bright colors are best~ [R'wign&M'ta;;Mask Stall]

[Avu]

It was…um, bright.

Not the stall itself; that was rather plain – but the masks that adorned it were definitely…very extravagant, to say the least. Meira blinked at it curiously – she wouldn’t have spotted it had it not been directly in their path to the Gather square, and had it not had a glittering silver dress that swept the grass hung up in front of it. It seemed that most of the people going out had masks, and it…was a masquerade, so…“I guess that’s our first stop,” she observed, indicating said stall to her two companions – ‘servants,’ Jingth called them. Slightly self-conscious, she felt, without the masks while everyone else had them. Well – at least neither R’wign or M’ta had a mask either. Yet. R’wign she’d wanted to go with because of the things that she needed to buy: Things for the baby. Not a crib (thankfully; she didn’t have enough marks to buy that as well as everything else), since Ka’rys had already made them one, but…things. Toys, maybe clothes that could go either way where gender was concerned…? M’ta had just…been pulled along for the ride: Everybody had to go to Gather; it was the Weyr hosting it, after all.

Jingth was padding after them, the gold hatchling’s still clumsy pace somewhat awkward as people hurried back and forth past her. Why would you want to wear those funny things on your face? she questioned curiously, watching as someone with a full-face mask on hurried by. They do not make you prettier…they just hide your face. She pushed her head forward to look curiously past R’wign, and then crooned low in her throat as another person left (clad in mask and obscenely frilly shirt). But if you must, I will wait out here. I don’t think I can fit inside. The hatchling crooned again, pulling back in order to go around M’ta to a spot where none of the stalls blocked the sun, where she promptly flopped, sprawling out and spreading both wings as wide as she could as she turned her head to croon encouragingly to Hers and the two servantmales.

“Yes…?” Meira glanced at Jingth for a moment before she ducked into the shop and was promptly pounced on (figuratively, not literally, or she would likely have fallen) by a girl around her own age in an almost obscenely bright dress, hair done up elegantly, and a gold, black, and cream mask, who smiled brightly at her amid a chattered greeting and then slid around her to grab both R’wign and M’ta by the wrists, pulling them forward into the shop even as she chattered, delighted and seemingly oblivious to the concept of manners.

“Hi, hi, hello, I’m Eriena and oh, are you buying masks and stuff? There’re so many, we’ve got the most ever, come look – hmm.” Her head tilted, and she stared critically from R’wign (if his having only one eye put her off at all, she gave no sign of it) to M’ta to Meira, and then back again, before she clapped both hands together, releasing both brownriders in the process. “Do you have color preferences? Bright colors preferably, yes? Everyone likes bright colors; they’re the prettiest, don’t you think?” She pointed at her dress for an example; today it was lime green with darker green trim and clashed with her mask, but that didn’t seem to both Eriena in the least. “Here, let me see…were you going to get new outfits, too? I could match them if you like, or would you prefer to just match them with what you’re already wearing? I promise they’ll actually match, too, I know mine don’t,” and she cringed theatrically, crinkling her nose expressively. “But they will, hones – ”

The blue firelizard on the counter gave a bored chirp (as much as to say ‘stop talking’), and Eriena threw him a testy look before she turned back to her three customers, smiling brightly. Yes. They were hers. By the time this was over she’d have sold more than her mum would ever dream of selling!~

Meira eyed the girl uncertainly, having taken an involuntary step back so that she wasn’t standing in front of either R’wign or M’ta, but was rather level with them instead. Um. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea. Eriena’s enthusiasm was…kind of intimidating? Well. Um. R’wign could go first – or M’ta, because…she had no idea what kind of mask to get. Certainly she wouldn’t be buying another dress; she’d already had to borrow the one she was currently wearing given that the distension of her stomach made sure she didn’t fit into any of her other dresses – and she doubted they had anything intended for maternity here. Which they didn’t, as a glance around the stall proved. Well…M’ta and R’wign could get those ridiculously frilly shirts then; she’d just settle for a mask…

I still don’t see the point of masks. And those dresses look like they’d swallow people alive. I think you should get one. Even if you can’t wear it now because of our clutch, you can wear it /after/, yes?

[glamourie]

Do you intend to wear a costume?

Checkoth’s question breezed easily through R’wign’s mind. The healer mentally shrugged, though outwardly remained composed. His dragon was lounging on one of the large rocks surrounding the waterfall, positively draped over it with his tails both hanging into the water. From the position, he could see clearly the whole of the Gather, without being near enough to be involved. He didn’t generally mind crowds, but R’wign was with Meira, and… he was uncomfortable with Jingth. Not ‘afraid’ per sey, but he didn’t know how to respond to her. He ran into much the same problem with Hepaticath and Millieth, though he was naturally disarmed around the latter due to His’s fondness for Millieth’s rider. That and of the three queens at Selenitas, Checkoth had the most interaction with Millieth… and she’d never been unkind to him. She’d even invited him once onto her weyrledge. He liked her very much, though he would never be comfortable enough with her to seek her out just to talk. He was trying though. His liked Millieth’s… a lot. He’d even told Millieth. But Jingth? Jingth was new… and she was a bit frightening at times. She seemed so abrupt. He didn’t know how to react to her, so Checkoth did the sensible thing and hid from her, and avoided her most of the time. Hiding.

R’wign was doing his best to ignore his dragon’s discomfort about the young queen. Wisely, he hadn’t told Meira how Checkoth felt; no doubt she’d be uncomfortable, upset even, and the last thing he wanted was to cause her pain over something that should have been very, very happy. So he kept his mouth shut, and hoped that Checkoth would work things through himself soon enough. Soon. As for a costume, R’wign hadn’t decided; bright obnoxious colors were not unusual for him, but -- well, he didn’t know. He wasn’t really feeling much like a celebration. Part of it was Checkoth’s mood but most of his problems stemmed from anxiety of his own. It had nothing to do with his companions though. He just didn’t feel much like partying. What he felt like doing was sleeping until he was caught up on all that he’d missed.

Movement next to him made him drop his head just in time to be nudged by Jingth peeking around him and he quirked an eyebrow at her. His colorful entourage sailing behind him circled overhead, before Ellie swept down to land on his shoulder again, and as the gold dragon made her way aside, the pack of fire lizards followed. They whirled around, circling, before coming to land neatly on Jingth -- all seven. Only Ellie remained away, perching on her mindmate possessively. He ducked into the shop after Meira and then backed up immediately, his response instinctive, as Ellie peeped in confusion. His wrist was seized and he blinked blankly as she pulled him forward. And he stared. Yes, it was rude, no, he didn’t care: what in Faranth’s name was the woman’s problem? No one had any excuse to ever be that ridiculously happy, unless it was faked but hers seemed real. Creepy.

His mouth slammed shut to prevent him from gaping like a fish and R’wign crinkled his nose. “I - mask - I -”

You should buy one! Get one that covers only the left side of your face. I bet they make those, Checkoth offered helpfully and R’wign turned a scalding glare in the direction of the waterfall in response. Well, you’d look good in it!

