[Round 1] K'sel vs. F'ur vs. Nephele

[rii]

K'sel vs. F'ur vs. Nephele

Round starter: K'sel
Follows with: F'ur, then Nephele
Time/weather: Midday, clear Sky, light breeze

—

[Lotty]

He squinted from the side of the "stage" looking out at the shiny, blonde heads of the local Blossomers and sneering at the way that the midday sun reflected off of their hair. Ugh these people, just a million spots for K'sel to catch some glare from and have a miserable time on stage, if there was any consolation, it was that he did have a small remedy for this; his own little cocktail that he devised with the help of the weyr mindhealer. He just knew the girl would be so excited to have a patient, even if he greatly exaggerated his mental state to get the goods so to speak. Yes, he was nervous, yes the anxiety was strangling him. Every day was a fight to exist and if only there was something to tame his savagely erratic emotions. Please healer lady help, help.

After hunting the woman down and pouring his heart out about the love lives that didn't belong to him and feigning some exasperation, Raebeli had enough reason to make him medicated. In the process, he got some practice in for the big storytelling contest...so it seemed that everything was going to work out. Too bad that what Rae had given out was about as exciting as some ground up aromatherapy herbs. As goofy and off the wall as she was, she did treat liars on a regular basis and knew better than to dole out the good stuff. So when the weyrling dumped it in his wine and downed the glass, all he would get is the typical buzz he was accustomed to. Pity.

He grabbed another glass as a prop, he was slowly settling down into his character, which actually just was an even more forlorn and downtrodden version of himself....ok, so his originality was all wasted on his story, deal with it. Then he was left to stagger up onto the stage with a stool under his free arm and set it center stage and lethargically sat in it, grimacing at the crowd as sighing as he readied himself to start his tales of the hopeless romantic.

The crowd stalled for a second, and quiet filtered throw the rows of spectators and it was then that he figured would be his best chance to start, rumbling in his perfectly dreary tones the story of a supposedly long lost friend's midnight tryst, "It all started when he was throwing up a night of lecherous glances and bottom shelf wine into a cauldron in the kitchens that he somehow mistook for the latrines...." he eyed the crowed curiously for reactions before in perfectly calculated stumbling, carried on with a slightly put on drunken man's charms, "This feline was a messed up guy, he was at least...." he spread his hands out in front of him, "at least this much drunk, ok? Well, he pulls himself up from the soup of puke and leftovers he has just crafted to look behind him and see that he isn't alone...this lady that walked up on him....well she was fine."

He set his wine glass down so that he could gesture properly, cupping his hands in front of his chest and nodding in an approving way to say, "Let's just say she was smart...well, she is slightly amused by seeing this worthless boozer on his hands and knees and says, 'I think you spilled your drink...' " K'sel curled his head to the side to catch the eyes of a few girls in the front row before carrying on, "He doesn't say anything. He's just trashed....so she has the balls to ask this pathetic little heathen, 'If you had three wishes, what would they be?' "

The brownweyrling looked over to where he knew F'ur would be waiting, and slipped easily off of his stool to give way for the next competitor to continue to weave the story along. Where it went K'sel didn't particularly care...he had the added obstacle of not only being against the Weyrlingmaster, but also his long time enemy/object of his desires: Nephy. An interesting match up to say the least, but he did not underestimate the power of his opponents to take this story to ridiculous heights - hence the rather mundane beginning. He had time...plenty of time to mold this into something. He crossed his arms.

[Requiem]

Still dressed in the white, rather elaborate costume, complete with the peaked hat with it's dangling bone bits that liked to clack dryly against each other, the thin bluerider was rather hoping he might be recognized from his earlier performance. It definitely wouldn't hurt. F'lix was an excellent 'dance' partner. Though he really just thought it would be fun to spin yarns with a few people. Winning wasn't actually his goal, and after finding that so many of the entrees were weyrlings, well...he liked some of the kids, even if he was more than happy to leave the headaches to Sel'n. Children were so much more fun than the old riders who had somehow managed to shove their heads so far up their respective arses over the last turns they couldn't tell fun from getting a tooth pulled.

