Caitlyn wears a bikini and wants to fight N'thei.
RL Date: 4/24/08
IC Date: 2/21/16
Pool and Garden -- Ista Weyr
The ocean glimmers a deep golden-red with the light of the setting sun. The black, massive stone of Ista Weyr looms to the east, and that matte stone seems to absorb the glory of the sunset spread out in panoramic glory to your west. A circle of stones line the crystal-clear pool, fed by a rushing stream from the distant black Weyr walls. The air is scented with the ocean and with the flowers and fruit trees planted here in orderly rows. A small flagstone path meanders past a low stone fence and out back to the plateau.
The dry winter season relieves Ista Island of its humidity, replacing it with light, buoyant air. Today, there is a light, sprinkling rain and a nice, light breeze carries the scent of sea air.
The plateau lies to the east and stairs twist down the cliffside to the waterfall pool below.
The bubbling rush of the waterfall into its pool, the playfull chittering of firelizards, the plants - all lends to the relaxing atmosphere of this frequented place. Within the huge pool, a blue dragon and his bikini-clad rider frolic - the woman standing on one outstretched wing to scrub with a stiff-bristled brush at his dappled hide.
Along with his copy of the most recent set of notes, unattributed: one boot, unwearable, his. And five pairs of dirty socks.
N'thei tugs angrily, it seems, at the collar of his undershirt. His coat thrown over one arm, his vest opened, his sleeves rolled up hastily, he looks precisely as he is: A 'Reaches rider come to the tropics and learned quickly that Ista's winter is not the same as High Reaches. Whatever lures him here, the splash of water, the waving frond of some pretty greenery, it also sets him sweating as he rounds the bend in the path, stops on sight of bathing. Or probably on sight of bikini.
An'dren isn't relaxed. If anything, he's frustrated, expression equal parts annoyance and resigned affection as he watches Riuth stalk towards the pool. "...Gonna blame it all on you," he's saying, but the bronze clearly isn't taking him seriously; he just snorts, amused, before coming to a halt by the pool's edge to trumpet up at Kintryth. There's a wiggle and a shimmy, and Riuth is already halfway into the water before he thinks to look at the blue, judging his reaction. And Andy? He sidles off to the side, giving N'thei a wide berth, and says, "Er... Ma'am. Sir? Sorry if we're intruding."
A slightly odd creaking sound emerges from the blue's throat, causing Caitlyn to look up and out from her ministrations and catch sight of one bronze weyrling and one towering mass of a pissy man. Blink-blink. Staaare. Not at the greeting An'dren gives her and Kintryth, but at the other bronzer. She quickly collects herself, and responds back to the weyrling, "Not at all Andy. Kint says Riuth is perfectly welcome." A more subdued greeting for the mature bronzerider. "Weyrleader. Welcome to Ista. Our duties to 'Reaches."
An'dren is obviously still growing, tall and all coltish awkwardness. He has big hands, narrow shoulders, and a body that falls somewhere between 'lean' and 'stick-like.' He's a few shades paler than most Istans, and he sunburns almost as much as he tans; he wears a hat most of the time, which does double-duty as shade and as a way to hide the fact that he never combs his pale, orange-brown hair. He still prefers short over long sleeves, however, and though the freckles on his face are usually concealed by the big hat's shadow, they're faintly visible on his bare arms and legs - that is, where they're not angry red from burns or dark with various scratches and cuts.
Malsaeth heads over from the plateau.
Malsaeth has arrived.
Somewhere back there, Wyaeth's doing Wyaeth-y things, most of which boil down to stupid feats of masculinity. Best ignored. That's certainly what N'thei does, turns a blind eye and deaf ear to the rangy bronze while he himself steps to one side to watch An'dren pass in all his frustrated weyrling glory. "I recognize that voice." Eyes briefly but certainly attached to Caitlyn's cleavage; "Party the other night, neh? --Son." The latter is a nod dropped to the weyrling, courteous enough, not-quote-friendly.
X'lar walks over from the plateau.
X'lar has arrived.
B'rin walks over from the plateau.
B'rin has arrived.
Xorvith heads over from the plateau.
Xorvith has arrived.
Another shimmy, and Riuth is in the water, ducking his head down to nose at the surface. One eye is turned on Kintryth in blatant curiosity, but mostly he's just happy to be outside, basking in what sun there is. An'dren, on the other hand, froze at the word of 'Weyrleader,' and now he stares at N'thei not so much in curiosity as in some strange sort of mix of horror and surprise. "Um," he replies. "Duties, sir." Then, hissed: "Ri. Don't think we should be here right now."
Caitlyn blinks rather daftly down at Andy and Riuth, then looking up just a tetch suspiciously at N'thei. She puts the brakes on her sudden wish to hide her state of skimpy clad-ness, nodding to the Reachian. "Yes, t'was me. Nice party Reaches put on, too." A small smirk, and then she's peering again at An'dren. "No-no, Andy. You're perfectly welcome here. Nice to get out and about...bathe."