Bright… colors…? “I don’t like bright,” R’wign protested, with a definitely petulant note in his voice. “And I’m not wearing bright.” His nose crinkled, and he looked down at his outfit, before shaking his head. His Gather finery was… boring. ‘Bright’ definitely didn’t describe it. Black on dark green -- he always biased toward darker shades as they suited him more. “Don’t you have anything um -- not bright…?” He wouldn’t have minded, except it wouldn’t match his clothes at all. It just wouldn’t. Maybe he should’ve gone to the stall with the different outfits to pick out something but it hadn’t occurred to him… Really, his focus was on acquiring some toys for his and Meira’s as-of-yet unborn child. “Like, I don’t know - a nice… black… anything… are we supposed to wear costumes?” He did not want to wear bright colors. A costume he could do, but bright obnoxious shades -- he just wasn’t in the mood. Maybe it was grouchiness due to lack of proper sleep? Hmm… hard to say.

“I vote you dress M’ta first.” So kind of him.

[Requiem]

Checkbrother, it is rude, isn't it? That was the third time he'd asked the question. Behruth was rather bothered by the fact that he couldn't accompany Theirs through the stalls like Jingth did. Sure, he could just...lounge in open spaces and have people crawl over him, but what was the fun in that? Better to be with his clutchsibling. Still, that didn't diminish his annoyance. This was a Gather at a Weyr. Shouldn't they make it large enough for a small brown? Shouldn't they?!

Nudging his 'weyrmate,' his tail splashed through the water peevishly. You really must sun with us sometime. Jingth is little and will not squish you like Happycath. She doesn't squish me, Behruth blathered on obliviously. Truthfully, he was generally more sedate, but the brown's desire to be right in there with all the riders was nearly overwhelming. He was a social creature, after all. And Checkoth was unusually...not...talkative.

They certainly had to seem a particularly awkward threesome compared to all the revelers bouncing from stall to stall and haggling at the tops of their lungs. M'ta's hand kept on drifting to his empty belt sheath (empty because Behruth had somehow managed to organize little thieving parties of who knew how many pets in order to remove all such sharp objects) and then he'd glare down at the emptiness and resume watching the mingling people narrowly. He didn't do Gathers. For one thing, they always brought back interesting memories of sneaking around between the stalls and under carts, lifting anything he could get his hands on. Needless to say, that made him even more jumpy than he normally was around vast groups of strangers. Nor was Behruth willing to budge on the forced disarmament.

Pointies are bad. You fight. You get hurt. See? You won't fight without pointies. Correction. I'd just fight poorly without 'pointies'. To which, of course, Ruth didn't bother to reply. This argument was days old, after all.

So if he was pressing a little closer to Meira and R'wign than usual, it had very little to do with any true desire to be near the twain. How they'd managed to convince him to tag along was anyone's guess, really. M'ta surely had no clue. Except...he didn't really like not knowing where they were, if he were honest. Possessive much?

He was, in effect, so distracted that he did not really notice when Meira stopped, her words falling on deaf ears. The hand suddenly on his wrist, however, was noticed, particularly since it resulted in M'ta's being dragged forward. He hissed in surprise, yanking his arm away and glaring at the brightly colored woman, his expression nothing short of murderous. Fortunately for her, she was already babbling and likely didn't notice.

Convinced that the girl was surely hiding something bloody and nasty behind her back (else why would she be slowly slaying them with all this cheer? no one was ever that happy) the smaller of the two brownriders began to edge slowly around to see if he could figure out what it was she was hiding. His fingers again sought out the nonexistant hilt. He was going to flay Behruth for what this was doing to his nerves!

R'wign's words finally registered on M'ta. "Dress me?" By this time he'd worked his way entirely around the girl and was seriously considering checking beneath her skirt. Women had so many inconvenient (for him) places to hide things. "In what? I'm the size of a wherry." No use denying the truth. Short M'ta might be, but it wasn't as if he'd fit into a child's suit of clothing any better than he would, say, R'wign's. "He's the one who needs the mask, thank you."

Yes, it was blunt and wholly insensitive, but M'ta was distracted. Now how to check her for nasties without getting clobbered as a pervert...

[Avu]

Well. Um. Meira’s reaction was hardly inviting, but R’wign’s stammering made her glance sideways at him, biting her lip nervously before she awkwardly glanced around for M’ta and…found him…edging around the shopkeeper? Meira swallowed nervously and interlaced her fingers behind her back, still trying to put herself behind R’wign, seeing as M’ta had…deserted them. The goldweyrling usually preferred it when other people did the talking since it spared her that, but this was just awkward; the girl’s chatter made her distinctly uncomfortable – that she didn’t seem to notice or was in any way put off by the lack of response to her cheer was an upside, but…she still felt slightly bad for not being able to be as cheerful as Eriena. If that was…possible, given the girl’s seemingly excessive happiness. What had put her in such a good mood, running the Masquerade Stall? Her fingers twisted awkwardly, and Meira couldn’t help biting her tongue, glancing at her two companions again nervously. Their exchange would have usually made her roll her eyes or smile, but…

“It’s a masquerade,” the girl responded, emphasizing the word as her eyes widened behind her mask. “Of course you’re supposed to wear a costume!” One hand rose to adjust the mask that covered half of her face, and she nodded, emphatically. “At least a mask. And yeah, we have not-bright stuff, but…it’s not as pretty. It’s just kind of plain. We have lots of costumes, too, though – you could always get a costume to match a mask. That way it can be bright. And,” she added firmly, turning to look at M’ta curiously, “What are you doing? I’ll dress you both, and her too” – she indicated Meira – “and it won’t be any trouble at all, and he doesn’t need a mask, except that it’s for a masquerade, so yes, I guess it’s – ”

“Could we look around on our own?” Meira interjected; she cringed for cutting the girl off mid-tirade, but she hadn’t shown any sign of stopping and – it seemed that she’d be the only one who suggested such a thing (certainly neither R’wign nor M’ta looked like they were about to). The idea of hurting Eriena’s feelings was not a good one; she blinked, nervously, still twisting her fingers behind her back awkwardly, as the girl stopped talking and turned towards her, looking more surprised than anything else at the suggestion. “I mean,” Meira added, uneasily, “It – it’s just…easier that way, I think…” Bad idea, bad idea; she’d be offended and then Meira would feel bad – she squirmed slightly, just barely resisting the urge to sidestep to put R’wign almost directly in front of her out of instinct, and felt Jingth press at her mind curiously. “It’s not…personal or anything…” Though, it was, kind of; she wouldn’t have minded a shopkeeper, but Eriena was just…just intimidating.

The girl blinked at her again, and then smiled just as brightly as before. “Sure!” she replied, and then turned and nearly ran into M’ta before she sidestepped around him. “Call me if you need help, okay? Or you can send Handsome to get me; ‘cause Mum might need me for something – he’s that blue firelizard over there and he’s grumpy but he’ll do it, just ignore him if he fusses at you~” With which, she glided, glittered, and gleamed into the background, past rows of masks and costumes, until she’d more or less disappeared from view.

Meira exhaled, and then wrapped both arms around her abdomen instead. “Um. I hope neither of you mind – I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to be like – the only one without a mask…” That would be decidedly uncomfortable, but this pretty much matched up to it, and the goldweyrling wasn’t quite sure if entering the Masquerade Stall had been a mistake or not. Maybe they should’ve just cut out paper masks or something…and she was ridiculously nervous of offending Eriena. It didn’t seem like someone that happy should be offended; it just didn’t feel right – though she seemed not to have noticed the looks she’d received from both M’ta and R’wign in turn. Hmm.

