nautic, Anzalorin, and Zanalorin – are using them as boobs because, if you hadn’t noticed, we, alas, do not have natural ones…” Not that he’d want to be a girl, but…Rusa smirked slightly, playfully. “They’re for the Candidatemaster…he favors the girls, so we decided to…indulge him. Anz is making us skirts; I figured I’d get the grapefruits.” He smiled widely; it was clear that he was looking forward to Candidate Lessons. To Crystoph – the boy was being nicer, at least; it sounded cheesy, but facts were facts. He wasn’t threatening grapefruit with knives, anyway – Rusa nodded. He thought Emoyan was loony, though he was very much aware that both Anusha and Mer would reject this idea with great horror at the thought – but Rusa was privately sure that his opinion would be shared by the two ex-Benden Candidates.

“Be sure you sit as far away from him as possible, slouch all over the seat – and watch him work his magic; he seems to think that we, as ‘children’, are incapable of understanding the concept of sitting up straight without him dragging us around by our ears…?” Rusa shrugged slightly. “He also hates it when he can’t see your eyes – “ One hand rose, gesturing towards his hair absently, and the Candidate took a bite of the sweetroll at the same time. “And he treats the girls like they’re his class pets. You could, you know, always go just to annoy him…that’s why I’m going.”

[Ruby]

"Glad to meet you too, Rusa," Mikail said, still smiling. Despite the initial shock of seeing another ex-Bended here, Mik was truly glad to see a familiar face, no matter how dangerous it might turn out to be. Rusa's next statement, though, made Mik quite a bit more comfortable. "The Weyr certainly is a big place," he responded, "And we hardly recognized you any more than you did us. Just interested in all the grapefruit." There. If that didn't make it clear that the twins wanted their origins to remain hidden as much as Rusa did, he didn't know what would. Hopefully Rusa was trustworthy enough, but to be fair, he had just as much riding on the 'agreement' as the twins did.

Listening to the explaination of the grapefruits, Mikail had to laugh again. If nothing else, Rusa had an excellent sense of humor. "I'd love to see THAT. If only..." He had been about to mention Benden's old Candidatemaster, but hastily re-directed his thoughts. He'd have to be more careful, especially around Rusa- Mik loved to have something in common with people, but in this case he had to watch his tounge and his mind. "If only we were in your rotation, not the next one. Hopefully ours will be half as interesting." He listened to Rusa's suggestions for lessons, trying to memorize them in case the man turned out to be half as awful as he sounded.

Mikail watched Rusa shift the grapefruit basket once again, and realized that that thing must be kind of awkward to carry around. "Well, that looks heavy. Good luck with your boobs- I hope they look so luscious the poor fool can't resist." He was about to take his leave when something caught his mind. "Wait a minute... you say you have skirts and boobs, but do you have makeup? All the most gorgeous girls paint their faces." The emphasis made it obvious what Mikail thought of girls who used too much makeup, but thinking of Cry's eyeliner up in his trunk made him unable to resist. His twin probably wouldn't be pleased with the suggestion, but Mikail could talk him into it if Rusa was interested.

[Rei]

Crystoph actually smiled at Rusa as the boy spoke. The smile was guarded, but it was there nonetheless. “Really now. I would pay to see that. Pity we aren’t in the same rotation.” He stretched his arms and glanced back at Mikail. “I’m Crystoph by the way. The weyr is a big place. No wonder we have never run into each other.” The red head emphasized the word intentionally. Obviously they had, but really it didn't matter. Rusa seemed just as intent to keep his true origins hidden. Flicking his hair over his shoulder, Crystoph pulled out his dagger and began picking under his nails. “Sexist loon huh? Sounds like a blast. Maybe I will go. Just to see how big of an idiot this Emo guy really is.” The candidate intentionally smirked at his brother. “You know…Mik we look enough alike that we might be able to confuse him. I vote we switch places next class. You be me and I’ll be you. See if he can tell the difference. I’ll bet he can‘t.”

