Let me Spell it Out for You (Mi'rah)

[Requiem]

Early morning. Absolute best time to spring things on people, considering she'd taken a night shift to avoid people after losing K'lir's son - her son - to the crowd in Hyphen. Nothing like an ambush when you were awake and the other party wasn't. Kalierre liked Mi'rah enough, though, that she gave him a small head's up in the form of a Phremath. The green nudged at Kierjaarth's mind almost shyly. Kierjaarth? Mine wishes to know if Yours is decent. And asks that you'd please tell him not to bother if he's not. (Phremath wasn't sure what 'decent' was, but it undoubtedly was one of those naughty things humans said that made no real sense.)

Should sleep, the bronze on the top of the hand holding the cane grumped, eyes slitted with annoyance. "Go to sleep, then. No one's stopping you." Ugly blaremouth cricket never stitches face. Which only drew a snort from Kalierre. Lust had a tendency of getting more - creative - with his references when he was tired. Fury responded with a decidedly uncreative, You cricket. Pebble think-sponge. The green 'mandyr trotting along on her hindquarters by Kalierre's foot hissed. Sponge not. Lust 'gree. No think-sponge t'all. Dust-bit think-sponge. Germy think-sponge.

"You both have tiny brains," Kalierre interjected cheerfully. (And why wouldn't she be cheerful? This argument should be rousting anyone in the near vicinity from sleep, which appealed to her current mood of nastiness.) "Now that we're here, why don't you put those tiny brains to good use and not speak?" No cow-finger Lust. King is. "The word is kowtow." Cow-finger better, he responded, testily. "Cows don't have fingers." More stupid Lust, Fury declared smugly. By this point they'd all come to stop outside Mi'rah's door, and he'd undoubtedly heard the last bit of the ongoing insult war.

Cow no have toes, neither. Trust the bronze to insist on getting the last word in. Kalierre rapped on Mi'rah's door briskly. "Get a move on, Mi'rah. I don't make many personal visits." Which was an excellent way to start off the 'I am stealing your wingmembers and you can't do anything about it' spiel that she'd be giving him. Not that she'd planned what she was going to say. It wasn't like she needed permission. (Well, technically she probably did, but who was going to care?)

[Lotty]

Kierjaarth was stirred from his sleep by the gentle peeping that had tickled against his brain. How curious. How very, very, curious. Fortunately enough when his eyelids parted there was the swirling shade of blue and green. He was humored by the request; so shy and polite it reminded him of a feminine and stutterless type of request from his own bonded. It occurred to the bronze that it was almost cute, and so after a playful rumble replied, What is that sound? Do I hear a hatchling darter chirping away? It is not the time for such little baby flyers but... he paused for a moment before faking an epiphany, Oh wait no. It is just the sound of a Phremath. I suppose I should pass the message along to Mine then...

And by now that prickling of dragon activity had reached Mi'rah's own brain, but the mind voice of his bonded was certainly enough to drive a final nail in his sleep, Phremath's is coming. Regardless of how 'decent' you are. She says not to bother, but really you should.... What was it about the early morning that just brought visitors to his door? It wasn't like he didn't exist outside of these four walls... couldn't they find him then? No, the healer women just liked to catch him now, it must have been something about the morning hours... they needed the essence of fully rested bronzeriders or something for their poultices or something. He wasn't going to ask though... their crazy business.

The sounds of ever enjoyable mandyr speech was coming down the way though... he heard it rather vividly and knew there was little time, the man was forced to roll over and pick up the ugly drab brown robe he had chucked the night before. He had managed to pull it up over his shoulders and around his waist by the time the woman was rapping at his door and calling to him. His first reaction was to sush her since Doppelganger was sleeping like a log yet, but unfortunately Peccadillo was incredibly irritable and curled up on her pillow, Stupids at door. Rahrah answer now! Pecca sleep.

"Uh huh......" was his sleepy reply to the green mandyr as he shuffled over slipperless to the door. At least there were no surprises to be seen, it was in fact Kalierre on the other side, but without his morning klah to help him out sort of lingered there to lean against his door frame, "Morning?" Another moment, "W-what inspires this... rare... meeting?"

[Requiem]

Phremath could not resist a draconic giggle. The green had not yet met a dragon she didn't like, and Kierjaarth was certainly no exception. I'm not a darter! she called back to him, finding the idea nothing short of amusing. Yes, yes, a Phremath. Are there other Phremaths? I should like to meet them, the green added. There was the slightest trace of longing in her mindvoice. To think! Other dragons like her! Now wouldn't that be something?

