Breathe the Pressure [ Shii ]

[rii]

There were a few things Quintrell enjoyed about having Anzalorin as a roommate. He adored sprite's shy nature, Anzask was an excellent playing partner for a bit of rough housing, Anzalorin himself was pleasant company and had the oddest little quirk with clothes. The last of which Quintrell was currently enjoying most. He had borrowed a few of the items the blue wherhanlder had made. And this time he really did borrow them because the thief had intentions of returning the garments.. if he didn't lose or destroy them during his diurnal excursion.

Swish, swish. Quintrell stood idle on one of the bridges, swaying the skirt material between his hand and letting the wind do the rest. A doofy grin on his face as he imagined the sight he must make–the entire purpose to his eccentric behavior. Really, he had on a pair of shorts under the skirt so he didn't run the risk of flashing anyone; not that the behavior would be beyond the thief. He had also taken a blouse to wear, a frilly purple thing with billowing sleeves. Quintrell didn't bother trying to match (Anz would be so ashamed!) as the color of the skirt was red, but.. the more gaudy, the better. In a strange way it went with the numerous rings on his fingers, the multiple piercings in his ears and the few necklaces circling his neck. Quintrell was quite the character.

The brown wherhandler was out for trouble, as usual, but had yet to find an appropriate way to make a nuisance of himself. Being that it was daytime, Quintrell felt the desire to go and bug Raebali for a 'hypnotizing' lesson. Surely he'd get a few laughs out of her for his current garb. The thief kept the idea on the back burner for the time being. He wanted to cause a stir first, it had been a while since his last bought of mayhem. No need to drag Raebali into all that.

Huming cheerfully to himself, Quintrell did a little twirl and began skipping down the bridge. Troo-a-lo-a-lo-la. He paid no mind to the very strong disapproving vibes from Guru. The bronze salamandry currently attempted to hid in Quintrell's short, near white blonde hair. Multi-faceted eyes whirled with an alarmed yellow. He was so embarrassed of His. The hides the two leggers wore were of no concern to him, but when His insisted to him that what he was doing was wrong and that only girls wore such items.. well, Guru started hoping his would fall and hit his head.

Better no clothes.

"Don't be such a wet blanket," Quintrell grinned, an absolutely devilish expression on his boyish features. His dark eyes fell on their first victim. The thief quickly broke out in a run, throwing up his hand to hail the person. "Oh sir~! Oh siiir~!" He trotted toward the man, light on his feel all until the last moment when he oh-so-clumsily stepped on the hem of his new skirt and fell into the stranger. "Oof!" He pushing forward with enough force to take him down to the ground. An accident, honest.

[absinthe]

This particular day found Junaes wandering about outside. As usual his chores and lessons had been taken care of for the day and it seemed the rest was free time. He’d considered asking if there was anywhere he might be needed but the truth was that the candidate was feeling rather lazy at the moment. Maybe he’d return to the barracks for a nap. Yes, a short nap before the evening meal sounded like a good idea. He was just returning from a visit to the stable where he’d performed all his usual tasks before poking around down by the river. While the term ‘loner’ could be used to describe Junaes, it wasn’t totally accurate; he did enjoy the company of other people, but he was very independent. He knew how to keep himself occupied whether it involved work or just daydreaming… the latter of which he was doing now.

That might have explained the look of vague surprise and curiosity on his face when he heard what sounded like someone calling out to him. Blinking he looked in the direction of the bridge just in time to see someone rushing toward him. It looked like a woman just going by the clothes, and he had no reason to think otherwise when the person tripped and literally fell on him. If he’d been more prepared it was likely that Junaes could have caught the stranger and saved them a fall. But as it were he stumbled backwards and fell with the person on top of him, all the air rushing out of his lungs at once. Winded, it took him a few seconds to open his eyes and look up at his new acquaintance. “Are you all right?” Blinking, he realized there was something amiss.

There was something about the build of this stranger that didn’t sit well with him. To be honest, the lad’s first thought was disappointment at what flat chest this girl had. It was only then that he happened to look up at ‘her’ face and actually flinched upon realizing that it was no female who’d stumbled into him. Now Junaes was thoroughly confused; why for the love of little green dragons would a man dress himself in women’s clothes. If he hadn’t been concentrating so hard on trying to find a reasonable answer for this, he might have thought that Quintrell was… well, quite attractive anyway. But for once he was too distracted to notice. And a little weirded out. Was this a common practice among men at the Weyr? If so it was one he’d have to pass on.

