[Log] Entanglement Rituals
Who: Brijana, R'dur, St'vren
When: Day 21, Month 10, Turn 3, 11th Interval
Where: Lakeshore, Telgar Weyr
What: Brijana terrifies R'dur more than St'vren, Rusuth, and Alidaeth combined.
Telgar Weyr Lake Shore
The vegetation thickens near the lake, becoming a meadow that runs along the edge of a narrow, sandy beach. The sands spill down into a crystal lake to the north, lapping against the crater walls to the north and east. A fence runs northwest-southeast, blocking off the lake from the feeding grounds. The grass is thick with autumn, and the long strands are beginning to seed. The few trees that stand on the banks of the lake are in their full splendor with leaves of red, gold, and brown. There are dark green water lilies on the lake, but they are no longer blossoming. In one corner of the meadow, Telgar's herb garden makes the air thick with the smell of mint and thyme, and the chives are in full bloom. Around it, a few fall flowers are blossoming. The lake is cast into dark shadows, though it reflects the lights from the weyrs and the sky overhead, making a constellation in the waters.
Contents:
PLAYERS: Brijana R'dur
Obvious Exits:
Bowl Lake
Brijana
Striking and tall, with the added boost of a regal carriage, Brijana reeks confidence in everything from the rich smoothness of flawless cream skin, to the large, expressive brown eyes, and the back set of her shoulders. Leaves of loose-curls frame her face, the auburn highlighted sheen of which betrays careful grooming that must take hours, and thick bangs sweep across her forehead to provide tantalizing snatches of one of her openly friendly eyes. The thick brows so heavy along her brother's forehead aren't present here, carefully managed and groomed to shapely arcs that only serve to make her eyes look larger. Thinly tapered and a bit sharp, a feature that looks rather out of place on her angular face, is her nose that hooks downward with every attempt with light powders and make up to make it more graceful.
Dressed to flatter both five foot seven frame and her coloring, a V-necked tunic, an inch wide decorative collar sewn in a shade darker than the uniform spring green that clings to her curves, than flares loosely from beneath the empire waistline to past her hips. There, more practical, but no less flattering in accentuating her better features, are a pair of earthen pants that loosen near the sturdy boots on her feet. In the hollow created by her tunic, a lavaliere of Mastersmith quality rests, hung from the thinnest strand of silver-like material.
Autumn evenings are chilly at Telgar, but this fact doesn't dissuade R'dur from visiting the shore of the lake. Alidaeth is a few yards behind, keeping his distance from his rider until R'dur takes a seat on the ground by the water's edge. Then the brown shuffles closer, curling up next to R'dur and letting his rider lean up against him.
There's little caution in the way Brijana steps towards the lake, a glance cast backwards followed by a cheered and faintly appreciative, "Thanks!" It's impossible to discern just who it is, but the bright red cheeks are visible in response to the ruddy-haired girl's profusiveness. A deep breath is taken in, arms swinging up to create a cradle for her head with interlocked fingers, and easy steps bring her to R'dur's side. "Lazy night, huh? Cold too."
R'dur glances upward at the young woman who approaches, offering a small smile to the girl. "Er. Oh, yes. Yes, it is," he agrees with her, nodding slightly. "Oh! I'm R'dur, and this is Alidaeth. Do you--er, can we help you with anything?"
Dark eyes slide from R'dur to the brown not far beyond and flashes both of them a charming sort of smile. "Haven't seen you around yet, I don't think," said in the fashion of one who -knows- everyone. "Brijana, but you," the auburn hair swings forward as she leans just so slightly to create the illusion of privacy, "You can call me Bri. Everyone does, except that stupid annoying brother of mine. Bald too, but he doesn't really like thinking about it I think."
Dark eyes slide from R'dur to the brown not far beyond and flashes both of them a charming sort of smile. "Haven't seen you around yet, I don't think," said in the fashion of one who -knows- everyone. "Brijana, but you," the auburn hair swings forward as she leans just so slightly to create the illusion of privacy, "You can call me Bri. Everyone does, except that stupid annoying brother of mine. Bald too, but he doesn't really like thinking about it I think."
"Brijana," R'dur says, sticking with the proper name rather than a nickname. He pauses a moment to study her, then queries, "That sounds... familiar. But I don't think we have met, so." A shrug. "Are you new to the Weyr, then?"
