[Log] Pie-Worthy Secrets

[brazenbronzer]

Who: Cayri, I'neph, X'drian
When: Day 2, Month 1, Turn 443
Where: Gather Grounds, Ista Hold; Food Tents, Ista Hold
What: After X'drian forces I'neph to watch Cayri, the pair talk and eat pie again. I'neph finds out some very interesting things about J'tei.

-Ista Hold- Gather Grounds
     A long, disordered row of tents and pavilions lines the edge of the Gather grounds. While there are smaller tents speckling the landscape that surrounds the Hold, these are clearly the Crafting tents. Each central pavilion is made up of the colors of the Craft it represents and has a little cluster of smaller tents surrounding it. Even the Baker and Vintner Crafts have tents here, despite having booths set up throughout the grounds. Being closest to the Hold, Healer and Harper have the best spots near the gate to and from the courtyard. From there, in slightly crooked line, follow tents for the others.
     In the Healer tent, herbs and simples are for sale; this is often frequented by housewifely types. The Harper tent has instruments and scrolls and quills and inks. Bakers are offering pots and pans and recipes. The Farmcraft has seeds and plows and the like. The Weavers will point out their irritation at being placed next to the Tanners, though their wares vary. Sailors have brought a mess of fishing gear and boisterous Journeymen and Apprentices to peddle it, and the Star Craft next to them seems very subdued with their charts and farviewers. The Smiths and Miners are in tandem, as usual, with their pavilions connected to sell everything from pick-axes to intricately worked jewelry.

Players:
I'neph.........6', athletic; olive skin, dark brown eyes & hair; early 20s.
Cayri..........5'6". 16 turns old. Black hair. Brown eyes. Skinny.
X'drian........Black hair, eyes, dark skin. Looming, with a fierce gaze.

Exits:
Beach.........................[B] Dance Square..................[DS]
Food Tents....................[FT] Game Tents....................[GT]

X'drian eyes the girl. The depth of scorn in his eyes has no end. "You idiot. By waiting until Reaches told everyone you were dead to bring you out, we insured they won't try it again with another poor girl who manages to impress there. But, of course, all that matters is /you/." He shakes his head, lips curled in a sneer. "There isn't a bigger picture, because you're so damned self-centered you can't see past your own goals and agendas."

Cayri and X'drian are having an argument near the path from the beach into the packed grounds. The volume has dropped considerably, but they still get eyed frequently. "No sir. I never had an agenda. But I wouldn't expect someone who's so worried about the bigger picture that they've lost sight of the people they're hurting in the mean time to understand that." Bitterly, she adds, "At least D'wed's not trying to hide behind morality. He took me there. You left me there."

With a profoundly bored expression, I'neph has been milling about for some time, having visited most of the stalls already. He's on his way toward the beach when a new addition to the scenery garners his attention: Weyrleader and weyrling, having it out. Not just any weyrling, either--I'neph studies Cayri first, then X'drian before he edges closer, deliberately nonchalant in loitering a safe distance away (and notably /behind/ X'drian) while he strains to hear.

X'drian's tone is fairly dripping with scorn. "Spare me your self pity, /weyrling/. No one else wanted to be involved. /I/ need you because I need every rider I can get for the upcoming Pass. Everyone else would have left you to die. Or left you in exile. One person? Compared to saving Pern from Threads? You forget, little girl, I'll have to bear every rider who dies in Fall. So forgive me if I don't humbly beg your pardon for leaving you a whole week - well supplied - in order to have yet another card to force Reaches into line when the time comes." He smiles mirthlessly, "I've saved you only to put you in the path of Threads. Die you will, if you can't see a bigger picture than a problem of your own making." He straightens up from looming over the girl, even though she'd taken a step back from him. "Stay with an escort. One of the bronzeriders from the last clutch. No arguments." He turns to go and hearly runs I'neph down. "Hear enough?"

Cayri says in a flat tone, "I'm glad we have someone so attuned to the needs of the many. Looking after us, sir." The pause is sparse. Though she shrugs dismissively at X'drian's order, rolling her shoulder aside, she answers him dutifully. "Of course sir." With a delightfully warm smile, she wriggles her fingers at I'neph in the background.