Upon Mi'rah's opening of the door, Fury regarded the tall and fuzzy brown thing standing there through slitted eyes, her tail swishing back and forth as she considered. Good be, the green commanded shortly. (Apparently the bronzerider posed no threat, even to a highly paranoid little salamandyr.) Then she darted past his feet to make a round of the room.

Kalierre watched her personal - and not terribly effective - bodyguard checking out the room beyond for a couple seconds before returning her attention to the man she'd come to see. Rude lard-stick. Never taught manners, st-st-stutrer? "Manners indeed," Kalierre muttered, flicking Lust's tail with a silent command to stop being such a noisome grouch. As if such methods had ever worked before.

"Though it is customary to offer guests a seat." Not that the dragonhealer seemed at all put out at being left standing out here in the hall. In fact, she'd reached forward and had the edge of his fuzzy brown robe between thumb and forefinger, as if the texture of the bathrobe was the most intriguing thing presenting itself at the moment. There was a touch of wickedness in the expression on her face when she turned it up toward him. "Interesting choice of attire."

Lifting the edge enough to make him nervous if he was feeling modest this morning, she dropped it at the critical point and shrugged a shoulder. "The visit's a matter of professional courtesy. Dorava won't be turning up at your drills anymore; I've commandeered her. She was more than happy to accept the offer...something about interest in a man on your wing and ethics. I can hardly follow the logic." The woman waved the idea aside dismissively. And just possibly intentionally brushed his arm with her hip and the side of her breast as she passed him. "Anything to drink in these cupboards, Mi'rah?"

[Lotty]

Not a darter? I'm not so sure I believe you... he replied, speculation thick in his voice before he gave up on the thought. He was becoming more and more intrigued with the things that the green was saying to him. Other Phremaths? Well he didn't want to think that anything was impossible, but then if there were other Phremaths that meant that there must be other Kierjaarths and he was much too full of himself to think that he was anything but special. So for the sake of argument alone he ventured to guess that no, she was totally and completely one of a kind even if it betrayed the hint of hopefulness that he should have played upon instead, Hmmm you know.... there is no telling if there are other Phremaths. If you met yourself would you be the same? I'd rather not wonder if I have another one of me, and so I don't, but if you would like my opinion I think no two are the same... A virtual sort of tongue twister of an answer. The sort of thing that contradicted itself quite nicely if he said so himself.

Being out on the ledge, the dragon had little concern for what was going on in the weyr itself, but Peccadillo inside was on the verge of fuming when she saw the foreign mandyrs not only at her door, but invading her area. If she was one to actually use words, she would have, but these... these cretins were much too far below her, and instead she took to doing what she did best: bending Mi'rah's emotions to her whims. Eyes yellowed, she sprang up from her pillow and bounded to her bonded's shoulder in a series of leaps. Creeping up against his neck - which tickled somewhat - the manipulative little green fluttered her translucent wings before giving him a rare lick. See? See how wonderful she was? Now stop paying attention to these fools! Called Rahlove lard-stick. Avenge best served hot... smashes it door in face...

It was a mostly silent plea that didn't really work. Due in part that Mi'rah being the owner of two and babysitter of another mandyr, was becoming incredibly good at blocking the things out, that and Kali was doing her darndest to distract him with the whole bathrobe bit. Yes, yes... he knew he was wearing a robe, what about it? It was the morning after all, he didn't think it would be a look that was to be all that unexpected, and when the greenrider commented on it he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow... followed by something of a flinch when the woman teased him with a daring tug of the cloth. Wicked, wicked, woman he had on his hands here.

It was almost enough to distract him from what she had to say next. The very deliberate brushing of her body against his own did not go unnoticed after all, and there was a sputtering rush to answer her round about request for a drink, "Uh-uh... I-uhm. Y-yes... there should be something I suppose... in right one, but um..." don't drink too much because it was an expensive spot of the hard stuff? Fat chance he'd say that to a woman who drank like a fish, and he knew better than to think she was looking for klah anywhere but a kitchen, "Uhm... glasses are over to your left."