X'lar follows after Malsaeth, yelling, "Well, I said bloody well -stop-. So there." The red-chased bronze stops finally as he hits the garden area. X'lar comes to a halt as well, touching his lifemate's back for a moment before snapping off a crisp salute to Caitlyn. To N'thei, on the other hand, well, there's no salute for him. Yet. He blinks and looks down at Malsaeth, "You think?" He rolls his eyes and snaps off another salute to the Reaches Weyrleader, this one very much lazy and reluctant from the weyrling. He looks to Malsaeth curiously, explaining in a murmur "Oh. That's just an event that people get together and talk and stuff." To Caitlyn, X'lar quickly nods and quickly dives into the water. Bad hygeine be darned. Malsaeth merely watches from the garden for now.
It would seem that the weyrlings want to spend their evening at the pool, for not too far behind Malsaeth and X'lar are B'rin and Xorvith. The little brown is practically prancing as they approach the pool, and judging by the glazed look in the former stablehand's eyes, there is probably some sort of communication going on between the two of them. However, that focus is lost, as B'rin snaps a salute to both the Wingleader and Weyrleader, addressing the latter with a "Sir!" Glaze, and then the brown quickly approaches the poolside, his quickly whirling blue and green eyes regarding N'thei with curiosity. With a gulp, B'rin approaches as well, although he actually gets into the pool. "Yes, I've seen him before." B'rin whispers up to the baby brown, though he says nothing else out loud to the dragon. He ducks under water, scratching at short hair as he does so, before resurfacing, a rather disgruntled look on his face. Ugh, he stunk!
Nice party. "Wasn't it?" N'thei doesn't sound particularly convinced, nor particularly concerned, but he casts a bland smile for the question anyway. When first one weyrling passes, then another, then another, there's a very blatant alteration to his sweating, loose-collared posture. Distaste; he ventures no farther than the bend in the path, in fact starts to drift back the way he came. "Good luck," whether he means Caitlyn or the three weyrlings is open for discussion.
An'dren must be more persuasive than he looks, because finally, with a reluctant sigh, Riuth pulls himself out of the pool and pads towards his rider. That reluctance abruptly fades when the young bronze catches sight of Malsaeth, and he /just/ manages a civil rumble of greeting for the other weyrling pairs before he's leading the way back to the plateau, followed closely by Andy. "Sorry 'bout him," he murmurs to X'lar as he leaves. "He's still annoyed." Not like Xie probably hasn't already figured that out for himself. N'thei and Caitlyn get a fairly belated salute, and he, too, returns to the plateau, half-jogging as he tries to keep up with Riuth.
An'dren walks to the plateau.
An'dren has left.
Malsaeth looks at Riuth, as if just realizing the other young bronze was there with him. X'lar looks up at Andy and grins fiercely at him. "You think Riuth's mad? Shards and shells, Andy, Riuth only had to deal with one little prank. Mal makes me squirm all day. I never know if he's going right or left." Malsaeth seems greatly amused by this description from Xie and trumpets his agreement. With Andy and Riuth soon gone, it leaves two less pairs of eyes on Malsaeth, making the young bronze antsy. And with that, he changes his mind restlessly and leaves the pool and garden, making X'lar quickly run after him. "Shardit! Stop!" And with that, both X'lar and Mal are gone.
Malsaeth heads to the plateau.
Malsaeth has left.
X'lar walks to the plateau.
X'lar has left.
Riuth heads to the plateau.
Riuth has left.
Focus is broken, and Xorvith's fixation with N'thei is easily broken as his bronze brothers suddenly run past him, heading back to the plateau. With a challenging trumpet, he retreats from the poolside, and he's off after Riuth and Malsaeth. "Shards!" B'rin utters, jumping out of the pool much quicker than he came, in hot pursuit after his dragons and the other weyrlings.
B'rin walks to the plateau.
B'rin has left.
Xorvith heads to the plateau.
Xorvith has left.
Caitlyn just...stands there on Kintryth's wing - staring at the sudden incoming tide of weyrlings...that just as quickly squabble, and flow right back out. "Jays..." is all she can say, shaking her dark head. "Those kids are...insane. And their dragons MORE so."
And there they go. One after another. "If only." N'thei really didn't manage to get so far on his return trip, not back to Wyaeth, not even really out of earshot except that the waterfall is more apt to drown sound from a distance. "That worked with my own weyrlings." At least there's no need to pretend: he actually wanders back now that the coast is clear of young'uns.
Caitlyn gives the huge man a slightly irked look, then sighing deeply - returning to her job of scrubbing Kintryth. She does make out his latter words, shaking her braided head at them. "Just don't terrorize Ista's, or you'll have lots of people crawling up your arse. Me included." Shrug. "I'm not a big liker of young people, either, but I put up with most of the weyrlings." A sudden sneeze from Kintryth has him jerking, and his wing twitches deeply - upsetting his rider into the waters. Surfacing immediately, Cait squalls out to her blue, "Shardin' shaffitall, Kint!"
N'thei watches. What else is he going to do? Fairly frank about it, he takes up a post under a handy tree, one hand hooked on a branch hanging just overhead so that his weight half-suspends from it, and he just watches while Caitlyn scrubs and falls and surfaces and curses. "Terrorize is a bit too dramatic a term," he answers mildly.
