M'try and Jiella like each other, it's established. And Vanissa fails (again) to see The Sketchbook.
RL Date: 11/18/09
IC Date: 4/2/21
Southern Bowl, Fort Weyr(#675RJLs$)
There is a little more grass in this section of the bowl than at the center, though this can be attributed to the lake that's not too far off and not to any improvement to the sandy soil. More weyrs can be seen high along the mountain walls to either side, though there are none in the massive earthworks that spill down the southernmost section of the volcanically created valley.
The sandy lake shore is further to the southwest, creating a vast half-crescent that contains the blue-green waters of the lake proper. More to the west would be the feeding grounds that contain the animals designated for being consumed by both dragons and humans alike. Off toward the distant northeast would be the weyrling barracks, the Weyrleader's complex, the hatching complex, living cavern, and infirmary.
The time between lessons and dinner, meant to be homework and studying and other such nobel pursuits, has become prime slacking time for Jiella - and the blonde seriously needs some, what with all the running and the hefting of bags and general forming into a fine upstanding member of the Weyr. Given she wasn't even an upstanding member of a Hold, it's a long way to go. She's sitting on a boulder, long legs stretched out before her and crossed at the ankle - and got some notes in her lap, but that's about her only nod to industry, because she's got her eyes closed, face turned to the late afternoon sun, loose hair blowing in the breeze. Very /nearly/ without a care in the world.
For all the laps and the throwing of bags-- he's so right there with Jiella on the suckiness of weyrlinghood right now-- M'try still might be one of the luckier weyrlings. He doesn't have to study. Ever. After a lifetime as a student, and a good one, he's even got the memorizing of drills and formations down to the point that, while half the barracks are stuck hitting the books, he's out for some fresh air and, by the looks of it, relaxation of his own. Sketchbook-- check; pencil-behind-ear-- check; on his way toward the garden-- check; suddenly distracted by Jiella's idleness-- "You ought to at least pretend, brownrider." Tsk.
For once Nissa isn't all cheerful and airy about life in the Weyr. No, she's sitting on the ground leaning against a curled and sleeping Liath with a book in her lap, lips moving soundlessly as she reads. Eyes are drooping with fatigue as she glances up at M'try's comment, then over to Jiella. A shrug follows that and it's back to the book, mind clear enough to concentrate now that her lifemate is sleeping.
Without even opening an eye, "Shouldn't you be picturing me naked or something instead of criticizing?" Jiella is /not/ a super-awesome student, shock and surprise, for all she's bright enough, so she's not about to let honour-roll over there ruin her moment - though M'try's last will cause her to blink a little. Not used to 'brownrider' yet. "What, worried I'll give you away or something?" The blonde spies Vanissa over on the ground, squinting momentarily before, "When'd you get there? Was I /asleep/?"
With one of his more shameless smiles in place, M'try's quick to counter; "I rather like the idea that you think that I'm not." Picturing Jiella naked probably occupies a goodly portion of his (and a fair few other boys') days, after all. A few steps further put him neatly in between a dozing blond and a studying one, and that grin deepens considerably while he looks between one and the other. "Quite the dichotomy, isn't it? She makes you look bad." And there's /just/ enough behind the second glance between Vanissa and Jiella to imply, carefully, that he might be talking about more than just the studying.
Naked or something. Jiella's words have Nissa's eyes lifting from her book. They expect studying when there's such riveting conversation going on? A baffled look for the comment passes from Jiella to M'try. Sketchbook is noted. Something remembered. Click. Nissa's eyes widen a tinge. "M'try. May I see your sketchbook please?" She's not waiting for an answer, but pushing herself up from the ground and headed his way with a purpose, shrugging in reply to Jiella, "Came out quiet-like. Been here awhile." The sniping between the pair is lost on her for the moment as she zeroes in on M'try with brows lifted inquiringly.
Though posed for attention as always - and though she'll stay there a moment longer just in case anybody is checking her out - Jiella seems to feel the need to pull herself to sitting for conversation, one leg bent, arm wrapped loosely around it. With a slight smirk for M'try, amused and in agreement, "Everyone makes me look bad. But you, and that's only when it comes to running or lifting." At Vanissa's baffled look and subsequent question, she arches light brows the other girl's way - and does feel the need to caution, though mildly, "Are you really sure you want to see it?" As for quiet-like, she merely nods, now interested to see where this goes.
