Elegance Personified [Mo'rya]

[Lotty]

Oh yeah...

Osnat speared her dinner brutally with the knife before poking it a few more times to watch the juices of the herdbeast spill out the sides and pool up on the plate. The girl, most definitely liked to play with her food. This was a fact that didn't change in coming to the weyr. Even during her time on the fishing skiffs she enjoyed her pretendy fun time with the whole cooked fish, using it as a puppet and pretending it talked before devouring it. Perienmoth of course did not approve of this sort of behavior. It is quite cruel don't you think? Or at least unrefined my Osnat. I expect so much more.

It's fun. You should try it.

I do not desire to sully my hide any more than I already do when eating.

Your loss.

She stabbed the steak one last time, splattering the au jus onto her shirt dreadfully ratty shirt, before finally cutting off a piece and chewing the meat with a loud smacking sound.... and she wondered why nobody ever wanted to stick around to eat with her. The girl simply ate like a viking. Osnat couldn't even take a drink without turning it into a big production and slamming the mug back down onto the table with a thunk. Sure she had been taught at one point how to be a lady, but it was truly lost on her in all the time she had taken trying to be one of the boys. It definitely showed in the ways beyond her table manners too. The girl's hair was just short of a rat's nest. It was brushed well enough, but still appeared as a shaggy mop... and her clothes. Her clothes as mentioned were freshly stained, but this was but another layer of grease to add to what she already had before.

Things were only about to get worse too. Her knife slipped, sending her hand forward and into her cup sending the vessel across the table before it keeled over completely splashing water onto the back of the figure at the table ahead of her. Oops! Or rather as Osnat so eloquently put it, "Awh SHIT!" With the words escaping she knew that there was no running away from this one, and prepared her best attempt at an endearing face, her hands up and ready for a half-wave. Leviathan, who was doing her best to ignore her bonded's insistence on being a completely uncultured bum, frilled at what she perceived as Osnat's weakness. Apologize not. It got in way of water. Say sorry to you he should...

[Kisha-Ra]

Oh please, I am starving indeed. The plea rose from a creature that would never be believed as round as he was but it didn’t stop Wit trying to beg some of Mo’rya’s meal for himself. He did at least have the grace to look slightly ashamed when Mo’rya fixed him with a stern glare.

‘How can you possibly be starving?’ the young bronzerider asked the portly creature that sprawled beside his plate. ‘I distinctly remember feeding you, and everyone else. So, since no one else is telling me they’re starving I can’t be going mad.’ In fact all of his firelizards had promptly vanished once their meal was done, off to whatever things were important to them, while leaving the lazier salamandyr to keep their bonded company and beg for more food.

Starving. Neglected. Unloved. Oh poor, poor Wit will soon expire. The blue declaimed in his most soulful tone as Mo’rya turned back to eating with neat efficiency. Of course, just when it looked like Wit’s ploy had a chance of success things started to go wrong.

The undignified yelp that Mo’rya emitted on having cool water splashed over the back of his shirt completely drowned out the expletive from the table behind him. Leaping to his feet and spinning around to glare at the perpetrator he found himself frowning at what was in many ways his exact polar opposite. The girl on the receiving end of the glare was a thousand miles from Mo’rya’s bright but tidy turnout. He pointedly wrung water out of his braided hair while her salamandyr lectured, even though it didn’t really need it.

Wit slowly raised his half frill in response to his golden sister’s display and rearranged himself into a sphinx like pose on the table. I think not sweet sister. She is simply clumsy. You should train her, not others. Wit eyes gleamed speculatively as he gazed upon Leviathan; was this a chance to gain another gold slave? It should be, because surely he deserved such, unlimited firelizards and unlimited salamandyrs to serve Wit in perpetuity.

[Lotty]

Hopefully Mo'rya wasn't planning on just staring at her, because odds were on her doing nothing but simply staring right on back. She looked on at him somewhat bewildered, with her eyelids pinned back to expose the whites of her eyes. With that long braid she didn't think that she would be face to face with a guy... er was he? She took a sidelong glance at the knots he wore. Bronzerider. Ah yes right, unless Pern was continuing to spew new surprises at every turn then she was probably forced to apologize to the rider... or well wingsecond at that. Awwwwwwkward. She wasn't exactly very good at the whole apology process, which was ever evident by the next words to have come out of her mouth.

