Playing the game
Who: Winston and Phara with Bennath
Where: Bowl, Fort Weyr
When: Day 9, month 9
What: Winston spies a lady and cannot resist introducing himself to her.
Many thanks to Phara for Winston's first scene!
The blue that comes spiraling down from the bowl sky is as bright as the sky, and festooned with garlands just as bright as his hide in flowers purloined from somewhere much brighter and more cheerful than Fort Weyr. His rider is likewise wearing flowers, wreathed around her head. Her shirt is a emerald green shade over black pants, like a spirit straight out of spring. Phara slides to the ground, humming merrily, and gives Bennath a swat on the flank.
Stepping out of the infirmary comes someone who was last seen carrying a couple of large boxes in there. Once back in the bowl Winston flexes his arms and stretches up on his toes. Hands then smooth down his vest before he heads across the bowl. His steps are slow and he slows even more on occasion to watch this or that person make their way from one duty to another. When his eyes track across Phara and her blue he comes to a stop. Appreciative eyes look her over before a cocky grin forms on his lips and he heads her way.
Phara is deep in conversation, though you'd never know it except for the way her hands occasionally move to make her point or the way she or her lifemate huff or snort at something or other. Finally she shakes her head and grins, turning away from him. That's when she spots Winston and her eyebrows raise. "Hooboy, here comes trouble," she mutters to Bennath.
Winston's swaggering ways are hardly trouble! Coming to a stop close to Phara, but out of her and Bennath's personal space he's got another smile ready to share. "Looking lovely today," he says with a wink. "Just the thing I needed to see after a trip to the infirmary. Sick people can make a man sad and it's nice to see something fine enough to raise the spirits." He looks her over again before he turns his head to Bennath now. "And a fine looking gentleman we have here as well."
Phara can't resist flattery, especially the worst, obvious kind. So, she grins. "It's his Hatching Day, plenty to have high spirits over." Bennath rumbles, a little more suspicious than his rider. He inclines his head, however, politely. "I'm Phara, this is Bennath. Flint Wing. Don't think I know you?" Her eyebrow raises with her question.
"If you do not know me than something is very much wrong with the world today," Winston says with a low chuckle. "Winston, at your service, Phara. I work in the store room. Toting bales and loading barges, well, maybe not that. And you have, if I may say so, one of the finest blues I have had the pleasure of ever laying eyes on in my three turns here." One hand rests on a hip that gets cocked out ever so slightly. "A happy hatching day to you both. No wonder you look so fine. Although I cannot imagine you ever looking unfine."
Phara rolls her eyes good naturedly. "Well, we've only been at Fort a Turn now, so there's still quite a few people I don't know, particularly in the lower caverns." She glances at her dragon and laughs. "Well, don't say it in front of him, his head's big enough." She reaches up, brushing short strands of hair away from her forehead. "Thank you. Though there's plenty of times when I don't. Generally those times occur after hard labor and long drills, however."
The chance to look her over occurs and Winston takes it and runs with it. He lets his gaze roam over her before settling back on her face. "I cannot imagine you ever not looking fine, nope. Most women look plenty good when they've worked up a sweat." He winks and stops not quite leering to shift his gaze back to the blue. "Well, a fine figure of a dragon such as himself just has to expect such things." Why stop the charm at people is his obvious mantra. "I am rather disappointed in myself for not having spotted you earlier and made proper introductions. All this time I've been missing out on such a lovely sight up close. I simply must beg your forgiveness for that and you must promise in turn to come to me the next time you want something heavy carried about."
Phara's mouth trembles, like she doesn't know what to make of him. "Does this work for you?" she asks sincerely. "Laying it on like frosting?" Then she laughs, her whole self in it. "Oh shards. I can carry my own loads, so I can't promise you anything in that area. But if you want to take over my drills, I'll let you have that one, just as soon as you grow wings." Smirk.