I'neph takes a step back from X'drian, mouth opening and closing once before he finds his voice, and a big grin to accompany it. "I hear you're in the market for an escort, actually," he says lightly, gesturing to himself. "Have I got the man for you." He leans sideways to peer past the Weyrleader, mimicking Cayri's little wave in turn.

X'drian says sourly to I'neph, "Sorry, you're not my type. - Stay with her. You lose her, I'll have you on latrine duties despite what M'vari says." Well. The gather's certainly spoiled for someone. But is it X'drian, Cayri, I'neph, or all three?

Cayri stands in the background, annoyed with both bronzeriders but being a very good girl and waiting for her escort.

"Oh, yes, sir. I understand. I just don't think it'd work between us, anyway," I'neph tells X'drian, maintaining a too-broad smile. "Yes, sir, I'll take care of her. You can count on me." And he creeps sideways around the bronzerider, toward Cayri.

X'drian growls faintly under his breath and stallks back off into the gather.

"At least now I understand why M'vari called him a self-righteous prick." Cayri watches X'drian get sucked into the crowd, muttering the remark under her breath as I'neph draws nearer. "You don't have to babysit, I'neph. Just tell anyone who asks that I kicked you in the. That I kicked you and ran off."

"Oh, hell no," I'neph says. "I tell them that, and he really will kick my ass. You think /you/ have it bad, he made me cut my hair!" Because hair cuts are infinitely more painful than being left on a deserted island for a week. I'neph winces to prove it when he reaches up to rub at his close-cropped hair. "What was all that about, anyway?"

Cayri answers in a singy voice, lifting her fingers to make a quoting gesture, "Politics." Underneath the lilting sweetness, her voice is all bitterness and aggravation. "What more can he do to you?" She looks at the top of I'neph's head, little sympathy there. "Scalp you clean? You really are a pansy."

"Okay, technically, it was J'tei's job," admits I'neph, "but under X'drian's orders. And I am not a pansy. My hair is very important to me. You really would've been gushing over me if you saw me /before/." He sounds quite confident, too, as he offers her an arm, like the good little escort he is. "I heard something about a Pass? Where to? You'd think he'd have sense enough not to get into that in the middle of a /gather/, you know?" he questions easily.

Shrugging again, Cayri says, "I had mostly stopped listening by then, but apparently my days are numbered and X'drian is the only person who can save us all." Interpretative history. "He felt like he was owed an answer about my intent. I felt I'm owed an apology. I didn't get my apology, so he got told a lie. That's fair?" She's not convinced about I'neph's swooniness with or without his hair, so she starts walking toward food. Two steps pass and she wheels back around to snag I'neph's arm. "What is this anyway?"

I'neph snickers, nodding. "Oh, yeah. He's one of those hard-core Threadites," he says sagely. "Does the drills and everything. Really makes me rethink ol' Sh'van's offer to get me into /that/ wing. So what is your intent, then?" When she takes his arm at last, he grins smugly and sets off toward the food tents, the course she's already set. "What's what?" he asks on the way.

Cayri pulls on I'neph's arm sharply. "This. What's this all about?" She snickers at I'neph's tale, trying to see through a part in the crowd where X'drian might have gone. To no avail, but it would have made her feel better to give him another dirty look. "That really didn't go the way I imagined it would for the past two weeks. I'd have enjoyed shouting a little more, but that old couple kind of made it obvious that people were /listening/."

"I'm being nice," I'neph says, tilting slightly at the tug on his arm. He rolls his eyes. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Anyway. Eh. I figure why bother? Can't win a fight when him, I don't think. You should've waited until a better time, though, to corner him and have it out, like, oh, when we get home?"

Cayri says defensively, "I didn't start it. He just lit right into me about being a martyr or something and then grabbed me by the arm." Her fingers chafe the arm linked through I'neph's, rubbing it briskly even though there doesn't appear to be any bruise. She sulks, "If I could have avoided it, I would have, trust me. But he just blew his top right without any provoking."