“Er… why are you wearing women’s clothes?” Even as he asked, the lad was scootching backwards, trying to squirm out from under the rather odd person on top of him. He was quite frankly very puzzled by all this; but at least he wasn’t thinking about how bored he was anymore. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, however, he changed his mind. “Never mind. I don’t think I really want to know. Could you get off me please?” He was direct without being rude even though he was obviously a little uncomfortable with this whole scenario. This person was… touched in the head. That was it. The most logical explanation that Junaes could come up with right now. And he really had no desire to hang around with random crazies. Thanks anyway.

[rii]

Down they went, Quintrell's hands in and out of the man's pockets before they even fully settled against the ground. The thief on top, awkwardly more of lying on him due to the fact the long skirt made him unable to straddle his waist in a more stable position–one to leap up and run for it if the need came. There was nothing in the pockets, and Quintrell's lower lip came out in a pout. People were so boring. One of these days he'd find someone that carried around various knick-knacks as he himself did.

Oh. Oh! The fellow was asking if he was alright, wasn't he a gentleman. Quintrell put on his best, charming smile and flung his arms around the stranger's who currently seemed to be trying to worm away. He couldn't leave yet. Quintrell was bound and determined to take something, even if it ended up being the shirt off Juanes back. That belt around the other's waist however, yes, that would do. For now.

"I'm so sorry. Clumsy me!" Deft fingers undid the front of the belt, quickly hugging around Juanes waist and Quintrell distracted him with words, smiles, and basically his dramatic flair. Still 'hugging' the man that had saved him from crashing to the floor. He was a good little thief for a reason, even if his style came out more as a game. He could be sneaky and lift from pockets without raising a stink, but what fun would that be? That was when he needed to steal, right now.. it was all just an amusing pastime. "Yer a big lad, why didn't you catch me? Woulda saved a bit of this tanglin' trouble. Skirts are not easy ta get 'round in. I don't know how girls manage it.."

As Juanes worked to get himself away, Quintrell took that opportunity to slip the belt out of the loops–he seemed rather uncomfortable about the whole women's clothes thing. This served to kick up Quintrell's grin a notch. "They're so loooose and freeee, I just couldn't resist." They were just clothes, so Quintrell didn't see the problem. "Do you not liiike them?"

Rolling off the other, Quintrell slipped the belt around his own waist. Everything done in one quick motion and before he bounced up to his bare feet. What better place to hide something than in plain sight? Just like all the rings on Trel's fingers, all stolen from other hands. Oh how he loved to make them glint in the sunlight to draw attention. No one really noticed, which amused the thief to no end. One of those ringed hands dropped down in an extending offer to Juanes. "Stop lookin' so mortified. I coulda just as well been naked."

Though, that sparked a particular thought, the mischievous spark lighting up in Quintrell's dark brown eyes.

[absinthe]

Naturally, Junaes wasn’t even aware of the hands in and out of his pockets just that fast. He almost never carried anything in them of extreme importance anyway; if anything they usually contained lint and maybe an interesting stone or somesuch but today was not one of those days (well there might have been some lint). As for the belt the candidate was much too busy trying not to just flail and flop around like a dying fish as the blond’s arms actually went around his waist. What was he doing?! This person was obviously a few glows short of a full basket and even though he knew it was impossible to catch insanity from someone, Junaes just… wasn’t cool with having a random male in a skirt on top of him. Was someone playing a prank on him? Maybe it was a joke on candidates. It was a possibility but he had the feeling that it wasn’t what was going on.

The belt came off and Junaes didn’t even notice as he pushed and squirmed in an attempt to get out of Quintrell’s grasp. There was no doubt that he could have gotten the other off if Junaes had been willing to use force, but even as reluctant as he was about the wherling as a whole, he wasn’t willing to use force. It had to be a life or death situation before Junaes would even entertain the idea of punching someone in the face or poking them in the eye. As disturbing as all this was, it certainly wasn’t life-threatening and he doubted that it would become such.