Crystoph scowled at Mikail as he mentioned makeup, and ducked forward to wrap an arm around his brother’s shoulder. “There, there, little brother. I am sure Rusa can find his own makeup. Or maybe you are interested in it yourself? I am sure we can find a few painted up southern broads for you to mess with. I know how you prefer them.” The jab was intended to be a joke and a warning. No lending out his eyeliner please. It had taken him forever to find the right one. He arched an eyebrow upwards playfully and then turned back to face Rusa, painting a smile on his face. “Either way if we can help let us know. I am going to look forward to the rumors.” He would too. Seeing the Candidatemaster’s reaction would be priceless. To bad they where in opposite rotations. Maybe he could lurk outside the classroom just until the class started. The red head wanted to see how these costumes ended up looking.

The comment about Emoyan preferring girls however, privately worried Crystoph. Why did he prefer the girls? Already Crystoph was developing something of a small friendship with Sasheen. He didn’t want her upset by some old perverted idiot. Tucking his dagger back into it’s sheath he sighed. “Besides making boobs, what do you do around here for fun?” The candidate turned back to Rusa. “Seriously so far I’m horribly bored.” Southern living was so not as interesting as he originally thought. It was a bit to laid back. Mikail enjoyed it but Crystoph had nothing to take his edge off. Maybe all he needed was just a good lay. It had been awhile. Hmmm.

[Avu]

It would be a lie to say that Rusa’s intentions were purely innocent, because they weren’t. He’d already been forced to admit he came from the North, and technically, he’d never specified what part of the North – his position wasn’t as precarious as theirs was. If they decided to spill, it wouldn’t hurt him nearly as much as his spilling would hurt them. Rusa didn’t tattle without reason – he just didn’t: It felt wrong and it came off as completely untrustworthy. Even if he disliked the two – which he didn’t – he wouldn’t, because disliking someone was not a basis for ruining their lives. But Rusa – he did have people he intended to protect, but when it came down to it, he wouldn’t sacrifice himself for anyone else, and if he needed to blackmail, he would. It paid to keep secrets. In friendship? Maybe, but it went past that, too. Rusahre, ironically enough, did not trust people from Benden Weyr – to be precise, he didn’t trust the men. He’d seen sexism, he’d seen rape; he hadn’t said anything for his and Aiwyre’s sake, but – he did have some level of possessiveness to this new Weyr. He did. It seemed unlikely that Mikail and Crystoph would come with bad intentions – such as the intention to spy, with Benden in ruins as it was, but he didn’t know them well enough to be sure.

Did he say any of this? No. Rusa simply nodded, silently, leaving it at that: What more was to be said? Both Mikail and Crystoph had made it very obvious that they wanted to pretend that they knew nothing of him save for perhaps the briefest of glimpses in Selenitas Weyr – he could do that. And, in that case, there was nothing else to say. He did smirk, though, tilting his head slightly to one side, at the two. “Maybe I could brief you on everything he covers, and then you can regurgitate it to him, and then maybe he’ll move you up a lesson,” he commented dryly, knowing full well he wouldn’t have to do any briefing at all. Pfft. “The second lesson’s all on ranks and what we’re supposed to do for chores, too,” he added, knowing full well that he had no need to be talking – but it made the conversation that much more convincing for anyone passing. “So – I mean, memorize the names of all the ranking people…and learn how to cut up meat and sweep the floor…?” He shrugged, dismissively, making his opinion on the necessity of lessons clear.

Mikail’s comment drew a grin from Rusa, and he dropped his head to glance at the fruit again, crinkling his nose. Somehow, he doubted they’d actually come out looking right – but the thought was what counted, right? As if it wouldn’t be obvious what they were trying to do. Even Emoyan wasn’t that stupid, surely. Crystoph’s idea, though, made Rusa consider the other boy, and then he grinned slightly. “You should,” he commented dryly, “and keep on switching identities throughout the lesson – whenever he calls on one of you.” Heck, he hadn’t even been able to pick them apart, and he’d seen them before – no, wait. No, no, he’d never seen them before – but then, neither had Emoyan. He shook his head, nonetheless, at the offer for makeup, and he quirked one eyebrow at Mikail playfully, disregarding for the moment Crystoph’s response to the idea. “What, don’t you think I’m pretty enough without it?” Sniffing indignantly, the Candidate shook his head, and then smirked slightly. “I want him to be able to recognize me – I’ll make an absolutely stunning girl without the makeup. Thanks, though…”

