Of Philosophical discussions: rumors, riders, dating, duty, steam, and more.

[noleepackrat]

B'rakis
B'rakis is a young man that looks to be somewhere around 24 Turns old. His lightly tanned skin shows his fair complexion, even though he's had a few turns to get used to prolonged exposure to the Istan sun. Slight irregularity to the skin on his face is evidence that at one time, this rider had some very bad acne. He's not very tall, standing somewhere around 5'6" in height. He has a medium build, and while not bulky, he's well muscled from time spent taking care of his dragon and drills. Sun-tinted hair is a dark klah brown in color, and is neatly trimmed short, parted and combed to one side. His eyes are a rich hazel shade, and probably are his best feature. His voice is a pleasant baritone, and his demeanor is generally amiable and cheerful. He seems to favor his right leg slightly when he walks, moreso when he is tired. When he speaks, his accent indicates he is probably from Lemos originally, or thereabouts.

He's wearing a loose pair of dark blue undershorts, appropriate for modest swimming. They are pulled tight at his waist with a white cotton drawstring, and extend down his legs to about mid-thigh in length.

Cynara
Little more than a child, the woman's curves she is beginning to develop would place her in her early teens. Small in height and build, she barely tops five feet and would be considered 'petite' by most. Elfin features would seem even more delicate were it not for the deep tan that marks her skin. Around them, a riot of stubborn black curls falls, seeming to either not have been combed in days or to refuse to bow to the comb. Her best feature, perhaps, is her eyes, which are a startling, deep green, and sparkle with life and laughter.
Right now, she is dressed for work. Deep brown breeches and a white tunic, the sleeves long to protect her arms from Igen's sun. A black leather belt secures it at her waist. Black boots cover her feet. Around her neck is a string of mis-matched beads. She moves quickly and lithely, and her voice is a high soprano.
She would seem to be around 14 Turns, 5 months, and 29 days old.

Sunset at the beach: as the cool wind blows in from over the waters, the sallow sun slips below the wave-tossed sea that fades from green to black. The light of Rukbat washes the beach, the forests to your south, and the great black rock of the Weyr behind you in crimson light. The stars climb up over the Weyr and the plateau to your east, rising above the mist cast by the dancing waterfall that glows in a million firey rainbows. The black sands of the beach stretch for kilometres to the north and south, following the shoreline of the plateau. Below the pastel beauty of the blue-green sunset sky to the west, the dark smudges of the Ista Isles float on the sea, like the coils of some mythical monster.

The wet summer season oppresses the island with high humidity and sweltering temperatures.
To the northwest, a bridge arches over the stream. To the south, the beaches continue to where long docks stretch far into the bay.

Lirit sits upright slowly, brushing some of the sprayed sand from her clothes as she sighs. "Think I'm going t'go check on Essieth's clutch, see how they're shaping up" she muses. "Up for a trip to th'Sands, Ger? If no, I'll be going to get dinner soon enough. I'm starved....."

Lirit's question, then nods with a smile, "Sure, I haven't seen them since the clutching." he replies as he moves to stand. "Was good to see you, Weyrleader." he turns and smiles over to Cynara and Feralae, "Cynara, Feralae. I'll see folks later on perhaps."

"Eleketh, drop whatever it is, there's a lad" Lirit calls as she stands, stretching. "Shortcut" she grins at the Harper as her lifemate reluctantly leaves off investigating the wretched tentacled mess he's dragged up onto the beach.

Feralae walks up the long winding path to the top of the plateau.

From Eleketh's neck, Gerand clambers up after Lirit, reaching to strap himself in with a practiced series of motions.

From Eleketh's neck, Lirit waves to those on the beach, not even bothering to strap in before Eleketh takes flight.
Nolee winds her way slowly down from the plateau to approach the beach, struggling to catch her breath. She arrives just as Lirit and Eleketh are departing, nods breathlessly at their avoidance of the trek, and waves to the pair. "Evening," she brightly hails the rest, shading her eyes from the sun's rays.
Eleketh leaps up in a spray of sand and is borne aloft by the winds.