The very word 'sketchbook' has M'try shifting it around behind his back, both hands on the spine of it so that it tucks neatly, surreptitiously against his hips, the open side tapping the small of his back. That, ladies, is a practiced gesture, out-of-sight. "If you'll give me a moment to go and get it, you most certainly may." The slide of his eyes over toward Jiella, though without comment, sure says a lot: if he had one of those bags they're always throwing around, he would absolutely bean her in the head with it right now. Because he fails to make her look bad? Because she's warning Nissa about the sketchbook? Both?!
Vanissa pauses to quirk a brow at Jiella, "Aw you don't look any worse than anyone else, Jiella. Yer prettier than he is-" A headtilt towards M'try over there. "And yer not still learnin' from baby books." The other girl's warning has her pausing, "Want to see it? Yep, I do. Since he said he was gonna draw me." Is that... an ominous tone in the normally-cheery ex-waystation gal's voice? She's advancing step by step towards M'try and it is certainly not out of sight out of mind for her! "That one'll do just fine for starters," she drawls casually.
Well?! Jiella looks back at M'try defiantly, with a little lift of her chin - he started it. Or something! Now that the sketchbook in question has disappeared however, she's doing her level best to pretend she's never seen it. Which is pretty good, really - 'vacant' comes to mind. With a grin for Vanissa, "That's sweet of you - and give yourself a break. We've all got our problems." The fact that the greenrider's not about to drop it - and is sounding perhaps a little pissed - is definitely a problem, and one that might have the blonde looking a little more apologetically towards her fellow brownrider. Oops?
Not to change the subject, but M'try echoes Jiella's sentiment in a roundabout way; "At least you're not running laps with coddled holders' daughters? I'm betting the baby books are somehow more riveting." Tap-tapping the book against the small of his back still, an ever-so-subtle back-step started toward Jiella (like she'd be inclined to save him), he summons a smile that looks utterly without guile while Vanissa continues her advance. "This one's not really for public consumption, my dear greenrider. It's more just idle scribbling. I'll go and get the better one, I really think you'll get more out of that one."
Problems. "Yeah, I seen that," Nissa replies to Jiella with a brief grin flashed her way. "Y'all don't cotton to each other so well." A mixture of amused bafflement over that one flickers across her face. Someone needs weyr-hold politics 101 badly, it seems. Her steps towards M'try halt momentarily, "Oh please. Don't tell me runnin' aside 'a Jiella bores ya." She rolls her eyes in such a way that leaves no doubt how he keeps himself entertained during said run. Her slow advance resumes, "Well that's peachy. Cos I ain't public." Double-meaning there? She takes a step to one side, neck craning to see behind him, "Consider it a private showing." As if he hasn't already done so, implied in both words and tone.
Brightly, "Or overly delicate former harpers? They tend to whine." Every time Jiella /might/ feel inclined to help M'try out either out of guilt or some sense of fraternity, he skillfully manages to find a way to make her feel /more/ inclined to see how long it'd take Vanissa to beat the crap out of him. But she has a boulder to climb up on, and if he really wants to be lame about it, he can hide behind her. Like /Jiella/ can take Nissa. Vanissa's observation brings a blink and a pause; with a shake of her head, bemused - and maybe attempting to put a detour into the proceedings - "Wait. You think we don't get along?" The greenrider's last, however, does get a short little laugh.
Whatever M'try might have said about the level of boredom associated with running alongside Jiella gets smartly clipped, as he's now starting to hope she might come to his rescue. Overly Delicate Former Harper, so very apt. Her question seems to have been his, though, as he actually stops for a moment with his head cocked, a gesture that flows right into the nod that echoes his fellow brownrider's query; Vanissa thinks they don't get along? In the meantime, there's a take-this fan of the book toward Jiella from behind his back, perhaps they can trick Nissa with some crafty sleight of hand! Or he can run faster without being thus burdened. "I really think," he begins calmly, "that you won't enjoy it as much as you think you might."
