[Log] Bad Taste in Mates
Who: Brijana, R'dur, R'yk, Yselle
When: Day 11, Month 5, Turn 5
Where: Living Cavern, Telgar Weyr
What: Dianneth thinks R'dur is an idiot, and to fix his problems, she has Yselle search Brijana.
Telgar Weyr's Living Cavern
This huge cavern is sufficiently roomy to hold a large portion of the Weyr's population without feeling cramped. There's always a bustle of activity here. Fragrant dishes are constantly in prepartion for mealtimes: currently for the evening meal. Drudges are always present, either cleaning under Pierron's watchful eye, or helping fetch and carry. A myriad of glowbaskets and many ever-lit hearths make the cavern warm and inviting despite its size. The scents of cooking meats, baking breads and pastries, and the pungent aroma of spices hang mouthwateringly in the air. It is little wonder that those seeking to relax nearly always find their way here to do it. The tables are decorated with a multitude of bright spring flowers.
A short tunnel jaunts northward out to the bowl and the merry sounds of cooking, chores, and laughter echo from the kitchen at the southeast end of the cavern near the easterly passage to the rest of the lower caverns. Within the lower caverns is an entrance to the infirmary weyr to care for injured dragons and riders.
Contents:
PLAYERS: R'yk Brijana R'dur Pierron Yselle
OTHER: Telgar Serving Tables
Obvious Exits:
Inner Caverns Kitchen Bowl
R'yk
Tall and imposing, with long limbs that tend towards lean muscle, this young man stands roughly about 6'1". You'd guess at a glance that he is probably in his late teens, maybe even mid twenties. He has a mouth that looks like it would give generous smiles, if he isn't looking solemn and stern, and he frequently does. His warm brown eyes are not unlike his mothers, and his hair is a shade that is hard to pinpoint. Somewhere between brown and sandy, but nondescript in itself as it's his face that catches your attention more.
R'yk's dressed in a sturdy wherhide contraption, the hide pitted and scarred from age. The boots are wherhide as well - strong and surprisingly unscuffed. Either they're new, or he takes a lot more care of his footware than his other clothing.
R'dur
23 turns old, R'dur has matured into a tall, slender young man standing just below six feet tall. His wavy ash blonde hair is of medium length, shaggy and not quite short enough to keep it out of his grey-blue eyes; a few strands curl stubbornly around his ears. His pale skin doesn't tan. R'dur's features are strong and sharp; he has high, pronounced cheekbones dusted with faint, sparse freckles as well as a hawkish nose and thin lips. His clothes are plain and worn, probably hand-me-downs. They hang loosely on him, as though made for someone a bit bigger than he is: baggy pants and a shirt with too-long sleeves and shoulder seams that extend slightly past his narrow shoulders. Despite the general bad fit of the clothes, R'dur has taken care to make himself as presentable as possible, right down to his carefully cleaned boots. His shoulder bears the knot of a brownrider at Telgar Weyr.
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.
Yselle
This girl will most charitably be described as having 'a good personality'. Nature has been particularly cruel to her. Thick, dark eyebrows loom over her eyes, her nose is slightly crooked, with a bump near the end, and her lips are pale in colour, and way too thin. Her one real beauty is her eyes; liquid brown and large, framed with thick lashes, readily crinkling into a smile. It is easy enough to overlook these, however, with a huge, bulgy mole sitting just in front of her left ear, and a sallow complexion, her skin heavily scarred from a nasty case of acne. She seems to attract scars like a flame attracts insects too; several are scattered over her body, most notably a double-semicircular set of gashes on the left side of her throat that resemble teeth marks. Figure-wise, she is nothing to write home about. Although her limbs are well-toned, her joints are knobbly, and her curves are almost nonexistent. In seeming defiance of all this ugliness, however, her dark brown hair has been cut very stylishly: cropped at about chin-level, it hangs in straight, blunt-ended lines, which always seem to fall neatly back into place.
As though dusk's shadows have fallen across these leathers, they are of a darkened hue which only just falls short of true black. Double-stitched, and snugly tailored, they're fastened at the wrists with gleaming metal studs which precisely match those used in place of buttons up the front. Likewise, the buckle of her belt, surprisingly plainly shaped, gleams beneath the jacket, clasping the darkened leather to her waist, where it falls to hug her hips, and legs, though not tightly enough to restrict movement. Her boots, laced to beneath her knees, take up the darkened hue, precisely matching those of her leathers. A glimpse of deep red wine, Yselle's under tunic, may be caught when her collar is loosened, the solitary splash of colour.
She wears a silver ring on the middle finger of her left hand, and a rose quartz pendant in the shape of a conjoined Y and s.
