The Mentor
The good thing about masturbation is that you don't have to get dressed up for it. ~Truman Capote
OOC Date: April 2, 2010
IC Date: Day 15, month 5, turn 22 of Interval 10
Who: G'brion, B'tal, Pterath, Jeibeth
Where: HRW Bowl
G'brion has a talk with his mentor in which he learns a few things about straps, and gets some advice about dealing with G'stav. But then the conversation turns to sex, and things go downhill fast.
Having finished his chores for the afternoon, Gabe is out for a walk in the bowl with Pterath, his hands shoved into the pockets of his thin jacket. He's watching her as she waddles along, looking supremely content and relaxed.
"Stop moving around," B'tal nearly yells, sounding frustrated, from where he's perched on Jeibeth's back. He's adjusting straps that don't look quite so worn as they start tending to after use. They must be new. "I know you need to feel them, but doing that isn't helping right now." Jeibeth closes her eyes with a sigh and goes still while her rider continues his work.
Pterath lifts her head abruptly, and then barrels forward, trumpeting an excited greeting to Jeibeth. Gabe follows along at a more sedate pace, smiling at both green and rider when he arrives within hailing distance. "Hi B'tal, Jeibeth," he greets them. "New straps?"
This makes the whole being still thing fall apart, Jeibeth opening her head and arching her head around to look at the young dragon and her rider. There's a deep, warm rumble of greeting for the pair and she moves to face them with all her delicate grace that still makes B'tal sigh. "Hey, Gabe. Pterath. Yeah. Trying to be, at least." The older green lowers her head and a spicy puff of incense brings her mellow mindvoice, << Hello, young Pterath. Are you and yours well today? >>
"What're you doing to them?" Gabe asks, tipping his head up curiously to try to see what exactly B'tal is trying to accomplish up there. It's probably something he'll have to do eventually. Pterath warbles happily at Jeibeth, all buzzy and drippy and fragrant like the insects and moisture and foliage of a jungle or rainforest. << Yes! We are having a nice walk in the bowl, and THEN we're going to have a story. A new one that I haven't heard before! >> She practically thrums with excitement over that part.
"Just fitting," B'tal says but the tone of his voice suggests it's something more. He shakes his head, "She doesn't like the way it feels. What was it?" Beat. "Too stiff. I swear-- women." Jeibeth doesn't take offense, however, she adds unnecessarily to the younger dragon, << I like my old straps. They should feel the same. >> According to her, at least. << A story sounds lovely, though. Who will be telling you a story? >>
Pterath flashes an image of her rider - the awesome storyteller - in reply. << What do straps feel like? >> she asks, and without waiting for the answer, thrusts herself further in, trying to rummage in Jeibeth's mind for the answer in a way that would be quite rude in any but a very young dragon. "Oh, cool," Gabe says, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. "How do you make them less stiff? Or is it like boots, and you just have to suck it up until they're broken in?"
<< I'd very much like to hear a story told by yours, >> Jeibeth says so politely, tilting her head to eye the weyrling curiously. There's no sharp admonishment for this rummaging but the older green closes a curtain, all heavy, rich and luxurious fabrics, to keep Pterath from delving too deeply. A flicker of private candlelight seeks to redirect toward more proper behavior before she shares the feeling of straps and the subtle weight of the rider between her wings at the moment. "Oil mostly, I guess. Can just depend on the way they're treated initially. Don't know that much about making leather, I guess. But these are nicer." B'tal says the last more loudly and it's probably mostly directed at his lifemate.
"They look nice, on," Gabe says, and that compliment is directed as much at Jeibeth as at B'tal. "Oil. That's good, then, you can fix 'em so she's more comfortable." Pterath withdraws, though without much in the way of apology - there's a faint tang of resentment at being corrected, but the prospect of the story distracts her again. << His stories are good ones. They make good games to play, except we make them even more fun. >> 'We' being Pterath and the other weyrling dragons.
"Thanks," B'tal replies, probably for the pair of them. "Been working on 'em awhile. "Could line them, too, I guess." An out loud thought as the greenrider slides down off of Jeibeth's back so he's on the ground again. "What're you guys doing?" he asks, apparently not in the loop of what the dragons have been talking about. << I enjoy games. One of my favorites is chase. >> Although the feeling of air she offers along with that suggests flying.
"Oooh, yeah, with fluffy stuff, like a coat. Or maybe fur. I bet that would feel nice on dragon hide," Gabe says. He's not all /that/ interested in dragon straps, though, and happy enough for a change of subject. "Just out for a walk. And trying to think up a story, because Pterath wants me to tell her one, and I'm kind of all out of stories. I'll think of something, don't worry!" he adds hurriedly when she swings her head around to shoot him a draconic Look. << Chase, that sounds fun! It must be like Bite-him-on-the-tail. >> Which is played on the ground, but does involve chasing. In its ideal form, has only pretend biting, though accidents have been known to happen. << We played yesterday, and Liniath caught Balyeroth. >>
"Probably not much help," B'tal offers without a whole lot of apology for it as he looks at the small green. The way he looks at her is a little odd, but then he voices his thoughts, "It's hard to think Jeibeth was that small. I mean. I know she was. I remember it. But." Now she's not. He'll just have to trust Gabe to understand what he's saying. << Liniath must be very fast, >> says Jeibeth is a humoring but polite sort of amusement.