As far as what fun there was – “Um, none?” He shrugged, crinkling his nose slightly. “I guess you could wander around the jungle, pick fruit, and throw it at people from some open window or something – I don’t know. There’s nothing really obviously fun – you’d have to go looking. Or somehow figure out how to make Lessons and Chores fun.” He’d managed both, but of course – not everyone could be expected to be as intelligent and creative as he (arrogant, who, Rusa?). He nodded, and then added reasonably, “Of course, you could always – you know, attend one of the Salamandyr or firelizard Hatchings and get a pet – I’m going for the Salamandyr one, though technically it’s against the rules…” But he wanted one – they were cute and they talked. Like dragons…

[Ruby]

Ah, much better than pulling knives on eachother. Mikail had to allow himself a tiny secret smile- He liked it when other people got along, and he liked being able to influence that too. Rusa and Crystoph might not be friends, exactly (certianly not yet), but at least you couldn't cut the tension in the hallway with a knife anymore. Not to mention other things that could be cut with knives. All in all, Mik was glad that they were at least smiling at eachother instead of glaring. It was a pleasant change. The Benden Issue, as Mikail thought of it, also seemed to be solved, and with a minimum of drama. It was an uneasy truce, certainly- Mik wouldn't protect Rusa if it came down to it, and he didn't expect Rusa not to spill either- but it was a truce none the less. It would work.

Lessons, though, would still be a pain in the ass. Of course all three boys knew Candidate lessons backwards and forwards, but what could they do? Pretend they were from some other Weyr? So Rusa's idea was a welcome relief, drawing a bark of laughter from Mik. "Heh, let him get started and then just talk over him until he's done... I like that idea. I doubt he'd bump us, though. I think Lessons are designed spesifically to torture us for as long as possible." At least Rusa had something fun to do- and the Candidatemaster's reaction to several of his students showing up in skirts was sure to take up valuable class time.

Switching, though... that could be excellent. "I think we should," he said, allowing a grin to creep onto his face. This was an excellent plan. He pulled his hair forward over his shoulders, then slouched into his brother's relaxed-but-alert stance, flipping one of his sweetrolls as if it were a dagger. "We can totally pull it off." That was the understatement of the century- they had been spesifically trained to it back at Benden, when the Weyr's trainers had begun teaching them skills they had hoped the boys could (or would) use for spying. Nothing had ever come of it, as neither of them had yet impressed, but they were still quite adept at swapping at a moment's notice. Straightening back into his normal stance and taking a bite out of the sweetroll, Mik added, "But we'd better wait until the second lesson so he knows there's two of us. Or maybe only one of us could go, and we could convince the Weyr we're one person..."

Mik let his sentence trail off as Crys grabbed him around the shoulders, crushing his twin to his side. "Alright, alright, no make-up!" Mik conceeded with both his hands up in mock surrender. "And you're quite beautiful as you are, Rusa. No adjustments needed," he added playfully, reaching out to squeeze one of the grapefruits suggestively with a seductive look and an eyebrow raised. Possibly that was going too far- certainly some boys would take offense, but Rusa seemed to be spearheading an effort to dress as a girl, so hopefully he'd take the joke.

Talk of a hatching brought Mikail back to seriousness, though. "Yeah, I've heard about Salamandyrs, but I'm not sure I've seen one. What are they, and how come they're against the rules?" he asked. It was always a good idea to know what rule you were breaking before you did it. And hatchings... obviously, Mik had never had any luck so far, not even with firelizards. He'd lost interest in those hatchings after a little while, as in his eyes flits were so inferior to dragons, but he wouldn't object, and he'd like to see a salamandyr up close.