Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Aug 20, 2009 13:56:16 GMT -5
“He shouldn’t be on the racks,” Eriena replied, though she interlaced her fingers behind her back in a silent agreement not to grab Handsome again. “I don’t want him to knock the masks off.” He had, once. And when a customer was here, too. Hmph. Handsome eyed her peevishly, flickering her an image of a Salamandyr (very emphatically) but Eriena ignored it, as she had previously. The blue firelizard flapped both wings, curled his tail to stabilize himself around the top of the rack, and then chirped at R’wign. Good flitpetmanthing. Very good. If only he could disown His and just stick around with him, hmph. He had other flits, which was a bad thing, because they were probably annoying, but on the upside maybe it meant he wouldn’t always be bothered by humanthings. Yes, yes. Good plan. Now, how to go about changing Bonds…the flitter flipped his wings disdainfully, and huffed quietly to himself. Now why couldn’t he have Hatched right now instead of three Turns ago? Eyeing Eriena thoughtfully, the blue launched himself from the rack again (gracefully; no knocking masks off, see? Stupid; he hadn’t done it!) to perch on top of R’wign’s head. See how it was done? Pfft.
His antics earned a petulant frown from Eriena, but the girl was in shopkeeper mode. She glanced at the neon costume, and then reached up to readjust a feather that was slightly askew. “The mask that goes with it is one and a half marks, and the costume’s three, but that includes the shoes,” she replied, indicating said shoes with one finger. “Since they wouldn’t go with anything else…I thought it ought to be more, isn’t it pretty…? But Mum said that it was better to price it really low.” She shrugged one shoulder. “The clown costume is three marks, too, and that mask’s one. Alterations are a fourth-mark; they usually don’t take much time anyway and I think that makes…eight and three fourth marks. Is that right? I don’t think I’m very good at math…” Her nose twitched to one side, and she sighed. “Of course, you could always haggle,” she added helpfully. “Nobody has yet but nobody else bought so much. Are you buying it all? And where’re your friends, are they ready, too…go find them, Handsome…but no, we don’t have any dragon masks, didn’t think anyone’d want them…we could probably make one for you. It’d take awhile, though…”
The only response she received was a disdainful hiss. Not going back there, nope. Annoying little blue Salamandyr freak thing. Noooot going within a dragonlength of that thing if he could help it!
Said annoying little blue Salamandyr freak thing was receiving a sympathetic glance a short distance away, though that changed rapidly into one of absolute bewilderment. Disguise himself – like a human? Dragon-sized clothes – or masks? What? “What?” she verbalized, crinkling her nose in confusion. She absolutely adored Checkoth and Behruth, but…how they got ideas like this one was utterly beyond her. “Um. Well…good luck to them…?” They’d definitely need it, anyway. At least it was them and not some other dragon who’d probably trample people by mistake. Tempting though it was to ask how exactly Ruth and Check proposed to disguise themselves as humans, Meira refrained, flicking a slight glance towards Jingth to gauge the hatchling’s reaction; the idea of her two ‘claimed’ browns (never mind that Checkoth didn’t seem too eager about being claimed) disguising themselves as humans surely had to have some effect on her? The only response she caught was a wave of silent amusement, though; Jingth’s attention was focused on the costume and on Checkoth’s.
Meira couldn’t help the half-chuckle that escaped her at M’ta’s comment; Eriena didn’t scare her so much as make her feel…very small. Her slight amusement was interrupted by Jingth’s interjecting, The one who scares you? That’s the one? She’s already there, LoveMine. I can see Checkoth’s, too, and the flit that doesn’t like the little blue Salamandyr. The hatchling squirmed awkwardly forward another few inches, and then tilted her head to look up at M’ta. The brownweyrling’s question made her eyes whirl very rapidly, and then the gold crooned pleasantly at him. Meira glanced at the gold again before she clicked her tongue slightly. “The ‘secret’ is that she can see the – that neon mask that the firelizard showed us? – she can…see it…and the costume…and the shoes…” Her gaze flickered in the direction of said costume, R’wign, Eriena, and Handsome, and she bit her lip, amused. “It’s got bright pink bells…?” The shoes have heels, Jingth added helpfully. “And…high heels…”
Ignoring Jingth’s croon of amusement, she nodded in the direction of costume and company. “Eriena’s already over there, she says,” she added. “Should we go…?”
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Post by glamourie on Aug 22, 2009 1:17:42 GMT -5
He was oblivious to Jingth’s presence – perhaps fortunately. Not that a gold dragon was easy to overlook, but R’wign was turned the other direction eyeing the hideous costume that he intended to purchase for M’ta. The shopkeeper’s complaint about the firelizard on the racks made him smile slightly; typically, flitters went wherever they wanted, pretty much regardless of who, what, when and how. Grabbing him wasn’t the answer though. Asking politely was, usually. In R’wign’s experience, flitters responded very well to polite inquiries, for the most part… except Savitri’s obnoxious green, who was most efficiently barred from the infirmary by Ellie, thank Faranth. She was just as prone to nagging as her mindmate, and Pern wasn’t big enough for two overbearing females like that. Savitri really was enough. Handsome reminded R’wign strongly of Grouch – same grumpy disposition, same intolerance for being held… R’wign wondered, actually, whether or not he secretly loved being snuggled as Grouch did (though the blue protested it, R’wign could feel the delight that radiated off of him at the affection and was often amused by that). He was stolen from his thoughts by a weight settling on his head and he angled his eye upward to try and see Handsome better, before lifting his wrist in offering.
“Mind perching on my wrist instead of my head? I can’t see you from up there, you’re in my blindspot,” he said; he always talked to firelizards as if they were miniature people. While it earned him some unusual looks, at least most firelizards liked him. Though, at times, R’wign had to admit he found that fact frustrating. Eight firelizards really was a lot for just one person. Sometimes he wondered if anyone in history had ever managed to Impress more than he did. Part of him doubted that very seriously. To Eriena, R’wign turned, and then offered her as dazzling a smile as he could muster up – ear-to-ear, head cocked to the side just slightly, and for all appearances it looked genuine. “You should try just asking him nicely. I’m sure our little friend wouldn’t mind if you were polite. Would you?”
Dropping the topic, R’wign indicated the costume. “Handsome needn’t go find my friends. If they want anything, I’m sure that the dragons will let us know. Checkoth is completely enraptured of Meira.” He eyed the outfit, before frowning slightly. “Eight and three-fourth marks… that’s… hnn... that’s a little more than I was really able to afford. Guess I’ll just have to buy a mask and go naked to the Dancing Square. I’m not sure how everyone will respond to that, though.” He cast a sideways glance at Eriena; apparently his method of haggling involved flirting. “What do you think? Do you think the general public would mind terribly? Then I’ll just buy this bright one for my friend. I’d buy something for Meira, but I don’t think she’s much up to costumes, what with us having a baby due soon – they’re pretty expensive, you understand.” His method of haggling also, apparently, involved manipulation attempts. Trying to guilt her into lowering the prices, who, R’wign?