B'rakis gives Cynara a sidelong look, a grin on his face. "I'm obviously not on duty, and you don't appear to be on duty either, so you don't have to call me sir right at this moment, since I'm wearing swimshorts and not a knot and riding gear. But if you're more comfortable calling me 'sir', thats fine too." And then another girl walks up and he' offers her a wave from where he's sitting on the beach, "Evening."

Cynara nods. "At Igen," she notes, "We were supposed to call everyone who outranked us 'sir' or 'ma'am' all the time. Things seem a little more relaxed here." She waves to the departing green, then her eyes drift to Nolee. "I just need to get used to different protocols."

Nolee brushes sand off of her knees where indents indicate a recent fall, then repeats the process with her backside. This done, she slip-steps through the sand to put her back to the sun, bends to regard the seated man, stands to look at the elfin-featured girl. "He is wearing swim shorts. They'd be awfully funny with a knot on them. Maybe it's casual from the ocean breezes. Do they have ocean breezes at Igen?"

B'rakis suggests, "Maybe if I just had them embroidered into the fabric?" a wry grin on his face. "But yeah, we're pretty casual here. STill, it's whatever you're comfortable with. If I had about 30 more turns, maybe I'd feel more.. sir-ish or something. But as I'm not a geezer, I'm fine just being B'rakis for now." He inclines his head at the girl who's just come up, trying to place her. "Have we met?"

Cynara shakes her head to Nolee. "No, we have hot desert winds and cacti at Igen," she points out. "And very cold nights." She relaxes, finally. "B'rakis...I'm Cynara." Bronzerider isn't so bad. Weyrleader? She should /know/ who that is, and she looks a bit uncomfortable.

"Nolee," she supplies, brushing off her backside with a lack of awareness that anything might be amiss in manners with the action. "Embroidery would be an idea. But yours is complicated enough it might be heavy to wear. We haven't met with names, but I was behind a laundry basket when you the beastcraft boy was kicked out for hitting you." Misinformation persists. "Very cold nights? So no night swims. That would be hard to get used to, Cynara."

"Nice ta meetcha," B'rakis replies, smiling at both young women in turn. "Yeah Igen has cold nights, that's for sure. Still, at least it's not sweltering hot turn round. Personally I prefer a place with four real seasons, I love snow." Hazel eyes study Nolee for a moment, "Ahh yeah I remember. When Learan made Shimshon go back. I should check up on that, see how he's doing."

Cynara hrms. "No night swims, but plenty of evening or early morning ones, we have a good lake." She glances at the swimming dragon. "Never expected I'd ever end up here...I was thinking that I'd be grabbed for Qeturath's clutch, not this one."

"Nice to meetcha back," Nolee replies with a bob of her head and a small, clumsy pair of curtsies that looks a smidgen silly on a girl of fifteen. "More of that snow stuff. Do you walk on the solid-hard lake, too, or was that a story Mohria told me to see if I'd believe it?" Cynara's words draw Nolee's eyes to her knot, puzzled. "You're a candidate here, brought all the way from there? Did the dragon try to lick you? The others say that's what happened to them."

B'rakis grins, "I've walked on the lake before. Ice skated on the Telgar River too, though not in turns. Got into a snowball fight at High Reaches, that was the last big fun I had in the snow, earlier this turn."

Cynara laughs. "Sometimes they do that, some dragons like to grab the potential with their tails. The first time, the dragon sniffed me and did this sort of dance that looked really silly. Ayannath /kidnapped/ me."

"So walking on the frozen rain does happen." Nolee considers the source of the information, someone in swim trunks, and shakes her head. "And you throw it at each other. Frozen water cuts. Doesn't it hurt?" Her bovinish brown eyes open wide, slowly blinking at Cynara. "Kidnapped? Like by pirates?" The raising of one brow indicates a degree of skepticism, but interest in more.