"Bri." Brijana's light laughter accompanies her correction. A casual hand rifles through her loose hair, "I was here a while back, actually, I think I might've seen you Impress even. Alidaeth, right? Cute name, for a cuter brown." The hand slides from her hair to in front of her, held out towards R'dur, "Pleasure to meet you in person though, I swear, Stav's made it his mission to ruin any fun a girl could have, and what fun is it to have fun without driving him absolutely nuts, right? Right." Not even a breath is taken, no chance given for the rider to respond before she answers her own question. "I suppose, I suppose," she considers for a long moment, "Yes, I'm new to the Weyr in most respects now then. I've been sent here, see."
R'dur blinks, somewhat surprised by her rapid-fire way of talking. "Er. Bri," he agrees reluctantly. "St'vren? You're his sister. Ah, that explains it, then. I think he's mentioned you before," offers the young man, mixed emotions flickering across his face at mention of the bronze weyrling. Meanwhile, Alidaeth preens at the compliment. "Stop it," R'dur tells him, blushing slightly. Then, turning back to Brijana, he continues, "I guess... no fun at all? I'm sorry. Why were you... sent here?" He blushes further, apologizing quickly, "I'm sorry. That's nosy of me."
It's as if she's assessing the man in the way she studies him from foot to head, which doesn't take very long given he's seated, and perhaps more compacted as such. Finally a decision is made and Brijana sinks down to the shore next to him, a shyer smile playing on her lips. "My parents thought I was old enough to either choose a craft, become useful at the Hall, or find my place in life, and Telgar's splendid because Stav's here and keep," she grins sheepishly, "An eye out on me. The lower caverns are all abuzz with how you guys are going to graduate soon. How exciting, right?"
As Brijana settles in next to him, R'dur scoots back and away just a fraction, pressing up against Alidaeth. The brown, though, rumbles and rests his muzzle near the young woman, studying her intently as well. "Ah," R'dur begins delicately. "So have you enjoyed your stay thus far? We, ah, we are going to graduate shortly--another week or thereabouts. It... It is exciting. Yes."
Brijana notes that, a dart of eyes taking in the scooting and remains in her seat, even leaning the other way to give R'dur some space. For Alidaeth, the shy smile segues into a wink that barely pulls her cheeks out of shape - many hours of practice that - before it's all sunshine and frills for R'dur again. "The Weyr's much more exciting than the Hall. What the saying goes about a smith and his... Well, smiths aren't quite as exciting as what goes on here. Yesterday, did you see the green that took off to mate? Shells, I'd forgotten what a rush that could be."
R'dur blushes profusely, not looking at Brijana at all. "Er, right. Green. Yes. That's--common. Always another one, you know?" he stammers. "I, er, wouldn't call it exciting, though. I don't really see why you would, either, actually. I mean, not being involved or... Anyway." He rubs at the back of his neck in embarrassment, wincing.
"You weren't involved?" Brijana asks innocently, neatly sidestepping his own query initially, "I thought they were almost adult by now, aren't they? If you -are- graduating." The lean to one side grows heavier as one hand places itself into the sand, and she tips her head away from the brownrider to the sky so the loose curls of auburn swing lazily, the tips bobbling up and down in flirtation with the ground. "It's interesting, for me to see them writhe in the sky. And it's right out for any child or anyone to see. Dragons don't seem as hidebound as people sometimes. It's kind of nice in that way."
R'dur, with supreme effort, suppresses a whimper. Instead, he blushes further and mumbles in reply, "We--they--aren't allowed to--to chase yet. Not until after graduation, even though... they are old enough. And--and even though some of them would like to." He pauses, struggling to maintain his composure; Alidaeth offers no help, entranced as he is with watching Brijana. R'dur clears his throat then and shrugs. "Dragons are... very different from people. I mean, I wouldn't call it being... being hidebound, but rather... I don't know. You know." He offers an unhelpful shrug, biting his lower lip.
"I don't know," Brijana is quick to reply, "Nothing at all about Weyrs, except they kept Thread from falling and destroying everything, and that St'vren," her chin lifts proudly, "Rides bronze. I haven't even seen Rusuth yet." She pauses, head tilting to consider, "Or Stav." Which is said in the way that implies that -that- omission of meeting is by design. Large eyes widen fractionally, a coy flutter added just for good measure, and lowly she murmurs, "You won't tell him I'm here, will you? I'd like to surprise him if I can." And give him a premature heart attack.