Still, it was weird. He hadn’t had some random male in women’s clothing leap on him in… well, ever. So this was definitely a new experience for Junaes, and one he had no clue what to make of. At Quintrell’s question of why he didn’t just catch him, the candidate simply blinked. What? “Er… you… caught me off guard?” And it seemed that effect was still ongoing. The young man had no idea what to think of this character. But when the wherling stood and offered his hand it seemed that the confusion wore off a little as Junaes declined the hand offered to him and stood on his own. However he did notice all the rings on the other’s fingers; how could anyone not. Who had that many rings anyway? Well apparently this guy did.

The comment about just as well being naked drew a quirked eyebrow from Junaes and he almost agreed that might have been preferable. But the last thing he wanted was for this oddball to get the notion into his head to strip down. The situation had gone from puzzling to just awkward, at least for the candidate; what did he say to someone who had just fallen on him and stolen his belt (not that he’d realized yet the belt was missing) and was dressed in clothes designed for the opposite gender? What indeed? Supposing he could always just introduce himself, Junaes figured it never hurt to be polite. “Um… I’m Junaes, by the way. Nice to meet you… I guess.” No, he just wasn’t sure about this character at all.

[rii]

"Too manly to take a lady's offering hand?"

Honestly. It wasn't as if Junaes had any rings Quintrell could steal, so it had really been a polite gesture on the thief's part. Quintrell's brow was raised as he rocked back and forth on his heels. A restless one, him, always tapping or bouncing to an internal drumbeat. His dark eyes passed over Junaes. Hmph. At least the guy offered his name. That had to be a plus. Somewhere, somehow. Not that Quintrell really cared, likely he'd make a pest of himself either way. Just how Junaes treated him would decided how nasty he would be. Quintrell was sure a certain homicidal blueriding woman still wanted his head on a platter because he had been oh-so-kind to her.

People were so uptight.

"Quintrell. The pleasure is all mine, I assure you," His smile flashed as he seized the sides of the skirt and imitated a flourishing bow as if Junaes was his dance partner. In the next moment the thief had hopped forward, hooking his arm with the taller man's and firmly leading him across the bridge and toward the main hall. "Why duncha be a gent n' treat a lady to lunch."

Amiss?

Going crossed eyed, Quintrell tried to look up at his little mindmate. The salamandyr stood out horribly against his pale hair, a hide so obvioiusly bronze–and no one better mistake him for anything less. Guru did so love sarcasm, and his comment had been about Junaes' missing belt–a very sly touch to his one worded question. Yes, something did feel amiss, didn't it. Snarking little mandyr couldn't help but find it humorous. Oh, but not that funny. His mind-thing could be doing much better things, but this was sort of entertaining..

"That's Guru. Behold his great wisdom of the obvious," A smirk and a playful glance in Junaes' direction. "I did forget the shoes for this little outfit." The thief clicked his tongue, a dramatic shake of his head along soft sight of disappointment. "They didn't have any in my size."

[absinthe]

Almost. Almost; Junaes had to bite his tongue to keep from asking Quintrell if he was touched in the head. The answer was painfully obvious anyway so why bother asking? A lady’s hand indeed! “I’m sorry?” He was also confused. Very, very confused. He still hadn’t noticed his belt was missing, even as he reached down to tug his pants up after they’d slipped a bit. He was a bit taken aback by the bow but then again what hadn’t the other boy done that Junaes was taken aback by? He didn’t seem especially keen on having his arm taken either, and actually dug his heels in to keep from being dragged off. He didn’t want to go anywhere with this nutjob. But somehow (Quintrell must have been stronger than he looked) he got dragged along anyway and instead of doing a face-plant, he stumbled after.

Now Junaes liked for his clothes to fit properly; he didn’t own a pair of baggy pants or any overlarge shirts. However the pants he happened to have on were a bit on the loose side (as loose as the candidate allowed his pants to be) and required a belt. Therefore even as he was trying to think of a way to get out of this situation, he noticed that he had to reach down yet again to pull his pants up. “Hold on a minute.” He stopped short, bracing his feet so that he didn’t end up being dragged off again. Reaching down to tighten his belt, the young made a startling discovery: he wasn’t wearing one. But wait! He specifically remembered putting one on that morning when he got dressed. Puzzled was starting to not be a strong enough word for how Junaes was feeling.