Vanissa turns to regard Jiella, pausing mid-step. "Uh. Well, I haven't actually seen any broken bones or blood yet." She smirks adding, "But there's no love lost between yas. Some of yas. At're and yeah, both of ya." This last bit added hastily, shrug following. M'try's fanning isn't really quite as subtle as he'd like to believe, nor Nissa so gullible. She saw that! "Enjoy isn't the word I'd pick neither-" Alas. Liath chooses that moment to awaken with a snort and her scrabbling to her feet distracts Nissa. The green isn't in a wait-and-see mood; she disappears into the weyrling barracks post-haste. "Shards! She has a colossal itch." Nissa trots after her with a look over her shoulder at M'try. "So sorry to miss your presentation. Will catch ya later." How much later? Who know, but she's not likely to forget. Thanks to that one little word, 'naked'.
Jiella just seems impressed M'try's able to keep his mouth shut with that kind of opening - and she might be doubtful about the whole now-you-see-it-now-you-don't plan, but you'd never be able to tell by her expression. That might be mostly because she's paying attention to Nissa, though - and she seems about to make another correction; "Well, actually..." But then there's Liath, and no real reason for it, and no real reason to take the sketchbook she's in the middle of making off with quietly. Putting it back into his hands, she waits till the pair are gone before, "She sounded like she knew! I didn't know it was like, something you weren't telling /anyone/."
Deadpan; "I love Liath." M'try waits until Vanissa's out of earshot to say this, until his sketchbook is back in his own keeping, tucked against his chest now with his arms crossed over it protectively, all the coiled, ready-to-boltness gone out of him promptly when the greenrider cuts and runs. Sagging with one hip against Jiella's perch, still facing toward the barracks lest the greenrider makes some sort of sudden return, he rolls his attention back on over to the remaining blond blandly. "So common sense isn't really your forte, I take it? Of course it's not something I tell people, and certainly not random girls."
Defensive, "She still /sounded/ like she knew something." Jiella's still squinting barracks-wards like she doesn't quite believe Vanissa didn't know something before just piecing it together right there, pretty brow furrowed. As relaxed as always - like she was in any danger - she gives M'try a look, narrow eyes narrowed further for 'common sense'. Dryly, "I wasn't taught the etiquette for this situation either. And Nissa's not some /random girl/ - though she is a girl who's been in more than one fight, granted." With widened eyes, then catch of her lower lip between teeth and a little shrug, "Sorry. I had your back? Didn't even think it'd bother her, honestly."
"Yes, but until we were all weyrlings together, she /was/ just some random girl, you see. Much like--" M'try opens his hand to indicate Jiella there, also some-random-girl until a couple of months ago. "But here's the etiquette for this situation. I? Draw pictures of naked people. You? Seem like the type of person who could handle that. Her? Not so much. Thus, /I/ told /you/ but not /her/. Assume, moving forward, that pretty much everyone else is in the 'her' category." And the wide eyes and caught lip do what they're presumably supposed to, leaving him with a deflating sigh. "Don't worry about it. I appreciate your 'having my back,' as you put it. I'll just keep hoping things keep coming up to distract her. I ought to start carrying around shiny-things, just in case."
Sighing heavily, put-upon for having something explained to her clearly, oh no; "Yes, yes. Okay. I understand. My apologies, as from what I know of her? I thought she might be in the 'me' category." Jiella shrugs at M'try again; who knew? "From now on, I pretend I know nothing. Promise." At least they both know she's good at that? With another lovely, brilliant smile for his sigh, "I'll see what I can do - maybe something'll come to me. But I wouldn't count on her forgetting - just try not to let her see you with it." She taps the sketchbook with a long finger. Like it's easy!
With undue fondness for her pretend-she-knows-nothing, M'try smiles indulgently and replies, "Playing to your strengths is always a good idea." The suggestion merits a light snort and he points out, "That's a bit like saying, 'just try not to let anyone see you with your right hand,' isn't it? Or, perhaps," with a glance at Jiella in particular, "your hair." Back to the Jiella vs. 'her' category, with an amused brightness behind once-again mellow green eyes-- "You seemed like you needed something to think about other than how difficult things were for you, or how loud Mohraith was being, and I thought 'I draw pictures of you without any clothes on' might do it. She's... I'm loathe to say 'innocent,' but I don't think it would have quite the same effect."
With another of her more clueless expressions, if only for the other weyrling's benefit - Jiella is quick to give M'try a little smirk; very nice. Helpfully, "You could play to yours? Let her hit you once, crumple and hope that pity wins out?" At the snort, she gives him a shrug - like she knows what it's like to have a skill - and considers the comparison before mournfully, "My jewelry." Tilting her head at the explanation, with an arch to light brows, she's surprised but not a little touched; "That was nice of you. And I know probably a little weird that it was nice so - thanks." She's another smile for that, small, though genuine before a laugh. "Innocent is not a good word... but I get what you mean. It's not going to cheer every girl up."