R'dur hesitates, then ducks his head. "I--I guess not. I won't," he promises her after a moment. "It's... not really any of my business anyway." He pauses a moment, shooting quick sideways glances over at the woman beside him. "I haven't seen him today myself. I mean, after the other night, I don't--Well, Weyrlingmaster Breena probably has some punishment for him that's keeping him busy." As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he winces, regretting them.
And she pounces. It's hard to have something like that be ignored by a bright-eyed, adoring little sister type. "Punishment?" Brijana straightens, intent on R'dur until she recalls the proximity of her might scare him off. Relaxing, bit by bit, back to her previous stance of leaned against one arm, she repeats more velvetly, "Punishment? What did my perfect older brother do to get punished?" The thoughts: 'Ma and da will be -so- thrilled.' and 'Ha, it's not me in trouble this time.' are expressed so vividly in the dance of delighted earthen eyes, that words aren't needed.
"I shouldn't have mentioned that," R'dur tells Alidaeth, looking at the brown. The dragon rumbles with amusement at his rider's situation, and with a sigh the weyrling glances reluctantly back at his friend's sister. "Well, er, there was an... incident," he begins slowly. Despite an obvious unwillingness to share the details of St'vren's wrongdoing, he can't tell Brijana 'no'. "He went to High Reaches to deliver some messages, and... got caught up in other things." Pause. Grimace. He finishes: "A gold's flight."
The uncertainty of whether he'll actually talk hovers in the furrowed set of Brijana's brow, but once he starts, she smiles sweetly, encouraging for any tidbit. "You should've gone with him," she inserts in soft admiration for the brown weyrling rather than her brother's escapades, "I'm sure you two would've done well. He didn't... win, did he?" She's been at the Weyr long enough to discern a bit of the politics of such things, and sudden concern wars with the delight of seconds previous. "If you can keep your brown from chasing after any ole' green, he couldn't just stop Rusuth? How funny." - "You don't like flights at all, do you?"
St'vren heads over from the central bowl.
St'vren has arrived.
St'vren ambles into view, finishing off the last of a meatroll and looking so much better than the last time he was here at the lakeshore. He's also showing no tendency towards throwing himself into the water, which is good. "I'm not doomed!" he calls to R'dur. "I'm confined to the Weyr until graduation, and we got a lecture, but that's all. Thank Faranth. I thought I was going to be doing drudge chores till I was thirty--" He's absently smiling at R'dur's companion, until her face registers. And then, see the expression on his face? Poleaxed bovines have looked less confused. "...Bri?"
R'dur blushes further. He and Brijana are seated next to each other on the shore of the lake, and R'dur is hiding by sticking close to Alidaeth. The brown is still seemingly fascinated by the young woman, while his rider is plainly uncomfortable. Tugging on his collar, R'dur admits, "Uh... No, actually. I mean, I don't think it's just that easy. At least, they say it's not, and I don't know, really, because Alidaeth's never--we're not supposed to, you know, but no, he didn't win, and I didn't know anything about it until later and--St'vren!" Paling, R'dur scoots even further from Brijana, as though some impropriety could be discerned then. "That's... good. Real good," he tells the bronze weyrling, without much enthusiasm.
Encouragement from the ruddy-haired girl comes in slow nods that are intended to lead R'dur onto some conclusion, either a breaking point where he's babbling nervously and spilling his guts, or something less dire. "A fine brown like yours could probably do really well in mating flights. Certainly better than that blue who won yesterday, at least," Brijana's lips quirk to one side in mock thoughtfulness, "I /think/ it was a blue, I was a bit preoccupied," which is something you never want your brother to walk in on. "Stav!" Delight wars with the pout that emerges for fun sure to be soon killed. Composure arrives a second later with the girl getting slowly to her feet and the sing-songed words, "I know what you did~!"
Fortunately, St'vren has had two Turns to sharpen his wits, and so does not quail at the advance of sisterly mocking. "Like I ca-are," he singsongs back, lifting an eyebrow at her. "Who are you going to tell? Mum and Da are riding herd on the other three, and they can't tell me what to do anymore now that I'm a rider." Not that he's smug about that fact, nooooo. "Are you here? Is everyone here? You could have mentioned you were coming." He's now close enough to give Brijana a brotherly hug, the kind that involves lifting her off her feet and swinging her around. "And what I do is absolutely none of your business anyway, and it never was." Setting her down, he smiles ruefully at R'dur. "I see you've met my sister. She's harmless, really. Was she trying to pump you for information?"