The brush of warmth through his mind told him of Checkoth’s delight, and R’wign tacked on absently, “I doubt I can afford any kind of dragon mask, but my brown is convinced he’d be allowed to come to the Gather if he wore one. Would you like to meet him? Checkoth, say hello.” The out loud request was for Eriena’s benefit; the brown could have easily heard him without words.
Hello, PrettyClothMaker. R’wignmine doesn’t believe we can afford a pretty mask for me, but I would like one, in a shade of brown lighter than me, and my clutchbrother Behruth needs one too, and so does the Jingth-queen. You can see her if you look at the doorway. Maybe the three of us can work to make the marks to get one? I’d really like one!
Trust Check to know just what to say. He ruffled his wings and peered over the visible part of the Gather; from his position all he could make out was Jingth’s butt sticking out of the door. He swiveled his head around to look at Behruth before crooning adoringly. Light brown for the mask and ribbons, he said. Then – almost nervously, he bespoke Jingth, What color mask would you like, little Jingth-queen? I am asking the colorful one if she will make one for all of us, and you should get one too, so that you match… because I have to say, your hindquarters are sticking out of the front of that tent and it looks a bit odd. Maybe you will not stick out if you have a mask?
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Aug 22, 2009 11:37:52 GMT -5
Behruth stretched, careful to avoid knocking any of the fragile humans over. So many interesting things. Catching sight of lots of glinty bangles and niceties, the brown wended swiftly in that direction. He stuck his head in the door. Oh, look, Mine. The one who brought you flowers...she has so many pretty shinies! Mer? No, no. The other one. Behruth didn't bother to specify, even though M'ta was totally at a loss. He merely huffed at Kalina, eyeing the wares with more than just casual interest. At least he was behaving thus far. Thus far.
Why he was in such a good mood was beyond M'ta, though it probably had a lot to do with Behruth's high spirits. At any rate, he grinned cheekily up at Meira, leaning towards her slightly as if conveying some great secret. "You can just say what you think and call them crazy, you know. I doubt R'wign would mind, and I certainly don't. Really, they had no chance, considering who they Impressed to," he added, greatly amused at her attempt to be tactful. Dragons trying to disguise themselves as humans was funny however you looked at it.
Cocking his head to one side, he wrinkled his nose at Jingth. The gold was becoming quite familiar to him through Behruth, who seemed to like nothing more than to sprawl with the hatchling on top of him. Silly beast he was. You'd think he was already enraptured with the relatively small creature, but no...Behruth merely adored her as he did all small dragons. He'd probably let Jingth and all her clutchmates use him for sunning if they so desired. Sociable thing he was.
M'ta froze in place, half-bent as he was, rather humorously, shooting a glance back over his shoulder at Meira. "Did you seriously just say pink bells?" He bit back a laugh. "Trust R'wign to find the only costume ever made that sports pink bells." That was when it occurred to him that he was going to be expected to wear that costume, and that he really couldn't back out after challenging R'wign. Oh...dear...The pink wasn't so much a problem as the bell part. You couldn't sneak around in bells. They jingled.
And what about the heels? (Aside from the fact that he'd never worn anything with heels except during the part of his life he'd most like to forget, such footwear made it virtually impossible to move fast if you had to.) "Okay, we're going to have to go see that. I refuse to wear heels unless they're stilletos," he commented lightly. If R'wign had taken up his challenge, he'd meet it...no matter how ridiculous he was bound to look. Truthfully, though, he meant the part about the stilletos. If he was going to be forced to wear heels, he wanted some that could double as a weapon, thank you much.
Padding lightly in the direction Meira had indicated, he still had to ask, "Is there someplace for you women to hide knives beneath your skirts?" The question was supposed to sound nonchalant, but he was going to make sure Miss Smiles Way Too Much didn't have any nasty surprises for them.
At Checkoth's answer, Behruth tore himself away from the shiny stand - a difficult feat, to be sure - and attempted to worm his way over to his clutchbrother. The end result was an adult brown the size of a large blue wedged tightly between stalls, stretching out his snout to nudge at Checkoth's hinds to get his clutchbrother's attention. Tell them I want ribbons like Mine's. Please? I can pay in pretty shinies, he added cheerfully. Trust Behruth to actually want ribbons with pink bells.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Aug 22, 2009 23:28:57 GMT -5
The only response R’wign received was a chirrup. Not as impolite as usually would have been offered to people who tried to suggest/demand/imply things to Handsome, but certainly not pleasant either. No, he wouldn’t sit on the brownrider’s wrist. That was what a pet did, and he wasn’t a pet – he just wasn’t. And anyway, the blue added, blurring emotions and images together, he liked sitting up where it was high. And R’wign’s head served nicely for this purpose. See? Both wings spread and flapped to lighten his weight for a moment (as considerate as he was going to get, whether or not R’wign realized it) before Handsome settled again, careful not to prick the brownrider, because that would be bad – then his perch would get upset. Just to make sure Eriena wouldn’t snatch him off again, though, the firelizard’s claws wound around the brownrider’s hair to prevent her – or R’wign, for that matter – pulling him off. Smugly flapping his wings again, the blue uttered another low croon, and leaned down to eye Eriena, daring her to pluck him off.
She didn’t – fortunately for her hands and for R’wign’s hair; Eriena just crinkled her nose and frowned slightly behind her mask; R’wign distracted her quite efficiently, however, and she clicked her tongue petulantly, about to point out that Handsome didn’t listen one way or another – not to her, anyway, and not to her little sister; only to his Bonded – her mum. He’d do anything if she asked it (even be nice), but that same affection did not extend to either of the woman’s daughters, though the blue did fawn over the baby. Siiigh. Still, she bit her tongue, sending another glance up towards Handsome, who had settled to preening with an air of complete dignity, ignoring any motions that his perch might be making. R’wign speaking again made her eyes widen, and she gasped in amusement at the thought before giggling, both hands rising to cover her mouth (lady-like, the motion, even if her chattering wasn’t).