Humans are most amusing, was Jingth’s comment. The gold was sprawled inelegantly on the ground, decidedly pleased by the firelizards all roosting on her. Didn’t they offset her color splendidly? The bronze and blue and green and brown; yes, yes – it was good that her number one servant had firelizards, it was. She liked them. She was just happy. She scared you? Well, I’m sorry she scared you, but she’s not there anymore…get a pretty mask, yes? To match your dress? It’s such a pretty blue; it should match, I think… The gold crooned low in her throat despite the fact that Hers could not hear her, and then lifted her head lazily to eye all of the flitters perching on her. It was slightly distressing that her Ruthcouch was not present, but of course he mustn’t come or he’d squash the people. So many people. She would do without her couch; at least she had the flitters for company. The gold’s head dropped back to the ground again and she yawned, eyes lidded pleasantly.

[glamourie]

Checkoth twitched both of his tails in the water before swiveling his head around to lay it right on Behruth’s side, in an undeniable show of affection. He wasn’t dumb: he knew better than to tell his clutch brother why he had such reservations about cuddling with Jingth. So he settled for a low croon, though a hint of amusement crept into his eyes. I think they believe we will scare some of the Holders, clutch brother mine; I mean, we are much bigger than they are now. I would like to lay over there with all the dancers though, and watch them. I saw them when I was flying up and the costumes are pretty. Is Yours going to wear a costume? His would. Even though he was sure that R’wignHis would complain, he’d wear a costume; he liked that sort of thing. Checkoth didn’t point that out to Behruth, nor did he give any indication as to why he’d dodged the topic of Jingth. It really wasn’t personal against the gold. She’d always been perfectly polite to him. He was just… not sure how to react to her. He believed that when she was grown she’d lose interest in him and Behruth entirely, wanting only the companionship of bronzes; that was what golds did, wasn’t it? R’wignHis didn’t believe that he was good enough for a gold rider, so why would Checkoth be good enough for a gold? He’d never voiced that thought to R’wignHis, knowing it would upset him, but the fact remained: if R’wignHis wasn’t good enough, and he was the best, then he certainly wasn’t. So he wasn’t going to let himself get emotionally attached to any gold because of it. He’d stick with nice, sweet greens. He liked greens.

Oblivious to Checkoth’s mood, R’wign turned to look at the woman and twitched. Too. Happy. Normally he was good about pretending to be cheerful himself (ridiculously so in fact), but … this was too close to genuine. He was betting she really was that blindly hyperactive and the thought made him want to throttle her in response. No one had a right to be that unfailingly delighted. Not when there was a war on and people were dying all around. Didn’t she realize how many people were dying? How could she be that optimistic, hopeful and oblivious? The thought made him mad. He settled for not responding with anything to her. Masquerade. Like it had a point. He couldn’t really blend in anyway. He was missing an eye, and no matter what he wore, he’d always be missing an eye. It was pointless to pretend that he could disguise himself properly. M’ta’s words jolted him back from that stream of agitated thoughts and he turned to look straight at the other brown rider.

“You wound me,” he said with an overly dramatic tone in hopes of it belying that he actually was slightly upset. Not M’ta’s fault -- he had no way of knowing that when R’wign looked in the mirror, half the time he wanted to claw his own face off. Whirling to Meira, R’wign said sternly, “You see? This is why I want the baby to look like you, not me. She’ll be cursed from the moment of her birth. But nooo. Nooo. You don’t listen to me. ‘I want the baby to look like us both,’ you say, but even M’ta thinks that would be cruel. See, see…” Privately, he was impressed - and grateful - that Meira managed to step in and… and chase away the abominably happy creature that ran the shop. He stepped over closer to her and watched the girl - child, really - leave before his gaze fell on the fire lizard she spoke of. Far be it from blue fire lizards to be grumpy… His mind wandered to Grouch, and as if on cue, the male appeared on his shoulder and gave a scolding chirp. R’wign resisted the urge to smirk at him. Silly creature.

Turning back to Meira, R’wign gestured to the wall of masks before smiling. “Why would we mind? I think M’ta and I both were trying to figure out the best way to hogtie her and put her in a trunk with a lock. No one should ever be that happy.” His gaze flicked over the walls and he started off toward one of the parts of the stall with actual costumes. His eyes were snared on a particularly dark costume -- all black fabric, head to toe, resembling a cloak. How morbid. “Do either of you two have any idea of what you want? I don’t really see a point in bothering with a mask when nothing will disguise who I am properly.” Confirming R’wign’s words, Grouch gave a low chirp, and then nipped the end of his bonded’s ear. Ellie gave him a stern look and the blue fluttered his wings before taking off to explore the store and send back images; just because he was disgruntled (as the steady stream of quiet scolding indicated) didn’t mean that he was incompetent. He’d find something for His just fine, he would.

Ignoring his fire lizards (all of them), R’wign prodded the fabric, and then turned toward the mask display. Frills and laces, bright colors and gemstones, some with feathers, some without. Altogether he thought it very gaudy. Didn’t they have anything that was just a solid color…? He’d buy one, if he could find one that was very plain, simple - nothing extravagant. While R’wign was good at being flamboyant, he didn’t much feel the desire to bother; maybe it was because of what happened with K’lir, or his own nerves, but… no. Just no…

“Do you guys see any, I don’t know -- plain white masks…? Without all the um… feathers…”

[Requiem]

M'ta spared a brief glance for R'wign, a glance that was swiftly broken when the colored thing whirled on him all of a sudden. He leapt back himself, hands coming up in a warding gesture as he bared his teeth in a purely animal gesture. Again, the heedless babbling, and now M'ta was absolutely positively sure of it. She was after something. The urge to duck out and make a break for it was strong. He would bet there were armed men just outside though. Yes. That would explain the excessive cheeriness and the need to keep them in one place. Once they were in position, they'd fall upon the three young people and...

I can actually see what's going on from here, youn know. There isno one waiting outside to jump you. The brown spoke with a great deal of patience, more than he'd given M'ta prior to his illness. Then she's planning on poisoning us. Why would she do that? Jingth. But Jingth is really nice. You are not making sense, Mine. She will lead, Ruth. That's reason enough. If you are worried about poison, just don't eat or drink anything she gives you. Trust a dragon to be far more sensible than his rider. M'ta didn't have much of anything to say to that.

And yes, he was more than just a little grateful when Meira managed to shoo off the freaky colorful thing. M'ta's eyes continued to follow the girl warily. He grunted in agreement with R'wign's response to Meira's apology, adding, "Some of the clothing would do fine, especially if dampened." Yes, he had been seriously considering it, unlike his companion who more likely had just entertained the notion as a passing thought.

"I don't see why I need to wear a mask," the smallest of the three commented petulantly. "Besides being ridiculous, they cut off your peripheral vision." Nevertheless, he let his eyes browse over the pieces, if only because having something so mundane to concentrate on seemed to be steadying his nerves. It really wasn't so bad in here away from the crowd. Now that the creature was gone. Well, really, he'd stand out worse without one than with one if this was supposed to be a masquerade, wouldn't he?