"Work? What? I am wounded that you think I am working on anything." Winston looks less outraged and more amused. He gives her another broad wink as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Actually most women enjoy it," he answers. With a low chuckle he tells her, "What can I say? I like to tell a woman what I think? And here we have something in common nearly and all. It's your Bennath's hatching day and I had a turnday just last seven."
Phara grins a little impishly. "I think you're working me," she teases. "I'm not much of a woman, that may explain it." She nods thoughtfully and then her face brightens even more, if this were possible. "Your Turnday, is it? Well then!" Like lightning she reaches into her pocket, and then into another. She has pockets everywhere, on her pants, on her shirt. She finds what she's looking for and holds it out between thumb and forefinger. A piece of string the length of her forearm. Her other hand produces a wooden bead, carved like a shipfish. She slips the end of the string through, ties a knot in the ends, and then holds it out to him, looking proud of herself. "Happy Turnday!"
Winston's smile, never far away, blooms once more as he listens to the rider. "Oh, now, darlin', you are all kinds of woman." And it's an excuse to check her out again! Dark eyes spend a moment taking her in before he leans forward an inch or two to tell her in a lowered voice, "All woman to me there. Maybe someday we'll get to know each other better and I'll show you how I'd work you." Then he's straightening up and pleasant, if overly done, charm once more. "For me? That is excellent." He takes the bead on a string and brings it close for a careful examination. "Is this how you lure men?" he teases. "Gifts from pockets. Does it work?"
Phara isn't the kind of pretty one would expect. It's the life she puts into everything that makes her beautiful, and that's the sort of thing that shines out from the inside, rather than being readily apparent. But still, she blushes and says a little breathlessly, "I can see why that works for you." One eyebrow lifts and she shrugs, grinning easily. "You never know what you're going to need. And pockets do make useful things easier to carry." She sniffs. "I'd have given it to you regardless of who you are. I just like giving people stuff."
"I can't help the way I am," Winston admits with a shrug and a grin. "A man just has to be himself I think. And when a man is as great as I am there's little reason to hide it." Ego? What ego? He tucks the bead into a pocket, he doesn't have any at all compared to her. "Too many pockets ruin the line of your clothes you know." Now he tsks softly as he continues on. "Proper tailoring might make up for it, but it is still risky. Fine clothes have been ruined by pockets before. And now I am hurt. You should have said I am special and that's why I got it."
Phara laughs. "Gosh, you and Benny'd probably get on just fine with that ego," she teases. And then the corner of her mouth twitches uphappily. "Pockets are just about the most wonderful thing that ever happened to clothing, so.." She shrugs. "So, what, did you spend a misguided youth as a Weaver?" And then: "Oh, well, the shipfish was the special part. Try to pick things that seem to suit the folks I give them to."
Winston slides a hand into his pocket to run his fingers over the shipfish. "Now that's still not saying I am special. You need to be much more direct, darlin'." He pulls his hand from his pocket and gives his head a shake. "Your pockets are many and while I admit they seem to go against all fashion advice they do give a man the desire to see what's inside all of them for himself." Not that his hands make any move to try to do that, but he does allow his fingers to twitch where they rest against his thigh. "No weaver me. Just a simple man from a simple hold, but I've an aunt who's a weaver if that counts."
Phara's mouth strains in its struggle not to grin. "And did you want to be something special to me?" she inquires oh so softly. "Hmm, my pockets contain all sorts of wonders. But I'd wager you're more interested in what's down even deeper than my pockets, unless I miss my mark." She fingers a flower petal hanging down next to her ear thoughtfully. "Got three brothers who are miners, doesn't mean I know a whit about mining."
"It is my fondest desire to be something special to everyone I meet," Winston answers before a grin turns into a laugh and he must wait to settle down before speaking again. "Don't go putting words in my mouth now," he scolds with a shaking finger and a wink. "We've just met now so who knows what it is I want from you? I will say if you think I'm the kind of man who is not fond of a search then you are mistaken though now, Phara." Fingers twitch again when she moves the flower petal like maybe he'd considered doing the same thing. "Three brothers? Large hulking miners? Well, I'd best behave then!"