He was just rubbing his eyes and closing the door behind himself when the words ran into him a bit late. What was this nonsense about Dorava? She was commandeering her from him? Oh no she didn't. He immediately picked up the pace to beat the woman to his cabinet and leaned his hand - and his entire weight - against the door. Kali was getting nothing out of him without further explanation, "What did you say?" It was incredibly clear words coming from Mi'rah of all people, but of course followed up with another string of stammers, "N-no... no. I just... I don't understand why you need her. I need her w-what are you doing. You're killing me thats what and...." this part was clearly confusing him just as much as it was her, "I just don't know what you mean about this man on my wing ethics business."

[Requiem]

I shall have to show you, then! And Phremath landed on his ledge a moment later in a flurry of wingbeats from her half-sized wings, managing to hover over the ledge for a few seconds before setting down gently. The green rubbed her body up against Kierjaarth's and nuzzled his neck. See? I am much too big to be a darter, the small dragon told him laughingly.

Of course, Kierjaarth's response left the poor green hopelessly confuddled. She may be bonded to a Kalierre, but that didn't mean Phremath was any less simple than she'd always been. A Phremath is a Phremath. Why would a Phremath and a Phremath be different? If there was another Phremath... Here she spread her tiny wings and flapped them, causing a faint buzz. They would not call me wrong because there would be two of us.

The bipedal mandyr regarded Peccadillo suspiciously, but the other green was spared anything more given the private nature of her conversation with Hers. Once Fury was convinced that the salamandyr would stay on the chubby one's shoulder, she relaxed and went to rejoin Hers. Lust wasn't even bothering. This was going to be a long drawn-out affair, wasn't it? Well, he'd just go to sleep then. Bah.

Kalierre shot a smile over her shoulder at him, reaching back and loosening her hair with a contented little sigh. Off-shift finally. A pair of glasses was snared from the cabinet on the left, the greenrider just in the process of opening the cabinet that held the holy grail - at least in terms of completing the decompression - when a hand closed it rather forcefully. A brow rose with her chin as she looked up at Mi'rah questioningly.

Ah. Slow processing time. More importantly, there was a solid Mi'rah between her and the liquor. That could not be allowed to stand. "I said I'm commandeering her," Kalierre repeated cheerfully, adjusting the hair spilling over one shoulder - and the fall of the shirt - in the process. It dipped lower, suddenly giving a rather more interesting view of her cleavage.

"Well, you see, Mi'rah...some people just have such a - difficult - time concentrating," she commented, leaning toward him a little until she was brushing up against him, "when there's an attraction there. Not everyone can be as professional or logical as you or I." She smiled up at him, hand sliding up his bathrobe, one finger tracing beneath the edge of the closed sides. "She finds none of my healers as attractive as G'tor."

While she spoke, her other hand went to the cabinet, seeking to ease it open.

[Lotty]

He hadn't really expected the green to try and prove herself right. He knew she wasn't a darter, but then, maybe his voice was a tad too serious for some to take the right way. So now what to do with another dragon on his ledge? Kierjaarth supposed he should just welcome the company... especially since the company was nuzzling him and greeting him so enthusiastically. In the back of his mind he considered the fact that this went against some kind of principle....maybe he had a green he mated with not so long ago. Ah yes, her name, her name was Rajjjjj - he picked the rest out of Mi'rah's memory - Rajnith. Hmmmm well wherever she was, she most certainly was probably doing much the same as he was now. Guilt free was the way to be! So he nuzzled just a little bit back and responded to her statement on what constituted a Phremath. I see, I see. Very wise. But what if... if a dragon that looked very different from you had the same name? Do you think that can be so? Our two-legged friends sometimes name their children after one another. There could be another Mizrah somewhere, so why not another Kierjaarth? At this point really, he was just being silly.

Mi'rah was feeling pretty silly too, having to block Kali's way to the liquor cabinet. She definitely was not taking his presence as a serious obstacle and was already working her wiles to try and get her way. As her shirt fell, he challenged himself not to look. I'm sober and she is not going to use her ah-tahs to win on this one... you have a wing to maintain and you'll stand your ground. He did his thing then... you know, where he gets visibly uncomfortable and wriggles his fingers before staring up at the ceiling. It was a pretty impressive ceiling if he could say so himself, there was a little crack right there, and the stone was a perfect sort of bluish gray that always tended to lull him right to - wait. Why the hell was she touching him now? And touching him under his robe at that.

Needless to say he decided to look.