Caitlyn glowers at her blue, who rumbles apologies to his rider as she climbs back aboard his dipped wing, the woman then looking out at N'thei. "Whatever. Just leave 'em alone, and we'll handle them." Scrub-scrub. He's still here? Another sigh, and Cait tosses a look over her shoulder. "Enjoying the scenery?" she intones in a coolly arrogant quirk of voice, then following it up with, "So, what brings you down here? If you're like others, it'll be the nice weather when most of the rest of Northern Pern is freezing half-to-death." Seems she's dropped the arrogance for a more proper tone, falling back on the usual Istan hospitality.
N'thei, to the scenery, "Only as much as you enjoy decorating it." A fine, smiling tone now that he's not expected to discuss such dim matters as weyrlings and the terrorizing of them. "Business. Didn't you know? Your Weyrleader Impressed with Wyaeth and me. Are you the Wingleader that gives him so much trouble?" Vaguely, beneath the threads of a grin, he sounds a little proprietary, like troubling A'son is his province alone.
Kintryth whistles his enjoyment of his bath, the blue's neck and head slooowly stretching out upon the surface of the waters so he doesn't upset his weyrmate again. Caitlyn shimmeys up her beast's shoulders, straddling them as she scrubs now at his nearest neckridge - and answers N'thei through soft grunts of effort. "Yeah, I know. I've hears *lots* about you two and your escapades. LIke I said a few days ago." Scrub-scrub. "Am I the only Wingleader at Ista? If you know about that, then you surely know he's been getting flak from half the population." Shrug. "Besides, we made our peace."
"A'son and I didn't have escapades." And he doesn't terrorize weyrlings. Adjusting his half-hang from the branches, droll-sounding even while he argues the finer points, N'thei stops scrutinizing Caitlyn's physique long enough to give her dragon a cursory once-over, the clinical glance that measures up the blue. "I heard he wasn't exactly welcome. Strange as I also heard V'lano was hardly a gem."
"Whatever you say..." Caitlyn grunts, her tone clearly speaking volumes for her utter disbelief. Perhaps oddly, the woman bristles *more* when N'thei eyeballs Kintryth - the blue looking utterly sloppy and perhaps even goofy as he lolls happily in the water. "You could say that..." she mutters out to the man draped over the tree, then sliding down blue hide to land on that outstretched wing again. Padding cautiously across the sail, Cait makes her way to Kintryth's haunch, which is scrubbed with gusto. "What do you mean by that?" she calls out to the Reachian, her tones clipped, wary.
"That I heard he was a freaking jerk and Ista's better off with a decent man helming it." Except that N'thei replaces words like 'freaking jerk' with the sort not often uttered in polite company.
Caitlyn stops her scrubbing, pivoting about on a blue wing to stare pointedly at N'thei - fists settled upon hips. "You know, if I hadn't already gone through shit like this with a few other hoity-toity bronzers, I might've just challenged you to a fistfight to keep Ista's honor pure." It's clear that she's irked, still, and she calls back to the man, "A'son is a decent sort, personally. He's got a long road to go till he's a good Weyrleader, but I think I can believe in him when he isn't whining." That brush in her fist looks a bit tightly clenched. "I've no need to defend V'lano's record, since it's great, and stands on its own." Beat. "How many people have told you you're an arrogant ass who needs to be taken down a few notches?"
N'thei's confidence is calm, shy of cocky, simply sure of himself and Caitlyn's not-challenge of physical prowess; "I'd have won, and what would that have done for Ista's honor, I wonder." He tries the strength of the branch that holds the weight of his arms, lets his smile turn to a grin when it gives a bothered groan and a few leaves shake loose. "Fair few. Why? Is that something you might be apt to tell me?"
Caitlyn gives the bronzer a snarling little half-smirk, the twist of lips ruining her good looks for a moment. "You think so, eh? Wouldn't mind surprising the shell outta you, sometime." Her squared jaw and outthrust neck might indicate someone who's more than ready right now. "You lumbering types always think brute force is everything. Hah!" A small rumble from the blue dragon beneath her feet, and Cait slides one hand against his haunch - the gesture possessive, controlled. "I'm apt to tell you a shardin' lot more than hospitality would allow."
With a big-shouldered shrug, N'thei lets Caitlyn believe what she will about the way brutality might end between them. Bikini or no, he's not about to rush her right here-and-now. "That's what stops you? No one ever has to know how you threw hospitality to the wind." Having fallen back into the idle objective of watching her unabashedly; "Besides, we both know I'm not doing much /listening./"
Caitlyn barks a loud hit of base laughter at N'thei, and though it's short, it carries around the pool, causing some of the frolicing firelizards to peep curiously down at the woman. "That knot," and she jerks a chin at the intricate affair pinned to his shoulder, "...stops me. And the thought of injuring you too badly that you couldn't lift your sorry arse back up and climb on your bully of a bronze to slink home." Grin. And, perhaps oddly for the spitfire bluerider, she actually strikes a rather seductive little pose for the bronzer, that smirk still curling her lips. "Like what you know you can't have, eh? Did you take lessons from Sal'ros?" Beat...and then a flutter of eyelashes. "His jaw dislocated so prettily when I slugged him."