He didn’t really expect to find it as he started looking around. The gesture was really just one of frustration and confusion. So when he spotted his belt around Quintrell’s waist it was like a double surprise. “Hey! That’s my belt!” The candidate pointed and took a step toward the wherling as if to remove the belt from the other’s waist himself. However he made no such move to do so, instead looking down at Quintrell thoughtfully. He’d never even FELT the thief take his belt. “How did you do that?” There was no anger or indignation in his voice, and the complete reluctance to even be around the blond had all but vanished. He had gone from a nutcase to an object of fascination and Junaes really wanted to know how he’d managed to steal his belt without the candidate realizing.

But he was distracted by the mention of the bronze ‘mandyr and this only served to increase his fascination. He’d only seen them from a distance till now, and hadn’t seen them at all before coming to the Weyr. So now Quintrell would probably be peppered with all kinds of questions about his… unique talents and about his little pet.

[rii]

It did not escape Quintrell's notice that Junaes had to keep a handle on his wasitband. The smile never wavered, already dazzling with inner amusement. It would only be a matter of time now before Junaes realized the missing belt. Also part of the game, seeing how long it took for people to notice. As the candidate came to a halt, Quintrell slipped away–purposely hopping out of arm's reach.

Pivoting around in a flare of red skirt, Quintrell planted hands on either side of his slender hips. The grin communicated the thief's withheld laughter, and his arrogance showed as he cocked his hip to one side, thumbs hooking in the stolen belt. The baffled expression on Junaes face was absolutely priceless, and Quintrell couldn't contain all of his laughter. A few muffled snickers escaped past his lips and his shoulders shook with the effort to restrain the rest.

"Hey! Keep yer meaty paws to yerself." The thief warned. Leaning forward, one hand remained firmly on hip while the other raised to jab index finger into the chest of the advancing candidate. The single finger turned into a full palm and Quintrell pushed the other back. How unlady-like! At the same time Quintrell bounced another step back–ready to spring away at any given moment.

Instead, as Junaes gave him the peculiar stare, Quintrell squinted at the candidate with a touch of interest. "This belt?" He queried musically, lifting arms above his head and twirling his hips around to hoola-hoop the belt–too big for his own waist really, and when it settled back around his frame it laid across his pelvis at a sharp angle. "How strange. When did that get there?"

Hint, hint.

Quintrell winked, then twirled back around and began making his way toward the Main Hall without Junaes in tow. Grinning over his shoulder, Trell raised his hand to waggle his fingers at the candidate in a parting wave. "Ta-ta."

[absinthe]

And what could Junaes do but watch the blond’s antics with a quirked eyebrow. It seemed that once he made up his mind, nothing the thief did really fazed him anymore. The candidate had stopped at the finger in his chest, although the push didn’t affect him much; he went back maybe half a step before folding his arms and waiting for Quintrell to finish... whatever it was he was doing. Taunting him, apparently. But instead of either giving back the belt that he’d stolen or making any attempt to actually… explain exactly how he did it, the shorter boy just turned and started walking away. Eyebrows lifted as Junaes automatically started walking after him. He wouldn’t get away quite that easily.

“I would really like to have my belt back, if you would be so kind.” It was hard to tell whether the candidate was being serious with his words or if it was his attempt at being droll. A kind thief, really? But one thing was clear and that was that Quintrell wouldn’t be rid of Junaes so easily. The taller lad’s long legs quickly caught up and kept pace with the other. As they walked, Junaes folded his arms behind his back and frowned thoughtfully. He was trying to remember what if anything he’d felt. Surely he had to have felt /something/ while this… Quintrell was stealing his belt. But all the candidate could remember was having the other flop onto him and just generally act strange. Which had been meant as a diversion, obviously. Now that he knew this particular individual was a thief (and apparently a good one at that) Junaes made a mental note to keep a close eye on him whenever he was around.