Of course, right now F'ur was rather...incapacitated. He wasn't sure what sort of story he'd expected, but this certainly wasn't it. Head bowed to conceal the laughter he was just barely managing to keep in check, he didn't respond immediately as K'sel got up. Continuing to mask his amusement, he drew the stool over to him with one foot and settled onto it, bracing his hands on his thighs before finally lifting his head and canting it to one side with a clack of bones.

"Of course, our pathetic little heathen had quite a few wishes right about then, ranging from digging his own guts out with a knife since they seemed intent on causing him misery and showing this lovely kitchen fairy (and hopefully a couple of her friends) why he shouldn't be mocked. He promptly forgot his ire, however, when she knelt down near him, apparently suffering from an attack of conscience when he didn't respond immediately. In truth, she did have something of a change of heart. The poor fellow was so horrendously ugly and so terribly smashed - not to mention it seemed he'd forgotten he'd just emptied his stomach into the pot and was looking as if he was about to start eating it to soothe his convulsing guts - that she rather felt pity for the bloke."

Here F'ur paused, letting his gaze obviously trail toward K'sel. The boy had already aligned himself with this...drunkard...and F'ur had no problem perpetuating that. "Grabbing the comely creature, she was rewarded for her concern with a rather unsavory kiss. Only she had a beard and was old enough to be his grandfather. For you see, our hero was actually about this drunk," he extended his arms expansively "and had mistook an aging, male kitchen drudge for a lovely little wench. Much to his misfortune, I might add, because the man didn't much like being molested by a puking drunkard, and a half-greasy pan found his head in short order.

"This might have been the extent of our hero's adventures, lying in a puddle of vomit in the kitchens, but...well, the lovely little girl he'd always held eyes for - and who had turned him to drinking and wenching to begin with the last turn after laughing in his face when he made a pass - also worked in these same kitchens. It was to her lovely nagging voice that he awoke as she kicked him soundly in the shin to rouste him."

So saying he rose and gallantly offered Nephele the stool with an exaggerated bow.

[Ember]

Nephele had been matched up with a quite a pair. She was perhaps slightly more interested in what kind of story the Weyrlingmaster would turn it into than K'sel, if only because she didn't know much about the man at all. They had interesting weather for their story too. It seemed they'd be representing the lighter side of the Gather, considering the bright sun shining on them and their audience.

The girl listened to both of her competitors' parts with interest. She was somewhat grateful to F'ur for providing her something she could actually work with. As entertaining as K'sel's part was it didn't quite hold up to the Weyrlingmaster's if only because the drunkard represented K'sel so very clearly in her imagination. Nephele nodded politely to F'ur as she took the stool for herself and began her part of tale.

"At this point most anyone would be feeling sorry for the hero. A man spurned by love awakened by the one who had created such a pitiful creature," she told the crowd with a sad expression. "This man was indeed cursed. Not because his love rejected him or his unforunate drunken meeting with the kitchen drudge. No, our hero was cursed by having the most vivid of dreams. While he lay in his lovely puddle of vomit he was lost in the dream world where wishes really do come true."

She paused to let the crowd remember their own dreams and wishes before continuing, "The dream world granted his wishes. The first was to be handsome beyond compare. The second was to never run out of Marks. Perhaps the dream world would have even granted his last wish but just as he spoke his wish aloud he was awoken by the voice he both loved and hated. Do you know what happened then?" She watched as a few in the audience shook their heads in response.

"Our foolish hero believed his dream as real. As handsome as could be and richer than all the Lord Holders combined...he believed these wishes were granted. So what was his third wish? Why of course he wished the love of his life would love him back. The dream world had given him his other wishes so why not give him the girl too. Firmly believing his wish granted our hero stood before the girl and told her she was his."

Witrh her part said she vacated the stool for K'sel. Now what would he do with that?

[Lotty]

Touche. Touche.

Rather than deny it - back tracking would just ruin the flow of storytelling - he continued along with the third person narrative for the sake of himself and the audience that might have missed the obvious parallels. Of course saying "I" and "me" would have given it a nice personal touch that he wasn't so against, but why change point of view now? He was sure that it was done merely to throw him off, but the fact of the matter was that wasn't the way to throw off someone who was as self loathing as he was. He was thinking of ending the his part of the story with a 'that man was me' for the self deprecation value anyway.