R'dur cringes further, but backed up against Alidaeth, he can retreat no further. "Right. Sure," he agrees, voice lackluster. "That's what I'm afraid of." The last is muttered under his breath. He pushes himself to his feet as well, though he sticks close to his brown rather than the siblings. "Er, well... I mean, not really. I mean, a bit, but... It's okay?" he tries to explain, shrugging slightly.
Brijana squeals, hands smacking into the larger man's shoulders - though not hard - to be let down. "Jays, I'm too old for that now, stupid!" But it's clear she's cheered by this appearance, however untimely in the scheme of her plans, of her brother. "I'm moving in with you," is declared brightly at the same time as his rueful comments for R'dur. "And I've found a cute toy, I mean boy. Did I say toy?" Laughter bubbles, the slender girl drawing herself up to her full statuesque height. "You've grown so much, not tall, but," the Smith resident's hands drift apart, indicating a wide space, "I dare say your head won't fit through the living caverns' entrance anymore. No wonder I haven't seen much of you this sevenday."
St'vren has absolutely no idea which of these impossibilities to address first. "No you're not. What? But Mum and Da--okay, what's his name? I have not either grown /out/--hang on, Bri, one thing at a time." He keeps his hands firm on her shoulders, lest she try to wriggle out of any explanations. "You can't move in with me, I live in the barracks and there would be issues. But you're /here/, at Telgar? Oh Faranth." That oath is heartfelt. "You /did/ tell Mum and Da you were coming, /right/? Don't you dare get involved with any dragonrider unless I meet him first...is she talking about you, R'dur? Don't let her overwhelm you. Tell Alidaeth to snarl at her." This has just been one of those days. "You're going to live here? Doing /what/?"
R'dur makes a strangled noise at Brijana's description of himself, turning a particularly vibrant hue of red. "Er, well. I mean--Alidaeth likes her," he states finally, giving the traitorous brown a Look. Then, losing all his remaining color, he hastens to explain, "No, no! Not me. Not me at all. I mean, we just--we just met, so... not me? Oh, Faranth. Maybe I should, should let you two, er, enjoy your... happy reunion in--in peace. Alone?" He edges backward, until a firm brown snout in the middle of his back halts his progress after only a couple of steps.
Dragon> Alidaeth senses that Rusuth comments, autumn leaves a bright, amused scatter on the surface of his running-water thoughts, << St'vren says *she* is more trouble than she's worth, but if you wish to entangle your rider with her, best of luck. >>
Alidaeth> Rusuth senses that Alidaeth's thoughts are dry and amused. << I certainly don't mind. R'dur panics at the very thought, but I think it might be good for him. Your rider didn't hear the advice Dianneth's gave mine the other night, after you left, after all. >> That memory amused him further. << Your rider would not mind if they became... entangled, as you say? >>
It's the turns of practice as St'vren's younger sibling that allows her to still under the hands that fasten to her shoulders, and the look of amusement just heightens as not only her brother but -R'dur- too goes babbly. "First," her hand comes up to try and nudge the hands off so she can throw her arms around St'vren again, "Rishka tells me to give you this." An attempt at a light hand smack to the forehead, "That's from Cashie. Aldria wanted me to pull your hair, but I see you've grown balder than the last time we were here. And Eliette gives a grunt. As usual." The family obligations out of the way, the auburn haired girl attempts to twist away, "Sheesh, give me some room to breathe already. Don't think you have to go, R'dur. I think Alidaeth is absolutely marvelous too. One, you're graduating soon which means you can either get me a room here so I don't get in trouble in the dorms, -or- set up house in your weyr. Two, ma and da sent me here. To live with you. Even sent a letter and everything but I think it's lost in the stables somewhere. And three, you know R'dur right? Can I get involved with him?" The last is sounds suspiciously teasing.
Dragon> Alidaeth senses that Rusuth is merely offering a suggestion, nothing more, tra la. << If yours does not, no. Better yours than Leanth's, or Showlath's. >> The brief mental images of the huffy bronze weyrling and the foppish bluerider are disdainful.
Alidaeth> Rusuth senses that Alidaeth's tone grows more mischievous. << My rider, by the way, sends a most heartfelt plea that yours will say 'no' and threaten to beat him up if he does entangle himself with your rider's sister. I think your rider should agree, though, and let my rider grow his own backbone. >>
Dragon> Alidaeth senses that Rusuth is so very comforting, in the 'not' sort of way. << St'vren will only beat up yours if he gets *her* pregnant, he says. Other than that, it is up to him to get free of her. Or not, as he wishes. >>
Alidaeth> Rusuth senses that Alidaeth rumbles, highly entertained by that notion. << I'll let mine know, then. What's wrong with getting her pregnant? Babies are rather fascinating, you know? Your rider could have a nephew then--or perhaps a niece. My rider always liked his nieces and nephews... >> His voice is decidedly wheedling.