Phara just smirks and mutters under her breath, "Yeah, a strip search." And then louder, almost boastful, "Five brothers. One's a beastcrafter, the other's a bluerider at Ista. Very large, yes, all of them."
Winston takes a step back and lifts both his hands to clutch at his heart. "I heard that, young lady," he scolds her with a grin. "I assure you that there's plenty to be done without removing a single stitch of clothing. A shame you don't know that." Now his expression shifts and he looks overly sad. Faux wounded he seems to do well and it only gets worse when she mentions her five brothers. "Five? Well, I really shall have to be on my best behavior then. But tell me? You're out here talking to a stranger. When you should be celebrating?"
Phara grins, the tip of her tongue tracing her teeth. "Well, perhaps I'll let you teach me sometime," she says cheerfully. "I always love learning new games." She lets her hand fall to rest at her side again and chuckles. "Well, you needn't worry about them too much. They only beat up the boys who break my heart, and I haven't had occasion to call on them yet, so you're likely safe." Her head turns, "We are celebrating, can't you tell?"
"I shall definitely tip toe then around your heart," Winston promises as he holds up a hand and presses it against his heart. "Promise. Pinkie swear?" The grin is full back as he holds his hand out with all his fingers folded up but for the pinkie waiting for her own. "Well, then I am pleased to be with you as you celebrate! It is a pleasure and an honor to share this day, however briefly, with the both of you."
Phara chuckles wryly and shrugs. "Do what you want, I won't complain." She extends her hand to curl her pinkie around his, winking. "Hm, yes, brief indeed, I'm afraid. My wingmates are calling." An impish grin. "Poker game massing in the Leaking Cavern."
"A pleasure to meet you, Phara." Winston draws her name out before he turns to Bennath. "And a pleasure to meet you. I should get back to work anyway." With a jaunty wave he heads off for the lower caverns once more. Back to work!
Where: Bowl, Fort Weyr
When: Day 9, month 9
What: Winston spies a lady and cannot resist introducing himself to her.
Many thanks to Phara for Winston's first scene!
The blue that comes spiraling down from the bowl sky is as bright as the sky, and festooned with garlands just as bright as his hide in flowers purloined from somewhere much brighter and more cheerful than Fort Weyr. His rider is likewise wearing flowers, wreathed around her head. Her shirt is a emerald green shade over black pants, like a spirit straight out of spring. Phara slides to the ground, humming merrily, and gives Bennath a swat on the flank.
Stepping out of the infirmary comes someone who was last seen carrying a couple of large boxes in there. Once back in the bowl Winston flexes his arms and stretches up on his toes. Hands then smooth down his vest before he heads across the bowl. His steps are slow and he slows even more on occasion to watch this or that person make their way from one duty to another. When his eyes track across Phara and her blue he comes to a stop. Appreciative eyes look her over before a cocky grin forms on his lips and he heads her way.
Phara is deep in conversation, though you'd never know it except for the way her hands occasionally move to make her point or the way she or her lifemate huff or snort at something or other. Finally she shakes her head and grins, turning away from him. That's when she spots Winston and her eyebrows raise. "Hooboy, here comes trouble," she mutters to Bennath.
Winston's swaggering ways are hardly trouble! Coming to a stop close to Phara, but out of her and Bennath's personal space he's got another smile ready to share. "Looking lovely today," he says with a wink. "Just the thing I needed to see after a trip to the infirmary. Sick people can make a man sad and it's nice to see something fine enough to raise the spirits." He looks her over again before he turns his head to Bennath now. "And a fine looking gentleman we have here as well."
Phara can't resist flattery, especially the worst, obvious kind. So, she grins. "It's his Hatching Day, plenty to have high spirits over." Bennath rumbles, a little more suspicious than his rider. He inclines his head, however, politely. "I'm Phara, this is Bennath. Flint Wing. Don't think I know you?" Her eyebrow raises with her question.