<< She is fast and I am clever >> Pterath says, radiating smugness. She shows Liniath how they converged on Balyeroth, and cut him off. It was all Pterath's idea! Gabe grins at B'tal. "Yeah. She's already like twice as big as when she hatched, which is just - weird, in a way. I kind of wish she'd stay little, and then part of me wishes she was just completely grown up already." Guess which part that is! "You know, some of us were talking the other day, and we were wondering. Do dragons, like - do their personalities change a lot, from the time when they're little until when they're grown up? Or are they basically the same?"
"I was eager for Jeibeth to just finish already." It's probably not difficult to figure out why. "Seemed like it took /forever/ for us to get our own weyrs. Thinking back now it really wasn't that long, I guess." B'tal shrugs. << Very clever, I can tell. >> Jeibeth sits back on her haunches carefully, her tail wrapping around her front legs, and she looks at Pterath as though she can see the clever on her. B'tal glances at his lifemate consideringly, then says as he looks back at G'brion, "They change, I think. Not a lot sometimes. Jeibeth has... relaxed a little, I think. She's all into," he gropes for a word, "Properness and stuff. Think she was worse when she was little."
"Yeah - right now it seems like forever but - it's really not." Gabe knows this, at least intellectually. "Properness? That's like completely opposite from Pterath. She's kind of wild. Maybe she won't be as wild when she grows up? Not that I really mind it," he says, sending a fond smile toward his green. Pterath puffs up with pride at Jeibeth's compliment, and flares her wings in a showing-off pose. << I want to be BIG and clever, >> she says. Like Jeibeth. << It must be so nice to be big. >>
"Think they just learn how to control themselves better. They learn what is and isn't acceptable." For the more part, at least. "The older dragons make sure of that as much as we do, I think." B'tal says the last with a grin and a glance between Jeibeth and Pterath. The former unfurls her shimmery wings in to echo the younger green's posing. << You will be. And it won't be very long at all, my B'tal says. I don't think being small would be so bad. You can fit places that I can't. >>
G'brion looks impressed by Jeibeth's pose - she /is/ pretty, just as B'tal claims. "Yeah, I think so. She gets fussed at sometimes by the weyrlingmaster dragons, for whining about stuff, and things. Then she complains to me and I'm like - well!" He laughs. "It's alright though, it means I don't have to always be the bad guy." He reaches down to rub at Pterath's headknobs affectionately. She pushes her head up against his hand, like a cat, and croons happily. << Yes, it is kind of fun, being small, but my rider doesn't let me fit into small places. He says when I get big, I might forget and try and do it again and break things, and then they would take his hide off. >> There's a faint tinge of worry, there - she's pretty sure he didn't mean /really-for-real/, and yet, the possibility is there...!
Of course she's pretty. She must know it, too, with the quiet confidence that she holds herself with. "Jeibeth never got in much trouble," B'tal muses back in remembrance. The green furls her wings back against her sides and arches her neck to bring her head down to her rider. "Too worried about being proper," he teases her. << One can never be too proper, >> she assures Pterath. << And I do not think it would be very proper of them to take his hide. We don't remember anyone ever having their hide taken. >>
<< I don't really care about proper >> Pterath informs Jeibeth carelessly. << It's too much time and trouble, and it makes it harder to DO things if you're always worried about proper. My G'brion worries about it sometimes but I told him he shouldn't. He usually knows the right thing anyway, so there is no point in worrying about it. >> It's all logical, to her. And there's a sense of grateful relief, at having her own hunch confirmed, that Gabe isn't /really/ going to lose his hide. "It's not trouble exactly," Gabe explains. "She just gets fussed at sometimes. We haven't gotten punished or anything... yet." That last part comes out in a dark tone, as if he suspects it's only a matter of time.
"Can't think of anyone that /really/ got in trouble or anything, though. S'all I'm saying. They're babies. It's just what they do. Testing boundaries, the ones that do that sort of thing. They get over it when they get older." B'tal isn't exactly learned in the way of putting these thoughts about little dragons out there and he only has his experiences to go on. << Being proper doesn't take anymore time than not being proper. It's just a matter of being respectful and considerate of those around you. >>
<< Yes it does >> Pterath argues back. << You have to sit and think, do they want me to do This or That, or maybe That or This, and you don't know, and you sit and thinkthinkthink some more, and really you should just DO things. >> It sounds like an argument that's well-worn, one she's made many times before. "Yeah. No, there's nothing wrong with her," Gabe agrees. "She is just like a baby. So it's fine. I was thinking more - some of the weyrlings are kind of assholes, and this one guy keeps trying to pick a fight with me."
<< I think, >> Jeibeth begins, the laugh beneath her voice the sound of wind chimes in a warm, spring breeze, << that you're giving this too much thought already, Pterath. >> B'tal looks at Gabe curiously, "Oh? What guy? Should tell someone." Which is to say, perhaps, someone that isn't him. Someone capable of doing something about it. "And you should tell someone if they make you uncomfortable. Bad for the dragons."