Cynara shakes her head. "No, by Ayannath. A green dragon...and a really pretty one, too. And silly. She tricked me into mounting by begging for scritches and then tried to take off with me without waiting for her rider."

Nolee squints toward Cynara, then touches her own freckled arm, a revelation occuring. "Igen must be warm enough, cause you're tan, like me." She brushes at the tan, lightening by virtue of abandoned dirt flecks, at which she blithely smiles. "To take off with you, just like that? Were you scared?"

B'rakis looks a little confused, "Frozen ice cuts? No, ice *skates*. There theses shoes you wear on your feet that help you glide across the water... they have blades on teh bottom of them though..." Giving a slight shake of his head, he observes, "Maybe this is harder to explain than I thought." Cynara gets an interestd look. "If Tansith had done that when I was searched, I'd have wet my undershorts."

Cynara laughs. "A bit...I mean, I've ridden dragonback before, but I /thought/ she was playing a prank, and if she had been, the end of it was likely to be me in the lake with my clothes on. Some dragons just /love/ to dunk people.

Nolee turns her wide-eyed blink toward the Weyrleader, thinking hard about this bladed-shoes thing, unconvinced. She chooses to note, "Then it's good that you don't wear your knot there. It wouldn't be very respectful to have soaked it." Pushing back her humidity-puffed hair, she nods toward the water. "A few days back a weyrling pair was playing too hard that way, but they were okay. It'd be a long fall from dragonback, though, to the water. They're big."

B'rakis considers Xalerth, who's still wading in the shallows of the water. "I've never tried jumping off of him from the air, honestly. I bet it'd be fun. Big splash, at the very least. Still, I'm glad that he doesn't like to dunk me, I didnt know how to swim when I impressed."

Cynara hrms. "Well, she might not have dropped me. She might have landed in the water with me still on her or something. But I had to get the transport rider to bring my things...she wasn't going to let me go pack." She seems to have mixed feelings about the entire thing right now.

Nolee follows the direction of the Weyrleader's gaze, sizing up the bronze playing in the water with a worried expression. "Fun? That'd be like falling off of one of the spires down the waterfall. Fun, until you hit the bottom, maybe." She tries to be encouraging to Cynara, "If you can't swim either, I can teach you? You'll make friends here, and have lots of fish stew."

Aiemera walks down the high plateau, and arrives down on the beach after long minutes of hiking.

B'rakis gives Nolee a dubious look from where he's sitting on the sand, clad in swimshorts. His dragon is out wading in the water, slowly, seemingly without any purpose. "Fish stew. Yeah, that's a great way to help her feel welcome," he grins. "I'm personally loving how we're eating more wherry and caprine and ovine and everything else."

Cynara shakes her head. "I can swim," she notes a bit. She's sitting on the sand, talking with B'rakis and Nolee, and seeming somewhat relaxed. "And nothing's wrong with fish...what's wrong with fish stew?" she inquires of the Weyrleader. He's off duty and he told her to relax, so she's...trying.

Nolee stands near the pair, her backside dirty enough to indicate a recent slide down the steep path from above. "Really? I've noticed the extras on the table, and oh! The other day, a really terrifying hunter came from the jungle with a fresh bloody beast on some sticks. Do you think we'll all need to pitch in, with the fish dead and dying?" Putting her hands together, an innocent, "Nothing's wrong with it. We eat it a lot here."

Aiemera stands at that last stretch of the path leading to the beach, her progress now at a standstill in favor of deciding the best possible way down. The lure of voices finds her edging as close as she can to the edge, studying those present before fixing her hat upon her head and carefully, oh-so carefully picking her way down toward the beach. The going is slow, Aiemera half bent and using a hand to steady herself as she makes her way down.