At R'wign's question, M'ta shrugged. "White, yes. Featherless, no." Nodding to the mask he was referring to, he added, "There aren't a ton, though." None of them seemed very appealing to him, either. Finally, he sniffed. "Well, it's not as if I'm going to be the one who has to look at me." So saying, he latched onto the nearest mask and tossed it to one side. "There. That's done." If the wide array of colors bothered him, he made no indication. A bird mask it was, harsh of feature, and perhaps that suited the brownrider just fine. Certainly it wouldn't clash with the plain brown leathers he'd insisted on wearing (mostly because they were about all that fit him at present).

Probably. He doesn't like to stick out, Behruth responded, his tone clearly crestfallen. I don't know why the holders would be afraid of us. We're not scary. Big, yes, but as Behruth never experienced anything resembling fear around bigger dragons, the concept was rather foreign to him. Now, His had a thing about bigger people, but M'taHis was - much as Behruth loved him - somewhat broken. So Behruth did not take that as the natural response to bigger creatures. How does Yours get so many little friends? Behruth questioned out of the blue. He'd been wondering it for awhile now, actually, ever since Jabber almost Betweened and the firelizard had become...less than social.

[Avu]

When did the baby – ? Meira blinked at R’wign, and then shook her head silently. He’d said it before, yes, that he didn’t want the baby to look like him, but – but she didn’t see why not, honestly; the only thing that could be considered actually negative was his missing eye and that…wasn’t hereditary, so…“Well, I doubt that he” – that was only emphasized because R’wign had said ‘she’ – “will ask our opinion about what we want him to look like anyway. So personal preferences don’t really…matter.” One hand had touched her belly absently; she caught herself doing that very often recently, and with Jingth’s Impression it had only become all the more common. People…stared…when they saw gold and weyrlingrider together, and that had become a decidedly protective gesture. It didn’t help that both Stumpy and Jingth liked to try and feel or hear the baby when it moved, either. Regardless of what R’wign thought of his own appearance, though, she did want the baby to look somewhat like his – her – father; it seemed like that was how it should be; that R’wign didn’t want the baby to look like him…stung a little, though she wouldn’t admit it – that just sounded self-centered. Or…baby-centered, rather.

His response to her apology, though, drew a reluctant smile from Meira. She hated the idea of hurting the girl’s feelings; much as Eriena made her want to hide behind R’wign, she hadn’t wanted to make her feel unwanted – she didn’t. As for what she wanted…a mask? The dress she was wearing was not the most elegant (mostly because of the pregnancy; it made her feel decidedly self-conscious in comparison to the other women, dressed in gaudy, bright clothing), but it was a nice shade of blue and she wanted to – to match it, without having an excessively ostentatious mask? “I was kind of just looking for something…simple. Just – blue,” she responded absently, glancing at Grouch warily – the blue’s appearance had surprised her, to be sure, but she hadn’t commented on his presence – mostly because she didn’t really want to receive a lecture from him in the middle of the tent. Her companions’ complaints on the idea of a mask made her crinkle her nose slightly; standing in the middle of the Masquerade Stall made her feel decidedly awkward. Probably the…hundreds of masks. Uncomfortable, all of them staring down…

Meira half-turned, trying to look around at the masks immediately at hand, eyes snagging on the feathered white one that M’ta had pointed out. “There’s a black one over there,” she offered uncertainly. “It’s not white, but it’s – it’s not feathered…oh.” The flutter of wings as the blue firelizard on the counter had departed had not been noted, but his return was – primarily because he was carrying a mask that fit what R’wign had been looking for; white, without feathers. The firelizard emerged from between, dropping it directly in front of R’wign (it was too heavy for him to carry too long, though the position made it quite easy for R’wign to catch it if he desired) before he turned on a wingtip, offering the three of them a decidedly approving chirp. They’d made Eriena go away; good people. She wasn’t His, clearly, by the disdainful way the image of her was offered. And the small one had a mask, too, but the girl didn’t…but Handsome didn’t much like girls; Eriena and her little sister had made him decide that they were all annoying, flighty creatures, and he didn’t offer help.

“Firelizard magnetism” was Meira’s comment as she eyed Handsome curiously for a moment before she shrugged. “Um…were either of you going to get an actual costume…?” She couldn’t really imagine M’ta in a costume – R’wign she could, but he didn’t seem likely to get one at the moment. As for her – she wouldn’t have gotten one if she could; the shop made her uncomfortable and she didn’t want to stay longer than she had to. She plucked the first mask that matched the color on her dress off of the shelf that she spotted; a half-face mask, with dark blue ribbons for tying behind one’s head, a bright clear blue base with silver designs on it. Not too eye-catching, not ugly, and not of exceptional quality; the spirals weren’t perfectly drawn and it was plain in terms of shape, but it matched – it’d do. “I…think I’m getting this one…”

Is it pretty, MeiraLove? Show me, please?
You’ll see it when I come out…
Just send me an image please? And LoveMine…you’re still not happy in that store. Why not? Do you want me to come?
You couldn’t fit.
Not /in/. Just – to the entrance.
Mm…no, no. It’s okay.

[glamourie]

M’ta was thinking of wearing a costume? Really? M’ta? He never wore costumes. Did he? R’wign crinkled his nose, squinting at the smaller boy in thought. He could distinctly remember him running around in brightly colored outfits for a period of time (R’wign, being who he was, was convinced that M’ta must have been gay to wear such clothes) but that period of time was brief. Of late he just seemed normal. Especially in comparison to him (R’wign knew very well that ‘normal’ wasn’t a word often applied to him). M’ta did specify ‘dampened’ but… R’wign frankly had a great deal of trouble imagining the other boy in one of the flamboyantly bright and layered costumes featured in the store. Everything seemed to have feathers, or ruffles, or something else to make it less appealing. It really was obnoxious. Even by R’wign’s standards, everything in there was… excessive. Maybe the idea of parenthood was finally setting in and diminishing his sense of humor? Hmm, he wasn’t sure he liked that idea at all; R’wign wasn’t R’wign if he wasn’t being ornery beyond words. He turned back to the masks on the wall and fixed them with a dull stare. So bright and colorful. He tried to picture M’ta in one of them in the back of his mind and the visual was almost funny enough to make him laugh. Almost. The only thing keeping him from doing so was the knowledge that his friend probably would resent being the victim of his over-active imagination.

His thoughts were confirmed by M’ta’s complaint, and he spun around before opening his mouth to comment that he’d look so much better with a mask. He was stopped by the answer Meira offered, and then the collective pointing out of masks. The white feathered one earned a decidedly unhappy look, and R’wign glanced at Meira for confirmation. Black was a little better, but the costume idea budding in his mind didn’t really fit with such dark shades. He had the overwhelming desire to run around in pastels for his costume, mostly because no one would recognize that. R’wign and his love for dark colors would never be caught dead in powder blue and pink. Fortunately enough, he was spared from that little tantrum by the sight of a blue fire lizard - the one that the abundantly happy female had mentioned, no doubt - flying over with a mask that fit his specifications nicely. R’wign caught the mask and turned toward the fire lizard, though he did shoot Meira an amused look.