“And I meant it, I want to know how you did that. And while we’re at it, I’m curious about your salamandyr.” And he was; the wherling might be sorry he picked someone with such an inquisitive nature to steal from by the time Junaes was finished with him. The candidate had every intention of pestering the smaller male with all the questions that came to mind about everything having to do with stealing and salamandyrs… and maybe a few other things too, if they occurred to him to ask. The best way to learn things was to ask questions, right? Especially of the people who knew about said things. If he thought that Quintrell might get annoyed with him following then it didn’t even occur to Junaes to care. Idly he wondered if they were still going to lunch, and the thought of food was greeted with a very audible gurgle from his stomach.

[rii]

"I bet ye'd like that."

Quintrell's brow rose at the implied request directed toward him. His dark eyes shifted side-long to examine the tall candidate. Junaes had not asked, just expected to have the belt returned because he'd like that oh-so-much. Tough cookies. Quintrell didn't do things because people expected him to behave a certain way. Having lived the life of a vagabond, the thief didn't abide to authoritative figures nor anything he perceived as a demand (even if a polite one). Made a point to be difficult with such things. Juanes was plum out of luck.

Emitting a disdainful snort, Quintrell increased his pace. "I unbuckled it n'took it. Ain't that hard ta figure out, ya'know. N'I toldja, his name is Guru. He's a salamandyr, wot more is thar ta know?" The accent came out thick, surely a sign of something. A curious drawl of a dozen different locations. Purposely being literal, because Junaes had not asked anything specific. One vague question and just a comment of being curious about his bronze mindmate. Quintrell normally was loquacious, but the way Junaes had tried to spur him in talking had rubbed him the wrong way.

Oh /really/. Guru spoke to all in a tone that came out dry with sarcasm. Interesting that he managed it, as most of the other little ones didn't. He had come that way at hatching, so Quintrell couldn't take credit for it. His short limbed body swayed slightly as they moved, but his attention was intently on Junaes. Want to know much obvious. Smart, you.

Putting on a jovial smile, Quintrell skipped ahead–yes, literally skipped–and opened the door that lead into the dining hall. He stepped aside, holding it open for Juneas to go in first. "I would say ladies first, but ye haven't been much of a the gentlemanly type."

[absinthe]

Well, in all honesty, the belt really wasn’t that important to Junaes. At least not when he had another one back in the barracks. And belts could be made from anything really; a piece of cord or leather tied through the loops of his pants, while not exactly the neatest of methods, worked just as well as an actual belt did. So the belt was hardly worth fighting over in the candidate’s opinion and he was perfectly willing to let it go. But—what was that? Glancing around, it took a few seconds for him to realize that it was the salamandyr talking. Huh. He hadn’t known they could talk. Apparently he either hadn’t heard any speak since his arrival or he just hadn’t been around any until now… or maybe he had heard them but never realized what it was.

Either way he didn’t seem to actually hear what Guru was saying, too busy marveling at the fact that the ‘mandyr had spoken at all. But he was distracted easily enough by Quintrell’s own words which only earned the quirk of an eyebrow in return. “I meant, how did you manage to get it off without pulling the loops or tightening it and how’d you do it so fast?” Was he going to have to be word-for-word on everything? Maybe this wasn’t really worth the effort but he ambled along anyway, just watching as the blond actually skipped ahead and pulled the door open. “Maybe I’d feel bad if you were actually female.” Apparently Guru wasn’t the only one who could pull a dry tone and Junaes kept walking right into the dining hall. It occurred to him that if there was ever a next time he might want to make the thief go first just in case he decided to try and snatch something else.

But for now Junaes was confident there was nothing on his person that was readily… stealable. He had the shirt on his back and his pants, neither of which would be so easily filched. Of course he’d have said the same of his belt half an hour ago, but… yeah. The candidate didn’t even wait for the smaller lad, instead making a beeline for the stewpot. At this point he didn’t really care what he ate as long as it didn’t taste bad and was filling. His stomach rumbled in agreement as he grabbed a bowl of stew and headed off for one of the vacant tables. Quintrell could come if he wanted to, but for now all of his attention was focused on the bowl of stew in his hands.

[rii]

Quintrell bowed Junaes through the door, amused that the lad just kept tromping on ahead as if his stomach had taken the reins. The thief began to shut the door, intent on turning and skipping off to cause new mayhem. Yet a hunger pang from Guru prompted him to give a soft, resigning sigh and slip in after the candidate. Snagging a bowl of chopped meat specifically cut for salamandyrs, Quintrell hopped over to the table. Not sitting down next to Junaes, but climbing right up onto the table top before lounging across it while on his side.