Like? "Only as much as you like flaunting it, love." N'thei has that tone, the one that borders on long-suffering but threads with standing amusement; he's accustomed to looking but not touching, it seems. "You can come and throw a few blows if it will make you happy, I won't object." He's even standing in such a way that his ribs and kidneys and all those other weak little internal organs could take an easy beating. "But you ought to know that I like it rough." There's no way to misinterpret the smile that plays across his face: he's envisioning the bluerider in any number of compromising positions.
Kintryth rumbles softly again, and Cait's head cocks to the side a little, a small, evil smile slowly creeping its way over her features - sa smile that doesn't reach her eyes. A few moments later, and Kintryth is paddling his way over to shore, dipping is wing slightly so his rider can disembark and then pad over on springy feet towards N'thei. "Take off the knot, big man. I'm going to teach you a small lesson," she drawls softly. Why the shell does she look so keen? "I promise I won't leave you bad off enough that you have to hole up in Ista's infirmary." While Kintryth simply observes from his stationary position at the pool's edge, Cait is crouching a little into a ready position, fingers crooked a bit, elbows loose.
N'thei shakes his head and stays exactly where he is; he might bait, but he's not about to run headlong into fisticuffs. "If you have something to prove, you'll have to come over here to prove it." Besides, now Caitlyn's out of the water so the view's much improved.
Caitlyn looks rather unhappy that her baiting hasn't produced the usual results. "You're the guest, guests are first," she mutters with false sincerity to N'thei, simply awaiting his approach. "Nothing to prove, just a little lesson in humility I'd like to give, since you're practically begging for it. Take off the knot and we'll dance. Leave it on, and...well..." Shrug. Grin.
N'thei tosses his jacket, not attached, to one side. The jacket's not in so great a condition anyway, and a little dirt and leaves are hardly going to make it worse. He still isn't going to come over there, obvious by the resolute way he continues to hang his hand around the branch, the lazy stance that accompanies his posture. "View's near the same from here as it is from there," he explains pleasantly.
Caitlyn stiffens as her venting is denied, her outlet for fiery anger sidetracked. After a long moment, she apparently turns her back on N'thei, stepping over to the huge blue head settled on the bank of the pool. The woman presses her forehead to Kintryth's nose, grasping his muzzle very firmly in her hands. And in an odd little ritual, her wound up form slowly relaxes bit-by-bit, while the blue's azure gaze gains heady flecks of orange and crimson as it spins up faster - as if he wicks the rage from his rider, and replaces it with his own cool, rational calm. Until Cait can stand upright, and take an even breath, then turn around to face the Reachian. Smirking a little. "Oh well, even the greenest weyrling knows never to start a fight."
"I can see why you and Shanlee are friends." Doesn't sound like a compliment, but it's all the reaction N'thei has to Caitlyn's performance, to the whole necessity of unleashing her tension into Kintryth, to the glib response she has on turning back. Unfettered, he leans to collect his discarded jacket, to sling it over his shoulder with one finger hooked under the collar.
A sigh, then Cait is smirking again. "So you know of our little friendship, then? Your 'Second is a...kind woman, if brusque. Have you managed to learn enough from her to actually do your job?" Casual, that. "Leaving so soon, Weyrleader? Thought you enjoyed staring at me like some hormone-driven thirteen Turn-old?"
Sensed the trend yet? N'thei doesn't answer to his relationship with Shanlee, ignores the question entirely. Instead, he stops with his head tilted and his brows raised; "Are you going to pretend it bothers you, pretty?" Overhead, the branch gradually stretches back to its unbent posture, grateful for release finally!
Caitlyn actually laughs - the sound somewhat strained, but still, she manages it. "Part of me loathes it, part of me enjoys it. There, I'm truthful. What about *you*? Are you truthful with others? With yourself? What do you *want*, N'thei?" Her words are suddenly sincere, frank.
N'thei, in a word, "Matters?"
Caitlyn stares at the bronzerider for a long moment, trying to deduce his meaning. "You're alive, you're paired with someone who's life to you as you're life to him. I might be foolishly supposing you have goals and wants in life. So...yeah. It should matter." Arms very lightly cross over her chest, and her head inclines forward just a little.
N'thei nods slowly, like all of this is news to him, right down to the part about being paired with someone. In light of it all, after a moment to digest, he surrenders another big-shouldered shrug and makes to meet up with the path that brought him here. "Thank you for not breaking my jaw, much obliged there."
Caitlyn simply stares in surprise at the man's reaction, her arms dropping to her sides as N'thei walks off with that final statement. Words, entreaties, many things swirls in her racing thoughts, but not a word emerges from the bluerider as the Reachian disappears around a tree. Cait's left to go tend to the still orange-eyed Kintryth, who takes a little time to cool off.
A very short while later, Wyaeth disappears from the Istan skies; one can assume that N'thei is along for the ride.