"Uh huh, t-totally logical," he managed to get out as she pressed against him. He knew really that she just wanted the booze, and just to be defiant he leaned a little harder against that door, "She should just m-make a sacrifice, since she w-would be a huge loss to me and my wing and she throws it off balance and.... what will I get in return?" He thought he was being pretty clever here trying to make a business deal, but then a wave of pure funny hit him when the thought the whole thing over again. She said G'tor right? He couldn't help but take his hand away and get out that drink himself. Who cared if it was early morning? They were cripples weren't they? This kind of activity was allowed.

Laughing somewhat slightly the bronzerider reached for the glasses and sent a smile the healer's way, "Attracted to... G'tor? Does h-he know about this? Last I heard G'tor had it bad for Kaegan," not that he understand that weird union either but the chain of unrequited love still humored him to a degree... to enough of a degree that he almost didn't even mind Kalierre taking Dorava off of his hands, and here he was all worried that Dorava had eyes for him... S'rei did try to play matchmaker that one time anyway.

[Requiem]

The nuzzle was really all the encouragement that Phremath needed...all the encouragement that she had ever needed. The green immediately made herself comfortable pressed against Kierjaarth, crooning contentedly as her tail slid over his. No, that cannot be. We name ourselves. Only another me could name herself Phremath. But the green didn't seem altogether sure. In fact, she was entertaining the idea and finding it singularly disturbing. How many Phremaths who weren't her might there be?

Well, darn. More of a Mi'rah pressed against that door, which made it just that much more difficult to reach her goal of pleasantly intoxicated. Kalierre briefly considered the whole hysterical female bit and discarded it. Simply wasn't her. Then her eyebrow lifted. What did he get in return, huh? There was a twitch of her lips that followed his question which suggested something decidedly wicked, but...

Then he was laughing. Well. Kalierre blinked a couple times in rapid succession. Whatever it was, it seemed to put him in a much more generous mood, and she certainly wasn't complaining. The dragonhealer held out the glasses for him to fill while he entertained himself with his own private mirth-fest. "Shards if I know," she returned, wrinkling her nose at Mi'rah. "Do I look like someone all the silly femmes like to gossip with?"

Then she blinked, and it was Kalierre's turn to laugh. "Kaegan. Really? G'tor?" What was it with brownriders and that goldrider? Crushes seemed to follow her everywhere she went. "Well, however this turns out, it will most definitely be interesting." She took a sip of her liquor and smiled as the first bit of warmth hit her stomach. Much better. Now she only needed several more glasses to become numb to her empty furs.

A thought occurred to her. Eyes slid up Mi'rah appraisingly. "When do you have to go, bronzerider?" A slightly more seductive tone had entered into her voice, though she left the hintings to eyes and voice for now, in favor of continuing to nurse her hard-earned drink. "My shift is over, but I'm not quite - tired - yet." So saying, she drifted a little closer to him.

[Lotty]

There was a dragon all over him. Kierjaarth decided that he wasn't going to complain about this. He assumed he was going to chase her away one way or another, since he was going to keep on pressing the issue of copies, We do name ourselves don't we? Then I shall re-name myself. I am now Phremath too. What do you think about that?

He chuckled again as he poured the drinks, "I don't know. But I um... I know that I am never gossiped to. In an infirmary I - I figured you would hear things w-wheter you were told or not..." he explained his rationale. Sometimes he heard things without gossiping as well, and the infirmary had to be a hotbed of loose lips. Shards, you could probably eavesdrop on the mindhealer and hear a ton of confessions on a regular basis. So when it was readily apparent that this little bit hadn't met her ears, he was genuinely surprised, and almost proud of himself for having known something that someone else had not. Except... well there was one glaring issue with this... one that he realized as he brought his drink up to his lips. He'd gotten the bit from Tenlie and he had promised not to tell anyone.

More importantly: he had gotten it from Tenlie.

Ohhhh. He might have changed a special shade of clammy white when the guilt washed over him, and so he quickly tried to divert attention from the visible distress with a glance from ceiling to floor and another wasted comment that would surely lead to nowhere, "W-we can start a betting pool on if they ever get together... and how long they will last? That might be cruel though..." not that he was a pure soul by any means, but he did at least usually try his best to be a "good person".

Tried.

