Cake and other girly things
Who: W'ton and Rhodya
Where: Stores
When: Just after dinner on day 12, month 8, turn 19
What: Rhodya has a surprise waiting for her in stores. It's not a broken table. After apologies are done there is talk of cake and weyrs and what they wish for in the latter.
Just as dinner was breaking up one of the storeroom workers arrived in the living cavern looking for where the weyrlings were to be found. Jiminy's not been in the storeroom long which means he was not part of the crowd W'ton hung out with before. He's actually a fellow former candidate who decided not to return to his home hold and went to work in the stores. Upon finding Rhodya he nervously asked her to come with him to stores as there was a problem with the table she'd asked them to hold. There was a lot of nervous stuttering and he didn't seem sure what the problem was having been sent by one of the senior workers. And even if she pressed for details on the way he just didn't seem to have any. He could only offer guesses like it had gotten broken or something.
What a way to spoil Rhodya's first reunion with a friend! (To her, everyone who stood for that clutch is now a friend.) Her initial excitement on seeing Jiminy come back to hang out with his old crowd, as she assumed, gets flattened by the news that something happened to her table. When her first attempts to find out what went wrong are met with such nerves from Jiminy, though, she stops guessing and starts trying to reassure him. "I ain't mad," she tells him as he leads her into the stores. "I mean, I know it ain't nobody's fault. This is a big place with lots of stuff, you know something's gonna fall and break or get crashed into or - you know what? Doesn't matter." She claps a hand on the storeworker's shoulder. "Not gonna be a problem, Jim."
Despite her reassurances Jiminy's still nervous as all get out. He hates being the bearer of bad news. He hates bad news. "Maybe it's not anyone's fault, but the guys said you loved that table. I feel so bad if it's broke. Although maybe they can fix it?" He's ever hopeful when it can break through his melancholy state. Once in the room he peers around and gulps loudly as he looks around. "Now where did...well. Drat. I suppose they're back there waiting for you? Want me to show you where it's at or do you remember?"
Rhodya peers around, looking faintly puzzled. What was he expecting? "I remember," she says, though her memory may not be exact. She hovers there a moment, one finger held in the air like some kind of compass needle that's supposed to lead her back. She does set off in the correct direction though, after a pause. "Okay. I'll see you around, Jiminy. You come visit again for real sometime, okay? I've missed you." Shooting him a smile and a wave back over her shoulder, Rhodya sets off table-wards.
Jiminy smiles although with him it's always been just a little upward twitch of his lips that only calls to attention the fact his mustache refuses to ever grow in. Ah, well! "I'll see you around, Rhodya, sure," he promises and looks at her a little too long before he heads to the desk to look at inventory sheets. This time of night there's not a lot of activity in here. At least not with the clothes stores not restocked completely yet, but there's a little noise here and there. Even some that might be hinting at something naughty going on somewhere. When she reaches her beloved table the first thing she's likely to notice is that it is all right. The next is that someone seems to be using it. From somewhere a pair of matching chairs have been found. On the table there's a covered plate with a couple of white flowers on top of it. But no one's in sight. She must have a secret admirer!
As soon as she notices what's been done to her table, Rhodya stops dead. Her hand flies to her chest. Eyes darting around, she looks for some sign of her secret admirer, but finding none she begins to creep closer to the table. The more steps she takes towards it, the brighter the blush grows on her cheeks. "Blaise?" she asks nervously, and immediately regrets it. If she's wrong, whoever it really is might be upset! She bites her lower lip.
Now look what she did? Maybe there's someone out there crying in his sleeve because she thought what he did was someone else. The poor guy. Luckily for her there's a note propped against the covered plate. Just a piece of hide folded over once with her name written on it. And so far no one's come springing forth out of the shadows to surprise her with more flowers or kisses or even an explanation.
Noticing the note, Rhodya dashes forward to read it. Oh good! Maybe whoever did this isn't here at all, couldn't possibly have heard her guess, and has no idea at all! She picks the thing up with a breath of relief and opens it to read.
There is someone about, but it's a someone who knows how to keep himself hidden. At least until he needs to not be hidden. The note though! It's a simple thing and the handwriting is plain and masculine.