IC Date: 2/21/16
Pool and Garden -- Ista Weyr
The ocean glimmers a deep golden-red with the light of the setting sun. The black, massive stone of Ista Weyr looms to the east, and that matte stone seems to absorb the glory of the sunset spread out in panoramic glory to your west. A circle of stones line the crystal-clear pool, fed by a rushing stream from the distant black Weyr walls. The air is scented with the ocean and with the flowers and fruit trees planted here in orderly rows. A small flagstone path meanders past a low stone fence and out back to the plateau.
The dry winter season relieves Ista Island of its humidity, replacing it with light, buoyant air. Today, there is a light, sprinkling rain and a nice, light breeze carries the scent of sea air.
The plateau lies to the east and stairs twist down the cliffside to the waterfall pool below.
The bubbling rush of the waterfall into its pool, the playfull chittering of firelizards, the plants - all lends to the relaxing atmosphere of this frequented place. Within the huge pool, a blue dragon and his bikini-clad rider frolic - the woman standing on one outstretched wing to scrub with a stiff-bristled brush at his dappled hide.
Along with his copy of the most recent set of notes, unattributed: one boot, unwearable, his. And five pairs of dirty socks.
N'thei tugs angrily, it seems, at the collar of his undershirt. His coat thrown over one arm, his vest opened, his sleeves rolled up hastily, he looks precisely as he is: A 'Reaches rider come to the tropics and learned quickly that Ista's winter is not the same as High Reaches. Whatever lures him here, the splash of water, the waving frond of some pretty greenery, it also sets him sweating as he rounds the bend in the path, stops on sight of bathing. Or probably on sight of bikini.
An'dren isn't relaxed. If anything, he's frustrated, expression equal parts annoyance and resigned affection as he watches Riuth stalk towards the pool. "...Gonna blame it all on you," he's saying, but the bronze clearly isn't taking him seriously; he just snorts, amused, before coming to a halt by the pool's edge to trumpet up at Kintryth. There's a wiggle and a shimmy, and Riuth is already halfway into the water before he thinks to look at the blue, judging his reaction. And Andy? He sidles off to the side, giving N'thei a wide berth, and says, "Er... Ma'am. Sir? Sorry if we're intruding."
A slightly odd creaking sound emerges from the blue's throat, causing Caitlyn to look up and out from her ministrations and catch sight of one bronze weyrling and one towering mass of a pissy man. Blink-blink. Staaare. Not at the greeting An'dren gives her and Kintryth, but at the other bronzer. She quickly collects herself, and responds back to the weyrling, "Not at all Andy. Kint says Riuth is perfectly welcome." A more subdued greeting for the mature bronzerider. "Weyrleader. Welcome to Ista. Our duties to 'Reaches."
An'dren is obviously still growing, tall and all coltish awkwardness. He has big hands, narrow shoulders, and a body that falls somewhere between 'lean' and 'stick-like.' He's a few shades paler than most Istans, and he sunburns almost as much as he tans; he wears a hat most of the time, which does double-duty as shade and as a way to hide the fact that he never combs his pale, orange-brown hair. He still prefers short over long sleeves, however, and though the freckles on his face are usually concealed by the big hat's shadow, they're faintly visible on his bare arms and legs - that is, where they're not angry red from burns or dark with various scratches and cuts.
Malsaeth heads over from the plateau.
Malsaeth has arrived.
Somewhere back there, Wyaeth's doing Wyaeth-y things, most of which boil down to stupid feats of masculinity. Best ignored. That's certainly what N'thei does, turns a blind eye and deaf ear to the rangy bronze while he himself steps to one side to watch An'dren pass in all his frustrated weyrling glory. "I recognize that voice." Eyes briefly but certainly attached to Caitlyn's cleavage; "Party the other night, neh? --Son." The latter is a nod dropped to the weyrling, courteous enough, not-quote-friendly.
X'lar walks over from the plateau.
X'lar has arrived.
B'rin walks over from the plateau.
B'rin has arrived.
Xorvith heads over from the plateau.
Xorvith has arrived.
Another shimmy, and Riuth is in the water, ducking his head down to nose at the surface. One eye is turned on Kintryth in blatant curiosity, but mostly he's just happy to be outside, basking in what sun there is. An'dren, on the other hand, froze at the word of 'Weyrleader,' and now he stares at N'thei not so much in curiosity as in some strange sort of mix of horror and surprise. "Um," he replies. "Duties, sir." Then, hissed: "Ri. Don't think we should be here right now."
Caitlyn blinks rather daftly down at Andy and Riuth, then looking up just a tetch suspiciously at N'thei. She puts the brakes on her sudden wish to hide her state of skimpy clad-ness, nodding to the Reachian. "Yes, t'was me. Nice party Reaches put on, too." A small smirk, and then she's peering again at An'dren. "No-no, Andy. You're perfectly welcome here. Nice to get out and about...bathe."