"I dunno, that's kind of like ratting, which is one of the reasons he's such a tool in the first place, actually," Gabe says, neglecting to mention the name of this mystery weyrling. "But he just never knows when to shut up about things. I guess I could just pop him one, he'd probably stop, then," he says, thoughtful. Pterath tilts her head at Jeibeth, then dissolves into sparkly draconic laughter. << Let's play a game >> she suggests.
"Fuck ratting. If people are going to be stupid, they can deal with the consequences." B'tal has feelings on this particular subject, apparently, but then he's shaking his head. "Who?" he asks again. "Don't think hitting is really the way to deal with anything." Which might be kind of a ridiculous concept considering where it's coming from. << What sort of game? >> asks the older green, lowering her fore down carefully so she's more on the other's level.
Pterath considers this question. << I like Bite-him-on-the-tail, but there are no blues to chase, >> she says, discarding that idea. << We could play I'm Yyth, and you're the mean boys, and I roar at you and you run away! >> That's her other favorite. She provides an image of how it presumably happened, suitably embellished of course, with one of the boys falling over in dying agonies after Yyth's mighty roar. G'brion blinks at B'tal, and seems unsure how to respond to the hitting part. "Well, not usually, but sometimes," he begins, and stops. "I dunno. Well, it's G'stav. Mainly he just runs his mouth. I just get tired of it, is all, and he needs to stop calling me a pussy and whatever."
Jeibeth doesn't seem to think these games sound quite as interesting as Pterath seems to think they sound. Instead she offers up some vibrant visualizations of being... proper and considerate of everyone else around them. It's so very dull that she can't really be serious. But she /seems/ serious. "Oh, right. He's cute." B'tal is easily distracted by these sorts of things. "Are you /being/ a pussy when he calls you that?" Just to be sure or something.
G'brion shrugs his shoulders and looks defensive. "I dunno, like - I could either leave, so I don't get so pissed off that Pterath freaks out, or I could sock him in the face. So I leave. Is that being a pussy?" he asks, with an edge to his tone. Pterath kind of recoils a little from the proper and considerate images. << That's not a game >> she says, a little bit appalled that anyone might think of that as being FUN.
A little overly amused by the younger green's reaction, instead Jeibeth shares one of her favorite visualizations. It's an alpine meadow, dotted with flowers of various colors. Her imagery is rich and luxurious and it shows somewhat more when the colors of the flowers change in a wave that follows a breeze. << It's a place that Xadovith and I enjoy. >> Clearly not a real place since flowers don't do that. "If you think it is, probably. Maybe you should just hit on him and see what he thinks of that. Some of those guys back off if you mess with them." Some of them beat you up. It's kind of a toss up.
G'brion at first looks annoyed, but a wicked grin appears on his face when B'tal makes his alternate suggestion. "I could try that. I bet that would really piss him off, he acts like he's such a smooth ladies' man, even though the girls can't stand him." Pterath tilts her head first to one side, then the other, considering the image Jeibeth presents carefully. << Oh, I wish I could go there >> she says wistfully. But then she does the next best thing, and dives in, examining everything closely from the flowers to the dirt itself. She adds herself to the image, little green Pterath, digging furiously with her paws to see what's beneat the soil. << Is there treasure? >> she asks.
"Maybe he'd even like it. Should let me know if he does," there's B'tal's own wicked little grin. Yes, he is such a stunning role model. At least that's pretty much where it ends instead of going on about anything that could lead to. Jeibeth holds the image strong for the other green, herself transposed into the meadow amongst the flowers to watch over. << Perhaps. I've never looked for treasure so if it was there, then it is still there. >>
"Ha," Gabe says, and smirks. "I could, but is Whit gonna break my nose again, then?" He's only partly joking. Pterath redoubles her efforts. << Iskiveth likes to hunt for treasure, and sometimes I help >> she explains. << You dig a hole until you find it, but we have never found any. Do you want to dig, too? You are bigger than I am and could dig a bigger hole. >>
His smile falters for a moment, then fades a little and he shakes his head. "I don't think he'd have to know. Especially not if we're just looking, you know. I look plenty that he doesn't know about." B'tal's smile is back, then, vaguely playful with dimples and everything. Jeibeth in the meadow moves so she can help with the digging. << Perhaps you can find some. >> Before Iskiveth, that is. Always nice to be first. << I'll help you. >> Which she does, with more enthusiasm now that it's not her own paws getting dirty.
[Monitor] Taikrin has connected.
"Oh - just looking, yeah, no reason he needs to know about that," Gabe agrees. "Well." A smirk. "I'll let you know what he does, then." Pterath digs with gusto, dirt flying everywhere, and she won't even need a bath after! << This is fun >> she says happily. << Do you know what treasure looks like? >> It's only just occurred to Pterath that she's never actually /seen/ any.
"Good." That's really all B'tal needs to say about that. Jeibeth is a little more careful with the dirt, methodical about what happens with it, but there's certainly nothing proper about playing in it. << I imagine it only depends on what you consider treasure. I have pillows that I treasure. And the flowers that my B'tal helps me grow. Those are my treasures. >>
Pterath thinks about that. What /does/ she treasure? Her rider, of course, but that's not good: he's not under the ground. << The pillows would be dirty >> she says uneasily << if we had to dig to get them. >> Maybe this isn't such a good game, after all. "So like," Gabe says, changing the subject, or trying to, "if I - I mean, if she was asleep, you know, and uh. Would it really matter THAT much? If she was, you know, asleep the whole time."