Rhodya,
You women like cake and flowers right? As an apology? I was going to get you some ribbons or something too, but they were all out of hot pink.
Once she's read the note there's the scraping of boots on stone behind her. Then a voice. "Girly things, yea?" in W'ton's easy charming voice.
Rhodya jumps, that hand on her chest giving it a pound to keep her heart going. Surprise can do that to a person! "W'ton!" She's been avoiding him since their argument. She eyes him warily even now, but that note speaks to his good intentions, so she doesn't run away. Or throw things. "Well, I wouldn't have said no to a cake," she answers feebly, tucking his note into a pocket.
"Well, look under the cover then," W'ton says with a grin. And indeed under the cover there's a mini cake of chocolate and raspberry sauce. Rich dark chocolate and heavy sweet sauce. "Found the chairs," gets pointed out as he moves closer now that it seems there's nothing likely to be thrown at his head. And he takes the seat across from the cake and flowers. "Now if you want to feed me a piece by way of apology yourself I wouldn't object." Winking he folds his arms across his chest and opens his mouth wide looking like a kid.
Rhodya uncovers the cake when he points it out to her, then looks up at his open mouth with her own wryly twisted. She considers for a moment, then gives him a gentle, slow-motion slap that makes no impact at all. "Don't think so, fella." She pulls out her chair and drops into it, folding her hands together and twisting them in a kind of nervous habit. "Thanks for the chairs," she comments after a beat. "Real comfy."
Fingers snap and W'ton looks overly sad. "A man has to try," he says woefully before slouching down in his seat. "Supposed to be cushions, but they were ruined. Gone moldy. Gonna need new ones, but they ain't so bad without I think. At least for sitting for this bit, yea?" The way he acts nothing bad ever happened ever between them. "So who'd you think I was?" Maybe he heard the name and maybe not.
"Somebody else," Rhodya answers vaguely, looking elsewhere. She starts to put her arm over the back of her chair, then changes her mind and goes for the cake. It needs to be cut! And served! She does just that, starting with a thin slice for W'ton and then another, equally thin slice for herself. It's a tiny cake, so it must be made to last. "They're pretty comfy without the cushions. I dunno, I kinda like them this way."
"Oh, no," W'ton says about the slice of cake for him. He grins at her with a wink. "It's for you. I don't need any." One hand drops so he can pat his stomach. "Have to watch myself. Cannot risk getting paunchy and losing the adoration of the ladies. I'd weep." Now his land lifts to rub at his eye like he's wiping away a tear. "Cushions are your call, of course. Already told them the chairs stay with the table if you want them."
"What, so you want /me/ to get paunchy?" Rhodya challenges, laughing. It's like nothing happened! Except not. A moment after, she gets a funny expression on her face, and her hand returns to her lap after it had just begun stretching out to claim his cake. She cuts off a piece of her own. "So, are we gonna talk or are we gonna joke?" she asks quietly, balancing that cake on her fork. "You seem - seem like you're in a better mood." And from that sentence, he gets to choose whether he launches 'talk' or 'joke' mode. Rhodya just eats her cake.
"I like a woman with meat on her bones," W'ton says easily with a laugh. While he doesn't leer with his eyes his voice does. Why not? As for talking or joking he shrugs his shoulders. "Got nothing to say, really. Unless I need to repeat my apologies out loud. It's done. It's over. And it was something else." One eyebrow raises as he looks at her. His words nearly match hers after all when he asked who it was. Doesn't look like anyone's going to be sharing secrets over this cake.
Rhodya leans back, throwing an arm over her stiff, chintzy chair. She looks perfectly at home in it, like she's already owned these chairs all her life. "Well, I got something to say. I ain't said sorry yet, and I am. Treated you somethin' horrible. And I embarrassed myself. So I'm sorry, and I'm glad whatever it is made you feel better, made you feel better." Whatever that 'something else' is, she doesn't pry into that.
Probably she'd be surprised if she knew what it was. But W'ton's just not going to share. What he does is wink at her again as he says, "Don't think the bruise has entirely faded if you want to kiss it better?" Hands move to the buttons on his shirt and play with one like he's going to undo it. Not that he actually would. Not with her. "And apology accepted, Rhodya. Suppose we were just doing what they keep saying we're to do right? Weyrlinghood all about making mistakes and learning. And stuff."