He propped his head up on elbow, facing Junaes, and watched as Guru eagerly climb into the bowl to feed. "If ya think I'm gonna freely give you any sort of information regardin' how ta do anything, ye'd be sorely mistaken. No one told me. Learn by doin'. It's the only way to know how." Quintrell had the luxury of trying out new things on family members for most of his life, until the separation at least.

Quintrell rolled back slightly, letting his eyes take a quick gander around the room. Sadly no female patrons to entertain him, so he was stuck with Junaes. He would be Junaes female company. Quintrell snickered to himself before sitting up to strip off the shirt, tossing it carelessly over his shoulder before turning his attention to the skirt. The clothing had worn it's use out, seeing as it no longer earned a baffled gaze from the candidate.

"So," He threw the long skirt at Junaes and his stew. Now just in the pair of shorts and numerous pieces of jewelry. "If you want it back, you have to take it."

[absinthe]

Luckily his stomach’s urgent ‘feed me’ noises kept Junaes from noticing any more of Quintrell’s rather odd behavior. The candidate likely wouldn’t have even noticed if the other male HAD shut the door behind him and wandered off. In fact it wasn’t until the clothes were suddenly flung at him that he even noticed the wherling. Flailing at the skirt and blouse (he didn’t want that in his stew! Get away!) the candidate flung the garments on the floor before giving the blond a look. You don’t throw clothes at another person’s food… you just don’t! Instead of saying anything about it though, Junaes went back to eating and, by all appearances, ignoring Quintrell. The stew was more interesting at the moment.

But his interest went from the stew to the person who’d just walked into the dining hall. Only because somehow as she was making an entrance, something threw Amelie off. The young girl appeared to trip and fell right on her face. Splat. Junaes was up in a heartbeat but before he could go over and pick her up she’d already scrambled to her feet, gave a little nervous laugh at herself and wandered over to their table looking rather embarrassed. “You guys didn’t see that did you?”

“Yeah. Are you all right?”

“Um. Pretty embarrassed but otherwise unharmed.” The apprentice healer then glanced from Junaes to Quintrell and smiled at the wherling before offering one of her small hands. “Hi. I’m Amelie. I’m not usually that clumsy, but… I don’t know what happened. I guess I just have two left feet today or something. Do you mind if I sit with you?” It might have sounded like a cover-up but it was true; well, partly anyway. Put a bunch of numbweed jars in the girl’s hands and she wouldn’t stumble once. Anywhere else though and Amelie tended to be just a bit of a klutz. Nothing major, she just wasn’t very graceful. Her excuse was that she was still growing. Junaes merely shook his head at her request to sit.

“No, go ahead.” With that, he went right back to his stew. It couldn’t be allowed to get cold. Obviously curious, Amelie sat beside Quintrell and smiled at him.

“So… why aren’t you wearing any clothes?” Straightforward was the little healer-in-training, not beating around the bush at all. Then again, she looked as if she were about to start laughing. Clearly the girl was expecting this story to be interesting, if not amusing. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone sitting almost naked at a table in a dining hall before. Plenty of nearly naked (and naked) people sitting on an infirmary cot, but not at a dining hall table.

[rii]

Quintrell childishly stuck his tongue out at Junaes's look. The thief was likely to start flicking the small chunks of meat at the candidate if not for Guru currently stuffing his mouth. His attention too swiveled to the door as the girl entered–young looking, but age never stopped Quintrell's flirtatious nature. A charming smile crossed his features, and he sat up, swinging his bare feet down to rest on the bench between Junaes and Amelie.

He didn't shake her offered hand, instead curling his hand around her fingers gently turning the digit so he could plant a brief kiss on top of her hand. "I'm Quintrell. I take it that ya already know our grumpy friend 'ere." His head jerked toward Junaes, but otherwise the thief paid him no heed.

A single shoulder shrugged as he released her hand, letting his own fingertips slip slowly from the contact. Obviously at ease with his state of dress, Quintrell leaned back onto his palms and look down at his own torso. A narrow youth, slender with the subtle muscles of a playful cat. His life of traveling and stealing kept him in top shape–not a body for brute strength and lifting items, one made for movement. "It's hot out."