Black and White, the colours of Telgar Weyr, entwine with kelly green, looped in an elaborate fashion, clearly indicating her rank as Weyrsecond.
Brijana waves her hand, nonchalant in both gesture and in Yselle's further introduction. "Who said anything about being a mother? Don't worry, ma'am. I wouldn't want to appropriate your daughter." Clearly though, Yselle isn't the focus of dark eyes that've found something nice to look at, but not touch, and the young woman nudges a seat out with a bent knee and slips into it easily. "I could look after her rather than the nannies, especially when you've evening or dawn sweeps?"
Bri's look for the greenrider adopts the disbelief of: are you serious? "Three younger sisters. And St'vren." She shifts more comfortably into her seat, an arm looping casually over her knee that lifts, foot rested on the chair's edge. "Someone's gotta look after that boy." Every so often, that look of disbelief slides over to study R'yk, before promptly returning to Yselle.
Stepping into the living cavern from the lower caverns, R'dur tousles his curling, slightly damp hair and tries vainly to straighten a few sections before giving up. He settles for detangling it, at least, and heading toward the serving tables. As yet, he's not noticed his two favorite women sitting over there with R'yk, though he passes right near them.
R'yk smiles at Bri over the top of his mug, he's more than content to sit and be oggled at. Though he does reach out across the table in front of Bri with an apologetic grin as he snags a redfruit from the bowl to munch on. R'dur is given a passing glance, and nod, but not much more attention.
"Hm, I'll think about it," Yselle says, noncommittally. She seems rather unconvinced, to tell the truth. "Thing is, Brijana, I'm not sure how comfortable I am having my daughter in the care of someone who so obviously dislikes me."
Brijana's not so subtle eye flirtation with R'yk ends abruptly with that up front statement, and she veers quickly to eye Yselle, the pretty girl looks absolutely baffled. "I don't dislike you. I just don't trust you. But I suppose it's a reciprocated sort of feeling. No loss, I just get the feeling R'dur would like to see more of his daughter." She's not accusing the greenrider of anything, nooo. "Don't worry about it though, I'll forget I offered. What did you say your name was again?" Flashing R'yk a sunny smile, the conversation with the Weyrsecond and distractible eyecandy prevents her from noticing R'dur passing by.
R'dur flinches, stopping where he stands as he catches a familiar voice and name, well-trained to picking both out. Very slowly, with wide blue eyes, he turns to regard Yselle and Brijana and R'yk in turn, biting his lower lip. "Um. Hi? I'm not--I'm not interrupting or anything, am I?" he asks uncertainly. Almost against his will, his feet carry him lower, his errand to the serving tables forgotten.
"Funnily enough," Yselle says casually, "You trying to guilt-trip me doesn't do anything to convince me. That kind of thing might work on... oh hello R'dur."
The sunniness that was initially for R'yk stays put even as Brijana glances back to R'dur's approach, the bright smile widening in irrepressible delight, unbothered by Yselle's insinuations. "We were just talking about you. Do you want some wine?" She lifts her mug towards the brownrider, "It's mulled and a bit tepid now, but still quite good. Did you just get home?"
R'yk looks from each of the girls in turn to R'dur. "No, not interrupting anything at all wingsecond." he notes, grinning a little too cheerfully.
Dragon> Dianneth bespoke Alidaeth with << Your rider is an idiot. >>
Alidaeth> Dianneth senses that Alidaeth replies simply, << Well, yes. Yes, he is. Why now? Or is this just a general annoucement of the facts? >>
Dragon> Dianneth bespoke Alidaeth with << He has bad taste in mates. He does not like my rider, >> which should be proof enough, << And instead he has Pretty Hair, who is quite possibly the only person stupider than he is. >>
R'dur winces, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Er. Hi," he offers R'yk first, avoiding both of the women. "You, ah... Well. Nevermind. I'm R'dur, really," he tells him after a moment. He wavers a moment, then gives Yselle a blank look, like he doesn't know what she's talking about. "Hi," he says simply, blushing and glancing away. He offers Brijana a warmer smile, though still uncertain. "Ah, wine. Um, well. I don't dr--not right now," he changes his mind, with another sideways glance to Yselle. He takes a seat woodenly, glancing across the three warily.
"R'yk," Yselle focusses her attention on that brownrider now. "When is your new baby going to come visit us? Or do I have to go to Igen?"
Just because R'dur's arrived doesn't mean Bri stops looking at the pretty boy, but she does align herself physically with her weyrmate, attending silently to him with fussy little gestures like picking dust off his shirt and attempting to straighten his hair with deft fingers. "If you want the wine," she gestures to the place where it's obviously resting before the brownrider. "And I finally got the dratted firelizard out of my hair and left him under our covers. So if you see a lump there later, don't sit. You might squish him."