Rhodya rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Wish we'd hurry up and finish the makin' mistakes part. Between me and Gedroth, it feels like we ain't been right since we started." She balls up her napkin, though, to throw at him for that joke about kissing his bruise better. "I ain't that sorry," she mutters at him, with a bit of a crooked smile.
W'ton ducks when she throws the napkin and he cringes while saying, "Don't hurt me please. I'll be good." But then he's laughing and shaking his head. "I don't think you've done so bad, come on. At least you didn't puke your first time in the air, yea? Poor F'vel's still getting teased. Good news is that soon enough we'll be out of the barracks, yea?" Arms fold over his chest as he grins. "No offense to you or anyone, but I cannot wait to get my own space."
Rhodya laughs, and immediately gestures at her projectile. "Well, gimme my napkin back, I might need it. For cleaning my hands," she adds innocently, giving him her sweetest smile. See that halo? She stretches her arms along the edges of her flower table and caresses it affectionately. "Tell me about it. I've been so excited since talkin' to you about those weyrs, you just wouldn't believe. Kai was sayin' somethin' about the weyrs going out by lottery, though, so I ain't sure. I wanted to get a really tall one," she says, stretching her hands about as far apart as they can go to emphasis the tallness.
The napkin is picked up, folded, and handed back graciously to its original owner. W'ton then leans back again and stretches his legs out under the table careful to not kick any other feet under there. "Well, I imagine if we hate the weyr we get they'll let us switch. We can also surely switch with each other. I mean...they won't make us stay somewhere we hate." As for tall he grins and nods his head. "Yea. I'd like tall, but just because I like headspace. I'm more interested in wide. With that big ledge for entertaining. And up high. It needs to be pretty high up. Room for lots of furniture. I'm gonna fill the place up."
Rhodya forms a cup with her hand and takes a swipe at the imaginary wall. "I want to put divots in it. And handholds. I want to practice rock climbing in my own weyr. Not next to the breakfast table," she notes with a grin, patting said table. She finishes her first piece of cake, and steals W'ton's. "Tell you what. If I get a high and wide weyr, I'll trade you, and if you get a tall and long weyr, you trade me. Anybody else gets one we tackle 'em." Her grin flashes with mischief.
"Rock climbing in your own weyr?" W'ton asks like the idea is a little silly, but then he shrugs. To each their own. "I want to have parties. With lots of people. Fancy furniture. Heavy stuff. Paint the walls. If we can agree on a color." Eyes roll at this and then he's listening to her and nodding. "Oh, that sounds good. How about we have Gedroth sit on them until they agree to trade?"
He laughed at her idea about the table, too, but Rhodya knows what she wants. She smirks at his doubt. "No need to sit on 'em. I could just ask him to dip into their dragon's dreams again, make 'em dream about giving the weyr up or get some blackmail material on what they're dreaming about. Just don't tell Jantha." She wiggles a finger at him. "Gedroth's not supposed to do that again till we've graduated."
"Oh, I'd never tell on you," W'ton promises with a gleam in his eyes. "I might just remind you what you said though when /I/ want something from /you/." Blackmail! Although he's just teasing about it. "I suppose the truth of the matter is though that I'll just be happy to have my own place. I never really planned on it, but once the idea was there I just had to have it, you know? When I was in the dorms it was just how it was, but now? Now I want to be able to sleep naked above the covers or whatever." No, he doesn't apologize for that example because he doesn't seem to realize it may have been an inappropriate one. It's just the first thing one shouldn't do in tight quarters.
Rhodya wrinkles her nose at him, making her distaste for the example perfectly clear. "Think I'll keep to my pajamas," she tells him. "Perfectly comfy in that. Plus it ain't like you can close the door to your weyr, in case somebody decides to drop by before you wake up in the morning." She gets a dreamy-eyed look for that. "I wish we got to sleep in late, too. You probably wouldn't," she knows his schedule, damnable barracks putting them at such close quarters that it's impossible not to! "But that'd be total freedom for me. Wonder if there's any lazy wingleaders who don't start drills until noon."