<< I don't dig for my pillows. Mine gets them for me. >> Jeibeth sees the problem with this but she produces something else. Something that her rider treasures and the shiny pocket watch can be found in the dirt beneath Pterath's paws. B'tal might not entirely see how this is a huge change in subject and he glances toward the pair of greens that seem to be focused well enough on each other. "Maybe not. But what if she woke up, you know? Like, I don't think Jeibeth ever would have actually cared. But," he shrugs, "it's a rule for a reason." He pauses, then, realizing that they might possibly be talking about different things, "Are you talking about just you or... help?"
"Someone else," Gabe clarifies. "Everyone uses their hand. Well, the guys. I don't, like, keep watch on the girls - but I bet they do, too." Girls can't be /that/ different, right? "I guess - I don't know, I feel like if she woke up then I could just tell her to go back to sleep. It's a rule and all, so I'm not going to break it I guess but - it's seriously annoying." Pterath squeals with glee and wriggles her tail and her whole body in excitement at finding the imaginary pocket watch. << It's treasure! I found it! >> she blasts happily.
"Right," says B'tal as that's what he originally figured. Everyone uses their hand. "They do. Some of them," he can say about the girls but he's not going to linger on that in particular because, well, he'd just rather not. "Were you really getting that much? From anyone that wasn't Whit." There's still a note of irritation about that incident but nothing that's going to keep B'tal from continuing the conversation. Jeibeth croons her delight in Pterath's findings. << It's very lovely treasure! >>
G'brion scowls at B'tal. "That was /once/, alright, could you get over it?" he says roughly. "I got whatever I wanted. /Not/ from him. Other people." So there. Pterath positively glows at Jeibeth. << You are fun to play with >> she declares. << I like you. >>
B'tal frowns and looks a little hurt for a handful of moments but then it's gone and the senior greenrider is glancing off in some other direction that has no Gabe in it. He doesn't offer any answer and there's something about the way he holds himself that suggests some small amount of shutting down. Jeibeth on the other hand is fairly beaming at the younger green and she assures, << I like you, too. >>
G'brion rolls his eyes dramatically. "Anyway," he says, "I told you - I don't even remember it. So it's not like I'm going to run off and try to sleep with him again, especially after he /broke my nose/ so just - why do you keep freaking out about that?" he demands. Pterath looks around to see why her rider is raising his voice, and croons, puzzled.
"Fuck you, I'm not /freaking out/ about anything." And the greenrider clearly doesn't appreciate the dramatic phrasing in any way, shape or form. B'tal doesn't just storm off, though. Not yet. He glances in the young green's direction, then at Jeibeth who offers her own soothing presence and a soft croon. << They're like that sometimes, >> she offers reassuringly. "Think I'm gonna go before she gets upset or anything. You don't need to be an asshole, though." Hey, it's even kind of like what Jeibeth was saying to Pterath except not so... proper. "Later," he turns to start heading off toward the caverns and his lifemate lingers behind for now.
"I'm not being an asshole!" Gabe says, throwing his hands up in frustration. "I'm just telling you - shells. Whatever. Fine." He turns and faces the other direction, though he doesn't actually walk off - he'd be leaving Pterath behind, too. She scuttles over to him and croons, leaning against his legs and wrapping her tail around his ankle, radiating soothing thoughts. << Sometimes, >> she agrees with Jeibeth, sadly. << I don't like it. He should not be... >> there aren't really words, so she just sends a burst of angry-sad-frustrated-stomachsick.
The frustrated protesting isn't enough to make B'tal stop. He keeps going and eventually disappears into the caverns. Jeibeth is left sitting back up onto her haunches and watching the junior pair carefully, still sharing her calmness. << Is he well? >> she asks, lowering her head somewhat closer to the weyrling like that might give her a better understanding. << Mine didn't mean to upset him, >> she offers apologetically. << He has a lot on his mind. >>
G'brion crouches down and loops an arm over Pterath, using his other hand to stroke her head gently, his back to Jeibeth. Pterath is still in touch, though. << He does this. But then it gets better >> she says. << Does yours hate him forever? >> That, obviously, is a borrowed thought.
<< No. Of course not. >> Beat. << I don't think so. >> There's affection in the next as Jeibeth speaks of her rider. << My B'tal is very forgiving. Too forgiving sometimes. >> He kind of has to be, right? << Everything will be okay. >> She believes that wholeheartedly whether there's any actual basis for truth to it. The larger green withdraws from the weyrling's proximity to a more proper distance and her gaze shifts toward where B'tal went inside. He never did take off her straps.
Pterath, at least, is relieved. << I will tell him. >> After a minute or two, the pair of them start off toward the weyrling barracks, though Pterath does look back over her shoulder at Jeibeth, just she once, as if making sure she's still there.
Jeibeth stays right where she is, attention turned back to the pair once they start moving back toward the barracks. She's here. And she'll always just be a thought away. That's the final suggestion her warm presence shares with Pterath.
She might come to regret that later, but for now Pterath is grateful, and polite, and manages to refrain from pestering Jeibeth with forty kazillion questions about whatever random thought just happened to cross her mind. For now.