“You couldn’t possibly!” She was much more interested in the idea of someone arriving at the Dance Square nude except for a mask than in a baby – babies were much too commonplace for Eriena; the one she had to deal with now was nothing short of constantly noisy – and her eyes were wide behind her mask. “I mean, that’s – ” Her words were cut off as Checkoth’s voice sounded in her mind and Eriena blinked, freezing instinctively, hands still covering her mouth, which had formed an “O” of astonishment beyond her fingers. “Was that – was that Checkoth?” she stammered – a question that she didn’t expect answered; it was more or less rhetorical. Of course it was Checkoth. “Can he hear me? Oh, the gold can, can’t she? Oh…um, um. How much would you be willing to spend? For the costumes, the clown and this one and the masks, and could I take measurements? I want to try to make a dragon-mask; I didn’t think of selling them before and maybe I could…I mean,” she added absently, already far along on her idea, “You’d get them for free ‘cause they’d be the first ones I’ve ever made so they probably won’t be perfect and anyway you gave me the idea but I need measurements. And…and lots of stuff…measurements first, though. Can I?”
“I wouldn’t call them crazy even if I could. They’re cute.” Still, Meira grinned slightly behind the mask – that she’d almost forgotten she was wearing. Did she have to take it off in order to buy it? Hopefully not; M’ta had tied it already and to take it off and have to re-tie it was such a waste; much easier to just keep it tied and buy it as it was. She’d end up putting it on again right away anyway. And – speaking of dragons and masks, did they sell dragon-sized masks here? It was at a Weyr, the Gather, but still; Meira doubted any of the dragons before had come up with such a…unique idea. A quick glance around yielded no dragon-sized or shaped masks, though – a pity; Meira didn’t want Checkoth or Behruth to be disappointed and…maybe they’d just be satisfied with gauzy ribbons or something…?
Still, between M’ta’s amusement and the thought of the very same brownrider wearing the outfit that Jingth had just so helpfully provided her an image of (hideously bright, for sure), she bit her lip to keep back the laughter. The smile still came, though; she bowed her head slightly in an attempt that was more automatic than conscious to hide it, turning towards the location Jingth was offering her as well and following M’ta. “I’m pretty sure the fact that firelizards all swarm to him has something to do with it, too – that blue was the one who showed him, wasn’t he?” she commented, before she glanced down towards PMS again – not good if the blue Salamandyr was hurt. Not good at all – wasn’t he usually extremely happy? She didn’t ask, though, having been taken completely by surprise by the brownrider’s question.
Knives beneath…skirts…?
“Um.” Her nose crinkled slightly, and she considered for a moment. “Well – probably yes, but I don’t know for sure…” It was tempting to ask why he wanted to know. Meira almost did – and then decided it was probably not the best idea; though one eyebrow rose questioningly, she didn’t ask. Much better not to; if he wanted to tell her, he’d do that when he felt like it was appropriate. Their path through the racks of masks had taken them just behind R’wign and Eriena, facing the costume; as soon as it was fully within view (which put them only a foot or so behind the shopkeeper and brownrider, given the crowded positioning of the racks), Meira stopped, glancing over it again before she looked sideways at M’ta. “Do you…like it…?” Right. Because it was definitely possible to like the neon monstrosity.
I don’t know. Jingth’s response to Checkoth was almost startled; the queen twisted her head around to look out of the stall, but she couldn’t quite see them. Huffing quietly, the hatchling turned back to examine the masks hanging on their racks. Hmm…she thought she was pretty enough without a mask (vain, who, Jingth? Never!), but if she must have one – perhaps it would make her stand out still more? – certainly it had to be a nice color to offset her hide. The hatchling almost asked for the same coppery-shade as were the markings on her hindquarters, but while they were pretty enough on her, the color en masse would look…bronze. And bronze reminded her of that stupid Weith and there was no way she’d have a mask that could possibly resemble him in any way. Dark brown, perhaps? Her tail twitched slightly, and the hatchling squirmed awkwardly again, belly scraping into the tent even further. I do not mean to stick out, she added. I do not think I fit, though. And the one that scares MineLove wouldn’t like it very much if I knocked the masks off of their racks…
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Post by glamourie on Aug 23, 2009 4:49:25 GMT -5
Pfft. Just like Grouch. Refused to do anything without a direct command from his mindmate (Grouch was slightly better with R’wign but was known for being obnoxious to everyone else), and didn’t much care who he inconvenienced. Well, R’wign decided, he didn’t much mind it so long as the firelizard didn’t dig his claws into his scalp… and if he did, Ellie and Handsome would have words, and the normally pleasant-tempered Gold would have to make Handsome leave. He could feel the firelizard practically nesting in his hair and resisted the urge to roll his eye. Typical bratty flit. At least he was relatively well-behaved. If he wasn’t hurting anyone, R’wign wasn’t going to protest. He’d fight the battles he could win, thank you very much. The brownrider’s green-eyed gaze lingered on Eriena, his hands folding at the small of his back as he rocked on the toes of his feet; he was getting to be an expert at flirting his backside off. Not that he was lacking experience. He’d been an insufferable flirt most of his life, even if he’d taken awhile to adjust to Selenitas and his lifestyle there.
“Yes, that was Checkoth, and – yes, Jingth can hear you,” R’wign said with a curious glance at Jingth; he hadn’t noticed her, though Checkoth’s words made him peer at the gold in interest. He spun back around before shrugging. “I don’t think she’s much in the habit of bespeaking people other than Meira, though, so you’ll have to forgive her that. Checkoth’s a bit on the unusual side when it comes to friendliness. He positively adores talking to people not me, and he can hear you, too. He can hear and see everything that I can. As for measurements, you’d have to ask my companions in regards to their dragons – but Checkoth’s more than willing to let you measure whatever you like on him. He’s outside though, a few paces away; the last thing we want is to scare the Gather visitors.”
Indeed, the brown was unusually friendly, even for one of his color. He crooned in positive delight at the idea of a free mask and bespoke Eriena again – quite happily stating, Behruth clutchbrothermine would like ribbons and bells like the ones on the mask and costume that R’wignmine intends to buy for His. I’d like light brown. We’re a little ways away, because there are a lot of people here, but I’m sure clutchbrothermine wouldn’t mind if you measure him. I wouldn’t either. You’re such a nice colorful lady. I’m Checkoth. Can I keep you, colorful lady? He’d put her in their weyr and keep her, yes he would. She’d be his shiny, like Behruth had his collection. Jingth stole Meira away, so he was in the market for a new female as it was… this one would be satisfactory, yes she would.
Rolling his eye at Checkoth, R’wign smiled. “He’s very fond of bright colors, more so than I am, or my friends. I’ll introduce you after we pay – do you have someone else to run the stall? And um – well, we’re preparing for a baby, but I don’t want to suggest something entirely unreasonable to you either, especially if you’re willing to make dragon masks for the sillies out there. So – what about, hmm, six marks, and I’ll throw in something from my stall as a bonus? I have a lot of air perfuming agents that I’m selling – or I will be when I finish getting a costume. You could have your pi—Meira and M’ta, how nice of you two to come and join us. Can our lovely hostess get measurements of your dragons for their masks? She’s offered to make them each one for free, since they’re her first customers, and I’m sure she can find something dashing for Checkoth, Jingth and Behruth – aren’t you?”