W'ton's shrug comes as apology. As for unexpected guests, "Hey, people who wander into my space just have to accept they might see something they don't want to." Pausing he winks across the table at her as he adds, "Not that everyone wouldn't want to see that. But that was just a random example. I just mean...you know freedom." Uncrossing his arms he rests his hands on his legs. "Sorry, Rhodya. I do try to be quiet in the morning. I've always been an early riser." Maybe he had to sneak out of beds that didn't belong to him? "But I bet we can ask around about lazy wingleaders. But we will have restdays. Rest days...that will be nice."
Rhodya opens her mouth to add something to that sleeping naked discussion, but she closes it with nothing more than a grin. Let it die! "That's all right, I don't notice so much as F'vel does. I get to hear him complain, since bein' - since Gedroth's friends with Saulienth and all." She self-edited herself successfully, but she's not exactly subtle about it, her eyes darting up to the ceiling so she can avoid W'ton when she thinks of whatever it was she was /going/ to say. "Rest days'd be real nice. I'd like to take some of mine and go back to Igen, once we're free to between."
"You know I don't sleep naked," he tells her with a laugh. "But who knows. Maybe I'll take it up just in hopes you come by early." W'ton winks and stands up to stretch. "Between will be good. I've always wanted to visit Ista or Southern. I hear the women on the beach rarely wear much." With a dreamy smile he adds, "Maybe I can get Hattie to come and wear what the locals wear." Clearing his throat he grins. "Yea, yea, I know. Too far. Now I'm going to be rude and excuse myself because getting up early means getting to bed early. So I better get my clothes ready for tomorrow and everything. Enjoy the cake and soon enough you can invite me to tea in your new weyr on this hideous table and chairs."
"They ain't hideous!" Rhodya exclaims, stretching her arms out protectively over her table. She gives him a narrow-eyed glare, but there's a smile trembling behind it. "You just ain't man enough to take 'em. Better work on that." She straightens up, taking her plate full of cake with her, and slices herself off a bite while she watches him get up to leave. She salutes him with a tiny lift of her cake-laden fork. "All right, W'ton, see ya. And thanks." For stuff.
Where: Stores
When: Just after dinner on day 12, month 8, turn 19
What: Rhodya has a surprise waiting for her in stores. It's not a broken table. After apologies are done there is talk of cake and weyrs and what they wish for in the latter.
Just as dinner was breaking up one of the storeroom workers arrived in the living cavern looking for where the weyrlings were to be found. Jiminy's not been in the storeroom long which means he was not part of the crowd W'ton hung out with before. He's actually a fellow former candidate who decided not to return to his home hold and went to work in the stores. Upon finding Rhodya he nervously asked her to come with him to stores as there was a problem with the table she'd asked them to hold. There was a lot of nervous stuttering and he didn't seem sure what the problem was having been sent by one of the senior workers. And even if she pressed for details on the way he just didn't seem to have any. He could only offer guesses like it had gotten broken or something.
What a way to spoil Rhodya's first reunion with a friend! (To her, everyone who stood for that clutch is now a friend.) Her initial excitement on seeing Jiminy come back to hang out with his old crowd, as she assumed, gets flattened by the news that something happened to her table. When her first attempts to find out what went wrong are met with such nerves from Jiminy, though, she stops guessing and starts trying to reassure him. "I ain't mad," she tells him as he leads her into the stores. "I mean, I know it ain't nobody's fault. This is a big place with lots of stuff, you know something's gonna fall and break or get crashed into or - you know what? Doesn't matter." She claps a hand on the storeworker's shoulder. "Not gonna be a problem, Jim."
Despite her reassurances Jiminy's still nervous as all get out. He hates being the bearer of bad news. He hates bad news. "Maybe it's not anyone's fault, but the guys said you loved that table. I feel so bad if it's broke. Although maybe they can fix it?" He's ever hopeful when it can break through his melancholy state. Once in the room he peers around and gulps loudly as he looks around. "Now where did...well. Drat. I suppose they're back there waiting for you? Want me to show you where it's at or do you remember?"