OOC Date: April 2, 2010
IC Date: Day 15, month 5, turn 22 of Interval 10
Who: G'brion, B'tal, Pterath, Jeibeth
Where: HRW Bowl
G'brion has a talk with his mentor in which he learns a few things about straps, and gets some advice about dealing with G'stav. But then the conversation turns to sex, and things go downhill fast.
Having finished his chores for the afternoon, Gabe is out for a walk in the bowl with Pterath, his hands shoved into the pockets of his thin jacket. He's watching her as she waddles along, looking supremely content and relaxed.
"Stop moving around," B'tal nearly yells, sounding frustrated, from where he's perched on Jeibeth's back. He's adjusting straps that don't look quite so worn as they start tending to after use. They must be new. "I know you need to feel them, but doing that isn't helping right now." Jeibeth closes her eyes with a sigh and goes still while her rider continues his work.
Pterath lifts her head abruptly, and then barrels forward, trumpeting an excited greeting to Jeibeth. Gabe follows along at a more sedate pace, smiling at both green and rider when he arrives within hailing distance. "Hi B'tal, Jeibeth," he greets them. "New straps?"
This makes the whole being still thing fall apart, Jeibeth opening her head and arching her head around to look at the young dragon and her rider. There's a deep, warm rumble of greeting for the pair and she moves to face them with all her delicate grace that still makes B'tal sigh. "Hey, Gabe. Pterath. Yeah. Trying to be, at least." The older green lowers her head and a spicy puff of incense brings her mellow mindvoice, << Hello, young Pterath. Are you and yours well today? >>
"What're you doing to them?" Gabe asks, tipping his head up curiously to try to see what exactly B'tal is trying to accomplish up there. It's probably something he'll have to do eventually. Pterath warbles happily at Jeibeth, all buzzy and drippy and fragrant like the insects and moisture and foliage of a jungle or rainforest. << Yes! We are having a nice walk in the bowl, and THEN we're going to have a story. A new one that I haven't heard before! >> She practically thrums with excitement over that part.
"Just fitting," B'tal says but the tone of his voice suggests it's something more. He shakes his head, "She doesn't like the way it feels. What was it?" Beat. "Too stiff. I swear-- women." Jeibeth doesn't take offense, however, she adds unnecessarily to the younger dragon, << I like my old straps. They should feel the same. >> According to her, at least. << A story sounds lovely, though. Who will be telling you a story? >>
Pterath flashes an image of her rider - the awesome storyteller - in reply. << What do straps feel like? >> she asks, and without waiting for the answer, thrusts herself further in, trying to rummage in Jeibeth's mind for the answer in a way that would be quite rude in any but a very young dragon. "Oh, cool," Gabe says, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. "How do you make them less stiff? Or is it like boots, and you just have to suck it up until they're broken in?"
<< I'd very much like to hear a story told by yours, >> Jeibeth says so politely, tilting her head to eye the weyrling curiously. There's no sharp admonishment for this rummaging but the older green closes a curtain, all heavy, rich and luxurious fabrics, to keep Pterath from delving too deeply. A flicker of private candlelight seeks to redirect toward more proper behavior before she shares the feeling of straps and the subtle weight of the rider between her wings at the moment. "Oil mostly, I guess. Can just depend on the way they're treated initially. Don't know that much about making leather, I guess. But these are nicer." B'tal says the last more loudly and it's probably mostly directed at his lifemate.
"They look nice, on," Gabe says, and that compliment is directed as much at Jeibeth as at B'tal. "Oil. That's good, then, you can fix 'em so she's more comfortable." Pterath withdraws, though without much in the way of apology - there's a faint tang of resentment at being corrected, but the prospect of the story distracts her again. << His stories are good ones. They make good games to play, except we make them even more fun. >> 'We' being Pterath and the other weyrling dragons.
"Thanks," B'tal replies, probably for the pair of them. "Been working on 'em awhile. "Could line them, too, I guess." An out loud thought as the greenrider slides down off of Jeibeth's back so he's on the ground again. "What're you guys doing?" he asks, apparently not in the loop of what the dragons have been talking about. << I enjoy games. One of my favorites is chase. >> Although the feeling of air she offers along with that suggests flying.
"Oooh, yeah, with fluffy stuff, like a coat. Or maybe fur. I bet that would feel nice on dragon hide," Gabe says. He's not all /that/ interested in dragon straps, though, and happy enough for a change of subject. "Just out for a walk. And trying to think up a story, because Pterath wants me to tell her one, and I'm kind of all out of stories. I'll think of something, don't worry!" he adds hurriedly when she swings her head around to shoot him a draconic Look. << Chase, that sounds fun! It must be like Bite-him-on-the-tail. >> Which is played on the ground, but does involve chasing. In its ideal form, has only pretend biting, though accidents have been known to happen. << We played yesterday, and Liniath caught Balyeroth. >>
"Probably not much help," B'tal offers without a whole lot of apology for it as he looks at the small green. The way he looks at her is a little odd, but then he voices his thoughts, "It's hard to think Jeibeth was that small. I mean. I know she was. I remember it. But." Now she's not. He'll just have to trust Gabe to understand what he's saying. << Liniath must be very fast, >> says Jeibeth is a humoring but polite sort of amusement.