X'lar follows after Malsaeth, yelling, "Well, I said bloody well -stop-. So there." The red-chased bronze stops finally as he hits the garden area. X'lar comes to a halt as well, touching his lifemate's back for a moment before snapping off a crisp salute to Caitlyn. To N'thei, on the other hand, well, there's no salute for him. Yet. He blinks and looks down at Malsaeth, "You think?" He rolls his eyes and snaps off another salute to the Reaches Weyrleader, this one very much lazy and reluctant from the weyrling. He looks to Malsaeth curiously, explaining in a murmur "Oh. That's just an event that people get together and talk and stuff." To Caitlyn, X'lar quickly nods and quickly dives into the water. Bad hygeine be darned. Malsaeth merely watches from the garden for now.
It would seem that the weyrlings want to spend their evening at the pool, for not too far behind Malsaeth and X'lar are B'rin and Xorvith. The little brown is practically prancing as they approach the pool, and judging by the glazed look in the former stablehand's eyes, there is probably some sort of communication going on between the two of them. However, that focus is lost, as B'rin snaps a salute to both the Wingleader and Weyrleader, addressing the latter with a "Sir!" Glaze, and then the brown quickly approaches the poolside, his quickly whirling blue and green eyes regarding N'thei with curiosity. With a gulp, B'rin approaches as well, although he actually gets into the pool. "Yes, I've seen him before." B'rin whispers up to the baby brown, though he says nothing else out loud to the dragon. He ducks under water, scratching at short hair as he does so, before resurfacing, a rather disgruntled look on his face. Ugh, he stunk!
Nice party. "Wasn't it?" N'thei doesn't sound particularly convinced, nor particularly concerned, but he casts a bland smile for the question anyway. When first one weyrling passes, then another, then another, there's a very blatant alteration to his sweating, loose-collared posture. Distaste; he ventures no farther than the bend in the path, in fact starts to drift back the way he came. "Good luck," whether he means Caitlyn or the three weyrlings is open for discussion.
An'dren must be more persuasive than he looks, because finally, with a reluctant sigh, Riuth pulls himself out of the pool and pads towards his rider. That reluctance abruptly fades when the young bronze catches sight of Malsaeth, and he /just/ manages a civil rumble of greeting for the other weyrling pairs before he's leading the way back to the plateau, followed closely by Andy. "Sorry 'bout him," he murmurs to X'lar as he leaves. "He's still annoyed." Not like Xie probably hasn't already figured that out for himself. N'thei and Caitlyn get a fairly belated salute, and he, too, returns to the plateau, half-jogging as he tries to keep up with Riuth.
An'dren walks to the plateau.
An'dren has left.
Malsaeth looks at Riuth, as if just realizing the other young bronze was there with him. X'lar looks up at Andy and grins fiercely at him. "You think Riuth's mad? Shards and shells, Andy, Riuth only had to deal with one little prank. Mal makes me squirm all day. I never know if he's going right or left." Malsaeth seems greatly amused by this description from Xie and trumpets his agreement. With Andy and Riuth soon gone, it leaves two less pairs of eyes on Malsaeth, making the young bronze antsy. And with that, he changes his mind restlessly and leaves the pool and garden, making X'lar quickly run after him. "Shardit! Stop!" And with that, both X'lar and Mal are gone.
Malsaeth heads to the plateau.
Malsaeth has left.
X'lar walks to the plateau.
X'lar has left.
Riuth heads to the plateau.
Riuth has left.
Focus is broken, and Xorvith's fixation with N'thei is easily broken as his bronze brothers suddenly run past him, heading back to the plateau. With a challenging trumpet, he retreats from the poolside, and he's off after Riuth and Malsaeth. "Shards!" B'rin utters, jumping out of the pool much quicker than he came, in hot pursuit after his dragons and the other weyrlings.
B'rin walks to the plateau.
B'rin has left.
Xorvith heads to the plateau.
Xorvith has left.
Caitlyn just...stands there on Kintryth's wing - staring at the sudden incoming tide of weyrlings...that just as quickly squabble, and flow right back out. "Jays..." is all she can say, shaking her dark head. "Those kids are...insane. And their dragons MORE so."
And there they go. One after another. "If only." N'thei really didn't manage to get so far on his return trip, not back to Wyaeth, not even really out of earshot except that the waterfall is more apt to drown sound from a distance. "That worked with my own weyrlings." At least there's no need to pretend: he actually wanders back now that the coast is clear of young'uns.
Caitlyn gives the huge man a slightly irked look, then sighing deeply - returning to her job of scrubbing Kintryth. She does make out his latter words, shaking her braided head at them. "Just don't terrorize Ista's, or you'll have lots of people crawling up your arse. Me included." Shrug. "I'm not a big liker of young people, either, but I put up with most of the weyrlings." A sudden sneeze from Kintryth has him jerking, and his wing twitches deeply - upsetting his rider into the waters. Surfacing immediately, Cait squalls out to her blue, "Shardin' shaffitall, Kint!"
N'thei watches. What else is he going to do? Fairly frank about it, he takes up a post under a handy tree, one hand hooked on a branch hanging just overhead so that his weight half-suspends from it, and he just watches while Caitlyn scrubs and falls and surfaces and curses. "Terrorize is a bit too dramatic a term," he answers mildly.