"If you do not know me than something is very much wrong with the world today," Winston says with a low chuckle. "Winston, at your service, Phara. I work in the store room. Toting bales and loading barges, well, maybe not that. And you have, if I may say so, one of the finest blues I have had the pleasure of ever laying eyes on in my three turns here." One hand rests on a hip that gets cocked out ever so slightly. "A happy hatching day to you both. No wonder you look so fine. Although I cannot imagine you ever looking unfine."
Phara rolls her eyes good naturedly. "Well, we've only been at Fort a Turn now, so there's still quite a few people I don't know, particularly in the lower caverns." She glances at her dragon and laughs. "Well, don't say it in front of him, his head's big enough." She reaches up, brushing short strands of hair away from her forehead. "Thank you. Though there's plenty of times when I don't. Generally those times occur after hard labor and long drills, however."
The chance to look her over occurs and Winston takes it and runs with it. He lets his gaze roam over her before settling back on her face. "I cannot imagine you ever not looking fine, nope. Most women look plenty good when they've worked up a sweat." He winks and stops not quite leering to shift his gaze back to the blue. "Well, a fine figure of a dragon such as himself just has to expect such things." Why stop the charm at people is his obvious mantra. "I am rather disappointed in myself for not having spotted you earlier and made proper introductions. All this time I've been missing out on such a lovely sight up close. I simply must beg your forgiveness for that and you must promise in turn to come to me the next time you want something heavy carried about."
Phara's mouth trembles, like she doesn't know what to make of him. "Does this work for you?" she asks sincerely. "Laying it on like frosting?" Then she laughs, her whole self in it. "Oh shards. I can carry my own loads, so I can't promise you anything in that area. But if you want to take over my drills, I'll let you have that one, just as soon as you grow wings." Smirk.
"Work? What? I am wounded that you think I am working on anything." Winston looks less outraged and more amused. He gives her another broad wink as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Actually most women enjoy it," he answers. With a low chuckle he tells her, "What can I say? I like to tell a woman what I think? And here we have something in common nearly and all. It's your Bennath's hatching day and I had a turnday just last seven."
Phara grins a little impishly. "I think you're working me," she teases. "I'm not much of a woman, that may explain it." She nods thoughtfully and then her face brightens even more, if this were possible. "Your Turnday, is it? Well then!" Like lightning she reaches into her pocket, and then into another. She has pockets everywhere, on her pants, on her shirt. She finds what she's looking for and holds it out between thumb and forefinger. A piece of string the length of her forearm. Her other hand produces a wooden bead, carved like a shipfish. She slips the end of the string through, ties a knot in the ends, and then holds it out to him, looking proud of herself. "Happy Turnday!"
Winston's smile, never far away, blooms once more as he listens to the rider. "Oh, now, darlin', you are all kinds of woman." And it's an excuse to check her out again! Dark eyes spend a moment taking her in before he leans forward an inch or two to tell her in a lowered voice, "All woman to me there. Maybe someday we'll get to know each other better and I'll show you how I'd work you." Then he's straightening up and pleasant, if overly done, charm once more. "For me? That is excellent." He takes the bead on a string and brings it close for a careful examination. "Is this how you lure men?" he teases. "Gifts from pockets. Does it work?"
Phara isn't the kind of pretty one would expect. It's the life she puts into everything that makes her beautiful, and that's the sort of thing that shines out from the inside, rather than being readily apparent. But still, she blushes and says a little breathlessly, "I can see why that works for you." One eyebrow lifts and she shrugs, grinning easily. "You never know what you're going to need. And pockets do make useful things easier to carry." She sniffs. "I'd have given it to you regardless of who you are. I just like giving people stuff."