Besides, he still had the shorts on, that counted toward the requirements of decency. The thief coiled back forward, folding arms over his knees as he neared Amelie. His voice dropped to a sly staged whisper. "Junaes had a problem with me not wearin' clothes. He tried ta dress me, ya know, but in women's clothing." He flicked his ringed hand toward the discard blouse and skirt. "Either he's got a strange sense of humor, or peculiar tastes."

He winked at the young girl, "If you know what I mean."

[absinthe]

[[It's not very good, but here it is anyway.]]


It wasn’t hard to see that Amelie found Quintrell… interesting, if not likeable. There was nothing wrong with Junaes, either; he was just a little less outgoing it seemed, and didn’t have the peculiar sense of humor that the wherling appeared to have. She grinned at the nearly naked male as he actually kissed her hand as one might a Lady Holder’s… but she didn’t mind in the least. The apprentice healer glanced over at Junaes when he was indicated with a jerk of the other boy’s head. Amelie smiled back at Quintrell. “He’s quite nice, I think; he took me to the firelizard hatching, where I got a feline cub. He’s so cute, but he gets into everything.” That seemed to remind her of something and she turned back to Junaes, who was still stuffing his face and quite happy to let the two of them talk. He’d managed to get a roll from somewhere.

“Hey, how’s your little blue? Did you name him yet?” The candidate in question glanced up at the girl and swallowed before answering.

“Creampuff.” The name made Amelie laugh out loud. “He’s growing; if he’s not sleeping then he’s usually off visiting his twin. They’re pretty much inseparable. What about you? Did you name the cub yet?” Amelie shook her head.

“No, nothing good’s come to me yet.” She then looked to Quintrell, just in time to hear his comment about the clothes… that actually got the candidate to stop in mid-bite and cast an odd look at the other lad. It was really the look that did it, and Amelie burst into laughter even as Junaes put down the spoon and glanced at the skirt and the blouse.

“I’ll have you know, he’s the one who tackled me wearing that getup” came the calm reply before taking that postponed bite of stew. All Amelie could do was chortle in response before giggling.

“That’s so funny!”

Junaes glanced at her but kept his mouth closed. Maybe it was funny to someone who wasn’t a bisexual homophobe. The poor boy was confused enough as it was, he didn’t really need any straight guys in women’s clothing tackling him to add to his confusion. But such was life at the Weyr, apparently.

[rii]

"Yeah, he's a big sweetheart." Quintrell mused quietly. He watched as Amelie's head swiveled too much like a bobble and her attention shifted to Junaes. The thief slipped down to sit on the bench in between healer and candidate as they spoke. He didn't mind, really. Some people were just socially proper like that, including all present company into the conversation – despite how drab and uninteresting their contributions may be.

The thief blinked innocently at the look Junaes gave him. Sparing the tall lad that single look before his attention moved right back onto the laughing Amelie. Indeed it was Junaes's look that did it, telling too much of the story – spurring the thief to needle further. The teasing curve to his smile said it all. "I dun think he gets out much, sweetie. You shoulda seen 'im. Stammered like a right fool and with a blush that coulda put a redfruit ta shame. Ye'd think a strong, nice lad like him would be use ta gettin' propositioned."

He shot a flirtatious wink in Junaes's direction. The show, however, was all for Amelie, and the thief was quick to turn the conversation back to her – not waiting for any reaction from the other male. "But you, my dear," He smiled while playfully pulling on one of her dark curls, letting the dark hair run smoothly out from between his fingers. "Are the bell of the ball. I'm sure yer not oppose to getting approached by strangers. Are you new 'round here?"

Twisting around, Quintrell plucked Guru out of the bowl of meat and held the small bronze creature out toward the young girl. A brief knowing– taunting– look spared to Junaes during the move. The salamandyr squirmed wondering what his mind-thing thought he was doing offering him to a stranger! "This is the very wise, Guru." Since the topic of pets had been discussed, couldn't leave out his arrogant bronze. "Ya say you have a nameless kit? Maye I can help you with namin' .. a he did ya say?"