Because yes, flattery was always the answer. R’wign half spun and offered the pair a wry smile before nodding toward Jingth in greeting.
Meanwhile, Checkoth was practically glowing in delight, and he actually flopped over half on top of Behruth with a rumble of joy. He almost collapsed a stall. Almost. Fortunately, he narrowly avoided it, though he did rest his head on the other brown’s back with rapidly whirling eyes. I told her you want ribbons like Yours, I did. She’s nice, she is, she said she’d make them for us for freeee. I like this one. Can we keep it? he asked, before swiveling his head to look at Jingth. Why is MeiraYours afraid of the colorful one? She’s nice, she is. She’s going to make us pretties for free. Dark brown… hnn, okay… Yours should tell her you want dark brown. I’m getting lighter brown because it will match me better. He was still nervous about Jingth but no one could deny the exuberance in Checkoth’s statement. Why are you trying to cram inside anyway? Dragons don’t fit in doorways. I tried to fit into the dusty place and I got stuck. Don’t get stuck, Jingth-queen; it would be bad, and then Behruthclutchbrother’s, mine and Peppeth’s would have to rescue you. They did me. Checkoth: Role model extraordinaire.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Aug 23, 2009 12:03:45 GMT -5
M'ta quirked an eyebrow at Meira, his amusement more a cynical one than hers, though that didn't make him any less amused. "That bad, is it?" he commented dryly. The small teenager puffed out his chest - which, ironically, wasn't really altogether that small...seeing as how M'ta was built quite strongly for his size - and strutted, though this was more for Jingth's benefit than Meira's, as evidenced by the little smile he shot the gold's direction. M'ta was amazingly soft where it came to young ones. Especially since Behruth, who absolutely adored little dragons. And firelizards. And salamandyrs. And human things. And bugs on occasion. "No need to worry. I can make anything look like a Lordholder should be wearing it. You'll see. They'll all be going around in jingling ribbons and heels before long."
The brownrider was immediately back to his usual plotting, however, when Meira answered in the affirmative. Knives under skirts. He peered at Eriena from behind half-lidded eyes, weighing his chances and edging slightly closer to her. It seemed she already had R'wign under her evil thrall. Or was it the healer who had her? Hard to tell, but either way it wasn't good. Nope. R'wign wasn't paying attention and soon he would be jumped and dragged off and... okay, probably not. The majority of M'ta's earlier paranoia was absent, but he still didn't trust Eriena and he still wanted to make sure her skirts weren't hiding anything unpleasant. It really wasn't such an unreasonable desire, was it?
But of course she wouldn't just show him. People had to be ever so difficult.
Glancing at the costume obediently - so it wasn't clear that his mind was very much elsewhere - M'ta froze in his subtle stalking and stared. Then snorted. It was a most impolite sort of sound, but honestly. That? He got a headache just looking at it. Suddenly M'ta broke out into a grin. He got a headache just looking at it! Breaking off his circling of Eriena, he approached it and eyed it critically, before flicking one of the bells. Yes, it would make noise and the heels would be annoying, but the costume itself was such an eyesore that you'd have to be a masochist to look at someone long enough to attack them in it. Perfect.
(Yes. Only M'ta could actually find value in something like that.)
"I don't think it'll fit me," he commented finally. "Not without adjustments." Sleeves and legs would have to be shortened, the seams let out to make more room for his shoulders although...leaving it partially open would solve that problem. He smiled at R'wign, the expression turning even more sickly sweet as he tried it on Eriena. "Behruth would hardly protest being measured for a mask. You have no idea how excited he is." Oh good, good R'wign. Keep distracting her. And...there he went. The brownrider very definitely ducked under Eriena's skirt in search of the daggers Meira had told him might be there, catching her by the hips to keep her from kicking him in the face or something.
In the next moment he was back out. Well, that was a relief. "She's clear," he commented lightly, apparently unaware - or at least pretending at it - of how ridiculously inappropriate that action had been. She could have killed them all!
Likely, though, it was less M'ta's paranoia and more P.M.S. prompting him toward acting on that seed of doubt. The clever little salamandyr was using the resulting distraction to slink across the floor and dart up R'wign's back, undaunted now that he'd spotted the firelizard who had gotten away. P.M.S. plopped right down on R'wign's head and curled his tail around the firelizard's body, crooning happily. He'd foooouuuund him.
Ruth staggered a little under the weight of his weyrmate, trying to keep himself upright so as not to squish anyone. He crooned at Checkoth even as he wriggled back a little. Wouldn't do to make humanly pancakes; then they'd never ever be allowed to Gathers and that would be quite a shame. For free? That is good, right? (Behruth didn't really understand marks, so the concept of something being free was equally foreign.) He crawled over Checkoth in a rather confusing tangle of limbs and tails, finally managing to worm his way close enough to attempt to peer over Jingth into the shop. It didn't work particularly well, and he didn't see much, but he did nudge the gold with a leg.
Tell me what's going on? I can't see. Are they bringing the bells? You should wear bells, too, pretty shiny Jingth-gold. His head swung around and he crooned at the Checkoth-pile. Come. Come see. There are lots of pretty colors.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Aug 23, 2009 17:16:42 GMT -5
The only response M’ta received from Jingth for his troubles was a low croon that spoke undeniably of her amusement as the hatchling flipped her tail, and inched forward along her belly again, almost halfway into the shop by that point; her head was turned to appraise Eriena curiously. She didn’t look scary; Jingth couldn’t understand why Hers didn’t want…hmm. She would ask, later, just so she’d know what kind of people to avoid in the future. Yes. That would work nicely, it would…and for the moment, she’d just watch and see if she could figure it out for herself. The hatchling crooned low in her throat again, eyes whirling rapidly as she stared.
Eriena turned to meet the gold’s stare before looking back at R’wign, a smile still firmly in place across her face. “That’s okay,” she replied, still apparently fascinated by the foreign voice in her head; so weird and strange and was it wrong that she wanted to hear it again? This time she’d be prepared, she would. “And umm, yes. Of course I’ll ask them; why didn’t I think of that? Silly of me, I should go find them; where’d you say they we – oh. Oh…” And she hadn’t been prepared that time, either! Eriena’s eyes widened and she snuck a look upwards at the ceiling (just making sure that Checkoth wasn’t up there, somehow) before she decided it was probably best to stare out the door, given that somewhere out there, the brown who was addressing her undoubtedly was. Her mouth opened into an “O” again, and she froze entirely, gaze landing in confusion upon Jingth, who was still eyeing her curiously; maybe if she looked at Jingth she could imagine Checkoth…? Hmm, hmm…oh, she did wish she could see him; it’d make it so much easier to comprehend the voice inside of her head, but she couldn’t.