Leaning back in her seat, she grasped the edge of the table in front of her should she need to quickly swing her body underneath it and hide. Realizing the futility of that plan, but outwardly not giving up on it, she managed to pipe up with at, "How... do youuuuuu......" she stalled then, "Ummm. Your hair it like really nice. I mean. Really. Nice. I hope I didn't like... ruin it with my water. I swear its just that..." Clearly knowing nothing about proper hair care, she would just as soon believe the guy should he tell her that his tresses were ruined and needed to now be chopped off.

Leviathan wasn't doing much in the way of going to her aid either. Not that Osnat really expected it. Levi was a gold and her attitudes reflected it. She wasn't going to stick her neck out for anybody, her bonded included. From the girl's shoulder the mandyr came down, not hoping, not crawling, but in the silkiest gait that a low profile dragonkin could manage. With her royal procession complete, ending on a spot across from Wit on the table, the gold pulled her crimson half frill against her neck demurely and wrapped her tail around herself as she sat upright, appraising this creature that dared question her better judgment. With a dangerously sweet voice the queen asked of the blue, Oh? And what we know of this? Tell me how so oh so wise... Not that any answer was likely to impress the contemptuous young gold.

[Kisha-Ra]

Mo’rya’s head slowly tipped to one side as he considered the scene before him, observing the expression change in the girl as her eyes flicked to his knots. He was going to stop wearing them, he really was, as soon as anyone realised he had bronze knots on they seemed to think he was terrifying. Whoever this was seemed to be about to leap either under or over the table to escape his wrath.

The somewhat awkward compliment won a smile from Mo’rya, even though his amazing hair was now rather damp he was still as prideful as a cat about it (hence why it hadn’t been shorn off in the dragonrider custom), the follow up comments however were enough to spark a little mischief in the young rider. Pulling his braided hair forward over his shoulder and running it through his hands as if examining it Mo’rya put on his most mournful expression and shook his head over it. ‘Well thank you, he replied in a broken tone ‘but I think it’s shrunk a bit, the cold water probably…’ Mo’rya very nearly spoiled everything by laughing but he managed to keep the impulse down to a slight twitch of the corners of his mouth, a mannerism that might just be mistaken for the suppression of another emotion, hopefully.

Wit folded his frill down one spine at a time and ruffled his oversized wings a little, taking his time about replying to his golden sister. I am older, wiser yet. Know much, tell some, perhaps if sweet sister play nicely. The tubby blue leaned forward as if imparting some great secret to the younger gold. I have trained many, they need discipline still though. Always training must you be if you hope to have a well trained human.

[Lotty]

Surprised and wide eyed, the weyrling watched as Mo'rya combed through his braided hair and nearly cooed at it's awe inspiring length. Osnat, was by no means girly herself, but she could appreciate something that was pretty, whether it was on a man or a woman. Considering her own locks, it was easy to covet the bronzerider's no matter how impractical it really was. How exactly did he fly around on his dragon without that braid flapping out behind him and slapping him all over the face? He certainly had to have a method... though it was probably a question better left unasked, as he gave a rather piteous look at the shrunken ends of his hair and expressed his distress at their shriveled nature. With a scratch of her head and a perplexed sort of "uh" escaping from her lips, the dumbfounded girl scrambled for something to say to the man.

"So.... is it stuck like that or somethin'... I mean..." it's not like she had never stuck her head in water. But it was usually salt water and on sunny warm coasts... the effect was tousled and abused hair, but if it had physically shrank she was never aware enough to notice. For all she knew exposing one's hair to the cold was the crime of all crimes, "We can stick it in some warm water and badda bing, you're good to go right?" She gave him a critical sort of look that said she was devising a plan on how to do exactly that before rising fully to her feet and pouring her body in a deep lean over the table to give it a closer look, "At worst I don't think it will take too long to grow back huh?"

Fully ignoring her bonded's idiotic discussion of hair of all things, the gold was left giving her undivided attention to Wit. Of course this wasn't exactly her preference, but all things considered the salamandyr didn't have much else in the way of choices. As it was she listened to him all the way through, visibly bristling a bit with the mention of training. Training? Who was he to make such mention of this to her, superior by nature, and destined to be the Queen of all the Weyr. For such transgressions she trailed out her long tail to poke the blue in the nose before replying, And how pay for such training from you wise-old-one? I owe none at all. Ever. Any advice gifted to her came with no strings attached, and the only tethers were those held firmly by her, if she ever had her way about it. Smug golds could be smug.