“What can I say? I like fire lizards, and apparently most of them are at least tolerant of me,” he said with a shrug, before turning back to the blue. “Thank you.” Ellie fluted pleasantly to Handsome in her own show of approval, before leaning down to look at the mask. R’wign held it up to her and she nudged at it with her nose, as if testing quality, before fluttering her wings. The brown rider turned back to the foreign blue fire lizard and smiled at him. “I’m afraid I don’t have any tasty treats to give you, but if you come perch over here, I’ll rub your head knob. I’m getting pretty good at that.” As if in agreement, Ellie gave another quiet peep, though the fire lizard was busy trying to examine the mask. She’d never seen anything like that before, why did he have something so silly, what was its purpose? If Hers was wearing one, she rather wanted one as well, would he give one to her…? Did they make them in her size? Ellie looked up at R’wign, and he held the mask up to his face. The gold gave an approving chirp and ruffled her wings. She liked it, she did. It was pretty.

R’wign spun around to look at Meira, holding the mask against the left side of his face. His head cocked to the side curiously. “I like that. Now we just have to find one that looks obnoxiously bright, for M’ta,” he said pleasantly, then glanced at the flit again. “Any ideas, little genius?”

Mine remembers Yours wearing bright colors, Checkoth offered as he stood up and curled himself around Behruth affectionately. Yet he doesn’t like to stick out? That doesn’t make much sense. Maybe mine is remembering wrong? R’wignmine says the Holders are wherryheads that fear what they don’t understand. His tails switched simultaneously, and then he gave a slight snort. I don’t know how he gets so many of the little flying cousins. He doesn’t either, but they like him. Even the ones that aren’t Ours like him. If you want, maybe we can give you and Yours one of the Elliegold’s eggs. I don’t think she’d mind… at least, not if we asked her very nicely…

[Requiem]

"Cursed or blessed," M'ta muttered drolly, as an aside that was stated merely because he felt like airing it. Jabari was currently sulking. Again. As always. To say that the brownrider was just a bit put off by the first of his bondeds - which earned Jabari a special place - was mild. Sure, the firelizard had clung for a time, but now he only returned every few days to be fed, the creature's listlessness worrying and irritating M'ta by turns. Silly, really, but it hurt sometimes, this that could be nothing but a rejection. Well, fine then. Let the thing do what it pleased. He didn't care. Why should he? Rubbing lightly at the neck that had so often worn the brown's frame, even when the flit grew quite too large to rest there easily, he watched the blue through half-lidded eyes.

P.M.S. skittered up M'ta's back and peered curiously at the new flying friend, weighing his options. Was it close enough? Oh, he thought so, he did, and while it was fun to be up high, the little shiny wasn't nearly so high as P.M.S. would have liked. Of a sudden the salamandyr made a mad dash up the side of M'ta's face, the brownrider flinching a bit in surprise as the blue vaulted through the air toward his larger cousin and landed squarely on the firelizard's back with a delighted cry that sounded suspiciously like a squeal. Fly!

Abandoned for a firelizard. Typical. M'ta watched to be sure the salamandyr didn't cause the poor, hapless creature to crash into a wall or something, turning aside when all seemed to be well. At least the mandyr was lavishing his attentions on his new ride. Crazy thing. "They like you. The only ones who like me are the ones completely out of their heads." Behruth's amusement settled around him.

The teenager followed her gaze to the masks, glancing at the one she'd selected, then tsking softly to himself. Decent enough, but she was a goldrider. Savitri had enough arrogance self-confidence that she could walk around in a paper sack, but Meira needed to learn to accept her responsibilities, such as they were. Even if she was uncomfortable. Especially because she was uncomfortable. And the best way to be something you weren't? Pretend you were until it became true. M'ta should know; he'd mastered that particular art. It was good she wasn't all the things he hated, and because she wasn't she was needed. Intelligence. Compassion. These would benefit the weyr, but not if she didn't have the confidence to speak up and do something. Starting small was the best way to go. None of this hiding. And if that meant he had to be more forward himself to encourage her, then so be it.

"Yes. Something, though this foppery ought to be dumped over the falls." Spying what he was looking for, he drifted toward the wall of masks, plucking one of the ones that had been half-hidden behind a ton of insultingly glaring clownish things that no one would be caught dead in. The base color was the same as the one she held, but there were subtle undertones, swirls of darker and lighter hues that, just barely offset from the base, were almost indistinguishable. It gave the mask a curious life. Flecks of gold made it glisten, though, unless you stood close, you wouldn't know why. Limned in entertwined silver and black...subtle and delicate.

He drifted back towards Meira, removing the mask she held and setting it to one side. "It's good for a healer, yes." Though it was probably humorous that M'ta had to stand on his tiptoes to do so, he drew the mask he'd chosen over her face, tying the ribbons deftly before settling the hair back around her shoulders with a light hand. "But you're not just a healer. Trust me." The brownrider guided her toward the mirror so she could see with a hand at the small of her back. Had he truly thought about it, he probably wouldn't have been so forward, but he simply had a purpose in mind, and M'ta was nothing if not stubborn. "See?"

Clearly in a much better mood, he shot a mock glare R'wign's direction. "Do your worst, roomie. I'm not afraid of you." Tempted to stick out his tongue, he refrained.

He would say he doesn't want me to, but he doesn't have to know. We'd all be happier with another friend, Behruth responded cheerily, nuzzling up against Checkoth in his gratitude. But Mine doesn't...oh. He says - I don't really understand it, but maybe you will - that he did that so people would know him and leave him alone. But it didn't really work so he stopped. Stretching, Behruth gazed longingly again toward the Gather. People can be far too silly.

[Avu]

Tolerant of him. Right. Meira glanced sideways at R’wign, one eyebrow rising slightly. She refrained from commenting, however – primarily because the brownrider’s attention had turned to the blue firelizard already, and Handsome, who had circled back to hover in front of the three of them, eyeing them all cautiously, turned his head to look squarely at R’wign. Ellie’s croon made his gaze flick down to the queen, and then back to Hers. He wasn’t interested in other firelizards, clearly. That one was nice enough, but he just didn’t care about them, period. Nevertheless, the offer for a head knob rub drew a look that was almost disdainful, and Handsome gave a chirp that was definitely a negative, flipping one wing to turn and fly back to his counter until the humanlings had further need of him when – flying Salamandyr! Handsome had already decided he didn’t like Salamandyrs. He now decided he hated Salamandyrs. The blue flared both wings out wide, and then rolled over midair, twisting before he shot back to his counter, hissing as he closed his wings resolutely. Bad Salamandyr; he wouldn’t be getting a ride, no no. Whether or not he had clung, Handsome didn’t care. He wasn’t moving again until it was out.

Biting back a giggle despite herself, Meira followed the blue firelizard’s gyrations for a moment before M’ta’s comment made her glance back at him, and she smiled, amused. She still didn’t like the masks all looking down, but…between the firelizards, Salamandyrs, and brownriders, it wasn’t too bad anymore. “Er – PMS – ” She’d never quite gotten over how…inelegantly…the name had been shortened, but ‘Pretty Mandyr Shiny’ was too much of a mouthful; much easier (if more awkward) to say PMS – “is he okay? Do Salamandyrs get nauseous…?” Well. She knew they could throw up; Piden’s Salamandyr did and he’d been in her Wherling class – the momentary feeling of strangulation had come to be expected, but it was still uncomfortable and Meira swallowed it – but she didn’t think it was because of nausea.