“Uh,” she stammered. “I – yes. Of course. About the bells, I mean…um, I don’t think Mum’d be too happy about my being…um, kept. And I need to run the shop, see?” She indicated the shop with a wide sweep of her arm, before she squinted at R’wign again. “You’re sure he can hear me? I feel silly…” One flick of her hand dismissed the idea of someone else running the stall, and Eriena said (very rapidly, and in one breath), “Mum can’t ‘cause of the baby but my little sister can and taking the measurements shouldn’t take too long, so I can take them and bring them back in here to actually make the masks, and that ought to work out okay, and – hi.” Her head turned to look at the other two customers, before Eriena turned back to go on, “And that’s fine, the price, I mean, I’m sure you’ll make me rich off of dragon masks so it’s definitely fair…and isn’t it lovely?” she added, glancing over at M’ta and catching not the snort but the grin. “I loooove it, and adjustments are okay; I’ll do those after – are you buying that mask – ? It’s two and a half marks.”
“Uh,” Meira replied (she’d jumped visibly when Eriena spun around to face her), “Yes – um, yes. Jingth should be okay with that, and yes, I’m…buying it…” Two and a half. Not as bad as she’d been thinking; it was pretty…“I – ” The words were cut off at M’ta’s…ducking beneath Eriena’s skirt, her mouth fell half open and she nearly choked, unsure whether or not she should be laughing or horrified; certainly M’ta’s comment made her want to laugh (though the laughter would be on the hysterical side), and – well, she could guess now why he’d wanted to know about the knives…? One hand rose to cover her mouth, though whether she was hiding a smile or dismay Meira didn’t entirely know; certainly she wasn’t sure which she was feeling for the moment. On one hand, M’ta apparently hadn’t meant it as anything…bad, but no doubt Eriena would react badly…
She did. Who wouldn’t?
“EXCUSE YOU! What do you think you’re doing?” Her nose crinkled in her upset, and the shopkeeper indignantly ran both hands down the front of her dress, huffing unhappily at M’ta. “Didn’t you ever learn manners? You can’t do that! It’s rude and I should slap you but lucky for you I’m nice and I should punish your dragon by not making him a mask but I’m nicer and more polite than that and hmph.” Her mouth turned downwards petulantly, and she turned to R’wign, pointing at M’ta. “Where’s his dragon? Can you get Checkoth to ask him why he did that? So rude.” Her nose rose haughtily into the air and Eriena marched around away from M’ta to put herself halfway behind a rack of masks. Keep him out of her skirt, that would…
Meira bit her lip as hard as she could to keep from giggling, bowing her head to hide her amusement. Eriena’s reaction had been uttered in one long breath, and the huffy attitude the shopkeeper adopted made her want to smile – a reaction disguised by her hair slipping back from her shoulders to hang down on either side of her face. Her amusement vanished, however, at a squawk – emanating from a certain blue on top of R’wign’s head; for a moment, Handsome didn’t move, merely hissing at PMS; both wings flared widely and then he thrashed. His perch’s comfort was definitely in jeopardy, though Handsome had the presence of mind not to scratch R’wign in his efforts to remove the Salamandyr from his immediate area; his tail flipped in agitation and he took off in the next instant in the vague hopes of leaving PMS on top of R’wign’s head before he circled around and landed on M’ta’s instead. This one would do. Much shorter, so not as good, but he’d take what he could get and at the moment it was Salamandyr-free; how could he resist that?
I’ll tell Mine in a moment, Jingth agreed, crooning from her doorway in a blatant show of amusement; her tail flicked. She wants to know if Yours is okay, but she doesn’t want to offend the scary one. And I don’t know why she’s scary, but she just is. And Hers, of course, was right. I think you will look very nice in light brown, the hatchling added. Why dragons needed a mask, she still couldn’t comprehend, but she was okay with it. I want to be able to see Mine, the gold explained, turning her head to peer out towards Checkoth. I do not think I will get stuck in this one. It’s soft, see? For emphasis, Jingth nudged the folds of the tent, which gave way beneath her muzzle before she pulled back and crooned. Also I’m not big enough yet. But thank you for the warning. I won’t get stuck…so, er…is Yours okay…? The flitter didn’t hurt him…? Silly flitter; what was wrong with PMS that agitated him so? Didn’t he know PMS was nice?
The nudge from Behruth made Jingth turn to look at the brown again, and she crooned at him pleasantly before she provided him with images – starting with Hers and Behruth’s joining Checkoth’s and the scary one, up until that point. Perhaps I will have bells. Silver ones? she offered, and then turned to nudge Behruth’s leg lightly. The scary one is not happy with Yours. Why did he make her unhappy?
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Post by glamourie on Aug 24, 2009 2:54:50 GMT -5
No keeping the colorful lady? Checkoth visibly deflated (though only the dragons would be able to see it), and his head ducked, before he crooned toward the shop. Oh. Okay. After the shop goes away, can I keep you then? he asked, apparently not to be dissuaded from his plans. He liked the colorful one (and couldn’t understand why anyone else wouldn’t). Unfortunately, he was talking right as ShortyRuth’s chose that moment to dive under the girl’s skirt and though he couldn’t actively see it, he knew what happened and actually squeaked his embarrassment. The brown’s eyes whirled in his humiliation and he ducked; he was just glad it was not His going underneath the girl’s skirts. He could only imagine how mortified Behruth surely was. He was sufficiently horrified, after all, and it wasn’t even his mindmate (although he was mentally pretending he did not know ShortyRuth’s at all – no, he’d never met the boy in his life, they didn’t live in the same weyr or anything, total strangers…)!
The horror that Checkoth felt was mirrored on R’wign’s face, though it was quickly washed away in a flare of pain from his scalp at the hair being pulled, and he shot an annoyed look at Handsome. His gaze followed the firelizard to M’ta’s head before he reached up and gently plucked P.M.S. from his own, holding the salamandyr in his palms with consideration. He didn’t speak to the salamandyr, though, instead whirling on M’ta his eye narrowed into a dangerous slit. Yes, he was agitated, and yes, it showed.
“I can’t believe you just climbed underneath a woman’s skirt – clean – what – I’m sure she is clean, I’m sure her bathing habits are fine and if you meant anything else, so help me, I’ll put all of my firelizards, not just Ellie, on hiding your knives! What’s wrong with you, throwing yourself under a girl’s skirt! What did you expect to find there, other than her under garments? You’re lucky she hasn’t beaten you with a broom, you’d deserve it, really!” R’wign broke out, looking suitably horrified, his arms flailing around as he spoke. “Some weyrmate! Some – I can’t believe – I’m embarrassed to know you! Apologize! Right now! Apologize to her, M’ta, and you better hope that this young woman is more considerate of others than you are because she was just offering to make your dragon, and mine, free masks, not to mention give us a discount on costumes and you go and – oooh!” He flailed his arms some more, looking flabbergasted, and then turned his back to the group.