St'vren snorts a laugh, and does not let go of Brijana's shoulders, though he does loosen his grip. "Once you meet Rusuth, you'll know why I'm balder," is his only defense against that all-too-true accusation. "As for the rest, smacks and hugs and swats and grunts to all of them as well. I'll visit home after graduation. Now, you have seventeen Turns. Go talk to the Headwoman or the Steward and get your own room or bunk or whatever. My only roommate, at least for now, is Rusuth, and he takes up all of my time. Got me? You're mostly on your own." Glancing at poor (doomed) R'dur, he tries not to grin. He's not too successful. "Yes, I know R'dur. And...well, if you can get involved with him without scaring him to death, go for it." There, that's an impossible labor. Judging from the frantic pallor of the brown weyrling's face, anyway.
Dragon> Alidaeth senses that Rusuth must consult all his rider's store of knowledge. And even that's not very helpful. << It is...rude, apparently, to impregnate a friend's sibling without all the proper rituals. >>
Alidaeth> I bespoke Rusuth with << There are /rituals/ for this? What sort of rituals? >>
Looking abjectly horrified, R'dur gawks back and forth between the brother and sister. The girl's teasing tone is entirely lost on the flustered young man. "But--but--" he stammers toward St'vren, then Brijana. "Too late? And you! I don't know /what/ you're playing at, but stop it!" The last words are frantic, aimed at an innocent-looking Alidaeth. R'dur isn't even bothering to speak mentally to the brown at the moment. "What? /Rituals/? But--no. I know what she said, but /no/. Not her." At the last, he points at Brijana, then shuts up, looking more embarrassed than before. "Er. Sorry?" he timidly apologizes to the pair, wincing. "He, er... Well. Never mind."
Dragon> Alidaeth senses that Rusuth sifts, memories rippling like stones dropped in a pond. << One brings flowers, apparently. And sweet things. And walks with her, and holds hands. And talks a lot with her dam and sire. Then comes the ceremony, and then the mating. Only after all /that/ can the babies start. >>
Alidaeth> Rusuth senses that Alidaeth seems relieved. << Oh, that's all right, then, >> he decides. << My rider can handle that. He'd like those rituals, too, in fact, so I think this will work out--work out very well indeed. >> One can almost hear those gears turning in his mind.
"I won't get in your way, I promise, /and/ I'll even clean after you and your dirty socks." An aside for R'dur follows in the next breath, "He goes through socks like no right man should, you don't, right?" and then Brijana sidles away from her taller brother to the flustered man's side. Or more correctly, to Alidaeth's side, a fond smile cast for the brown dragon. "But fine, I've already tried to speak with the Headwoman, she's difficult to pin down, and I won't be just wandering around doing nothing. Or anybody, or anything, you can count on that. Ma says if I get to be a nuisance in your hair to send me back but," velvet alto turns cajoling, "You won't do that, right, Stav? Right?"
"I have learned over the past Turns to deal with my own socks, believe it or not." St'vren is not budging an inch on this point. "Bri, sleep in the dorms. You'll have people to gossip with there, you'll like it. My weyr is /my/ weyr, and I'm not sharing it with anybody but Rusuth for now." He softens, marginally (butter in Igen), when she starts cajoling. She's scarily good at that. "/I? won't send you home, no. Though I fully expect to see Mum, Da, Rishka, and Permann storming the entrance in a couple of days, demanding your safe return."
St'vren is letting R'dur handle himself from here on out. He'll have to learn sometime--although learning to deal with women by managing Brijanta is like throwing the novice swimmer into the ocean during a hurricane.
R'dur runs a hand through his hair, uncomforted. "Um. No? I don't think so, anyway? What's--what's a reasonable rate of... sock-wearing?" he wonders hopelessly, glancing sideways as Brijana comes to join him and Alidaeth. The brown offers her a charming croon, sliding his muzzle closer to her in hopes of enticing scritches. R'dur shoots another look at Alidaeth, and mouths 'give it up' toward him. Alidaeth, if he sees his rider, ignores him.