Rhodya peers around, looking faintly puzzled. What was he expecting? "I remember," she says, though her memory may not be exact. She hovers there a moment, one finger held in the air like some kind of compass needle that's supposed to lead her back. She does set off in the correct direction though, after a pause. "Okay. I'll see you around, Jiminy. You come visit again for real sometime, okay? I've missed you." Shooting him a smile and a wave back over her shoulder, Rhodya sets off table-wards.
Jiminy smiles although with him it's always been just a little upward twitch of his lips that only calls to attention the fact his mustache refuses to ever grow in. Ah, well! "I'll see you around, Rhodya, sure," he promises and looks at her a little too long before he heads to the desk to look at inventory sheets. This time of night there's not a lot of activity in here. At least not with the clothes stores not restocked completely yet, but there's a little noise here and there. Even some that might be hinting at something naughty going on somewhere. When she reaches her beloved table the first thing she's likely to notice is that it is all right. The next is that someone seems to be using it. From somewhere a pair of matching chairs have been found. On the table there's a covered plate with a couple of white flowers on top of it. But no one's in sight. She must have a secret admirer!
As soon as she notices what's been done to her table, Rhodya stops dead. Her hand flies to her chest. Eyes darting around, she looks for some sign of her secret admirer, but finding none she begins to creep closer to the table. The more steps she takes towards it, the brighter the blush grows on her cheeks. "Blaise?" she asks nervously, and immediately regrets it. If she's wrong, whoever it really is might be upset! She bites her lower lip.
Now look what she did? Maybe there's someone out there crying in his sleeve because she thought what he did was someone else. The poor guy. Luckily for her there's a note propped against the covered plate. Just a piece of hide folded over once with her name written on it. And so far no one's come springing forth out of the shadows to surprise her with more flowers or kisses or even an explanation.
Noticing the note, Rhodya dashes forward to read it. Oh good! Maybe whoever did this isn't here at all, couldn't possibly have heard her guess, and has no idea at all! She picks the thing up with a breath of relief and opens it to read.
There is someone about, but it's a someone who knows how to keep himself hidden. At least until he needs to not be hidden. The note though! It's a simple thing and the handwriting is plain and masculine.
Rhodya,
You women like cake and flowers right? As an apology? I was going to get you some ribbons or something too, but they were all out of hot pink.
Once she's read the note there's the scraping of boots on stone behind her. Then a voice. "Girly things, yea?" in W'ton's easy charming voice.
Rhodya jumps, that hand on her chest giving it a pound to keep her heart going. Surprise can do that to a person! "W'ton!" She's been avoiding him since their argument. She eyes him warily even now, but that note speaks to his good intentions, so she doesn't run away. Or throw things. "Well, I wouldn't have said no to a cake," she answers feebly, tucking his note into a pocket.
"Well, look under the cover then," W'ton says with a grin. And indeed under the cover there's a mini cake of chocolate and raspberry sauce. Rich dark chocolate and heavy sweet sauce. "Found the chairs," gets pointed out as he moves closer now that it seems there's nothing likely to be thrown at his head. And he takes the seat across from the cake and flowers. "Now if you want to feed me a piece by way of apology yourself I wouldn't object." Winking he folds his arms across his chest and opens his mouth wide looking like a kid.
Rhodya uncovers the cake when he points it out to her, then looks up at his open mouth with her own wryly twisted. She considers for a moment, then gives him a gentle, slow-motion slap that makes no impact at all. "Don't think so, fella." She pulls out her chair and drops into it, folding her hands together and twisting them in a kind of nervous habit. "Thanks for the chairs," she comments after a beat. "Real comfy."
Fingers snap and W'ton looks overly sad. "A man has to try," he says woefully before slouching down in his seat. "Supposed to be cushions, but they were ruined. Gone moldy. Gonna need new ones, but they ain't so bad without I think. At least for sitting for this bit, yea?" The way he acts nothing bad ever happened ever between them. "So who'd you think I was?" Maybe he heard the name and maybe not.
"Somebody else," Rhodya answers vaguely, looking elsewhere. She starts to put her arm over the back of her chair, then changes her mind and goes for the cake. It needs to be cut! And served! She does just that, starting with a thin slice for W'ton and then another, equally thin slice for herself. It's a tiny cake, so it must be made to last. "They're pretty comfy without the cushions. I dunno, I kinda like them this way."