No, instead he sauntered over to his spot with be sweeping steps and a good natured laugh. Yes....he was smiling. That alone was alarming, but then he stopped short of his stool so that he could make another pass around the front of the stage...he was dead set on winning the audience. Or at least the attention of a few of those girls...if only to mess with a certain competitor. He made his way back to the stool and eased himself on it. It was clear that he was going to take him time before he carried on with a, "Now listen...listen....to him...the science was all there! Clearly dreams equal really life. Drunken logic ok? Now...listen..."

He got off of his stool so that he could stumble and pace around the stage again. He was really getting into this, "So this girl, she was something...she - rightfully - looks at him in surprise and disdain as he makes his move, still covered in fresh vomit and a big welt forming on his head from that whack on the head and so....man she just doesn't get out of the way in time, they collide," he slapped his hands together for added effect.

"So he's groping and she is flailing around," more physical humor in the way of his mimicry. He was hugging himself with his back to the crowd so humorously, "until she got a good hit in. She slugged him right in the nose....but at the sight of blood dripping from his nose...can you believe it? She felt sorry for him...sorry. She gasps and says...'Oh my Faranth! Poor thing! I never meant to!'" Of course he threw his voice up a few octaves for effect. He smiled as he finished his impression before pressing forward, "So out of guilt she agrees to a date..." He cocked an eyebrow and left the rest for F'ur. Progressing the story was a going through a little rough patch so he had to toss it over before anyone could notice. Starting position seemed to be an issue.

[Requiem]

It was really a simple matter to put himself in the path of the preoccupied weyrling, stepping neatly around him with a lovely little cross of ankles for good measure. Here he was trying to clean the story up a bit, and Nephele was helping him with that, when K'sel dragged it right back. The boy was clearly a bit too far this side of drunk himself. So as not to disrupt the mood, however, he neatly caught the cup - that K'sel certainly didn't need - as the other male fell. "Can't let this go to waste," he stated cheerfully, moving on without glancing back at K'sel, though he did gesture to Nephele to help him up. Taking the barest of sips...and not swallowing because he held his wine about as well as an insect swimming in a vat, he flung the goblet in a dramatic gesture, spitting out the stuff.

Dancing back before the angry patron could get a blow in, he flashed a smile at the crowd. "Nasty brew. No doubt what our hero was drinking. That would roil anyone's guts."

He shoved his hands in his pockets, then, and tossed the hat back toward the stool. It missed. He shrugged and waited for the titters to die down. "Bringing us, of course, to the guilt date. Now, I'll tell you what, that poor girl was kicking herself for letting her softer feelings get in the way. He wasn't the most savory of individuals, after all, and this last encounter was hardly his best showing. But she put on a brave face, dolled herself up real nice - if she was going to do this she'd best do it right - and waited patiently at the spot within sight of the hold so she could get this overwith.

"And waited. And waited. A quarter mark past the hour, she was working herself up into a fine temper. She'd lowered herself to spend time with him, and here he didn't even have the courtesy to show up! Standing up, she dusted off her skirts, gathered up all her annoyance - clearly there wasn't a trace of disappointment in there, shards no - and tucked it all away nice and neat. She turned and....there he was. Though he wasn't at all what she'd expected."

Which seemed the perfect time to pass the buck.

[Ember]

Nephele supressed an annoyed sigh as K'sel brought the story right back to alcohol. Seriously, she'd have to break him of that herself one day. Not because she liked him - that was absolutely unthinkable - but because they kept meeting up somehow or another and she didn't need any drunken mishaps. She teamed up gladly with F'ur as he made certain to get rid of K'sel's drink while she helped him up. She might have whispered something to the brownweyrling but her turn was coming up soon, if she wasn't much mistaken.

And so it was dropped into her arms. Well, since she already had a hold of him, why not make a prop out of him? Not to mention K'sel already represented the male character pretty well. The girl put on a moderately surprised expression and pretended to give him a once over before looking at the crowd. "Just imagine her surprise! He actually cleaned up decently. Still not the most stunning stallion in the barn but he'd done well with what he had. He couldn't trick her though, oh no. Underneath his carefully crafted appearance he was the same person who'd kept her waiting so long."