<< She is fast and I am clever >> Pterath says, radiating smugness. She shows Liniath how they converged on Balyeroth, and cut him off. It was all Pterath's idea! Gabe grins at B'tal. "Yeah. She's already like twice as big as when she hatched, which is just - weird, in a way. I kind of wish she'd stay little, and then part of me wishes she was just completely grown up already." Guess which part that is! "You know, some of us were talking the other day, and we were wondering. Do dragons, like - do their personalities change a lot, from the time when they're little until when they're grown up? Or are they basically the same?"
"I was eager for Jeibeth to just finish already." It's probably not difficult to figure out why. "Seemed like it took /forever/ for us to get our own weyrs. Thinking back now it really wasn't that long, I guess." B'tal shrugs. << Very clever, I can tell. >> Jeibeth sits back on her haunches carefully, her tail wrapping around her front legs, and she looks at Pterath as though she can see the clever on her. B'tal glances at his lifemate consideringly, then says as he looks back at G'brion, "They change, I think. Not a lot sometimes. Jeibeth has... relaxed a little, I think. She's all into," he gropes for a word, "Properness and stuff. Think she was worse when she was little."
"Yeah - right now it seems like forever but - it's really not." Gabe knows this, at least intellectually. "Properness? That's like completely opposite from Pterath. She's kind of wild. Maybe she won't be as wild when she grows up? Not that I really mind it," he says, sending a fond smile toward his green. Pterath puffs up with pride at Jeibeth's compliment, and flares her wings in a showing-off pose. << I want to be BIG and clever, >> she says. Like Jeibeth. << It must be so nice to be big. >>
"Think they just learn how to control themselves better. They learn what is and isn't acceptable." For the more part, at least. "The older dragons make sure of that as much as we do, I think." B'tal says the last with a grin and a glance between Jeibeth and Pterath. The former unfurls her shimmery wings in to echo the younger green's posing. << You will be. And it won't be very long at all, my B'tal says. I don't think being small would be so bad. You can fit places that I can't. >>
G'brion looks impressed by Jeibeth's pose - she /is/ pretty, just as B'tal claims. "Yeah, I think so. She gets fussed at sometimes by the weyrlingmaster dragons, for whining about stuff, and things. Then she complains to me and I'm like - well!" He laughs. "It's alright though, it means I don't have to always be the bad guy." He reaches down to rub at Pterath's headknobs affectionately. She pushes her head up against his hand, like a cat, and croons happily. << Yes, it is kind of fun, being small, but my rider doesn't let me fit into small places. He says when I get big, I might forget and try and do it again and break things, and then they would take his hide off. >> There's a faint tinge of worry, there - she's pretty sure he didn't mean /really-for-real/, and yet, the possibility is there...!
Of course she's pretty. She must know it, too, with the quiet confidence that she holds herself with. "Jeibeth never got in much trouble," B'tal muses back in remembrance. The green furls her wings back against her sides and arches her neck to bring her head down to her rider. "Too worried about being proper," he teases her. << One can never be too proper, >> she assures Pterath. << And I do not think it would be very proper of them to take his hide. We don't remember anyone ever having their hide taken. >>
<< I don't really care about proper >> Pterath informs Jeibeth carelessly. << It's too much time and trouble, and it makes it harder to DO things if you're always worried about proper. My G'brion worries about it sometimes but I told him he shouldn't. He usually knows the right thing anyway, so there is no point in worrying about it. >> It's all logical, to her. And there's a sense of grateful relief, at having her own hunch confirmed, that Gabe isn't /really/ going to lose his hide. "It's not trouble exactly," Gabe explains. "She just gets fussed at sometimes. We haven't gotten punished or anything... yet." That last part comes out in a dark tone, as if he suspects it's only a matter of time.
"Can't think of anyone that /really/ got in trouble or anything, though. S'all I'm saying. They're babies. It's just what they do. Testing boundaries, the ones that do that sort of thing. They get over it when they get older." B'tal isn't exactly learned in the way of putting these thoughts about little dragons out there and he only has his experiences to go on. << Being proper doesn't take anymore time than not being proper. It's just a matter of being respectful and considerate of those around you. >>
<< Yes it does >> Pterath argues back. << You have to sit and think, do they want me to do This or That, or maybe That or This, and you don't know, and you sit and thinkthinkthink some more, and really you should just DO things. >> It sounds like an argument that's well-worn, one she's made many times before. "Yeah. No, there's nothing wrong with her," Gabe agrees. "She is just like a baby. So it's fine. I was thinking more - some of the weyrlings are kind of assholes, and this one guy keeps trying to pick a fight with me."
<< I think, >> Jeibeth begins, the laugh beneath her voice the sound of wind chimes in a warm, spring breeze, << that you're giving this too much thought already, Pterath. >> B'tal looks at Gabe curiously, "Oh? What guy? Should tell someone." Which is to say, perhaps, someone that isn't him. Someone capable of doing something about it. "And you should tell someone if they make you uncomfortable. Bad for the dragons."