At first Kalierre's question was given a more clinical sort of answer. He took a drink and pondered, answering, "W-well, um... what day is it today? I think w-we start late, so I p-probably have another candlemark, two if I don't...." Until he noticed of course that she was drifting closer regardless of his answer. Not to mention her actual words were increasingly hard to ignore or misinterpret. His lips quivered a moment before clearing his throat and responding, "B-but I am the wingleader so... I guess I can go w-whenever I am ready to go?" He took another, longer drag on his drink until the stuff burned its way down his throat, "I c-can say that my.....leg hurts really bad today. So I'm kinda... dopey on some medicine..." By the end of the sentence his words had drifted off into the lightest of whispers. Not that he ever talked loudly anyway.

[Requiem]

Phremath turned her head toward Kierjaarth in surprise, her wings fluttering uncertainly at such an odd concept. He couldn't do that! But Kierjaarth is such a nice name. Why would you want to be Phremath when you can be Kierjaarth? You will shrink and your wings will shrink and you'll turn all green, and then how can you sire more pretty dragons? Phremath couldn't remember if he'd sired any to begin with, but she figured he'd be less upset if she was wrong this way than the other way.

Her tail continued to flick at the queer idea, before she decided that they needed something else to talk about. Preferably something that wasn't nearly so strange.I'm sorry that mine stole Aonith's. I told her that stealing is bad, especially stealing people, but she laughed. She does not listen to me much. There, that seemed far safer than discussions about changing names. Phremath liked her name!

Kalierre shrugged a shoulder. It didn't much bother her that she didn't know all the gossip all the time for the entire Weyr, though if Mi'rah insisted on making a contest of it, her competitive streak would no doubt kick into overdrive. "A betting pool, hm? Seems to me the proctors would make a ton of money if they set a limit of days from the correct day. It's so open-ended you're bound to win at least one of the competitions." The dragonhealer morally question much of anything? Hah!

A brow raised at Mi'rah's stammered - and not entirely desired - response. Was he determined to misunderstand her, then? The wicked edge took on an even more feral one as she contemplated breaking him out of the willful ignorance. But no, it seemed more like he was just that slow to pick up on the topic. Poor thing. Probably wasn't used to anyone coming on to him like this. Not that it would get her to stop...

"Mm. More than two candlemarks? Now that would be something to see. Who knew you contained such secrets?" Her hand moved to the sash of his robe, her glass held out to one side. She just toyed with it at first, though, interested in his reaction. Kalierre loved reactions in the right context. "We'll have to explore that when you have more time though. I'd hate to cause you to be late." She pulled the knot free.

[Lotty]

Phremath was wise to change the subject. There was too many replies the bronze could have made to the green, especially with the comment on the siring dragons. Oh he'd never done such a thing before. He was sure that he would remember that, although his lack of offspring had never bothered him all too much. He much preferred the greens, and golds were chased more so out of obligation than anything... installing his bonded into leadership and trial by fire were most definitely objectives of his, but otherwise the dragon had no true love for the big shiny egg layers.

He wasn't going to tell Phremath this though. He could just let her think that he was the typical metallic. It was so much more fun that way. Instead he canted his head to regard little wings and let his eyes whirl with a note of concern, I am saddened to see Aonith and Hers leave us. But it would not be stealing if we made a deal. If you must take them, then you will have to take very good care of them. If not, I will take them back. Yours may not like it, but I won't listen to her. I will laugh.

If only he was interested in making money. Then he might have meant the betting pool as more than just a passing joke. As it was though, he had no intentions of setting the whole thing up, nor any idea on how he would. He didn't have enough friends or acquaintances to approach about the whole deal, and any he did would probably immediately blab to G'tor and or Dorava about it which would be totally detrimental to the results of the bet.... oh and his relationships. That too. It was good then that the man was more than willing to live below his means, and besides, people were so much more important to him than whatever extra marks he might have picked up. People such as Kali... who had apparently decided once again that his attire was very interesting.

He was more or less gnawing on his lip as her hand settled on the knot of his robe's sash. What did she want from him really? Did she actually visit him over Dorava? He... couldn't help but think that she always took whatever she wanted, why did she grant him the great honor of telling him about her wing acquisition? As nervous as as such come ons generally made him feel - people only did this when they wanted something - his inner strategist was wondering the healer's motivations and demanding answers, despite the fact that all of the questions he had lined up were dancing around the main one. Why me?