Solely so that he could smile; it was hard not to laugh hysterically, after all.
R’wignmine says to play along, Checkoth said to Behruth, Jingth, Meira and M’ta all – more to keep the smaller man from panicking than anything else, though Meira playing into the act was essential for its success. He’s hoping to not have to pay full price for the costumes, and he doesn’t want the colorful one to realize he’s trying not to laugh. He’s not really mad. The brown dragon ruffled his wings, obviously entertained as much as embarrassed. He didn’t see why His found it so funny, but… well, the amusement was contagious. His gaze turned toward Jingth, and he said curiously, Maybe MeiraYours should mention the bells when the Colorful One calms down… but I think silver bells would look nice with you. I don’t want bells. Oh – your name is Jingth, and you will Jingle… Apparently this amused Checkoth immensely, as he started rumbling, eyes whirling his pleasure. Jingly Jingth. He was glad that she was pretty sure she wouldn’t get stuck. Doors were evil, you see.
R’wign spun back around and looked at Eriena, his expression back to a humiliated look, before he took the girl’s hand and kissed the back of it politely. “I’m very sorry for my companion. He’s only been in civilization a few Turns and well, you can see he hasn’t much in the way of manners. Please accept my apologies on his behalf and my own for his behavior…”
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Aug 25, 2009 8:48:53 GMT -5
M'ta unwittingly backed up R'wign's later assertions about only recently being 'in civilization' by staring at Eriena rather blankly, openly taken aback by her behavior. He didn't understand what the big deal was. (For someone who tended to blush at the mere suggestion of nudity, it was an odd thing indeed.) Truly, the female body was of no mystery to him. Nor was it anything special. Part of him would never put the same value in covering certain parts that most people did. Seeing what was under clothes didn't bother him; it was the absence of clothes, which put him in mind of things people did when they were nude and not bathing. Seeing a little bare leg or even underclothes beneath someone's skirt? Didn't fall in the same category.
(In short, if his thoughts and intentions were purely innocent, then he couldn't fathom why anyone else would think them anything but.)
Figuring that she was throwing a fit because he probably would have stolen whatever weapons she might be hiding beneath the folds of the skirt, he rubbed at his scalp, avoiding the extra weight of the firelizard perched there. "I would've given 'em back once Ruth stopped being stingy," M'ta responded, the comment entirely too vague if the person he was addressing wasn't aware of the backstory. He tried a smile on her, fully intending to follow her behind the racks (and maybe coax her into lending him the dagger that he was sure she had somewhere) when R'wign suddenly started ranting.
M'ta froze and stared at him openly. Wai- what? His expression was nothing short of comical. He looked as if he'd been struck, blinking owlishly at R'wign. Apologize for what? Glancing from Eriena to his weyrmate, he then turned his gaze to Meira, who was no help at all. She was laughing. Even more confused, he looked to Handsome on top of his head, questioning of the firelizard, "What are they going on about?" in soft tones that likely would go unnoticed beneath all the racket.
Naturally, Behruth could hardly understand what M'ta didn't. They were people after all, and people were uncommon strange. You would look very beautiful in silver bells, commented the shiny expert, crooning his thanks to the little gold for letting him see. I do not know. He was looking for pointed shinies, but he's not supposed to have any. Maybe she knows that and that's why she's mad? He didn't think so, but he couldn't figure her out and was more interested in bells, anyway. You don't think she won't make the masks now because Mine is being bad, do you? Oh, that would most annoy him! Bad ShortyHis!
And now M'ta was doubly confused. They were playing games now? He eyed R'wign for a moment, the dark hues narrowing into slits as the healer proceeded to more or less call him a heathen. Well, fine then. If he wanted him to play along... M'ta plopped down onto the floor where he stood and began singing some craziness about firelizards and flitting (adapted from Ruth's flutterbye song). If R'wign wanted an uncivilized crazy, he'd get one. P.M.S., for his part, forgot Handsome for a moment and began bouncing up and down. He knew this song! Little bye's punctuated M'ta's words here and there. Behruth ducked his head beneath a wing, whether to hide amusement or simply hide, it was hard to tell.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Aug 26, 2009 15:41:44 GMT -5
Was it wrong that she was amused? Probably so. Meira pressed her lips together firmly, forcing the smile off of her face. She would actually likely have been mortified if she hadn’t known M’ta’s reason for diving beneath Eriena’s skirt; as it was, Eriena’s reaction made her want to giggle, and the blank stare she was receiving was…justified, Jingth interjected, the gold crooning; it was a good thing that Eriena was not looking in her direction at the moment, because the hatchling’s eyes whirled in something that was very blatantly amusement. It made the scary one upset, it did. That is a good thing. She’s not so scary when she’s upset, is she? Her hand still pressed against her mouth, covering the smile; hopefully Eriena would interpret it as shock or horror – or, preferably, not even notice; the shopkeeper looked thoroughly distracted and didn’t seem likely to so much as look in her direction; the look she was sending M’ta was quite the nasty one (from the safety of behind one of the racks; only her head peered above the masks and costumes).
“Given what back?!” Eriena demanded, the shopkeeper’s hands pressed against the sides of the rack as she leaned forward indignantly. “My underwear?!” Because, yes – that was all that was under there. Her cheeks were bright red, though the blush was half-concealed by her mask; either way, it didn’t conceal the flash in her eyes – which turned into surprise when R’wign burst out into his rant; Eriena turned her head to stare at the other brownrider, and then M’ta again, in a mix of annoyed pleasure: See! See, he deserved to be yelled at. Fortunately, that R’wign was actually trying not to smile was lost upon her; Eriena knew only her mortified indignation at her underwear being seen – and not by any mistake of hers, oh no, because one of the customers had had the nerve to dive under her skirt. Both hands smoothed down the front of said skirt violently at the thought, and Eriena eyed M’ta suspiciously, edging a little farther around the rack (towards R’wign; he was safe, clearly).
Handsome’s only reply to M’ta was a bored chirp, the blue ruffling his wings and then helpfully offering a mental replay of what had just happened. Humans were so silly, weren’t they? Absolutely ridiculous. The way they insisted upon wearing those hampering, icky fake hides, as if they didn’t have their own hides – and got so fussy about it too. Or was that only Eriena? It would figure if it would; she was just that silly.