Nephele roughly tousled K'sel's hair before taking slow steps closer to the edge of the stage. "The girl was so very close to walking away from him for good when he had the nerve to call out to her. 'Don't you want to know why I was late?' he asked her. The girl stopped," she told the crowd. She'd timed her steps perfectly really. She stood at the edge of the stage and sighed for all to hear. "She really was no match against that. Curiosity killed the feline, as they say."

She retreated back several steps and barely resisted giving K'sel a poisonous glare. If he dared to somehow bring this back to a drunken story...

[Lotty]

Hey! Thwamp! He suddenly felt the world fall out from under him and his head crack against the ground before anything else. Sure, in the morning his whole body was going to ache, but now some of that pain wouldn't be hangover alone (though K'sel really didn't think he was drunk enough to warrant one anyway). Oh yes, this little stumble would definitely leave a mark and a definite twist to the rest of his performance. He wasn't so much acting anymore, his lost wanderings and penchant for tangents were not controlled, all of a sudden he was very genuinely dizzy and very much out of whack. He could only groan as he was pulled up by the girl and even have his hair ruffled. Owwies...fingers against a tender head did not bode well at all.

Still, the show must go on! Right? He staggered away from Nephy as soon as the the reigns were handed back to him, and effectively ignored any glances she may have sent his way. She had better watch herself...F'ur too for that matter. As much as he smiled and took the harassment with a rather good nature, he still knew a thing or two about revenge. Sometimes he was subtle, and other times he would hit his target like a sack of bricks, but either way was inevitable. K'sel just happened to have all the time in the world to work with.

However, carrying this story on was a completely different matter. He had to pull himself together and do it fast, even if he was having a bit of a time trying to remember what it was that Nephele even left off with. He was late? The hero. The hero was late mine... Erm yes...the hero was late...it was up to him why, and it was very tempting to drag this story back into the ditches, if only to distract his competitors, but he did want to avoid any further physical injury, so he tried to sweeten the whole deal up with maybe a more traditional angle. Seeking advice was a wholesome subject right?

He forced an amused look out to the crowd, "So he stood before her with his hands behind his back," of course he was mimicking the actions himself, "and began to explain what made him so late. You see, he had never been so dead set on sweeping a woman off her feet. He needed advice, so he being the family oriented type of upstanding, wonderful, wholesome, kind of guy he is..." this was K'sel's way of trying to clean up a story, "he goes and asks his brother and tells him about this woman whose heart he surely possessed, and his brother looks at him in the eye with a sort of fraternal sincerity and says, 'Brother...you're delirious.'"

"So our hero stomps off in denial and goes to his father who would surely understand his plight. He recounts to his father how he has won the love and affection of the woman of his dreams...but still needs the perfect date. His father - a very serious man - nods along listening to every word...his mouth not even doing so much as twitching until...he spoke. Do you know what he said?" A pause for dramatic effect, "'Son, you're delirious.'"

He paced the stage a few times for good measure. There was no point in rushing through this. Besides, this was the third turn, he couldn't get away with tossing off the story so quickly anymore, "Finally he went to his mother...and recounted the same story. His mother though, was made of the same stuff - a real lover of dreams. She would never dissuade her boy from his little fantasies. So she told him he needed the perfect gift...and you see it was getting this gift for her - the object that was held behind his back - that had made him so late..." He stepped to the side to make way for F'ur. See? Didn't he do a good job not making this for mature audiences only?

[Requiem]

Sounded like a good thump back there - if a bit hollow - when K'sel fell, but Nephele went on with the story so F'ur figured the boy must be fine. Weren't they teaching people how not to crack their skull? A roll of the shoulders would have been sufficient. Oh well. It was Selenitas. They never quite did anything right by northern standards - and in some ways that was a relief. Because they didn't really need to, as it turned out. Yet. Yet.

Settling neatly on the stool - which he intended to occupy throughout the rest of the storytelling, since Nephele and K'sel were busy portraying their respective roles - he brushed at something on his sleeve. "So what could this gift possibly be?" Still looking at his sleeve, he turned his arm this way and that, as if expecting something else to be there, rather than a limb. "The little miss could only wonder. She had found him in a lovely puddle of vomit the other night. What did a drunken sot give a girl who had bloodied him up? Maybe, since his mother was involved, it wouldn't be anything too disgustingly inappropriate."