"I dunno, that's kind of like ratting, which is one of the reasons he's such a tool in the first place, actually," Gabe says, neglecting to mention the name of this mystery weyrling. "But he just never knows when to shut up about things. I guess I could just pop him one, he'd probably stop, then," he says, thoughtful. Pterath tilts her head at Jeibeth, then dissolves into sparkly draconic laughter. << Let's play a game >> she suggests.
"Fuck ratting. If people are going to be stupid, they can deal with the consequences." B'tal has feelings on this particular subject, apparently, but then he's shaking his head. "Who?" he asks again. "Don't think hitting is really the way to deal with anything." Which might be kind of a ridiculous concept considering where it's coming from. << What sort of game? >> asks the older green, lowering her fore down carefully so she's more on the other's level.
Pterath considers this question. << I like Bite-him-on-the-tail, but there are no blues to chase, >> she says, discarding that idea. << We could play I'm Yyth, and you're the mean boys, and I roar at you and you run away! >> That's her other favorite. She provides an image of how it presumably happened, suitably embellished of course, with one of the boys falling over in dying agonies after Yyth's mighty roar. G'brion blinks at B'tal, and seems unsure how to respond to the hitting part. "Well, not usually, but sometimes," he begins, and stops. "I dunno. Well, it's G'stav. Mainly he just runs his mouth. I just get tired of it, is all, and he needs to stop calling me a pussy and whatever."
Jeibeth doesn't seem to think these games sound quite as interesting as Pterath seems to think they sound. Instead she offers up some vibrant visualizations of being... proper and considerate of everyone else around them. It's so very dull that she can't really be serious. But she /seems/ serious. "Oh, right. He's cute." B'tal is easily distracted by these sorts of things. "Are you /being/ a pussy when he calls you that?" Just to be sure or something.
G'brion shrugs his shoulders and looks defensive. "I dunno, like - I could either leave, so I don't get so pissed off that Pterath freaks out, or I could sock him in the face. So I leave. Is that being a pussy?" he asks, with an edge to his tone. Pterath kind of recoils a little from the proper and considerate images. << That's not a game >> she says, a little bit appalled that anyone might think of that as being FUN.
A little overly amused by the younger green's reaction, instead Jeibeth shares one of her favorite visualizations. It's an alpine meadow, dotted with flowers of various colors. Her imagery is rich and luxurious and it shows somewhat more when the colors of the flowers change in a wave that follows a breeze. << It's a place that Xadovith and I enjoy. >> Clearly not a real place since flowers don't do that. "If you think it is, probably. Maybe you should just hit on him and see what he thinks of that. Some of those guys back off if you mess with them." Some of them beat you up. It's kind of a toss up.
G'brion at first looks annoyed, but a wicked grin appears on his face when B'tal makes his alternate suggestion. "I could try that. I bet that would really piss him off, he acts like he's such a smooth ladies' man, even though the girls can't stand him." Pterath tilts her head first to one side, then the other, considering the image Jeibeth presents carefully. << Oh, I wish I could go there >> she says wistfully. But then she does the next best thing, and dives in, examining everything closely from the flowers to the dirt itself. She adds herself to the image, little green Pterath, digging furiously with her paws to see what's beneat the soil. << Is there treasure? >> she asks.
"Maybe he'd even like it. Should let me know if he does," there's B'tal's own wicked little grin. Yes, he is such a stunning role model. At least that's pretty much where it ends instead of going on about anything that could lead to. Jeibeth holds the image strong for the other green, herself transposed into the meadow amongst the flowers to watch over. << Perhaps. I've never looked for treasure so if it was there, then it is still there. >>
"Ha," Gabe says, and smirks. "I could, but is Whit gonna break my nose again, then?" He's only partly joking. Pterath redoubles her efforts. << Iskiveth likes to hunt for treasure, and sometimes I help >> she explains. << You dig a hole until you find it, but we have never found any. Do you want to dig, too? You are bigger than I am and could dig a bigger hole. >>
His smile falters for a moment, then fades a little and he shakes his head. "I don't think he'd have to know. Especially not if we're just looking, you know. I look plenty that he doesn't know about." B'tal's smile is back, then, vaguely playful with dimples and everything. Jeibeth in the meadow moves so she can help with the digging. << Perhaps you can find some. >> Before Iskiveth, that is. Always nice to be first. << I'll help you. >> Which she does, with more enthusiasm now that it's not her own paws getting dirty.
[Monitor] Taikrin has connected.
"Oh - just looking, yeah, no reason he needs to know about that," Gabe agrees. "Well." A smirk. "I'll let you know what he does, then." Pterath digs with gusto, dirt flying everywhere, and she won't even need a bath after! << This is fun >> she says happily. << Do you know what treasure looks like? >> It's only just occurred to Pterath that she's never actually /seen/ any.
"Good." That's really all B'tal needs to say about that. Jeibeth is a little more careful with the dirt, methodical about what happens with it, but there's certainly nothing proper about playing in it. << I imagine it only depends on what you consider treasure. I have pillows that I treasure. And the flowers that my B'tal helps me grow. Those are my treasures. >>
Pterath thinks about that. What /does/ she treasure? Her rider, of course, but that's not good: he's not under the ground. << The pillows would be dirty >> she says uneasily << if we had to dig to get them. >> Maybe this isn't such a good game, after all. "So like," Gabe says, changing the subject, or trying to, "if I - I mean, if she was asleep, you know, and uh. Would it really matter THAT much? If she was, you know, asleep the whole time."