Her nose crinkled behind her hand, and Meira bit her lip to prevent the laughter from spilling at R’wign’s demonstration of frustration before she glanced sideways at M’ta. Obviously he still didn’t get it, judging by the look on his face. She managed not to jump at Checkoth’s voice in her mind – mostly because she’d become accustomed to hearing the brown – before she managed to wipe the smile off of her face and drop her hand, head still bowed slightly. She couldn’t look at any of them, or she knew she would laugh, and focused on Handsome instead. The blue’s bored contemplation of the group made it that much easier not to laugh. Right? Right…her gaze slid cautiously away from Handsome once Meira was sure she wouldn’t laugh, just as R’wign kissed the back of Eriena’s hand. The shopkeeper looked mollified, but only slightly, looking around at all of them; Meira shrugged apologetically at her –
And then – What is he singing?! Jingth’s amused alarm was palpable as the hatchling crooned again, eyes whirling rapidly now. Meira stifled a giggle by biting her lip before she glanced down at M’ta, one eyebrow rising questioningly. He’d make her laugh and ruin it and – “see?” she offered weakly to Eriena, nodding down at the brownrider seated on the ground singing about what sounded like firelizards. “Uh…yeah…sorry, he’s just…like that?” The questioning turn in her voice probably took away the effect, but fortunately Eriena didn’t seem to notice, staring wide-eyed in confusion at M’ta as she pressed her elbows against the top of the rack, leaning forward curiously, for once silent – apparently M’ta’s singing simply had her that enraptured. Or…something. Singing about flitters and flitting around was not all that impressive, after all.
Both of them liked silver bells – they received a pleased purr from Jingth, though the queen was much too interested in what Behruth’s was doing to offer more than that for a moment. After a pause, though, she did reply – abstractedly, at best, but still a reply. Thank you. I will ask for silver bells, then. And…oh. I didn’t think of that…yes. Yes, I suppose you're right... The last was aimed at Checkoth’s comment; she gave a startled croon at the thought before she flicked her tail, and then turned to nudge Behruth’s leg curiously. Do crazy people sing? she inquired. Is that why Yours is singing, he’s trying to be crazy…?
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Post by glamourie on Aug 30, 2009 7:01:08 GMT -5
Ruth – Stingy – R’wign’s mind connected it at last, and he rolled his eye again. When they were out of Eriena’s presence, he was going to verbally brow-beat M’ta. While the entire behavior was hysterical to him (yes, it was quite funny, even if the poor shop keeper looked scandalized), it was utterly illogical. Someone who wanted to attack them would probably not keep knives under their skirt and if they were going to mount an assault, one on three wasn’t very good odds in her favor, plus she only had one firelizard when he alone had eight. So that was really one human, one firelizard, versus nine firelizards, three humans, one salamandyr, one gold weyrling, and two brown dragons. Decidedly stacked in their favor. All he thought that the woman was guilty of, though, was trying to make a sale on a large group of people. Or, “large” as far as gather pairs went. Three people coming in all at once, together, wasn’t common at Gathers. He had a stall, he’d know. While she was insanely upbeat and thus kind of agitating, she certainly didn’t deserve to be embarrassed the way that she was. Unfortunately, R’wign didn’t think M’ta understood at all why she was upset… it wasn’t in his nature. Pity.
But M’ta did reinforce the idea that he was half-mad by sitting right in the floor and singing. R’wign exhaled sharply before gesturing to him and shaking his head. “He was ill after the attack on the Weyr, and sometimes his behavior shifts. Most of the time, he’s perfectly normal. Then he’ll do something so outlandish that we just can’t even begin to fathom it, and – and then he just sits and rocks, singing, for awhile, before he finally goes back to normal. If it helps any, well, I don’t think he’s much interested in your underwear. Not that you’re anything less than staggeringly attractive –” That was added to hopefully keep the woman from being insulted, “ – but my friend is kind of… not interested in anyone romantically, and I don’t think it would ever dawn on him to feel anything odd about his behavior or what he saw. Just the same, I at least know he was being inappropriate. I’d like to make it up to you – is there anything I can do to earn your forgiveness for the three of us?”
Part of that was actually genuine. R’wign meant it that M’ta likely didn’t realize how scandalous his behavior actually was, and he really did intend to make it up to the woman if she was willing to let him. While spending time around miss Insufferably Cheery wasn’t high on his to-do list, if it kept her from turning the other shop keepers on him then more’s the victory… and he was betting that she was a gossip. She looked the sort to babble endlessly on about everything taking place around her. His eye flicked toward Handsome, one hand coming up to rub his head where he’d had his hair yanked, and frowned. Ouch.
R’wignmine will convince her to make the masks, Checkoth reassured Behruth triumphantly. Mine is very good at convincing people to do things that they normally would refuse to do. He has a gift for it. He will make the colorful one think that he is most assuredly sorry – although, you could try apologizing to her too; I think she likes hearing us. She seemed happy when I talked to her. His two tails flicked around animatedly behind him as he looked toward the stall, and then he spoke to Jingth and Behruth both. I don’t think people sing when they are crazy. But what would he know. He didn’t know much about crazy people. R’wignHis wasn’t crazy after all, he was just eccentric and he liked to sing… right?
Shaking his head, Checkoth settled down and mentally poked Eriena again. Are you angry with Behruth’s for climbing under your colorful hides? I don’t think he meant to peek beneath your tail, Colorful One. Please don’t be mad. ShortyRuth’s is silly but he really is a nice person. One time he rescued me from an evil door. And if that wasn’t proof to M’ta’s altruism, nothing was. Surely she’d understand!
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Aug 30, 2009 15:43:26 GMT -5
It is the flutterbye song, Behruth responded, sounding just a touch surprised...and greatly amused. But he's not singing it quite right. Listening, Ruth made a hruming sound that was suspiciously similar to the garbled tune his mindmate was singing at the moment.
It shouldn't have surprised him that even the firelizards would be sarcastic today. Breaking his song for a moment, he growled at the creature. "Yeah, thanks." Which was unlikely to break the illusion of being an utter basketcase, truly, given he went right back to flits and byes. As if he didn't know the events that had taken place just a moment ago. Although it was rather interesting to see all the different expressions he hadn't caught the first time, he must admit. Apparently it wasn't acceptable to duck under skirts. Well then. Now he knew.
The deep voice that could sometimes surprise people coming from so short a man was magnified when he sang, even though he was quite deliberately singing softly because it made him seem that much...madder...and so he could hear everything everyone else was saying. At R'wign's quick amendment regarding Eriena's - beauty? - down below, M'ta couldn't help himself. He snorted, covering the reaction in a fit of coughing that turned him nearly scarlet. Pressing his forehead to the ground, it was all he could do not to dissolve into laughter. Oh, nice catch, R'wign. That sounded perfectly sincere.