By now it was quite clear that the bluerider was far too fascinated with his arm. He'd pulled at the voluminous sleeve, peering down inside it and frowning. "Not that she was particularly happy about his entire family knowing about this date of theirs. She stared at him impatiently, electing not to chew him out about that until after he gave her the gift. 'Well?' she asked him abruptly." Now he set to shaking his arm vigorously.

"Boys being boys, however, he liked this power he had over her, even if it was only curiosity. So he grinned cheekily at her and shook his head. Girls being girls, she took the excuse to move close and try to peer around behind him. The two engaged in that awkward little adolescent flirting dance for a good couple of minutes, until she fell awkwardly against him and he caught her...tripping himself. Now that was just distracting."

While people were busy looking at his other arm, he'd palmed one of his fans in the opposite hand. "The little minx, it seemed, had planned this, though, for she caught hold of his wrist, determined to know what this present was." The fan unfolded, passing before his body, and when it passed a couple of sad looking trampled flowers, still clinging to their roots, appeared. He winced for the crowd, then shrugged. "A sad attempt at a bouquet, but it had gotten her to stay, had it not? (After all, he'd really just been chumming around, bragging to his boys, when he realized he was already late. The flowers were a last moment addition.) Her reaction, though...that remained to be seen. At least he had his arms around her for now. There was that."

[Ember]

Nephele was at a bit of a loss as she listened to the two guys' parts. She wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to do to lead the story to its conclusion. She supposed she'd just have to start talking and hope an idea came along before she ran out of words to say about the girl being held. The whole contest was about being able to take what your partner (or partners i nthis case) threw at you and keep it running so she'd have to find an idea somewhere.

When the story came back to her she started off with the girl's reaction, since that was given to her already. "Our lucky hero got to hold his girl for a little while longer as she stared dumbfounded at the sad little bouquet behind his back. The gift had our hero written all over it. But then the girl remembered who she was being held. Flustered, she told the guy he had exactly three seconds to let go of her or the date was off.

"So released, the girl looked around to make sure no one had seen the embrace," Nephele told the crowd. She was rapidly running out of ideas when Charming popped in to see what was going on with his human. Ah-ha! There really should have been a light bulb visible over her head. As the brown chittered in excitement to see all the people looking at him - who else would they be looking at? - the girl smiled and carried on with her tale. Thank you Charming.

"This is when the girl noticed the firelizard of one of our hero's friends that had become the only witness. Firelizards, being the little gossips they are, can spread the news to everyone else around very quickly. In a last minute attempt to escape the siuation, the girl attempted to leave once again but our hero caught her wrist..." Nephele shook her head slightly at the folly of the hero before stepping back a bit. Bleck. Perhaps she should have passed it off sooner. That certainly hadn't helped her at all. At least her brown was having fun fluttering around the stage...

[Lotty]

Well. Nephele had made a horrible mistake leaving the story off there, because this presented only one possible way to continue it. K'sel hated this fact because it left him torn asunder. Oh the mental conflict that came with it all! To thrill the audience at the risk of having a foot aimed right at his crotchal area, to risk proving all of the gossipers right, to risk messing up all the hard work towards peace with the girl...would it...could it be worth it? His eyes were dead set on her lips as they uttered out his signal to make his move, "'Wait!' The man pleaded," and exactly like the hero in their tale he quickly and authoritatively made a grab for her wrists. She might have been backing away, but he was a very determined young man.

One might think that he was going in for a kiss, but no, despite pulling in nice and close, K'sel paused and reached forward with a single finger and poked Nephele in the face and flicked away an imaginary fleck of dust, eyelash, or whatever. See, he could use people as props too! In the voice of the character he said plainly for all the audience to hear, "'My lady...you have some junk on your face...'" and just when you thought that everything was in the clear, when things couldn't get anymore awkward the brownweyrling then took things to the next step. He would argue to the end of his days that he was only doing this for the contest, only doing it because he felt the need to win and not for any personal reasons.