I'neph, meandering through the crowd toward the food tents with Cayri on his arm, nods sympathetically to Cayri. "Oh, yeah. He's like that. Me, I made the mistake of being in the living cavern while him and that Zaorine were having it out. He lit into me about my hair just to have something to complain about--was going to cut it right there but we talked him out of it. The man is a menace, lemme tell you. Wish we could ship /him/ off--back to Benden," he says, shaking his head.

"Well, when you become the weyrleader." Cayri says this with the utmost conviction, the utmost belief in I'neph's potential. She clears her throat right afterward. "When you become the weyrleader, you can ship him right back where he belongs. Right now, you could buy me a pie."

I'neph smirks, plainly pleased with Cayri's flattery. "Uh-huh, you bet I will. First item on my list, you know? And then--wait a second now." He pulls up short, blinking at her. "I bought last night, and you ran away. I think you owe /me/ one this time around," he tells her plainly.

Cayri's eyes get a little misty when she looks up at I'neph, blinking like she's fighting the tears. "X'drian just yelled at me in the middle of a gather, and you're going to make me buy you a pie?" She avoids sniffing bravely, but she comes very close to pulling that off. She dangles in after thought, "I'll tell you what J'tei told me today."

I'neph very studiously doesn't look at Cayri, continuing his walking hastily. "Tell me first, and I'll see if it's worth a pie. You're going to eat me out of all my hard-earned marks otherwise," he announces.

Cayri mumbles, "Not if you won't buy me a pie." Leading I'neph along on the promise of the possibility of a free pie, she says, "Wellllll, you know how R'mi was supposed to get married to a girl from Boll?" From enraged at X'drian to nearly in tears at I'neph, she's now dragging this out eagerly.

"If it's good, I promise I will. I'll buy you /two/," vows I'neph. "The Lord's daughter, wasn't it? What's that got to do with J'tei?" He's still not glancing at her, lest those tears wheedle more promises from him.

Even in the winter, the Istan weather is warm. The daytime temperature is around 70 F (21 C), and the nights seldom dip any lower than 55 F (13 C). The skies are clear, and the breezes are pleasantly tropical.

Cayri stops walking, pulling I'neph's arm to draw him to a halt as well. Perching on her toes, she talks into his ear. She mutters to I'neph, "... real... Sarei,... Boll's daughter,... they... a plan... meet... Weyr.... before she... her... so they... be..." She drops down from her toes onto her heels, nodding gravely.

You sense Cayri stops walking, pulling I'neph's arm to draw him to a halt as well. Perching on her toes, she talks into his ear. "Well, J'tei's girl's real name is Sarei, /not/ Soriane. She's Lord Boll's daughter, and they made a plan to meet at Fort Weyr. She wanted to see R'mi before she agreed to marry him, and he was planning to spirit her away so they could be together." She drops down from her toes onto her heels, nodding gravely.

I'neph's brows knit at what Cayri whispers to him, his mouth dropping open. When she finishes he pulls back slightly to stare at her, still gaping; gradually a broad smirk spreads across his face. "Well, well," he marvels. "That's... that's pie-worthy, that is. So with R'mi out of the picture, she's free to run off with her One True Love J'tei, right? How funny. How absolutely hilarious. I can't wait until we get back home."

Cayri shakes her head hurriedly and says, "But you can't tell him that I told you." Perhaps she should have stipulated that from the beginning? "Pie." She drags him insistently off to the baker's booth, all set to get her eighth-mark pie for potentially ruining the lives of two innocent people.

Cayri heads to the food tents.
Cayri has left.

I'neph comes from the gather grounds.

-Ista Hold- Food Tents
     Baker tents manned by apprentices, independent tents manned by unfortunate younger siblings, the foods and drinks available at the Turnover Gather are as diverse as the population apt to turn up for the festivities. All told, there are over twenty booths for food and drink scattered to one side of the grounds.
     The Bakers tend to have more elaborate foods for sell - at a slightly higher price, of course. Rich bowls of stew, carved sandwiches, and delicate pastries are listed. The independently owned booths often have simpler fares for simpler prices: Smoked drumsticks, meat pies, and bubblies. In among the food, the Vintners have booths set up for different types of drinks, mixed drinks, ales, wines, ciders, and iced juices.