"I can't help the way I am," Winston admits with a shrug and a grin. "A man just has to be himself I think. And when a man is as great as I am there's little reason to hide it." Ego? What ego? He tucks the bead into a pocket, he doesn't have any at all compared to her. "Too many pockets ruin the line of your clothes you know." Now he tsks softly as he continues on. "Proper tailoring might make up for it, but it is still risky. Fine clothes have been ruined by pockets before. And now I am hurt. You should have said I am special and that's why I got it."
Phara laughs. "Gosh, you and Benny'd probably get on just fine with that ego," she teases. And then the corner of her mouth twitches uphappily. "Pockets are just about the most wonderful thing that ever happened to clothing, so.." She shrugs. "So, what, did you spend a misguided youth as a Weaver?" And then: "Oh, well, the shipfish was the special part. Try to pick things that seem to suit the folks I give them to."
Winston slides a hand into his pocket to run his fingers over the shipfish. "Now that's still not saying I am special. You need to be much more direct, darlin'." He pulls his hand from his pocket and gives his head a shake. "Your pockets are many and while I admit they seem to go against all fashion advice they do give a man the desire to see what's inside all of them for himself." Not that his hands make any move to try to do that, but he does allow his fingers to twitch where they rest against his thigh. "No weaver me. Just a simple man from a simple hold, but I've an aunt who's a weaver if that counts."
Phara's mouth strains in its struggle not to grin. "And did you want to be something special to me?" she inquires oh so softly. "Hmm, my pockets contain all sorts of wonders. But I'd wager you're more interested in what's down even deeper than my pockets, unless I miss my mark." She fingers a flower petal hanging down next to her ear thoughtfully. "Got three brothers who are miners, doesn't mean I know a whit about mining."
"It is my fondest desire to be something special to everyone I meet," Winston answers before a grin turns into a laugh and he must wait to settle down before speaking again. "Don't go putting words in my mouth now," he scolds with a shaking finger and a wink. "We've just met now so who knows what it is I want from you? I will say if you think I'm the kind of man who is not fond of a search then you are mistaken though now, Phara." Fingers twitch again when she moves the flower petal like maybe he'd considered doing the same thing. "Three brothers? Large hulking miners? Well, I'd best behave then!"
Phara just smirks and mutters under her breath, "Yeah, a strip search." And then louder, almost boastful, "Five brothers. One's a beastcrafter, the other's a bluerider at Ista. Very large, yes, all of them."
Winston takes a step back and lifts both his hands to clutch at his heart. "I heard that, young lady," he scolds her with a grin. "I assure you that there's plenty to be done without removing a single stitch of clothing. A shame you don't know that." Now his expression shifts and he looks overly sad. Faux wounded he seems to do well and it only gets worse when she mentions her five brothers. "Five? Well, I really shall have to be on my best behavior then. But tell me? You're out here talking to a stranger. When you should be celebrating?"
Phara grins, the tip of her tongue tracing her teeth. "Well, perhaps I'll let you teach me sometime," she says cheerfully. "I always love learning new games." She lets her hand fall to rest at her side again and chuckles. "Well, you needn't worry about them too much. They only beat up the boys who break my heart, and I haven't had occasion to call on them yet, so you're likely safe." Her head turns, "We are celebrating, can't you tell?"
"I shall definitely tip toe then around your heart," Winston promises as he holds up a hand and presses it against his heart. "Promise. Pinkie swear?" The grin is full back as he holds his hand out with all his fingers folded up but for the pinkie waiting for her own. "Well, then I am pleased to be with you as you celebrate! It is a pleasure and an honor to share this day, however briefly, with the both of you."
Phara chuckles wryly and shrugs. "Do what you want, I won't complain." She extends her hand to curl her pinkie around his, winking. "Hm, yes, brief indeed, I'm afraid. My wingmates are calling." An impish grin. "Poker game massing in the Leaking Cavern."
"A pleasure to meet you, Phara." Winston draws her name out before he turns to Bennath. "And a pleasure to meet you. I should get back to work anyway." With a jaunty wave he heads off for the lower caverns once more. Back to work!