Costume for M’ta. Hmm. Such an odd thought, the brownrider in a costume like one of these. None of them seemed very…subtle. The shirts (she thought they were for men, and were labeled ‘3 marks’) had an obscene amount of frills on them, and the dresses looked like they’d been designed for people like Eriena – and the costumes. Well, they were varied enough, from a feather-coated one (to match that white mask?) to dresses that didn’t look too obnoxious and actually represented something, but…still. “Um…” Her gaze rose to the next level, where costumes peeked out from behind those that were fully exposed. Most of these would have embarrassed her incredibly to wear, but…the Masquerade Stall had probably had the most business out of any of them thus far, and the number of people walking around in costumes and outfits that looked frankly ridiculous was large. Most of them had a kind of elegance, something that most of these costumes distinctly lacked, but…they had gotten them from here, hadn’t they…? Where were the good costumes hi –

“What?” The word was more startled than a protest at the mask being removed from her hands, and Meira dropped her gaze to M’ta, barely resisting the instinct to pull her head back as the mask of the brownrider’s choice settled over her face. It took only a split second for her to realize what the brownrider was doing, and she held still for it obediently; once the mask had been tied, she raised her hand to touch the new one curiously; she hadn’t gotten to see it. Allowing him to guide her back to the mirror framed among the masks, Meira glanced into the mirror. It was pretty, but…it had to cost a lot. And she’d wanted to hoard the few marks she had in order to buy toys for the baby. Other things, necessities, they mostly had, or could borrow from the crèche, but toys were…more personal. But if she bought the mask – how much money would that leave for the baby’s toys? “It’s – it’s gorgeous – how much is it…?”

The challenge uttered to R’wign made her glance over at the other brownrider, and Meira half-smiled, dropping her hands from the mask. It was pretty, and she did want it; just because she didn’t put hours into how she looked didn’t mean the weyrlingrider didn’t care. “Better than the other one…?” she asked – and was more or less interrupted by Handsome, the firelizard giving a very peeved chirrup as he eyed M’ta critically. It was that boy’s little squirmy worm that had decided to ride on him, it was. Obnoxious colors were bad, yes? Oh, oh, wait and see, wait and see, he’d pay for the little wormy, he would. Handsome’s attention turned back to R’wign and the blue flipped both wings, chirruping (very, very pleasantly) at him, and flashing him an image of a horribly obnoxious mask. Neon colors, it was; a bright acidic green base laced with hot pink and electric yellow, and rimmed with feathers dyed to match the colors painted onto it; stark white only heightened the blinding effect by adding accents to the eyes and nose of the full-face mask. The image was also offered to both M’ta and Meira – the former very maliciously, and the latter more out of an ill grace than anything else.

/That/ is your mask? That neon thing? Jingth’s startled dismay was obvious.
No! No, it’s not – it’s – it might be M’ta’s, I think.
…oh. I see. And why does Behruth’s want to wear a mask that looks like it can blind the entire Weyr at a glance?
As far as I know, he doesn’t…?

[glamourie]

R’wign didn’t view himself as cursed or blessed, actually, and he totally ignored the look Meira offered in his direction. His gaze was busily focused on the blue firelizard who, comically enough, seemed so offended by the prospect of having his headknob rubbed. How odd. Most of them loved that. R’wign shrugged, then looked the mask over before rubbing his nose. His mind was quickly bombarded by images of pale cloth; Grouch was not about to be one-upped by someone else’s firelizard. The healer brought his hand up and rubbed his temple as his gaze swiveled around to the area where Grouch flew off. Layers upon layers of almost-shiny pastels, definitely matching the mask in his hands, cut into loose fitting garments… he tilted his head to the side. A fool’s outfit, it was – a clown. His bemused expression melted into one of utter amusement, but he was stopped from leaving as M’ta turned toward Meira. Cocking his head, he watched the other brownrider’s movements in interest. Image. His mind was bombarded with an image, and R’wign turned back to Handsome before mouthing ‘Show me’ to the firelizard.

R’wign didn’t give him a chance to do so, though, as M’ta spoke… and the words went without reply, mainly because R’wign chose that moment to vacate. He bobbed his head before turning and… actually scurrying away, though it was unlikely that either of the pair would notice his sudden departure. He was careful and quiet about it, but nonetheless hurriedly reunited himself with his errant firelizard, who was sitting on one of the hangars triumphantly – look at how successful he was, he was better than that other blue, he was the best blue ever –

“Thank you, Grouch,” R’wign said softly, his gaze turning to the fabrics… the firelizard certainly liked them. They weren’t anything he was terribly fond of (he liked dark colors, he did) but they were nice enough. His mind was busily sorting out other things. Like the fact that the entire mask-thing struck him as way too intimate to be standing around watching. Best to give Meira and M’ta some privacy, he thought. He didn’t want to make either of them feel awkward by lurking around staring at masks while they… flirted in their weird, backwards way that the two of them seemed to go about it (really, he was convinced M’ta was just damaged in some ways). “You’re that fond of it then?” Affirmative chirp; the blue dove over to land opposite Ellie on his shoulder and fluttered his wings anxiously. “Well, I don’t see what harm comes in asking prices… Gotta find that insanely happy creature again, though I wish there was someone else… hmm…”

And he needed to pick out a costume with which to torture M’ta. Yes, he’d heard the challenge, but M’ta did not realize what R’wign’s worst was. And if he thought he did… well, he was about to find out why assuming was a very bad thing, indeed.

Spinning, R’wign moved away from the pale costume, while mentally prodding Ellie. The gold gave a quiet flute and disappeared between to go find that colorful, happy person, while R’wign moved over to the back wall. Settled against it was an outfit that could only be described as ‘soft.’ The pants were a pale pink with white ruffles down the outsides, while the shirt was reversed: white with pink ruffles down the front. Little pink gemstones circled the wrists and ankles of the outfit, and it came with a large hat that had a feather dyed pink. Said feather was large enough to fold over on itself, doubtlessly brushing over the wearer’s face. There was a long cape of white silk, with pink embroidery forming elegant swirls, coming from top to bottom, and the costume came with a pair of pink-dyed leather boots with at least a two inch heel. The smirk on R’wign’s face said it all. “Do your worst,” he said – well, M’ta was about to get a chance to eat those words. Worst indeed.

But there was also that mask that Handsome showed him, hmm. He shifted his weight, hoping silently that the blue firelizard would come and take him to where it was. If that mask came with a nicely obnoxious costume, it would trump the pink monstrosity… He poked Grouch in the stomach, and then turned back to see if Handsome was following. He was actually leaning toward the pale one, though…

Mine can give him an egg, Checkoth explained patiently, as his mind was hit by the neon image. UGLY! Ugly, R’wignmine! Do not buy that one. That’s just too bright. It looks like Roxie and Grouch flew into one another and formed a pretzel! But I like the pale one. Is it for Behruth’s? – Behruth, would Yours like the pale one? I can get one of the little cousins to show you. R’wignmine says Yours just has poor fashion taste, by the way. I asked him to explain and that was his response… So I guess it doesn’t make any more sense to him than it does to either of us but that’s okay because ShortyYours is nice. I like him.