"She'd just take it away from me while I was on the ground, sobbing." Saying that makes M'try hug his arms a little tighter to his chest, squishing the sketchbook firmly to himself; mine! And before Jiella's gratitude can get too serious, he adds with a feigned glibness, "You're welcome. I was also a little afraid you might snap and hit me or start crying or something equally horrendous. So there was a measure of selfishness in there." Head tilted to indicate his acceptance of her last, he seems like he's about to collect himself and go on about his business, find some place to hole up and be pervy, when-- "She's wrong, though. I do like you. Or 'cotton to ya,' as she put it." Again with the mimicry; at least Vanissa's not here to hear her own drawl thrown back at her.
Realistically? "Probably. But it's not like I'd be any better off, until someone drags me off and makes me hit them." Jiella grimaces, giving a little shudder - to her, it does actually seem like a mildly horrifying prospect. With an entertained glance towards the sketchbook clutched so fiercely to M'try's chest, she agrees soberly, "Girls are known to do those things. I can at least tell you I try not to cry unless it's for profit." If it seems like he's about to take his leave, she'll at least find her long-abandoned notes, predictably a mess. Looking up, notes in hand, she regards the other brownrider for a moment before flashing another smile, perhaps a bit sharper for the mimicry. "I know. I like you too," she says, just that simply - nothing around it or behind it.
Hand in pocket, the other still firmly attached to the book attached to his chest, M'try turns that pocket inside-out, quite pleased to see a little puff of lint go sailing away on that fine spring breeze; that's just lucky poetry. "I'll keep that in mind," he says about her tears-for-profit. "And assume I'm safe." As things seem quite squared away, they like each other, no one got hit, no one got a peek at his pornography, he bobs off a nod and does, in fact, resume his path toward the gardens. "You look very pretty sitting there. Go back to it," are his parting words.
Jiella does just that - after watching M'try head off towards the gardens for a moment or two. After all, there's still some sun left, and - as her rather self-satisfied smile might indicate, she /knows/ she looks pretty. As for notes, oh well!
IC Date: 4/2/21
Southern Bowl, Fort Weyr(#675RJLs$)
There is a little more grass in this section of the bowl than at the center, though this can be attributed to the lake that's not too far off and not to any improvement to the sandy soil. More weyrs can be seen high along the mountain walls to either side, though there are none in the massive earthworks that spill down the southernmost section of the volcanically created valley.
The sandy lake shore is further to the southwest, creating a vast half-crescent that contains the blue-green waters of the lake proper. More to the west would be the feeding grounds that contain the animals designated for being consumed by both dragons and humans alike. Off toward the distant northeast would be the weyrling barracks, the Weyrleader's complex, the hatching complex, living cavern, and infirmary.
The time between lessons and dinner, meant to be homework and studying and other such nobel pursuits, has become prime slacking time for Jiella - and the blonde seriously needs some, what with all the running and the hefting of bags and general forming into a fine upstanding member of the Weyr. Given she wasn't even an upstanding member of a Hold, it's a long way to go. She's sitting on a boulder, long legs stretched out before her and crossed at the ankle - and got some notes in her lap, but that's about her only nod to industry, because she's got her eyes closed, face turned to the late afternoon sun, loose hair blowing in the breeze. Very /nearly/ without a care in the world.
For all the laps and the throwing of bags-- he's so right there with Jiella on the suckiness of weyrlinghood right now-- M'try still might be one of the luckier weyrlings. He doesn't have to study. Ever. After a lifetime as a student, and a good one, he's even got the memorizing of drills and formations down to the point that, while half the barracks are stuck hitting the books, he's out for some fresh air and, by the looks of it, relaxation of his own. Sketchbook-- check; pencil-behind-ear-- check; on his way toward the garden-- check; suddenly distracted by Jiella's idleness-- "You ought to at least pretend, brownrider." Tsk.
For once Nissa isn't all cheerful and airy about life in the Weyr. No, she's sitting on the ground leaning against a curled and sleeping Liath with a book in her lap, lips moving soundlessly as she reads. Eyes are drooping with fatigue as she glances up at M'try's comment, then over to Jiella. A shrug follows that and it's back to the book, mind clear enough to concentrate now that her lifemate is sleeping.