R'yk chuckles, and remembers now. "Oh yeah, I'm R'yk by the way." he directs to R'dur and Brijana. "The big stuffy lump out there is Yariath, but he's a softy at heart too." before he replies to Yselle's query. "I'll talk to Rulana and see if I can urge her to come visit. I think she's gotten used to the warmth at Igen though." he shrugs, and flings the core of his redfruit into his now empty mug, where it jangles against the sides for a few moments.
R'dur blinks at Brijana, smiling wryly. "Oh, good. Well, at least he didn't--didn't mess it up, you know?" he remarks. "I'll be careful, though; I'd hate to hurt him or anything. Mine... I think he's been getting along too well with Ebillan. It worries me. They're going to be like a pack of renegades and thieves, sneaking off with anything they can." He shakes his head. Another glance to Yselle, then R'yk. "It's nice to meet you. You have a new baby? So do--" guiltily, he glances at the table and instead offers, "Congratulations."
Dragon> Alidaeth senses that Dianneth is all smugness. << Nah nah, >> she says, suddenly.
Alidaeth> Dianneth senses that Alidaeth accepts this somewhat warily. << What? >>
Dragon> Alidaeth senses that Dianneth doesn't give it away. << You'll see. >>
Alidaeth> I bespoke Dianneth with << Weeell, okay. Don't keep a secret long, though. I'm curious. >>
Yselle, as always, has a special eye-roll just for R'dur. Still, it's R'yk she addresses. "I don't think I've met Rulana. I'd love to see the woman who finally uh... sort of tamed you. Tamed in the sense that you haven't tried to get Brijana on your lap yet. - Oh by the way, I've got something I need to ask you, Brijana, when you have a minute," that in a carefully neutral tone.
"Of course, if you did squish him, it'd probably be no loss." Brijana slides R'dur a sly look, amused at the description of his growing fair. "I get the feeling Belli's been filching things from Ebillan's stash wherever it is. Just past a sevendays old and already trouble. I don't know why I let you convince me to try and get one." Though, admittedly, she wasn't trying very hard. One of the hands that fuss stills, fingers sliding across knuckles and her pats reassuring to her weyrmate's hand. "R'yk, you ride brown too. See, I told you, there's something fabulous about brownriders. Most... brownriders." Maybe Thunderbolt's wingleader is the one exception. "Hmmm?" Busy eyeing that aforementioned lap, she's distracted in her wordless query of Yselle.
Dragon> Dianneth bespoke Alidaeth with << I'm going to solve all your rider's problems, even if he is an idiot, since after all, he's the sire of our clutch. >>
Alidaeth> I bespoke Dianneth with << Really now. That's... ambitious of you. How are you planning on fixing everything? >>
Dragon> Dianneth bespoke Alidaeth with << I'm going to get his weyrmate out of your weyr. I'm sure she clutters it up with useless stuff anyway. >>
Alidaeth> I bespoke Dianneth with << I'm not sure she'd leave, you know. But... Well, not really. You know how my rider is. He picks up after her all the time instead. >>
R'yk gives a husky chuckle. "Now that's what I like best about you Ys... you're so forthright about these things." his words seem to intimate that there's room for them both, weyrmates in the cavern notwithstanding. "On the other hand, Gherith is quite formiddable when she decides to have her way." he's teasing of course. The green has her own strong personality, but there's more truth to the taming of the R'yk than is commented on. To R'dur he adds "Yes, not quite so little now though." a rueful grin at that fact.
"Ebillan won't notice," R'dur tells Brijana confidently. "Once he's stolen something, he forgets about it. And anyway, Bellicose is... well, anyway. He's not much trouble, really. I mean, I don't mind him." He shrugs, glancing down. After a moment, he chances another look up, brows knitting as he peers at Yselle. Reluctantly, he tells R'yk, "Well, yes. They... grow up fast. Ysalia is... six months now?" Again, he glances over at Yselle for confirmation.
"Six months today," Yselle responds equably. She grins and winks at R'yk. "Was it a secret? You weren't doing such a good job of hiding your nature, you know." Then, for Brijana, she mentions casually, "You might want to discuss this with R'dur, but Dianneth thinks you would make a good candidate for the coming clutch."
Dragon> Alidaeth senses that Dianneth notes a little huffily, << What I /said/ was, 'that useless piece of fluff should do some real work for a change, and she has what a rider needs, not that I can imagine a dragon with /that/ poor taste'. >>
Alidaeth> I bespoke Dianneth with << Oh, dear. My rider is... not going to be happy about this. But... we will see. Perhaps all will work out. >>
R'yk adds "Don't they just. Speaking off, I'd best be getting back. Nice seeing you again Ys. R'dur." a grin at the former and a brisk nod at the latter "And wonderful to meet you Bri." another overlylong look that could be contrued as bordering on 'insolent' by some, and 'appreciative' by others and the rider strides off to deposit his empty mug by the tray at the hearth, and on out to the bowl.