In retaliation for the act with the knot, the bronzerider took a calming gulp of the magic elixir and with his free hand pulled at the already falling sleeve of Kalierre's shirt. It was only fair for her to be in a same state of undress as himself after all, and pleased with himself, he tried to shoot back at her with the same sort of teasing she had just offered him, "I....I contain many secrets....it would take more t-time than...those two candlemarks...." A wash of confidence came over him. It might have been a touch from Peccadillo who always found delight in playing puppetmaster to her bonded, but the overwhelmingly masculine touch hinted at a slight influence from the bronze.... sharding creature must have been feeling buttered up by the green on his ledge or something. But regardless of where it came from, Mi'rah made another move, setting down what little of the booze he had left in his glass to lean into the woman and corral her closer to the wall, "but... I don't think y-you are.... worried about making me late. You um... grab life by the horns don't you? You... get what you want..."

"So w-why did you really come here?"

[Requiem]

Well, I do not want Mine to be a thief... Phremath agreed thoughtfully. That would make Hers bad, wouldn't it? And Hers was not bad! She was Phremath's. She listened to Kierjaarth's deal very carefully, almost missing how he was kind of echoing what she'd said about Hers. There was another moment as Phremath processed that, then her eyes swirled a little swifter with silent laughter.

I wonder what she would do if someone laughed at her? As far as Phremath could remember - and admittedly she often forgot things from earlier that same day - no one had ever dared laugh at hers. Much less defy her.We will definitely take care of them. I like Aonith, Phremath reassured Kierjaarth, turning earnest. She tilted her head, anxious to see if the older bronze would believe her and approve.

The greenrider's eyes slitted, but it was decidedly a pleased look rather than an irritated one. She shrugged her shoulder slightly to aid in his little play, tilting her head the other way so her hair fell over that shoulder and not the bared one. "Would it now?" she practically purred. "Longer even than you think. I prefer to...discover...secrets for myself." Her hand slipped inside his robe, fingertips curled slightly against his abdomen.

If he didn't have the flat six-pack that so many of the pretty boy dragonriders around here seemed to, Kalierre wasn't bothered by it. She wasn't as slender as she'd been in her youth, either. Could argue that the extra weight improved her curves - and it did - but it didn't change the fact that it was there. Swimming could only do so much. Oh, the trials and tribulations of the crippled. Hah.

Her hand remained planted against him as she leaned back against the wall when he advanced, then slid up his chest. Cute. Cornering her while stuttering at the same time. If that wasn't a novelty of juxtaposition. A hint of a smirk touched the corner of her mouth, before it turned into a pout. "Now, Mi'rah. You really mustn't believe all the rumors about me. I know how to be professional when the situation calls for it. You have a right to hear about wing assignment changes from me personally."

The hand at his chest slid up to loop around his neck. "And perhaps I was just a little curious. Things should be enjoyed properly, shouldn't they?" she murmured, knowing he'd hear her at this close proximity. "And yes. I usually do get what I want." That last was punctuated by a chuckle as she used her hold on his neck to pull him against her. "And what do you want, bronzerider? If you're worried about being late..."

[Lotty]

When mine is laughed at he takes it well enough, but don't you find it funnier when they don't? It is cute when they turn all red. He told her this he supposed to reassure her... even if the results were not warm and fuzzies it was important to see the folly in the human's over emotive reactions. Aonith, ether way, was to be relinquished to their possession however, and if she promised that care would be taken of her and her rider, then Kierjaarth was just going to have to take Phremath's word for it. Besides, what was the worse they could possibly do to them? Phremath herself definitely didn't seem like the type to mistreat anything except out of some unfortunate mistake that the bronze at the moment couldn't even begin to fathom. Very well then Phremath. I will trust you with Aonith then...

It was.. something of a shock to be touched there, typically he was punched in the stomach, but this was a welcome change. Kind of. As self conscious as he was it was bothersome to have his little ego-trip derailed by the consideration that he was not some kind of adonis, and that Kalierre's very fingers would confirm this for all eternity. It made him hesitant. What was he doing anyway, being so unusually forward and brash? Being dumb enough to complicate his life further he thought... but then, despite it all, she was still wrapping her arm around his neck and beckoning him ever closer. Maybe it was the rare reward for doing something other than tapping his fingers together and worrying. Maybe.

As they settled into each other's company he attempted a joke. It was the only opportunity he had, now when he was eased enough to soften his stammers to that dreaded w sound, "So... which...which rumors should I believe? I heard one w-where you are a w-wanton sex fiend... but another....where you eat the...souls of men..." but she hadn't eaten his yet, so it was obvious which one he personally preferred to settle on, if not for the obvious reasons, but because he sort of liked the idea that he had an essence all his own, and he didn't really want anyone stealing it from him.