Players:
I'neph.........6', athletic; olive skin, dark brown eyes & hair; early 20s.
Cayri..........5'6". 16 turns old. Black hair. Brown eyes. Skinny.

Exits:
Gather Grounds................[Out]

I'neph still has that broad, gleeful smirk on his face as Cayri drags him along. "Don't worry, I won't drag your name into it. I mean, something like that, seems like /some/body in the lower caverns oughta know something--I'll just blame one of them or something," he says easily, falling in line again at the pie booth. "So what made him tell you that, anyway? You that charming?" He looks rather dubious at that, while he digs in his pocket with his free hand for his marks.

"I don't appreciate the doubt in your tone, I'neph." Cayri drapes her fingers through her hair, disturbing the pretty black strands and making them fall prettily across one eye, all sweet looking. "I told you that J'tei thought I was cute, and an hour or two chatting in the snow just drove hom the point." She smiles angelically at the bronzerider. "I was /trying/ to get him to talk about why he went *between* like that, but the subject just kept sliding out of hand. He's crafty."

I'neph snorts. "Don't try that on me--I know better," he drawls as they move forward in line. "You couldn't get /anything/ out of him? Faranth. He wouldn't tell me anything, either. It's not right, I tell you. Not right at all. I don't trust him. But! I have some leverage now--this should be much better," he declares, in a tone that's plainly gloating. His smirk lasts until he glances down at the pieces of a mark he's come up with. Wrinkling his nose, he eyes them and finally asks heavily, "What're the odds on me getting you to share one with me, out of the goodness of your heart?"

Cayri blows the hair out of her eyes hastily, looking a little disappointed in the end. "Whether or not you know better, you have to admit. Cuteness." Her free hand dives into her pocket and comes up with a fraction-mark of her own, holding it on her hand toward I'neph. "I just gave you a piece of news that gives you, as you say, leverage. And you can't even front the marks for a pair of pies."

I'neph eyes Cayri a moment, rolling his eyes. "I'm just a poor little bronzerider, kid. Don't have much call for marks back home, like I said. Besides, I need to save in case I see something I like, you know? I was talking to the Smiths earlier about some stuff--you know I nearly apprenticed to them? I was going to, years ago, and it just never worked out." He shrugs as he accepts her offering to the pool, combining it with his own as he steps up to order their pair of pies. When he receives them, he steps to the side out of the way to pass one to the girl.

"They make apprentices do actual work, so I've been told." Cayri takes the pie, nursing the pastry against the press of people. "Plus, you may have been a success at it and then stayed at the Hall, and you'd never have been on the sands to Impress to Dioscuth, and your whole life would be different." One has to wonder if different might be better in this case? "What, um, are you going to say to J'tei?"

I'neph shrugs. "I guess so," he agrees easily. "Of course I'd've been /good/ at it. I mean, it's, like, advanced handymanning, and I'm good at that. Well, more making than repairing, but I can make stuff, too. Anyway. I guess it all worked out in the end, right? Pause. He prods idly at the crust of his pie rather than taking a bite of the hot food. "I dunno. What's it matter?" he wonders.

Cayri shoos some people off the end of a picnic table, scraping a few scraps of food off the bench with her foot and gesturing for I'neph to have a seat. "I didn't mean to imply you wouldn't be good at it, handsome. I just meant that you might have been /too/ good at it. Get the difference?" She sits on the edge of the table with her feet on the bench instead of the more customary way, with her feet on the ground and her butt on the seat. "Well, he /can/ kick the crap out of you. So I just think you ought to handle it delicately. That's all."

"Good point," I'neph agrees as he sprawls on on the bench, leaning back against the edge of the table. Taking his first bite of his pie, he chews thoughtfully on it while he glances up to Cayri on the table. "What would you suggest, then? I was thinking, maybe I'll talk to Soriane first. And if J'tei comes after me, I'll keep her between us for protection. Though, I'm touched by your concern," he drawls.