[Requiem]

Oh, oh, oh, no fair! Why did his ride want to be rid of him so? Not a very nice flyer, not at all like the browns. (Although the small flyer of his mindpet's wasn't very friendly as of late. Or around much, for that matter.) P.M.S. skittered across the floor with a squeal of protest, losing traction and tumbling into the displace case. He was on his feet in an instant, though, determined to make friends with the evil little beast. It was just a misunderstanding, right? Pretty Mandyr Shiny was a good friend to have! Yup yup.

M'ta glanced at the mandyr. "I think he'll live," the boy commented drolly, even as the blue skittered up the leg of a table to attempt to make friendly.

Seemed he'd startled her. The brownrider might have been mildly hurt by her reaction had it not seemed just like a startlement. Meira certainly didn't seem at all nervous afterwards, and M'ta was paranoid enough himself not to take offense at someone becoming uneasy at being touched unexpectedly. It did make him a bit self-conscious, though, and he drifted to one side under the pretense of studying his choice from a better angle. "Better," he responded firmly. "I can cover the difference, though, if money's a problem." It couldn't be that much more expensive, could it?

Wait, what the...? Glancing at the firelizard who had a very very overeager P.M.S. squirming up behind him, M'ta wrinkled his nose. "Thank you. Giving R'wign ideas. It's not my fault the little blighter likes to fly. You think I can control P.M.S.?" How ludicrous. Speaking of R'wign...where had the harper...? Oh. Looking for a suitable costume, no doubt. Good luck with that one; this place wasn't likely to yield anything remotely useable.

"Seems the firelizard either hates me already, or has a really odd sense of how to show approval. I'd wear that before he tries to land you with something like the neon monstrosity." P.M.S. had by now crept ninja-style up behind the firelizard, and pounced him with a plethora of happy natherings that had no equivalent in English. He crooned and rubbed against the creature. What if he could get the grumpy gus to sing? Now wouldn't that be fun?!

I don't know. He usually wears dark, Behruth commented, curious now. As was M'ta. R'wign was on the prowl for something for him? That was unlikely to be good. M'ta trusted the healer with many things, but preserving his dignity certainly wasn't one of them. We have the best humans, Behruth agreed wholeheartedly. Best of all of them they were. Yes, yes. Maybe...if we went in costume...they wouldn't know we were dragons? A crazy notion that he meant mostly in jest. Mostly. They could just be really, really big humans. It wasn't that much of a stretch...

M'ta was chuckling aloud in the shop, trying to banish the image of his brown decked out in an overlarge ruffled shirt and floppy hat.

[Avu]

Handsome spat defiantly at PMS. Hopefully the little blue annoyance had landed hard. But…however hard PMS had landed, apparently it was not hard enough. What was he doing?! The blue firelizard flapped both wings, spitting again before he pulled his wings back against his body, flipping his tail in agitation. Whatever happened, he wasn’t giving the little brat a ride. Never never never; he had more dignity than that, thank you very much! His head cocked, and he followed PMS’s progress for a moment before R’wign stole the firelizard’s attention, and Handsome eyed the brownrider momentarily. Show him. He turned to look for PMS – because it wouldn’t do to fly and have the little brat jump on him, no – but – but where’d he gone? Confused, stymied for the moment, Handsome chirped in distressed agitation, but his presence for the moment did not seem necessary. The other blue flit had gone off with the one who wanted the neon mask, so he’d wait and spot that annoying little fluttery fake thing beforehand just so it didn’t…surprise him again.

And yet, somehow PMS still managed to elicit a loud squawk of protest as the Salamandyr pounced. Handsome writhed, his entire body thrashing, and then he threw out one wing, intending to knock PMS off of his back, before jumping into the air and vanishing between after spitting at the Salamandyr, and then at M’ta for his words, again. Hmph. He reappeared in front of R’wign, and swept in to land on one of the nearby racks, ruffling his wings indignantly and then hissing low in his throat back in PMS’s direction. Little worm! But Handsome turned his attention back to R’wign, chirruping at the brownrider before he tilted his head to examine the pink outfit. Not the neon one? Well, they’d see. Pink was very feminine; it’d do, he supposed. But…but the neon one was much more eye-catching, see? The blue bobbed his head, and then jabbed one wing in the direction of the neon outfit in question before chattering emphatically. This way, this way~

It wouldn’t take much looking to find the neon outfit in question, either; it was far too bright to go unnoticed. It was, however, from R’wign’s position, hidden behind a rack. As soon as he stepped around said rack, it’d almost literally hit him in the face. The mask had been matched by an outfit, except in a kind of photo negative – black where there was white; dark where once was extremely hot colors. However, neon touches had been added in a blinding electric blue that wound around the entire thing in jagged stripes. Neon green that matched the mask’s shade exactly was present in ribbons around the ankles and wrists of the outfit, tightening the fabric at those points to look positively ridiculous; small bells that had been painted hot pink were attached to the electric blue ribbons, clashing fantastically and jingling loudly for such small things at every movement. Feathers that resembled the down of darters lined the neck, dyed in a chaotic mix of all of the neon colors imaginable. The mask dangled just above, and below the costume was a pair of shoes. The clash of acid green, electric blue, neon yellow, and hot pink were all twisted together – and they were wedge heels, the entire contraption made of a hard, inflexible material. A ribbon of white was threaded through each side, and hot pink bells jingled there, too.

Just lovely…and completely horrific, guaranteed to blind.

And…poor PMS. Meira half-turned to watch the Salamandyr in a mixture of amusement and dismay. The firelizard didn’t look at all happy with him, and she couldn’t really blame him. Grumpy creature, that firelizard was, wasn’t he…? Still, the two blues only held her attention for a moment before she turned back to examine the mask again. It was much prettier than the other one, and she did like it a lot, but…how many marks did she have, anyway? The mask couldn’t be more than three marks or so, and toys couldn’t be that expensive either. And out of…how many, thirteen? – that ought to be enough…M’ta’s offer, however, made her glance at the brownrider before she shook her head firmly, though she smiled gratefully. “I’m not going to make you pay for me. I’ll pay for it – um. Do we have to find that shopkeeper – Eriena – now…?” Her nose crinkled slightly at the thought, and Meira glanced around, raising her chin to look over the rows of masks and costumes to look for R’wign.

“I don’t think it’s you that he doesn’t like,” she added, gaze dropping towards PMS in a mixture of pity and amusement. “Where’d he go to…?” ‘He’ being Handsome, but on that note, she couldn’t see R’wign, either. Most likely because the racks filled with masks were quite high and seeing around them was difficult, given how closely they were arranged – but regardless of why…“Can you see what R’wign’s doing…? I don’t want to get Eriena until – until everything’s ready; I don’t want…” To talk to her. Because quite honestly, she was unnerving. Hmm…

I can see the /mask/ that the flit was talking about, Jingth offered helpfully, having rolled onto her stomach and crawled over to peer inside the dimly-lit shop. Her chin rested on the step, her body still sprawled with a total lack of dignity. MineLove…that costume is horribly neon. Behruth’s isn’t actually going to /wear/ it? The hatchling’s head rubbed against the step to peer at M’ta for a moment before she huffed in what was clearly a demonstration of amusement. Would you like to see…? The words were followed by an image, and Meira blinked in surprise before she glanced at M’ta, and then back at Jingth, before the brownrider’s chuckling drew her attention away from the idea of someone actually wearing the neon costume, and her head tilted curiously. “Something amusing?”