"Oh, no," W'ton says about the slice of cake for him. He grins at her with a wink. "It's for you. I don't need any." One hand drops so he can pat his stomach. "Have to watch myself. Cannot risk getting paunchy and losing the adoration of the ladies. I'd weep." Now his land lifts to rub at his eye like he's wiping away a tear. "Cushions are your call, of course. Already told them the chairs stay with the table if you want them."
"What, so you want /me/ to get paunchy?" Rhodya challenges, laughing. It's like nothing happened! Except not. A moment after, she gets a funny expression on her face, and her hand returns to her lap after it had just begun stretching out to claim his cake. She cuts off a piece of her own. "So, are we gonna talk or are we gonna joke?" she asks quietly, balancing that cake on her fork. "You seem - seem like you're in a better mood." And from that sentence, he gets to choose whether he launches 'talk' or 'joke' mode. Rhodya just eats her cake.
"I like a woman with meat on her bones," W'ton says easily with a laugh. While he doesn't leer with his eyes his voice does. Why not? As for talking or joking he shrugs his shoulders. "Got nothing to say, really. Unless I need to repeat my apologies out loud. It's done. It's over. And it was something else." One eyebrow raises as he looks at her. His words nearly match hers after all when he asked who it was. Doesn't look like anyone's going to be sharing secrets over this cake.
Rhodya leans back, throwing an arm over her stiff, chintzy chair. She looks perfectly at home in it, like she's already owned these chairs all her life. "Well, I got something to say. I ain't said sorry yet, and I am. Treated you somethin' horrible. And I embarrassed myself. So I'm sorry, and I'm glad whatever it is made you feel better, made you feel better." Whatever that 'something else' is, she doesn't pry into that.
Probably she'd be surprised if she knew what it was. But W'ton's just not going to share. What he does is wink at her again as he says, "Don't think the bruise has entirely faded if you want to kiss it better?" Hands move to the buttons on his shirt and play with one like he's going to undo it. Not that he actually would. Not with her. "And apology accepted, Rhodya. Suppose we were just doing what they keep saying we're to do right? Weyrlinghood all about making mistakes and learning. And stuff."
Rhodya rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Wish we'd hurry up and finish the makin' mistakes part. Between me and Gedroth, it feels like we ain't been right since we started." She balls up her napkin, though, to throw at him for that joke about kissing his bruise better. "I ain't that sorry," she mutters at him, with a bit of a crooked smile.
W'ton ducks when she throws the napkin and he cringes while saying, "Don't hurt me please. I'll be good." But then he's laughing and shaking his head. "I don't think you've done so bad, come on. At least you didn't puke your first time in the air, yea? Poor F'vel's still getting teased. Good news is that soon enough we'll be out of the barracks, yea?" Arms fold over his chest as he grins. "No offense to you or anyone, but I cannot wait to get my own space."
Rhodya laughs, and immediately gestures at her projectile. "Well, gimme my napkin back, I might need it. For cleaning my hands," she adds innocently, giving him her sweetest smile. See that halo? She stretches her arms along the edges of her flower table and caresses it affectionately. "Tell me about it. I've been so excited since talkin' to you about those weyrs, you just wouldn't believe. Kai was sayin' somethin' about the weyrs going out by lottery, though, so I ain't sure. I wanted to get a really tall one," she says, stretching her hands about as far apart as they can go to emphasis the tallness.
The napkin is picked up, folded, and handed back graciously to its original owner. W'ton then leans back again and stretches his legs out under the table careful to not kick any other feet under there. "Well, I imagine if we hate the weyr we get they'll let us switch. We can also surely switch with each other. I mean...they won't make us stay somewhere we hate." As for tall he grins and nods his head. "Yea. I'd like tall, but just because I like headspace. I'm more interested in wide. With that big ledge for entertaining. And up high. It needs to be pretty high up. Room for lots of furniture. I'm gonna fill the place up."
Rhodya forms a cup with her hand and takes a swipe at the imaginary wall. "I want to put divots in it. And handholds. I want to practice rock climbing in my own weyr. Not next to the breakfast table," she notes with a grin, patting said table. She finishes her first piece of cake, and steals W'ton's. "Tell you what. If I get a high and wide weyr, I'll trade you, and if you get a tall and long weyr, you trade me. Anybody else gets one we tackle 'em." Her grin flashes with mischief.