Cayri shakes her head. "No, I'm not concerned for your safety. I'm just worried that you two will get in a fight and it will come out where you really heard and he'll be mad at me." Selfishness prevails! "He's got an actual sense of honor." Her mouth halfway full of pie, she chews thoughtfully for a few seconds. "Why would you go to Soriane first? She probably doesn't know anything more than you and me do. He pretty much has her on a pedestal, treats her like spun glass. He'd never tell her anything that might get her in trouble."

"I like Soriane," says I'neph. "Though this explains a lot, actually. She's always after me about my grammar--worse than a harper. Don't worry, I won't give you up. I have my own honor, you know. Was that the only thing he told you? Faranth, I've known him months now and I can't get anything out of him." For several seconds he falls silent, working on his pie again. "Anyway. She's less dangerous. I was thinking I might pick up a knife for him and try to make nice, but this--well. Don't have the marks, after dragging you around all the time, and anyway, if he's talking to /you/ before me? No way I'm sucking up to him."

Cayri shrugs and throws a piece of the crust off of her pie, aiming toward a trash bin but not trying very hard. "If you think Soriane's a good place to start, then go for it. I just think you're barking up the wrong tree." There's no sympathy for his lack of cash flow. No offer to front him any marks either. "He also told me they've never. Mhm. I assume because he has her on that pedestal and he can't figure out how to make a move on her, but I didn't ask for clarification."

I'neph rolls his eyes. "Faranth, like it's that difficult? I mean, if I've got a girl up on a pedestal somewhere, I am definitely going to make a move, right? Right. Usually, I end up regretting it when they turn out to be completely crazy, but still. I do it, anyway. The way they are with each other?" He snorts, shaking his head. He continues his pie-eating slowly, then queries, "If you know so much, tell me what I should do instead? What can I say to J'tei that won't end up with me in the infirmary?"

"I realize the whole concept of emotion might be foreign to you?" Cayri brushes the crumbs of pastry crust off her fingers, spraying them happily on I'neph. "But he actually loves this girl, and he's loved her for a number of turns, and it's hard to go from worshipping someone to having them." She actually gives his question serious thought, leaning on her now empty palm on the table top. "I don't think you should /do/ anything, not unless you're prepared to get knocked out. You have such a pretty face, it's going to be a shame when he breaks your nose."

I'neph leans forward, twisting awkwardly to regard Cayri in full. "Wait a second. What's that supposed to mean? I understand all about love, I'll have you know--better than you, I'm sure," he says with a frown. "Just because I'm not doting all over some tart right this instant doesn't mean I /can't/. I'm not incapable of it, if that's what you're implying." Rather sulkily, he falls silent, and finally veers from that subject by asking, "Hey, who were you running from the other night? After you swindled me for the /first/ pie."

Cayri explains patiently, "The very fact that you call your non-existent love interest a tart says it all. That was a good rant though. You should be proud of it." Fabricating a pout for his sulky moment, she lets him have his little sadness and then waves the hand she's not leaning on. "Reaches Weyrleaders. Hey, how come you didn't chase after me and make sure I was safe and sound?"

"Most of 'em are, even if you /are/ doting over them," notes I'neph sagely. "You just tend not to /realize/ that until, you know. After the fact." He shrugs, though, any real irritation fleeting. "Someday, though, mark my words. I'll find me a nice, decent sort of girl and settle down. Somebody. Anyway. Was it really? Huh. I stayed and covered for you, I'll have you know. Looks even more suspicious, two people running off like that." Uh-huh. "Besides," he continues, "you're obviously okay. Faranth, for all I knew you were running from /me/, so why waste /my/ gather running you down? Did you really miss having me there that much?"

Cayri sits forward to clasp her hands under her chin, leaning down toward I'neph with a beautiful flutter of her eyelashes. "Can it be me, I'neph?" Biting her lower lip, looking desperately hopeful, she asks, "Please? I'll take care of you. Of us. Together. Right up until the part that you remember you hate fidelity and I remember that I'm too pretty for you." Sagging slightly, she adds darkly, "You could have at least /checked/ on me. What if I got abducted? You'd feel bad."