Without even opening an eye, "Shouldn't you be picturing me naked or something instead of criticizing?" Jiella is /not/ a super-awesome student, shock and surprise, for all she's bright enough, so she's not about to let honour-roll over there ruin her moment - though M'try's last will cause her to blink a little. Not used to 'brownrider' yet. "What, worried I'll give you away or something?" The blonde spies Vanissa over on the ground, squinting momentarily before, "When'd you get there? Was I /asleep/?"
With one of his more shameless smiles in place, M'try's quick to counter; "I rather like the idea that you think that I'm not." Picturing Jiella naked probably occupies a goodly portion of his (and a fair few other boys') days, after all. A few steps further put him neatly in between a dozing blond and a studying one, and that grin deepens considerably while he looks between one and the other. "Quite the dichotomy, isn't it? She makes you look bad." And there's /just/ enough behind the second glance between Vanissa and Jiella to imply, carefully, that he might be talking about more than just the studying.
Naked or something. Jiella's words have Nissa's eyes lifting from her book. They expect studying when there's such riveting conversation going on? A baffled look for the comment passes from Jiella to M'try. Sketchbook is noted. Something remembered. Click. Nissa's eyes widen a tinge. "M'try. May I see your sketchbook please?" She's not waiting for an answer, but pushing herself up from the ground and headed his way with a purpose, shrugging in reply to Jiella, "Came out quiet-like. Been here awhile." The sniping between the pair is lost on her for the moment as she zeroes in on M'try with brows lifted inquiringly.
Though posed for attention as always - and though she'll stay there a moment longer just in case anybody is checking her out - Jiella seems to feel the need to pull herself to sitting for conversation, one leg bent, arm wrapped loosely around it. With a slight smirk for M'try, amused and in agreement, "Everyone makes me look bad. But you, and that's only when it comes to running or lifting." At Vanissa's baffled look and subsequent question, she arches light brows the other girl's way - and does feel the need to caution, though mildly, "Are you really sure you want to see it?" As for quiet-like, she merely nods, now interested to see where this goes.
The very word 'sketchbook' has M'try shifting it around behind his back, both hands on the spine of it so that it tucks neatly, surreptitiously against his hips, the open side tapping the small of his back. That, ladies, is a practiced gesture, out-of-sight. "If you'll give me a moment to go and get it, you most certainly may." The slide of his eyes over toward Jiella, though without comment, sure says a lot: if he had one of those bags they're always throwing around, he would absolutely bean her in the head with it right now. Because he fails to make her look bad? Because she's warning Nissa about the sketchbook? Both?!
Vanissa pauses to quirk a brow at Jiella, "Aw you don't look any worse than anyone else, Jiella. Yer prettier than he is-" A headtilt towards M'try over there. "And yer not still learnin' from baby books." The other girl's warning has her pausing, "Want to see it? Yep, I do. Since he said he was gonna draw me." Is that... an ominous tone in the normally-cheery ex-waystation gal's voice? She's advancing step by step towards M'try and it is certainly not out of sight out of mind for her! "That one'll do just fine for starters," she drawls casually.
Well?! Jiella looks back at M'try defiantly, with a little lift of her chin - he started it. Or something! Now that the sketchbook in question has disappeared however, she's doing her level best to pretend she's never seen it. Which is pretty good, really - 'vacant' comes to mind. With a grin for Vanissa, "That's sweet of you - and give yourself a break. We've all got our problems." The fact that the greenrider's not about to drop it - and is sounding perhaps a little pissed - is definitely a problem, and one that might have the blonde looking a little more apologetically towards her fellow brownrider. Oops?
Not to change the subject, but M'try echoes Jiella's sentiment in a roundabout way; "At least you're not running laps with coddled holders' daughters? I'm betting the baby books are somehow more riveting." Tap-tapping the book against the small of his back still, an ever-so-subtle back-step started toward Jiella (like she'd be inclined to save him), he summons a smile that looks utterly without guile while Vanissa continues her advance. "This one's not really for public consumption, my dear greenrider. It's more just idle scribbling. I'll go and get the better one, I really think you'll get more out of that one."