"Fine!" And by all accounts, the teenager looks splendidly pleased - almost too much so that it could be a bit scary. "Now -you- can tell ma that I at least tried to stay in your weyr. And magnificently I already have a cot in the dorms. Oh!" The angular face turns, the smile positively wicked in its delight, "You should go get to know P'trel, I -think- he's a bronzerider. Since y'know, you wanted to know all the riders I'm involved with and it's a little bit late, but late's better than never, right?" Absently, with the reach of a girl who's had a few days of practice and then some, she reaches out to place fingers on Alidaeth's eyeridges, the requested scritches running up along the dragon's curve. "Now run along, and I won't bother you, if you won't bother me and R'dur." Her other hand flickers dismissively towards her brother, face turned back to smile sweetly to the brown weyrling, "Where were we?"
St'vren nods. "Go break P'trel's nose. Right. And I'll remind his weyrmate not to break yours. 'Night Bri, R'dur." Having gotten the last word in, he flees for the relative safety of the barracks.
St'vren has left.
Alidaeth croons adoringly, leaning into those wonderful fingers while R'dur stares blankly at the two conspirators. "Um. We were... we were talking," he ventures. "Talking innocuously, with--with lots of distance between us." It's worth a shot, anyway. R'dur actually glares after St'vren as the bronzerider darts off, though his winces and rubs his own nose in sympathy. "I have a very bad feeling about this," he murmurs to himself, eyeing the young woman before him uncertainly.
Brijana tosses her hair, the scattered strands falling back into their picture perfect 'do - how much time does she spend on it anyway? "He wouldn't dare. If he got in trouble for having his dragon -chase- another dragon, punching a full rider, I can't even imagine. Have you met P'trel's weyrmate? It's obvious why that man's eye roams as much as it does after you've seen her." Dark eyes roll upward, both pity and askance for the bronzerider's taste in woman self-evident. "You can stand over there, and I'll tend to your dragon. That should be enough distance, right? Don't worry, I don't flirt with guys who don't want to be flirted with. Much. So how has weyrlinghood been? In all seriousness, are you two," she flicks a glance towards the space where St'vren stood, "Friends?"
Despite himself, R'dur sticks close to Alidaeth and Brijana, perhaps to chaperone the brown--for what little good it seems to be doing. Fully absorbed with the woman, Alidaeth ignores his rider. R'dur releases a sigh, then shrugs. "It's been... okay. Busy. Stressful. But it's almost over, right? And that's good. No more rules--or not as many, anyway, so..." Belatedly, he seems to think mentioning that was a bad idea. "Us?" He gestures toward St'vren's back, then at himself. "Er, well. Yes, actually. He's... he's one of my better friends, I guess. Is that... bad?" He tilts his head slightly, brows knitting.
As absorbed as Alidaeth is with her, Bri makes a good show of being focused only on the brown. The scritches turn into pets of fingers trailing down the snub-shaped nose, her other hand coming from below to try and pet the dragon's chin. "Their hides are softer than you'd imagine them to be, and each one's kind of different, aren't they? I'm guessing Rusuth is quite large by now, and to think the last time I saw all of them, Alidaeth included, they were wee-sized." Or as wee-sized as baby dragons can get. "I think, and you can take this with a grain of salt, because we're siblings and you should -never- trust what siblings say of each other, including what he says of me," obvious much? "But I think he needs a few more good guy friends. We're all girls at home, and I can imagine he's glad to be rid of us all, even if it's only temporary, what with me here."
R'dur offers a shy smile toward the girl, over his embarrassment of earlier. "I guess," he agrees. "It's probably good for us both. I was never really close to any of my siblings, either, but I was probably closest to my older sister. She's only a turn older than me, so." Pause. "You, ah, you kind of remind me of her. Except, well, I never had to worry about her doing me like you do me." There's an awkward silence at the end of that statement; then R'dur flushes again, not looking at Brijana. Instead, he stares at Alidaeth as though he finds the brown as fascinating as she does. "Rusuth's bigger than Alidaeth, yes. They've stopped growing at last, I think; at least, Alidaeth has. I haven't had to make new straps in a while now," he explains, shifting his weight.
"I'm seventeen, which Stav was so kind to tell," Bri shares, an expectant lift of one eyebrow for a response in kind. And in the wait, she continues to run her hands over Alidaeth's head, reaching up to the first arced ridge that begins where neck meets head. "And I'm not like anyone's older sister, I hope, except Eliette's and we all suffer through her gloom and doom of how the world's cruelties of today and tomorrow are unfair for an eternity. Or something." And while she sounds, to the casual listener, totally snitty, the undercurrent of adoration she has for her siblings is quite audible. What he says gives her pause and she turns to mirror the shy smile with her own, "And what do I do to you?"