I'neph eyes. "Not likely," he notes. "When did I say I hated fidelity? Nothing against that, myself. In fact, I always am, whenever I'm in a relationship." After all, it's not hard to suffer through a month of it at a time. "Might be... Adria. Or Daja or--oh, wait. We already nixed Geneve. Maybe one of the girls from my clutch. ... Probably Breide," decides the man, wrinkling his nose. He shakes his head to dispell those thoughts and then adds, "You could have had Aydeth tell Dioscuth to tell me to come find you, if you were really that worried about it. Sorry, I got caught up in other stuff, you know?"

"She's cute at least, and not likely to knife you." The knifing would probably be attributed to Geneve? Anyway, Cayri looks excited by the fact that he's dwelling on the thought. "What other stuff did you have? Spending the marks you don't have?"

I'neph snorts. "That's what you think. The others, at least, would knife me in the front." A rousing endorsement of the woman he thinks he could end up with. He shrugs, though, answering the latter question now. "Oh, I haven't got anything, just looked around a while. Not much I really care to spend money on. I've poked around everything, though. The star craft's tent was interesting, though--didn't know anything about that, really, before. D'you know, they can calculate the movement and time and all that sort of stuff of the stars? I looked at some of their charts, and they had all kinds of equations written out there." Oddly enough, he actually sounds quite interested in this.

Grining, Cayri remarks, "That's sweet. When you do finally wind up with that perfect girl." She coughs, actually appearing to be surprised by the reaction. "Um, when you do finally wind up with that girl, I'll make sure and tell her about those romantic notions of yours." The whole idea that math and star charts could be interesting is lost on her, making her peer at I'neph with her brows drawn together. "I didn't know that, no. Why would you care?"

"Maybe you could spread it around /before/-hand," suggests I'neph. "Might help me find her, you know what I mean?" But he shrugs that off as well, the gesture serving as answer to her question as well. Thoughtfully, he remarks, "Well, can't say I /really/ care where the stars'll be a thousand years from now, since I'll be good and, well." Dead. "Anyway, it's just the--the math of it, I guess, being /able/ to figure it. It's interesting, is all."

"Excuse me." Cayri hails the nearest girl to their table, a pretty thing who has the utter innocence of a holder-lass in her stance and her dress and all the rest of it. "Excuse me, miss. Would you knife this young man in the back or in the front?" The poor girl is so doe-eyed, she doesn't even know where to begin and stares hopelessly at I'neph and Cayri like they're... like they're... /Weyr/ people!

"Don't mind her," I'neph says at once, offering the girl his most charming smile, and Cayri a dark look. "She's never been out in public before. We usually keep her locked in the lower caverns back home. You wouldn't knife me at all, would you?" Hopeful look.

The girl looks terrified, made no better by I'neph's explanation of Cayri. She works her jaw silently and then just bolts off, running toward a cluster of girls to whom she is undoubtedly related. "I'd say that went well." Cayri dangles her fingers in farewell to the girl's back, grinning at I'neph afterward. "Can't say I didn't try."

"How kind of you," drawls I'neph. He does, though, call after the girl, "I'll see you later, right." Like that's going to help matters. Better just hope she doesn't have a really big brother hanging around anywhere. I'neph seems unworried for the time, at least. "Oh, sure. That was trying all right. I'm eternally grateful, can't you tell?"

Cayri winks, making a clicking noise with her mouth. "Always looking out for you, handsome." She looks around again, pursing her lips together as she scans the shadowed faces for one that jumps right out of the crowd. "Mm, you pick one? At least then I'll know the /type/ of girl I ought to be looking for."

I'neph ponders that a moment. "Can't say I really have a type, actually. Not crazy, I guess--seems like after a while they all either decide they hate you or they love you. Which, the love part wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't in the process of trying to break up with them when they get all clingy. Ugh." He shudders at the very thought. "You can't tell that until after, though. Anyway, I like pretty and weyrbred. Those holders, man. They're the ones that decide they love you and /still/ won't put out."

...Cayri pauses. "You have some serious issues with girls, don't you?" She starts down from the picnic table, chuckling as she gets a glimpse of the girls over there whispering about the crazy Weyr people and how obsessed they are with stabbing people, whisperwhisper. "Makes me feel better about my own issues, at least. But shouldn't a Weyr be /the/ place to meet girls that aren't going to get all clingy on you?"