Problems. "Yeah, I seen that," Nissa replies to Jiella with a brief grin flashed her way. "Y'all don't cotton to each other so well." A mixture of amused bafflement over that one flickers across her face. Someone needs weyr-hold politics 101 badly, it seems. Her steps towards M'try halt momentarily, "Oh please. Don't tell me runnin' aside 'a Jiella bores ya." She rolls her eyes in such a way that leaves no doubt how he keeps himself entertained during said run. Her slow advance resumes, "Well that's peachy. Cos I ain't public." Double-meaning there? She takes a step to one side, neck craning to see behind him, "Consider it a private showing." As if he hasn't already done so, implied in both words and tone.
Brightly, "Or overly delicate former harpers? They tend to whine." Every time Jiella /might/ feel inclined to help M'try out either out of guilt or some sense of fraternity, he skillfully manages to find a way to make her feel /more/ inclined to see how long it'd take Vanissa to beat the crap out of him. But she has a boulder to climb up on, and if he really wants to be lame about it, he can hide behind her. Like /Jiella/ can take Nissa. Vanissa's observation brings a blink and a pause; with a shake of her head, bemused - and maybe attempting to put a detour into the proceedings - "Wait. You think we don't get along?" The greenrider's last, however, does get a short little laugh.
Whatever M'try might have said about the level of boredom associated with running alongside Jiella gets smartly clipped, as he's now starting to hope she might come to his rescue. Overly Delicate Former Harper, so very apt. Her question seems to have been his, though, as he actually stops for a moment with his head cocked, a gesture that flows right into the nod that echoes his fellow brownrider's query; Vanissa thinks they don't get along? In the meantime, there's a take-this fan of the book toward Jiella from behind his back, perhaps they can trick Nissa with some crafty sleight of hand! Or he can run faster without being thus burdened. "I really think," he begins calmly, "that you won't enjoy it as much as you think you might."
Vanissa turns to regard Jiella, pausing mid-step. "Uh. Well, I haven't actually seen any broken bones or blood yet." She smirks adding, "But there's no love lost between yas. Some of yas. At're and yeah, both of ya." This last bit added hastily, shrug following. M'try's fanning isn't really quite as subtle as he'd like to believe, nor Nissa so gullible. She saw that! "Enjoy isn't the word I'd pick neither-" Alas. Liath chooses that moment to awaken with a snort and her scrabbling to her feet distracts Nissa. The green isn't in a wait-and-see mood; she disappears into the weyrling barracks post-haste. "Shards! She has a colossal itch." Nissa trots after her with a look over her shoulder at M'try. "So sorry to miss your presentation. Will catch ya later." How much later? Who know, but she's not likely to forget. Thanks to that one little word, 'naked'.
Jiella just seems impressed M'try's able to keep his mouth shut with that kind of opening - and she might be doubtful about the whole now-you-see-it-now-you-don't plan, but you'd never be able to tell by her expression. That might be mostly because she's paying attention to Nissa, though - and she seems about to make another correction; "Well, actually..." But then there's Liath, and no real reason for it, and no real reason to take the sketchbook she's in the middle of making off with quietly. Putting it back into his hands, she waits till the pair are gone before, "She sounded like she knew! I didn't know it was like, something you weren't telling /anyone/."
Deadpan; "I love Liath." M'try waits until Vanissa's out of earshot to say this, until his sketchbook is back in his own keeping, tucked against his chest now with his arms crossed over it protectively, all the coiled, ready-to-boltness gone out of him promptly when the greenrider cuts and runs. Sagging with one hip against Jiella's perch, still facing toward the barracks lest the greenrider makes some sort of sudden return, he rolls his attention back on over to the remaining blond blandly. "So common sense isn't really your forte, I take it? Of course it's not something I tell people, and certainly not random girls."
Defensive, "She still /sounded/ like she knew something." Jiella's still squinting barracks-wards like she doesn't quite believe Vanissa didn't know something before just piecing it together right there, pretty brow furrowed. As relaxed as always - like she was in any danger - she gives M'try a look, narrow eyes narrowed further for 'common sense'. Dryly, "I wasn't taught the etiquette for this situation either. And Nissa's not some /random girl/ - though she is a girl who's been in more than one fight, granted." With widened eyes, then catch of her lower lip between teeth and a little shrug, "Sorry. I had your back? Didn't even think it'd bother her, honestly."