R'dur hesitates, then offers, "I'm twenty-two. I have an older sister, a younger one, and two younger brothers now." Pause. "My youngest brother, he's seventeen, too." As though that helps. He shifts awkward and stares somewhere around her feet as he blushes. But, without too much stumbling and stammers, he confesses, "You make me uncomfortable."
Brijana's smile shifts into a grin, wider, but no less friendly, "Twenty-two's a good age to stop being so flustered around girls, y'know." She reaches out to throw a mock-punch at his shoulder, one that if it hits won't hurt. "Maybe you can introduce me to your younger brother. Most boys are fascinating, you know, how they fidget and blush and bring flowers if you ask ever so nicely. But that doesn't work on your dragon, does it?" The sunny look is given the brown. "Do I?" Nonchalant. "I don't mean to, you know."
R'dur blushes, but shrugs. "I know," he admits. "That's--that's what Alidaeth says, too. And Weyrsecond Yselle, and St'vren, and... pretty much everybody else I come in contact with." He grimaces, particularly as she punches him. Despite the fact it doesn't hurt in the slightest, he rubs at his shoulder. "He, er, actually isn't around here; he still lives at our hold, back on the Southern Continent," explains the young man. He pauses, then adds. "I know. But... you do. Um. Do you... want flowers? They're--they're kind of hard to find around here, this time of year."
"Depends," Brijana begins, the deliberate shyness of her smile the beginnings of her wheedling magic - or something like that. "If I asked, would you go find some for me?" The rest could matter little, Yselle, Stav, and what everyone else thinks. "There, Alidaeth, I think that's enough for one night, don't you think?"
R'dur bites his lower lip. "Well, er... I don't know. I mean, there might be some down at--at Ista, maybe? It's tropical there. Yes. I bet they have flowers. But--" his expression falls "--I can't really go there. I mean, I guess if I asked to... relay messages, I could. Or--after graduation, I'd be free to go more places when I want to," he ventures hesitantly. He fidgets and blushes, much like Brijana predicted; and after a moment, he notes, "He's never satisfied. Alidaeth, that is. And the more you do it, the more he expects you to /keep/ doing it. It, er, just encourages him." Alidaeth snorts at that, eyeing both humans.
Bri just grins, marveling with her eyes at what little effort it takes to induce a blush from the brown weyrling. "You should see if you can go for message delivery. I've never seen flowers from Ista, never cared to, it must be odd only having one season turn round. But I'm sure the foliage is marvelous." - "Is that so?" Slowly, the two hands return to try and rub against Alidaeth's nose. "Well," she notes with false solemnity, "Between the two of us, Ali, may I call you Ali? Or do you prefer Alidaeth the full, and very lovely name? Between the two of us, always wanting more and never being satisfied is a -good- trait to have."
"I've never been there, either," confesses R'dur, still flushed. "But, er... I--I'll see if I can." He glances at Alidaeth, frowning now. "It's not a ritual. No. Er." He peers from brown to Brijana, then translates: "He agrees, but... he says if you want to call him Ali, you have to keep rubbing him just like that." A sigh ensues, before R'dur queries worriedly, "St'vren, he won't really be... mad, will he?"
"Oh, don't worry about Stav. I can twist him around my finger too. He's a boy," Brijana shrugs, self-deprecation in that slight movement - it's just matter of fact. "He's my big stupid older brother. He's not going to really punch P'trel, so don't worry. He wouldn't punch you for bringing me flowers. I dare say, he doesn't think you're capable of it at all. Come on, you know you want to prove him wrong, right? Show everyone else that no one has to tell you what to do? We could work something out, flowers for lessons on how to not blush around girls all the time. You keep mentioning a ritual?" And the half-scritch, mostly rub doesn't stop either, which allows the ruddy-haired girl to smile fondly down at Alidaeth, with a repetitive, "Ali, Ali, Ali. There we go."
"Um. It was Alidaeth and Rusuth's idea, the... ritual thing," explains R'dur, blushing again. "Don't--don't worry about it. Nothing... important." He nods firmly, then shrugs. "He's probably right, though," admits the young man, just as matter-of-fact as she is. "But, well..." He hesitates. "You... you could teach me that?" Uncertainty and hopefulness wage war in his voice and expression.