"Rock climbing in your own weyr?" W'ton asks like the idea is a little silly, but then he shrugs. To each their own. "I want to have parties. With lots of people. Fancy furniture. Heavy stuff. Paint the walls. If we can agree on a color." Eyes roll at this and then he's listening to her and nodding. "Oh, that sounds good. How about we have Gedroth sit on them until they agree to trade?"
He laughed at her idea about the table, too, but Rhodya knows what she wants. She smirks at his doubt. "No need to sit on 'em. I could just ask him to dip into their dragon's dreams again, make 'em dream about giving the weyr up or get some blackmail material on what they're dreaming about. Just don't tell Jantha." She wiggles a finger at him. "Gedroth's not supposed to do that again till we've graduated."
"Oh, I'd never tell on you," W'ton promises with a gleam in his eyes. "I might just remind you what you said though when /I/ want something from /you/." Blackmail! Although he's just teasing about it. "I suppose the truth of the matter is though that I'll just be happy to have my own place. I never really planned on it, but once the idea was there I just had to have it, you know? When I was in the dorms it was just how it was, but now? Now I want to be able to sleep naked above the covers or whatever." No, he doesn't apologize for that example because he doesn't seem to realize it may have been an inappropriate one. It's just the first thing one shouldn't do in tight quarters.
Rhodya wrinkles her nose at him, making her distaste for the example perfectly clear. "Think I'll keep to my pajamas," she tells him. "Perfectly comfy in that. Plus it ain't like you can close the door to your weyr, in case somebody decides to drop by before you wake up in the morning." She gets a dreamy-eyed look for that. "I wish we got to sleep in late, too. You probably wouldn't," she knows his schedule, damnable barracks putting them at such close quarters that it's impossible not to! "But that'd be total freedom for me. Wonder if there's any lazy wingleaders who don't start drills until noon."
W'ton's shrug comes as apology. As for unexpected guests, "Hey, people who wander into my space just have to accept they might see something they don't want to." Pausing he winks across the table at her as he adds, "Not that everyone wouldn't want to see that. But that was just a random example. I just mean...you know freedom." Uncrossing his arms he rests his hands on his legs. "Sorry, Rhodya. I do try to be quiet in the morning. I've always been an early riser." Maybe he had to sneak out of beds that didn't belong to him? "But I bet we can ask around about lazy wingleaders. But we will have restdays. Rest days...that will be nice."
Rhodya opens her mouth to add something to that sleeping naked discussion, but she closes it with nothing more than a grin. Let it die! "That's all right, I don't notice so much as F'vel does. I get to hear him complain, since bein' - since Gedroth's friends with Saulienth and all." She self-edited herself successfully, but she's not exactly subtle about it, her eyes darting up to the ceiling so she can avoid W'ton when she thinks of whatever it was she was /going/ to say. "Rest days'd be real nice. I'd like to take some of mine and go back to Igen, once we're free to between."
"You know I don't sleep naked," he tells her with a laugh. "But who knows. Maybe I'll take it up just in hopes you come by early." W'ton winks and stands up to stretch. "Between will be good. I've always wanted to visit Ista or Southern. I hear the women on the beach rarely wear much." With a dreamy smile he adds, "Maybe I can get Hattie to come and wear what the locals wear." Clearing his throat he grins. "Yea, yea, I know. Too far. Now I'm going to be rude and excuse myself because getting up early means getting to bed early. So I better get my clothes ready for tomorrow and everything. Enjoy the cake and soon enough you can invite me to tea in your new weyr on this hideous table and chairs."
"They ain't hideous!" Rhodya exclaims, stretching her arms out protectively over her table. She gives him a narrow-eyed glare, but there's a smile trembling behind it. "You just ain't man enough to take 'em. Better work on that." She straightens up, taking her plate full of cake with her, and slices herself off a bite while she watches him get up to leave. She salutes him with a tiny lift of her cake-laden fork. "All right, W'ton, see ya. And thanks." For stuff.