"Yes, but until we were all weyrlings together, she /was/ just some random girl, you see. Much like--" M'try opens his hand to indicate Jiella there, also some-random-girl until a couple of months ago. "But here's the etiquette for this situation. I? Draw pictures of naked people. You? Seem like the type of person who could handle that. Her? Not so much. Thus, /I/ told /you/ but not /her/. Assume, moving forward, that pretty much everyone else is in the 'her' category." And the wide eyes and caught lip do what they're presumably supposed to, leaving him with a deflating sigh. "Don't worry about it. I appreciate your 'having my back,' as you put it. I'll just keep hoping things keep coming up to distract her. I ought to start carrying around shiny-things, just in case."
Sighing heavily, put-upon for having something explained to her clearly, oh no; "Yes, yes. Okay. I understand. My apologies, as from what I know of her? I thought she might be in the 'me' category." Jiella shrugs at M'try again; who knew? "From now on, I pretend I know nothing. Promise." At least they both know she's good at that? With another lovely, brilliant smile for his sigh, "I'll see what I can do - maybe something'll come to me. But I wouldn't count on her forgetting - just try not to let her see you with it." She taps the sketchbook with a long finger. Like it's easy!
With undue fondness for her pretend-she-knows-nothing, M'try smiles indulgently and replies, "Playing to your strengths is always a good idea." The suggestion merits a light snort and he points out, "That's a bit like saying, 'just try not to let anyone see you with your right hand,' isn't it? Or, perhaps," with a glance at Jiella in particular, "your hair." Back to the Jiella vs. 'her' category, with an amused brightness behind once-again mellow green eyes-- "You seemed like you needed something to think about other than how difficult things were for you, or how loud Mohraith was being, and I thought 'I draw pictures of you without any clothes on' might do it. She's... I'm loathe to say 'innocent,' but I don't think it would have quite the same effect."
With another of her more clueless expressions, if only for the other weyrling's benefit - Jiella is quick to give M'try a little smirk; very nice. Helpfully, "You could play to yours? Let her hit you once, crumple and hope that pity wins out?" At the snort, she gives him a shrug - like she knows what it's like to have a skill - and considers the comparison before mournfully, "My jewelry." Tilting her head at the explanation, with an arch to light brows, she's surprised but not a little touched; "That was nice of you. And I know probably a little weird that it was nice so - thanks." She's another smile for that, small, though genuine before a laugh. "Innocent is not a good word... but I get what you mean. It's not going to cheer every girl up."
"She'd just take it away from me while I was on the ground, sobbing." Saying that makes M'try hug his arms a little tighter to his chest, squishing the sketchbook firmly to himself; mine! And before Jiella's gratitude can get too serious, he adds with a feigned glibness, "You're welcome. I was also a little afraid you might snap and hit me or start crying or something equally horrendous. So there was a measure of selfishness in there." Head tilted to indicate his acceptance of her last, he seems like he's about to collect himself and go on about his business, find some place to hole up and be pervy, when-- "She's wrong, though. I do like you. Or 'cotton to ya,' as she put it." Again with the mimicry; at least Vanissa's not here to hear her own drawl thrown back at her.
Realistically? "Probably. But it's not like I'd be any better off, until someone drags me off and makes me hit them." Jiella grimaces, giving a little shudder - to her, it does actually seem like a mildly horrifying prospect. With an entertained glance towards the sketchbook clutched so fiercely to M'try's chest, she agrees soberly, "Girls are known to do those things. I can at least tell you I try not to cry unless it's for profit." If it seems like he's about to take his leave, she'll at least find her long-abandoned notes, predictably a mess. Looking up, notes in hand, she regards the other brownrider for a moment before flashing another smile, perhaps a bit sharper for the mimicry. "I know. I like you too," she says, just that simply - nothing around it or behind it.
Hand in pocket, the other still firmly attached to the book attached to his chest, M'try turns that pocket inside-out, quite pleased to see a little puff of lint go sailing away on that fine spring breeze; that's just lucky poetry. "I'll keep that in mind," he says about her tears-for-profit. "And assume I'm safe." As things seem quite squared away, they like each other, no one got hit, no one got a peek at his pornography, he bobs off a nod and does, in fact, resume his path toward the gardens. "You look very pretty sitting there. Go back to it," are his parting words.
Jiella does just that - after watching M'try head off towards the gardens for a moment or two. After all, there's still some sun left, and - as her rather self-satisfied smile might indicate, she /knows/ she looks pretty. As for notes, oh well!