Meanwhile, a few rows down, Eriena bounced to R’wign’s side, the shopkeeper wrapping both hands around Handsome and plucking him neatly off of the rack on which he was perched. Ignoring the blue’s squawk of surprise, followed by vehement hissing and spitting and squirming, she smiled brightly at the brownrider. “Are you buying? What do you need? Or do you need help finding anything? Handsome usually knows where everything is but if he’s just being grouchy and unhelpful, I’m not surprised, stop your squirming and don’t nip – he’s like that.” She sighed petulantly, the pause punctuated by a decidedly venomous hiss from Handsome, and then released the blue, who flew immediately back to the rack and flapped his wings, looking extremely affronted. “So…?”

[glamourie]

Poor firelizard. R’wign frowned at Handsome and held his arm out, as though to beckon the small blue forward. He looked so disgruntled. The arm quickly fell back to his side as the blue seemed to focus on the pink monstrosity, and R’wign wondered whether or not the firelizard would relax now that he was away from M’ta’s salamandyr. One could only hope. He took the wing point as indication of which way to go and spun on his heel, heading that way. It didn’t take him long to spot what the blue was trying to point out and he quirked an eyebrow at the blindingly bright combination of fabrics that could only be proof of the stall owner’s diseased mind. The first thought he had was of M’ta just over a Turn ago, when all he wore was obnoxiously bright colors that made R’wign long to dunk him in the river and just… hold him there until he cried ‘Uncle’ and promised never to wear anything so hideous again. Thing was, at the time, he and M’ta barely knew each other and he was pretty sure that the then-candidate would have wanted to stab him in the arm for such audacity. Did he really want to give him the bright one…? It might actually be appealing to M’ta. Hmm. He weighed his options silently.

At least, he was silent at first. Handsome’s squawk was echoed by Ellie’s quiet peep, as the gold swirled around to land on her mindmate’s shoulder, and R’wign gestured to Eriena vaguely.

“Please don’t do that. They only make that sound when they’re upset. You shouldn’t grab him. If he wants to be on you, he’ll land on you himself,” he said. R’wign: The Firelizard Whisperer. “And he’s been extremely helpful. You really shouldn’t underestimate him. But – I was curious about prices. Specifically, the price of this outfit –“ He nodded to the bright, horrendous thing, “and the clown outfit a row back. And how much it would cost to do some alterations – hemming, that sort of thing. Because the person this particular outfit is for is on the short side.” R’wign gestured to the bright outfit, and then held out the white mask that he’d been given by Handsome earlier. “And I need to know how much this is as well. If I’m going to dress up, may as well go all out.”

Hopefully neither outfit was too expensive. Truthfully, R’wign wasn’t sure he could afford either of them. He needed to save his marks for the baby. While it was technically true that Ka’rys had offered to loan him marks to help buy baby supplies, R’wign was cocky. Perhaps too cocky for his own good, at times. He felt weird accepting payment from anyone else, and even more weird letting people buy him things. He wasn’t a mooch. And there was no reason that he saw that Meira should have to pay for much of anything, considering (at least for the moment) that his income of marks surpassed hers by quite a bit. Though that would change, for now, he could do his part. It was pretty much the only thing he could do and feel remotely useful, since she was technically doing all the work…

Flipping his tails, Checkoth leaned over to nose Behruth before spreading and flapping his wings. We do. You know, we should make Ours give us costumes, he proclaimed, before actually vaulting himself into the air. I’m going to ask R’wignmine to help me get bows or ribbons, something like that. I don’t like waiting here, and I don’t see why I can’t be allowed if the little Jingth-queen is. It sounded incredibly unfair to him. Never mind that he was larger right now – she’d be bigger later on, and he deserved the right to stay with His, too! He beat his wings to soar over the jungle, before coming to land right on the outskirts of where the Gather tents were set up, with careful consideration to avoid landing on the people wandering about. He settled down and crooned loudly before settling down and looking about.

Problem with being full grown: He couldn’t fit into the tight pathways. Flipping his tails agitatedly, he inquired, Do you think I should ask for a lighter shade of brown?

Was he aware of Checkoth’s plotting? Answer: Yes. But R’wign would deal with his mildly-pouting dragon later on. First, he had to come up with an evil costume for M’ta… although, in afterthought, he did ask, “Do you have any masks that would fit a dragon, by chance? My brown wants one very badly… I’m thinking tan or white would match his coloring well…”

[Requiem]

While M'ta was regaining his composure (and being plotted against in relative secret) P.M.S. returned to His, clearly crestfallen. That sobered the young man up quicker, and he glanced down at the salamandyr burrowing down his shirt front in a rare show of dejectedness. Poor thing. Catching him before he could entirely disappear, M'ta turned his hand over, the salamandyr curling around his wrist and clinging. "Don't worry, little one," the dragonrider whispered, affection clear in his tone. "That firelizard is just a grouch. You don't really want him, anyway. Mm?" P.M.S. whined and ducked his head against M'ta's wrist, the young man setting to stroking his back lightly with a finger.

Glancing up at Meira, M'ta questioned, "What was that?" Then his mind supplied it and his lips quirked up into a mild half-smile. "Oh, Behruth's just plotting to disguise himself as a human," M'ta stated flatly, as if it was the most normal thing in all the world to discuss. There was a slight distance behind his eyes for a moment, making it clear that his attention had shifted back to Ruth for the moment, and then he snorted outright. "Now he's got Check wanting to do it, too. Those two..." M'ta shook his head, the unlikely smile still prominent.

He said nothing to Meira's comment about paying. M'ta didn't find arguing to generally be a productive use of his time, and it would be easy enough to slip Eriena...evil dagger-hiding skirts and all...the marks if he so chose. M'ta didn't tend to be subtle, but that was more a matter of choice than a question of capability.

"He can protect us from her," M'ta supplied, an amused twinkle behind his eyes. Meira wasn't particularly hard to read, either. Not that he wasn't all too willing to simply let R'wign deal with the bundle of energy that put his nerves on edge. He still half-expected her to call in a few nasties...his paranoia speaking, but he couldn't do much to quell it, so what was the point in trying?

His gaze swung toward Jingth. "And I heard that," he added, loudly enough to include the gold hatchling in the conversation. "What's the big secret?"

Behruth followed close behind Checkoth, giving the two tails just enough room that he wouldn't slam into the back of his clutchbrother if the larger dragon suddenly slowed. Flicking a wing neatly to reduce speed, he landed in an open area not far from Check and folded his wings neatly, trying his best to look as if he should be here. Lighter brown for the ribbons, or the mask? Behruth questioned, crooning to the passersby that shied around him.