Caitlyn glowers at her blue, who rumbles apologies to his rider as she climbs back aboard his dipped wing, the woman then looking out at N'thei. "Whatever. Just leave 'em alone, and we'll handle them." Scrub-scrub. He's still here? Another sigh, and Cait tosses a look over her shoulder. "Enjoying the scenery?" she intones in a coolly arrogant quirk of voice, then following it up with, "So, what brings you down here? If you're like others, it'll be the nice weather when most of the rest of Northern Pern is freezing half-to-death." Seems she's dropped the arrogance for a more proper tone, falling back on the usual Istan hospitality.
N'thei, to the scenery, "Only as much as you enjoy decorating it." A fine, smiling tone now that he's not expected to discuss such dim matters as weyrlings and the terrorizing of them. "Business. Didn't you know? Your Weyrleader Impressed with Wyaeth and me. Are you the Wingleader that gives him so much trouble?" Vaguely, beneath the threads of a grin, he sounds a little proprietary, like troubling A'son is his province alone.
Kintryth whistles his enjoyment of his bath, the blue's neck and head slooowly stretching out upon the surface of the waters so he doesn't upset his weyrmate again. Caitlyn shimmeys up her beast's shoulders, straddling them as she scrubs now at his nearest neckridge - and answers N'thei through soft grunts of effort. "Yeah, I know. I've hears *lots* about you two and your escapades. LIke I said a few days ago." Scrub-scrub. "Am I the only Wingleader at Ista? If you know about that, then you surely know he's been getting flak from half the population." Shrug. "Besides, we made our peace."
"A'son and I didn't have escapades." And he doesn't terrorize weyrlings. Adjusting his half-hang from the branches, droll-sounding even while he argues the finer points, N'thei stops scrutinizing Caitlyn's physique long enough to give her dragon a cursory once-over, the clinical glance that measures up the blue. "I heard he wasn't exactly welcome. Strange as I also heard V'lano was hardly a gem."
"Whatever you say..." Caitlyn grunts, her tone clearly speaking volumes for her utter disbelief. Perhaps oddly, the woman bristles *more* when N'thei eyeballs Kintryth - the blue looking utterly sloppy and perhaps even goofy as he lolls happily in the water. "You could say that..." she mutters out to the man draped over the tree, then sliding down blue hide to land on that outstretched wing again. Padding cautiously across the sail, Cait makes her way to Kintryth's haunch, which is scrubbed with gusto. "What do you mean by that?" she calls out to the Reachian, her tones clipped, wary.
"That I heard he was a freaking jerk and Ista's better off with a decent man helming it." Except that N'thei replaces words like 'freaking jerk' with the sort not often uttered in polite company.
Caitlyn stops her scrubbing, pivoting about on a blue wing to stare pointedly at N'thei - fists settled upon hips. "You know, if I hadn't already gone through shit like this with a few other hoity-toity bronzers, I might've just challenged you to a fistfight to keep Ista's honor pure." It's clear that she's irked, still, and she calls back to the man, "A'son is a decent sort, personally. He's got a long road to go till he's a good Weyrleader, but I think I can believe in him when he isn't whining." That brush in her fist looks a bit tightly clenched. "I've no need to defend V'lano's record, since it's great, and stands on its own." Beat. "How many people have told you you're an arrogant ass who needs to be taken down a few notches?"
N'thei's confidence is calm, shy of cocky, simply sure of himself and Caitlyn's not-challenge of physical prowess; "I'd have won, and what would that have done for Ista's honor, I wonder." He tries the strength of the branch that holds the weight of his arms, lets his smile turn to a grin when it gives a bothered groan and a few leaves shake loose. "Fair few. Why? Is that something you might be apt to tell me?"
Caitlyn gives the bronzer a snarling little half-smirk, the twist of lips ruining her good looks for a moment. "You think so, eh? Wouldn't mind surprising the shell outta you, sometime." Her squared jaw and outthrust neck might indicate someone who's more than ready right now. "You lumbering types always think brute force is everything. Hah!" A small rumble from the blue dragon beneath her feet, and Cait slides one hand against his haunch - the gesture possessive, controlled. "I'm apt to tell you a shardin' lot more than hospitality would allow."
With a big-shouldered shrug, N'thei lets Caitlyn believe what she will about the way brutality might end between them. Bikini or no, he's not about to rush her right here-and-now. "That's what stops you? No one ever has to know how you threw hospitality to the wind." Having fallen back into the idle objective of watching her unabashedly; "Besides, we both know I'm not doing much /listening./"
Caitlyn barks a loud hit of base laughter at N'thei, and though it's short, it carries around the pool, causing some of the frolicing firelizards to peep curiously down at the woman. "That knot," and she jerks a chin at the intricate affair pinned to his shoulder, "...stops me. And the thought of injuring you too badly that you couldn't lift your sorry arse back up and climb on your bully of a bronze to slink home." Grin. And, perhaps oddly for the spitfire bluerider, she actually strikes a rather seductive little pose for the bronzer, that smirk still curling her lips. "Like what you know you can't have, eh? Did you take lessons from Sal'ros?" Beat...and then a flutter of eyelashes. "His jaw dislocated so prettily when I slugged him."