"I..w....want..." this was the hard part. What did he really want? Well he knew that he didn't need to do this, and that more importantly, he shouldn't do this, but that didn't address the issues of wants, "I want you... to stop talking... because you are making me stutter w-way to much." Not that he had any intention of not using his tongue however. He told his brain to shut up as well for once and went into autopilot, curling one arm around Kalierre's waist appreciatively while using the other to brace himself against the wall - could either of them truly trust their feet at the moment? Without waiting for permission he parted his lips ever so slightly only to press them there against the greenrider's. An exploratory little kiss, just testing the waters so to speak...

[Requiem]

I don't know, Phremath responded honestly. She didn't remember seeing a tomato person. How red? The little one was more than happy to be snuggling with her big bronze friend. (Clearly that was what he was now. All dragons should be friends.) The green crooned encouragingly to the male, rubbing her head against his neck in gratitude. Now Hers would not be a bad thief person. Mission accomplished!

Is she your dragon lady friend? the small dragon asked of him, out of the blue. Phremath knew that some dragons had special dragon lady friends. She did not call it mates cause mates was a once thing. It was more like a humany mating (which she didn't understand. More fun when they all shared.) I do not want to upset the Aonith...

Reaching around him to set her glass down, Kalierre didn't once do anything to increase the distance between them. She chuckled. "Such a small scope. I suck the souls of women, too," Kalierre responded wickedly. The hand now free of the glass trailed up into his short hair, fingers curling there. "Not exactly sure how four people in eight turns translates to wanton sex fiend, but if that's what you want to believe..." she concluded in a purr.

Granted, Kalierre wasn't naturally monogamous, and it had taken some doing to get her to understand the concept when she was abducted as K'von's weyrmate, the greenrider still was rather selective. Even when she'd been changing partners like pairs of shoes at Benden. Here she didn't have to play that game to keep herself secure against the less...savory...types. She could choose her own harem of favorites now, and that pleased her greatly. Not that she was likely to tell Mi'rah that he was auditioning...It would be rather amusing to see his expression. Maybe she would tell him if he passed. Yessss. That would be fun.

She grinned, tilting her head up to submit to the kiss, her body lax against his in contentment. Mostly. A hand parted his robe fully while they kissed. Nipping his bottom lip, she murmured, "But I like the stutter." A small pout touched her lips as she pulled back, leaning against the wall and looking at him expectantly. Little known fact: the dragonhealer was very feminine in her tastes. She preferred others to do the hunting.

[Lotty]

He was about to answer the first question, telling her that she needn't worry, and that humans only seem to get as red as the pink sides of seashells, but he was horribly thrown by the question she posed next. Oh no, the terrible subject of lady friends. Well, at very least he could be absolutely truthful in saying that Aonith was most certainly not one of them. In fact, he hadn't ever really talked to her that much at all. Aonith is not a lady friend of mine. She is special as a wingmate, but in that way alone.... Would it be cruel to convince the green that the best kind of love is that of wingmates and that she should therefore be on his wing? Probably. Or at very least it would be a confusing sort of conversation that would be sure to go around in a circle or two, and for that reason he let it be.

He couldn't help but kind of chuckle. Well, he knew that part to be already true, Kalierre didn't seem to mind male or female, which was fine with him if it was fine with her. Wasn't life that much easier when everyone was a little less picky? "W-wanton sex fiend is... positive in my regards..." Mi'rah explained even as she snaked her hands through his hair, his voice lifting positively on the ends as his lips settled again with a subtly pleased smile. All of this in spite of the fact that he vaguely knew that she was doing away with what little coverage his robe provided. The prickle of cold air just clued him in on the fact that just perhaps he should be making this fair for the both of them and doing much the same to her. Actually, he moved in turn to gather the hem of her shirt and begin lifting it up and over her head when she did the unthinkable.

Did she just compliment his stutter? Are you turning red? If so, do come out here, I'd like to show Phremath.

"I-I like your...." he caught himself realizing that wouldn't work. You couldn't very well compliment a woman on a stutter she didn't have, and not exactly knowing what to do when in a situation such as this he considered himself once again tongue tied, mouth slightly quivering with embarrassment. A roll of his shoulders shucked off the robe that Kali had untangled though, and he rather instinctively pushed forward to press his hips against her own, "I hope I closed the door... behind me."

[fade to black?]