Probably best to 'revert back to normal' before he completely gave himself away by tittering. Behruth's words flooded his mind, the brown letting him in on what he was telling Eriena. Do not be mad, colorfulblabbermouth. Oh dear. He really had to apprise Behruth of what was rather...insulting...when it came to his mental monikers for people. ShortyMine says peoples hide pointed shinies under flimsy skins lotsabunches. It is my fault, Behruth added sheepishly. He has gone just a bit crazy trying to find pointed shinies...normally he is only crazy in the head. M'ta's eyes narrowed. Why was everyone determined to paint him for a loon?
Was it really so strange to be a little careful as to the people around you?
Of a sudden, he bounced up onto his feet. While he might not understand why, he certainly understood that he'd done something wrong. M'ta wasn't stupid. The brownrider glanced around, blinking as if he'd just woken from a dream. He glanced at Eriena, eyes widening, then covered his mouth in a quite overdone pantomime. In a moment he'd dashed around the shelves at a full sprint, halting on a dime and falling to one knee. It really shouldn't have been altogether surprising to those who knew him that he was capable of acting a part, even though he rarely bothered. Catching up Eriena's hand, he brought it delicately to his lips, never once breaking eye contact. A stray curl fell before his eyes.
"I can't believe...I'm so sorry, miss. Completely unacceptable. The mindhealers insist that this is all only temporary, but I'm beginning to despair..." He waved the thought aside with a hand. "But no matter. No matter. Please, allow me to redeem myself. I'd hate to think I'd be forever in your ill graces due to this - illness - that refuses to go away. What would you have me do? I'm you're humble servant." Part of him was even sincere, in that he realized this problem had to be rectified, if only because he'd have three rather annoyed dragons - not to mention his weyrmate - if the deal went sour. Goodness. Who would have thought checking under someone's skirt would produce so much trouble?
Oh, I hope so, Checkbrother. Mine will try, too. I talked to colorfulblabbermouth, but I don't know if it helped much, Behruth added sadly. He glanced down at Jingth's nudge and gifted the weyrling with another croon. I think he sung that song in particular to look crazy. Singing isn't crazy. Normally. Of course not. Otherwise Behruth would be crazy, and he most definitely was not.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Aug 30, 2009 16:56:14 GMT -5
The look of blatant confusion on Eriena’s face was comical at best; her mouth was half-open in confusion (from the safety that was offered by the rack that she was hiding behind) as she stared at M’ta, eyes wide – she looked like she expected the brownrider to start turning somersaults in the next minute. When he didn’t, she slammed her mouth shut and narrowed her eyes instead, leaning forward on her tiptoes over the top of the rack to eye him suspiciously. Was he going to do anything again? Note: Do not wear skirts anymore. At least, not without pants underneath; apparently it made a target for crazy people. Scary scary… Eriena’s gaze flickered momentarily from M’ta to R’wign when the other brownrider spoke, before returning to M’ta in a blatant stare of both curiosity and confusion; her absentminded nodding at R’wign’s words made it clear than any insults she would have usually picked up had gone clear over her head. Earning forgiveness caught at the shopkeeper’s attention, though, and Eriena’s head turned and she stared at R’wign blankly, evidently taken by surprise.
“I don’t – you – um – ”
The look of complete bewilderment on the poor shopkeeper’s face – Meira didn’t know whether to feel bad for her or laugh at her; certainly it was a situation where, had there been others in the place, they would undoubtedly be in stitches. A pity she was trying to buy something; she didn’t think Eriena would be too happy with a customer laughing hysterically at her expense. It wouldn’t be entirely the shopkeeper, though – M’ta’s singing had Jingth crooning in amusement from her sprawled position near the door, and the gold’s amusement only added to her own. Said brownrider’s sudden coughing fit at R’wign’s compliment made Meira choke in her own attempt to keep back laughter, pressing her lips together and averting her gaze from everyone. Her face was usually very, very readable – fortunately, Eriena didn’t seem to be paying much attention to her, too busy with M’ta and R’wign; her hand came up to rub her nose as if embarrassed and cover the smile she couldn’t help in the same motion – in case the shopkeeper did look in her direction – a smile barely repressed as the shopkeeper jumped visibly.
Two voices. Two! Her mouth opened in confusion as she looked from M’ta to R’wign and then towards Jingth (the only dragon in sight at the moment), who flipped her tail in a silent display of amusement. “What – ?” she stammered. “I don’t – evil doors? And – and was that his dragon – did he – what did he call me – ?” A pause, and then her nose crinkled. “Pointed shinies?” The words were cut off by a decidedly startled, undignified squeak as M’ta jumped up and ran around the rack – her protection had failed! – to slide to a stop right in front of her and…what? Her mouth was open in shocked bewilderment, and Eriena goggled at M’ta, though, Holdbred as she was, she didn’t pull her hand out of his (though her fingers did twitch) before she swallowed. “I don’t know – um. I don’t need – I don’t have anything – it’s…okay? I mean – I mean, it wouldn’t be, but since you’re you” – a confusing statement, to be sure – “I guess it’s okay…” A frown of confusion quirked her lips downwards. “Who’s the Mindhealer, anyway?”
“Raebeli.” One word, but it was all Meira trusted herself to say; she didn’t want to laugh now and ruin it. Apparently it wasn’t enough, from the look she received from Eriena, and Meira specified, “That’s…her name.” Her voice was low enough that Eriena apparently didn’t catch the tight, barely controlled note to it; the goldweyrling moved forward cautiously to offer her arm as a perch to Handsome. The blue chirruped defiantly before he took to wing, landing on her arm as offered. Just because he didn’t like females as a rule didn’t mean he couldn’t make exceptions – namely, when his preferred perches were running around like crazies or had icky little beasties on them. He ruffled both wings and uttered another annoyed sound before he turned around on his new perch to eye M’ta disdainfully, adding a little hiss for good measure. Bad perch, that one was, taking off like that; hadn’t he known he’d almost unseated Handsome?!
Flutterbye song? The amusement was clear in Jingth’s voice as the gold crooned again, eyeing the scene in interest – she’d been primarily silent after both browns had answered her, apparently distracted by what was going on inside of the shop. Her tail switched idly behind her – she didn’t seem too concerned that, due to the fact that her hindquarters were still sprawled outside of the shop, flicking her tail meant potentially hitting people if they got too close. That would be their problem, not hers. She wouldn’t actually hurt them; she was still too small to do that – but it would teach them not to get too close to a dragon unless invited, wouldn’t it? It seems to be making the scary happy, she observed, meaning the actions of Checkoth’s and Behruth’s, not the song – that was already over and it looked like she’d just been extremely confused by that. The hatchling yawned, and then purred low in her throat again. How long do you think this will take? she added, turning to look at both of the browns. It was amusing, but oughtn’t they better be getting along…?
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