"Sure," agrees I'neph, ignorant of any whispering behind his back. "But you don't really want to get in a relationship with them, right? Because they aren't going to care to hang around themselves." Too clingy or not clingy enough--apparently, no girl will do. "I've told you /my/ problems--what's yours?" he turns the question on Cayri then, regarding her expectantly.

Cayri laughs weakly, dusting off her pant legs with a sense of importance. "Aside from Impressing and being some kind of freak to the entire world?" She takes an extra moment to straighten a seam, eventually satisfied with the way the look plays out. After all, she spent her hard-earned marks on this get up. "Mmmmm, I'd rather remain a mystery."

I'neph eyes Cayri a moment, smirking slightly. "Well, there's some allure in that," admits the bronzerider. "Makes me curious. You're not one of /those/, are you?" He studies her up and down for a moment.

Cayri puts her hands neatly on her hips, enunciating the whole low-hanging pants things with a pleased little smirk. "Some allure? I'm freaking hot, I'neph." In a skinny teenager way. "One of /what/?"

"Those," clarifies I'neph. "One of the ones that likes other girls. Because that's nice to imagine, but not so great in practice. Lowers my odds, see." He wrinkles his nose. "And that's not really... allure. Okay, well, it is, but being mysterious is a totally different sort of allure," adds the bronzerider, studying her attire. "Not that it matters how alluring you are in the first place. You're a crazy freak still stuck in the barracks, after all." He smirks.

"/With/ a fair-eyed bronzerider who hasn't had sex in at least a year." Cayri points this out fiercely, raising her index finger to underline the fact. "Not that it's any of your business, but no. I guess I don't have a problem with the thought of being with another girl? But it's not really been an option. We didn't do a lot of commerce at Weyrs, and that would /never/ happen at a hold. Plus, I'm still a crazy freak in the barracks, so that /really/ lowers your odds."

I'neph ponders that a moment. "Huh. I'd be surprised if he /ever/ had. He's a goody-goody, you know? Holder-type. So, are you? There's some of them at the Weyr now, actually--a couple of 'em ran away from their crafts or something like that just to come to the Weyr." Pause. "Anyway, the odds are fifty-fifty, as my dad always says. Either it will happen or it won't." He grimaces, adds, "He never really understood the finer points of percentages."

Cayri informs, "He has. We talked about it." That must have been a long chat. "Kind of. Not the point. The /point/ is..." She pauses, canting her head and pulling on her hair, trying to jog her memory. No luck. "I forget the point. But the answer is no, I'm not one of /those/. What odds are fifty-fifty? That you'll find a girl who can tolerate you?" She wobbles her hands iffily. "I'd say ninety-ten."

"What /didn't/ the two of you talk about?" wonders I'neph, blinking at the girl dubiously. "I think he was lying to you. No man would ever admit he hadn't in front of a girl." He sounds quite knowledgeable about that, too. Then: "The odds on anything. Either it will or it won't--that's the joke," he explains with a roll of his eyes. Pause. "And my odds are a lot better than that, I'm sure. They have to be."

"J'tei doesn't seem like the bragging type. Otherwise, he might be bragging about the fact that he went *between* before all the rest of you. Sort of like how you bragged about your weyr then got totally eclipsed by J'tei?" Cayri relates this with mounting enthusiasm, ending with a full-fledged, sparkling beam at I'neph. "Odds aside, I'm done with this party. I have to go find someone to take me back to Fort and see if I can find some way to get even with X'drian for being a prick to me."

"And I'm going back to--I dunno," I'neph finishes lamely. "Maybe I'll stay a while longer--it's not past /my/ bedtime. Good luck with /that/ one." Snort.

Cayri says, "Thanks. At the very least, the thought will keep me warm at night." She starts away, saying as she walks off, "I hope you find something to keep /you/ warm at night." Presumably, she finds someone to give her a ride back to Fort, and does so without getting I'neph in any trouble for not being a responsible bodyguard.