R'yk walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
R'yk has left.
"Well, as long as you're sure we won't have firelizards nipping at each other... I suppose I can try and keep Belli around." Brow furrowed, Brijana watches R'yk go, her smile in return belatedly but definitely in response to a look she construes as appreciative. "I'm growing kind of fond of him." The firelizard, though it could go either way. "What?" Instead of staring at Yselle, the accusation of her darkly expressive eyes shoot to R'dur. "What did she say?"
"Good-b--bye." R'dur's last word to R'yk falls flat, as he stares at Yselle with a very blank expression. He gulps and shoots a quick look over at Brijana. "She said... She said you shoud be a candidate," he repeats for her, his voice as expressionless as his face. He's trying very hard not to let his thoughts on the subject show at the moment.
"For the clutch, Mirrath's clutch," Yselle says in an unemotional voice. "You can say no, if you want to. I think everyone would understand."
It's clear this scenario, being asked to Stand has crossed Brijana's mind before, the way her eyes light up once it's repeated twice, and the little gap of her mouth, an answer expectantly waiting for her voice to emerge. But then dubiousness sinks in, after all this is Yselle. "You're asking me, if I'd like to stand for Mirrath's clutch. Why? And how come Alidaeth didn'-, I live with Alidaeth." Preoccupation sinks in, and what misgivings R'dur may have just go unnoticed.
"I..." And it's then that Bri finally notes R'dur's expressionless voice and face, worry accumulating in the furrowed set of her brow. "I need to think about it. Thank you, ma'am. I... I need to go think. I'll... I'll tell R'dur when... thank you." What should be any kind of cheerful turns into uncertain stammering, and quite un-Bri-like, she gets to her feet, manages the barest slip of smiles around, with reproach in wobbly eyes for her weyrmate, and makes haste in exiting to the bowl.
Brijana walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.
Brijana has left.
On R'dur's end, silence. He purses his lips and simply glances between the pair. "I... don't know," he answers after a moment. "He's not... maybe he just didn't... I don't know," he settles for his earlier answer, with a half-hearted shrug. "I--no--Bri," he begins, watching her exit. "I--oh, shards. Why are you doing this, Yselle?" Abruptly, he rounds on her, blankness turning to sudden hurt.
"What?" Yselle frowns back at R'dur, "What are you talking about?"
Dragon> Alidaeth senses that Dianneth is becoming more and more disgusted with R'dur, << Does he practice stupidity in front of his reflection or something? >>
R'dur shakes his head, frowning. "Alidaeth didn't say anything about this," he accuses, growing more irrational. "And now he says this is Dianneth's idea of fixing everything. Nothing was wrong, Yselle. We were /happy/. And now, what? You don't like that, so you have your /dragon/ take her away?"
Alidaeth> Dianneth senses that Alidaeth is apologetic, guilty-sounding. << It is my fault. I said nothing of this to him, so he thinks I do not think she should be one. He's upset, so he blames your rider. >>
"You know something, R'dur?" Yselle says, getting to her feet angrily, "I am really tired of the way you're acting. You can't bring yourself to just /act/ when it comes to our child, so when I take care of her you feel left out and your /weyrmate/ constantly accuses me of keeping her away from you! You seem to have some fantasy that I am pining over you. I don't know how many ways I have to demonstrate that I don't /care/ who you weyrmate, or when, or how, and I certainly don't want it to be me. We were friends at one point, as you pointed out to me a few months back, well, /I/ haven't changed. I'm not the one who has to make more of everything. I'm happy that you're happy, although I can't honestly understand how you could be. So, get this straight. You have a choice, let her do what she wants in regards to this, or try and stop her. I don't honestly know why Dianneth picked up on it and he didn't, but you demean yourself by accusing me of petty jealousy."
Dragon> Dianneth bespoke Alidaeth with << She thinks he is behaving like a hatchling. >>
There's a flicker of guiltiness across R'dur's face, but he stubbornly shakes his head and it's gone. "I should--I have to--good bye," he tells her, gesturing after Brijana. He rises and hurries after his weyrmate, not glancing back at Yselle.
Alidaeth> I bespoke Dianneth with << He is an idiot. >>
Yselle rolls her eyes, and mutters under her breath, "Yeah, I can't imagine what I did to deserve getting pregnant the one time I slept with him, either." She grabs a meatroll off her almost-forgotten plate, and stalks off in the opposite direction.