Like? "Only as much as you like flaunting it, love." N'thei has that tone, the one that borders on long-suffering but threads with standing amusement; he's accustomed to looking but not touching, it seems. "You can come and throw a few blows if it will make you happy, I won't object." He's even standing in such a way that his ribs and kidneys and all those other weak little internal organs could take an easy beating. "But you ought to know that I like it rough." There's no way to misinterpret the smile that plays across his face: he's envisioning the bluerider in any number of compromising positions.
Kintryth rumbles softly again, and Cait's head cocks to the side a little, a small, evil smile slowly creeping its way over her features - sa smile that doesn't reach her eyes. A few moments later, and Kintryth is paddling his way over to shore, dipping is wing slightly so his rider can disembark and then pad over on springy feet towards N'thei. "Take off the knot, big man. I'm going to teach you a small lesson," she drawls softly. Why the shell does she look so keen? "I promise I won't leave you bad off enough that you have to hole up in Ista's infirmary." While Kintryth simply observes from his stationary position at the pool's edge, Cait is crouching a little into a ready position, fingers crooked a bit, elbows loose.
N'thei shakes his head and stays exactly where he is; he might bait, but he's not about to run headlong into fisticuffs. "If you have something to prove, you'll have to come over here to prove it." Besides, now Caitlyn's out of the water so the view's much improved.
Caitlyn looks rather unhappy that her baiting hasn't produced the usual results. "You're the guest, guests are first," she mutters with false sincerity to N'thei, simply awaiting his approach. "Nothing to prove, just a little lesson in humility I'd like to give, since you're practically begging for it. Take off the knot and we'll dance. Leave it on, and...well..." Shrug. Grin.
N'thei tosses his jacket, not attached, to one side. The jacket's not in so great a condition anyway, and a little dirt and leaves are hardly going to make it worse. He still isn't going to come over there, obvious by the resolute way he continues to hang his hand around the branch, the lazy stance that accompanies his posture. "View's near the same from here as it is from there," he explains pleasantly.
Caitlyn stiffens as her venting is denied, her outlet for fiery anger sidetracked. After a long moment, she apparently turns her back on N'thei, stepping over to the huge blue head settled on the bank of the pool. The woman presses her forehead to Kintryth's nose, grasping his muzzle very firmly in her hands. And in an odd little ritual, her wound up form slowly relaxes bit-by-bit, while the blue's azure gaze gains heady flecks of orange and crimson as it spins up faster - as if he wicks the rage from his rider, and replaces it with his own cool, rational calm. Until Cait can stand upright, and take an even breath, then turn around to face the Reachian. Smirking a little. "Oh well, even the greenest weyrling knows never to start a fight."
"I can see why you and Shanlee are friends." Doesn't sound like a compliment, but it's all the reaction N'thei has to Caitlyn's performance, to the whole necessity of unleashing her tension into Kintryth, to the glib response she has on turning back. Unfettered, he leans to collect his discarded jacket, to sling it over his shoulder with one finger hooked under the collar.
A sigh, then Cait is smirking again. "So you know of our little friendship, then? Your 'Second is a...kind woman, if brusque. Have you managed to learn enough from her to actually do your job?" Casual, that. "Leaving so soon, Weyrleader? Thought you enjoyed staring at me like some hormone-driven thirteen Turn-old?"
Sensed the trend yet? N'thei doesn't answer to his relationship with Shanlee, ignores the question entirely. Instead, he stops with his head tilted and his brows raised; "Are you going to pretend it bothers you, pretty?" Overhead, the branch gradually stretches back to its unbent posture, grateful for release finally!
Caitlyn actually laughs - the sound somewhat strained, but still, she manages it. "Part of me loathes it, part of me enjoys it. There, I'm truthful. What about *you*? Are you truthful with others? With yourself? What do you *want*, N'thei?" Her words are suddenly sincere, frank.
N'thei, in a word, "Matters?"
Caitlyn stares at the bronzerider for a long moment, trying to deduce his meaning. "You're alive, you're paired with someone who's life to you as you're life to him. I might be foolishly supposing you have goals and wants in life. So...yeah. It should matter." Arms very lightly cross over her chest, and her head inclines forward just a little.
N'thei nods slowly, like all of this is news to him, right down to the part about being paired with someone. In light of it all, after a moment to digest, he surrenders another big-shouldered shrug and makes to meet up with the path that brought him here. "Thank you for not breaking my jaw, much obliged there."
Caitlyn simply stares in surprise at the man's reaction, her arms dropping to her sides as N'thei walks off with that final statement. Words, entreaties, many things swirls in her racing thoughts, but not a word emerges from the bluerider as the Reachian disappears around a tree. Cait's left to go tend to the still orange-eyed Kintryth, who takes a little time to cool off.
A very short while later, Wyaeth disappears from the Istan skies; one can assume that N'thei is along for the ride.