<< I don't dig for my pillows. Mine gets them for me. >> Jeibeth sees the problem with this but she produces something else. Something that her rider treasures and the shiny pocket watch can be found in the dirt beneath Pterath's paws. B'tal might not entirely see how this is a huge change in subject and he glances toward the pair of greens that seem to be focused well enough on each other. "Maybe not. But what if she woke up, you know? Like, I don't think Jeibeth ever would have actually cared. But," he shrugs, "it's a rule for a reason." He pauses, then, realizing that they might possibly be talking about different things, "Are you talking about just you or... help?"
"Someone else," Gabe clarifies. "Everyone uses their hand. Well, the guys. I don't, like, keep watch on the girls - but I bet they do, too." Girls can't be /that/ different, right? "I guess - I don't know, I feel like if she woke up then I could just tell her to go back to sleep. It's a rule and all, so I'm not going to break it I guess but - it's seriously annoying." Pterath squeals with glee and wriggles her tail and her whole body in excitement at finding the imaginary pocket watch. << It's treasure! I found it! >> she blasts happily.
"Right," says B'tal as that's what he originally figured. Everyone uses their hand. "They do. Some of them," he can say about the girls but he's not going to linger on that in particular because, well, he'd just rather not. "Were you really getting that much? From anyone that wasn't Whit." There's still a note of irritation about that incident but nothing that's going to keep B'tal from continuing the conversation. Jeibeth croons her delight in Pterath's findings. << It's very lovely treasure! >>
G'brion scowls at B'tal. "That was /once/, alright, could you get over it?" he says roughly. "I got whatever I wanted. /Not/ from him. Other people." So there. Pterath positively glows at Jeibeth. << You are fun to play with >> she declares. << I like you. >>
B'tal frowns and looks a little hurt for a handful of moments but then it's gone and the senior greenrider is glancing off in some other direction that has no Gabe in it. He doesn't offer any answer and there's something about the way he holds himself that suggests some small amount of shutting down. Jeibeth on the other hand is fairly beaming at the younger green and she assures, << I like you, too. >>
G'brion rolls his eyes dramatically. "Anyway," he says, "I told you - I don't even remember it. So it's not like I'm going to run off and try to sleep with him again, especially after he /broke my nose/ so just - why do you keep freaking out about that?" he demands. Pterath looks around to see why her rider is raising his voice, and croons, puzzled.
"Fuck you, I'm not /freaking out/ about anything." And the greenrider clearly doesn't appreciate the dramatic phrasing in any way, shape or form. B'tal doesn't just storm off, though. Not yet. He glances in the young green's direction, then at Jeibeth who offers her own soothing presence and a soft croon. << They're like that sometimes, >> she offers reassuringly. "Think I'm gonna go before she gets upset or anything. You don't need to be an asshole, though." Hey, it's even kind of like what Jeibeth was saying to Pterath except not so... proper. "Later," he turns to start heading off toward the caverns and his lifemate lingers behind for now.
"I'm not being an asshole!" Gabe says, throwing his hands up in frustration. "I'm just telling you - shells. Whatever. Fine." He turns and faces the other direction, though he doesn't actually walk off - he'd be leaving Pterath behind, too. She scuttles over to him and croons, leaning against his legs and wrapping her tail around his ankle, radiating soothing thoughts. << Sometimes, >> she agrees with Jeibeth, sadly. << I don't like it. He should not be... >> there aren't really words, so she just sends a burst of angry-sad-frustrated-stomachsick.
The frustrated protesting isn't enough to make B'tal stop. He keeps going and eventually disappears into the caverns. Jeibeth is left sitting back up onto her haunches and watching the junior pair carefully, still sharing her calmness. << Is he well? >> she asks, lowering her head somewhat closer to the weyrling like that might give her a better understanding. << Mine didn't mean to upset him, >> she offers apologetically. << He has a lot on his mind. >>
G'brion crouches down and loops an arm over Pterath, using his other hand to stroke her head gently, his back to Jeibeth. Pterath is still in touch, though. << He does this. But then it gets better >> she says. << Does yours hate him forever? >> That, obviously, is a borrowed thought.
<< No. Of course not. >> Beat. << I don't think so. >> There's affection in the next as Jeibeth speaks of her rider. << My B'tal is very forgiving. Too forgiving sometimes. >> He kind of has to be, right? << Everything will be okay. >> She believes that wholeheartedly whether there's any actual basis for truth to it. The larger green withdraws from the weyrling's proximity to a more proper distance and her gaze shifts toward where B'tal went inside. He never did take off her straps.
Pterath, at least, is relieved. << I will tell him. >> After a minute or two, the pair of them start off toward the weyrling barracks, though Pterath does look back over her shoulder at Jeibeth, just she once, as if making sure she's still there.
Jeibeth stays right where she is, attention turned back to the pair once they start moving back toward the barracks. She's here. And she'll always just be a thought away. That's the final suggestion her warm presence shares with Pterath.
She might come to regret that later, but for now Pterath is grateful, and polite, and manages to refrain from pestering Jeibeth with forty kazillion questions about whatever random thought just happened to cross her mind. For now.