Brijana pauses, blinking around the large brown head to study R'dur. "Tell you what, you find me flowers to decorate my cot, and I'll see if we can't make you as suave as St'vren can be. Silly boy, he doesn't realize the kind of impression his bumbling makes on girls, like, I think, you don't realize that when you blush it makes girls want to cuddle you all up, at least initially. It does get old after a while, and some girls," like her, "Like more of a challenge. Tell me about this ritual, I'd like to know, and if it's from the devious minds of Alidaeth and Rusuth, I'm sure it's interesting at least."
R'dur's eyes widen. "Really?" he squeaks. It's hard to tell if he thinks that's good or bad. "Why... Why would they want to do that? I mean, I can't even carry on a coherent conversation?" he inquires earnestly, cocking his head in confusion. Brows knit, and he's definitely reluctant to answer her question. "Well, see, they were talking earlier, and... Rusuth said we could... you know, and Alidaeth wanted to know if St'vren would mind, and Rusuth said no, long as, well.... /babies/--" he grimaces, looking at his feet "--because first, there's rituals. Like... flowers. 'N' other stuff. And Alidaeth--he likes that idea!" By the end, he's mumbling, though Alidaeth looks smug, quite thoroughly pleased with himself.
Brijana pats the brown nose beneath her hands, the patting strokes downward slipping off the dragon to hold out a slim arm to the brownriding weyrling. "Rusuth said we could what? And Alidaeth what? St'vren?" With each word, the carefully groomed brow hitches higher and higher until they threaten her hairline, "First lesson, complete a thought before going onto the next. If you can draw girls in with your blush, you have to at least pretend to be able to talk about something rather than stammer through cause it just confuses us simple minded girls. /Babies/?"
R'dur hesitates, then nods. "Okay. Okay." He takes a deep breath and the time to compose his thoughts, not noticing the arm she extends to him; then, he begins again. "Rusuth said it was okay if we got... entangled," he offers, frowning slightly. "And then he said that St'vren--St'vren would only beat me up if I... if I got you pregnant." He winces then, eyes cutting upward to her face, then down again just as rapidly. "Because there are rituals that come before that. Like giving flowers, and other stuff like that. You know. And Alidaeth thinks this is just wonderful, because I would prefer... rituals--and he's excited now about the flower thing, too." He pauses a moment, then confirms: "/Babies/."
Brijana rubs a finger up and down her cheek, completely baffled. "So they were talking about us. You, me, us? Without even bothering to include me in their plans? I'm hurt, Ali, I'm totally hurt." And the doe-eyes of despair turn to the brown dragon, mock accusation in the dark depths. "So," getting over her shocked hurt rather quickly, she's quick to smile speculatively to R'dur, "Do you want to get entangled with me?" And then quickly, hand lifting to stop whatever thought process that leads to, "/Without/ /Babies/."
R'dur shrugs. "He doesn't usually include me, because he knows I never like his plans," he notes, giving Alidaeth a look. The brown rumbles, unbothered by the accusations being slung at him. R'dur offers a small smile to Brijana, then promptly forgets what she's been trying to teach him as she questions him. "What? Entangled? Us? But I don't think--I mean, it might--but it's not--and St'vren, and /us/... And I'm a /weyrling/, and that's the biggest rule of all: no entanglements, but--" He stops, takes another deep, calming breath. "I... I don't know," he finally says, keeping his voice remarkably steady. "I mean, I--I hardly know you, and you /are/ St'vren's sister, but... Alidaeth does like you, for what that counts. And then, well, there's Weyrsecond Yselle's advice." He wavers, then furrows his brows. "You'd want to get entangled with /me/?"
"This is going to take a long time, I'm afraid, R'dur. What was your name before you became a rider?" Curiously, Brijana peers towards the brownrider, "Or does it not matter now that you're a rider? St'vren will always be Stav to me, no matter how much he tries to sock me in the arm, or smother hug me, or whatever. /Brothers/!" The smile she flashes the ash blonde man is both sweetly charming and secretive, "Well, we'll have to see if you can hold my attention for longer than it takes to teach you how to act around girls, but for now," she glances towards the darkened bowl, "I've a date to keep, so if you don't mind? Oh, and don't tell Stav, wouldn't want him to prematurely croak and right before graduation too."
"Riadur," he offers, brows arching. "Why? But, er, I'll... try not to tell him, anyway? I don't want to, I don't know, upset him or anything. So... goodnight, Brijana. ... Bri." He offers her another small smile as she starts to leave.
And with another sunny smile for R'dur, a little wiggle of fingers, Brijana trots off towards her waiting date.