"And so it was then that he knew he would have her attention once again and did this!" He whipped his head around, dropped the girl's wrist, but planted a kiss on girl as quickly as he could. He had aimed for the lips, but settled for the first touch of skin he found before pulling away again, bowing to the audience, throwing up his arms and yelling in as a facetious manner as he could manage, "THANK YOU! I'M OUT!" Suddenly he didn't care at all if he lost or not. Though he did care if he faced bodily harm, so he made a conscious effort to side step his way in the other direction.

((If I took too many liberties, just let me know...))

[Requiem]

Really? He blinked, looking from one to the other. (And yes, he did consider it mutual. After all, she'd set that one up far too nicely to not have something in mind, if only subconsciously.) F'ur was on his feet and moving towards them, into K'sel's path again, smirking at the boy and taking him by the shoulders. "Is our actor allowed to leave the scene early, folks?" Pleased by the response they gave him, he leaned on the weyrling's shoulder. "Looks like this'll get me a good view for when she slaps you. Now if that isn't the face of surprised anger, I'm not sure what is." He ruffled K'sel's hair. "So said the older brother of our hero - the one to whom the flitter belonged.

"He'd apparently trailed the boy out here out of curiosity, and this failed attempt at romance - had he even gotten her mouth - was highly amusing to him. He stepped around K'sel and..." Planted one on Nephele. It didn't involve tongue, but yes, he played it up, banking on her still being too shocked from the first one. "That's how you do it, little brother," F'ur commented loudly, righting Nephele and dancing to one side before she could recover herself. Hopefully.

He placed a hand in the small of K'sel's back and thrust him toward the girl. If they were going to play out their silly little flirtatious teenaged love/hate dramas in the middle of this - well, he could help them. "And that meddling older brother just pushed them back together, saying that the girl should at least give our hero another try to do it right." Here, F'ur leaned out toward the crowd to add in a stage whisper, "It might also serve as a good distraction, or at least a good hurdle to pass through to get to him in the event she took offense. That girl's left hook was scary."

Fading back further, he crossed his arms and watched the rest with a smug grin.

[Ember]

Nephele blinked as her wrists were seized by K'sel. Why did she have to leave the story open in such a way? Her acting had obviously turned her into the female character in the story. She should have realized the brownrider would use her in some way eventually. It was unfortunate that there were so many people watching or she would have given him another taste of her fist. Instead she merely glared at him in silent warning. It even seemed to disuade him from doing something so foolish as kissing her, since he only got in real close to pretend to flick something off her face.

She froze entirely as their lips brushed together and her brain chose that moment to shut down. What the heck was that? Her expression darkened slightly as the pieces began to come together again. Surprise and fury were plainly visible on her face as she tried to make sense of why she was so out of sorts. She barely registered F'ur's voice, though Charming trilled pleasantly at the man as he approached his human.

Nephele was suddenly being kissed again. Geez, F'ur too? Oh gross...just how old was their weyrlingmaster? Not that he wasn't good looking but she wondered why he felt it necessary to kiss her as well. I'm assuming its for the the story, Nephelemine, Nuoth reminded her. Her dragon's reassuring voice helped to bring her back to the present just in time to notice Charming landing on her shoulder to give her cheek a lick. Even her firelizard wanted a piece of her today?

As she caught the end of F'ur's part and the fact that he'd pushed K'sel back into firing range again she smiled darkly. His peace was long gone. However, she really didn't need to be detained by the guards of the Hold for beating another Gatherer. "The girl, having been thoroughly assaulted by three different beings, was understandabley reluctant to give our hero a second chance. In fact, punching one or both of the brothers was looking awfully tempting," Nephele told the crowd. She reserved a slightly poisonous glare for both of the guys.

"The girl instead turned to our hero and informed him that he better enjoy the kiss, because it would be the last one she ever gave him." Nephele turned to K'sel and adopted her Benden mannerisms as she looped her arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss...only to stop a breath away from his mouth. The crowd would never know she hadn't actually kissed him, though she found herself actually wanting to. Damn him for confusing her! She released him after a moment to end the tale for their avid listeners. "The girl considered the two kisses worth a lifetime of dates with our hero and having fulfilled her promise left the scene with the intentions of seeing neither again." If only life could truly mimic the story. Nephele bowed to the crowd and left her partners on the stage.

[rii]

The votes have been tallied!

Winner: Nephele