B'rakis lifts a hand, "Nothing at all is wrong with fish, I like fish. But you gotta realize, for the past twelve turns I've lived here, I've had fish in sooo many ways. Fish stew, fish kabobs, fried fish, boiled fish, poached fish, pan seared fish, citron fish, and so on and so on.. it's nice to try other meats lots of different ways in the mean time, is all I'm saying. I think thats why I like hunting so much, I get to try other stuff."

Cynara hrms. "Well. I...grew up at Ista Hold, so I know about having fish all ways. But we almost never get it at Igen, so I've been missing it." The girl smiles a bit, then glances out at the ocean. "Hopefully whatever's killing the fish will stop soon?"

Nolee tries to keep count on her hands of how many kinds of fish, but gets started late so is off by some. "Steamed fish, leaf-wrapped fish, fish and eggs," she contributes, a hand raising to wave to the figure approaching through the sunset. "I'm not sure if it will stop soon, but he might know." Attention back to B'rakis, "Can you tell us about the volcano, or is it confound-ential?"

Aiemera continues picking her way down until at long last she's on the beach. With a cheerful wave back at Nolee, the girl heads toward the others. Her floppy brimmed hat tugged down as she goes, only half her face is visible when she finally approaches the small cluster of people. And yet names are known. For most of those gathered at least. "Weyrleader, sir-" A bow of her head, "Nolee... how're things?" A look toward Cynara displays Aiemera's unfamiliarity with the other, as does the small smile of greeting.

B'rakis lifts a hand toward Aiemera, "Just B'rakis please, unless you're reporting for duty. Though I suppose if you prefer to say Weyrleader sir instead, that's fine too." A slight shake of his head follows, "It's not confidential, it's just we don't really know a whole lot. See that cloud out there?" he points to fog of steam that's visible in the sky. "It's in the middle of that. We're only seeing and smelling so muhc of it cause its so close to Ista Weyr. The rest of the island seems fine."

Cynara hrms. "And I guess that we don't /know/ when it will stop smoking?" She glances at Aiemera, and responds with a smile, and "Hey. I'm Cynara." Her Candidate's knot should tell the entire story. "I was here for the clutching...I'm not sure if it's a good omen for the hatchlings or not. If they all end up with weird senses of humor, we'll know why."

Nolee leans toward Aiemera, getting close enough to confide, but barely manages, "He's off duty today, doesn't wear his knot on his shor--" before her head contacts the hat's brim, and she hushes, rubbing her eye. "Whoops, sorry." Still rubbing, she squints at the steam cloud beyond. "Things are good, except for that thing. Which is good as long as it isn't making fire."

Aiemera's expression lightens at Cynara's greeting, though just as quickly resumes a tense pull as talk of the volcano is heard. She opens her mouth to respond as well, but the hat bonking earns a small flinch and a hand raising to smooth out the brim of her hat. Nolee for her effort and words is given a cross-ways look, along with a small nod. "Habit's hard to break." An obscure comment all her own, met with a hand falling over the brim as she glances toward the steam cloud in question. "You know, I still think it's a bad sign. All this happening while the eggs are there. What if it gets worse?"

B'rakis frowns slightly, "It could stop tomorrow or it might not stop until the next Pass starts. You never can tell with volcanoes. Anyway, it's not nearly as big as the big volcano," here he gestures to the southeast, "so even if it does get worse... It's out in the water. It's annoying, and the smell gets to you every now and again. But really, the earth tremors are the worst part. I'm not worried bout the volcano, honestly.

Even if it blows totally, we'd just get ash, according to the records I've read. Maybe some spew, but we could just go into the lower caverns and avoid that too."
Cynara nods. "Ash would be hard to clean up. Maybe it's my fault. Last time I was Searched it was bugs, now it's volcano ash?" She glances out to sea again. "The eggs should be safe enough, right?"

Nolee, startled by Aiemera's talk, casts a sidelong glance to the Weyr's leader, worried. "You shouldn't criticize them, it could be bad luck," she tells her, voice pitched low, then raising along with a sudden realization. "But they're not his, or his dragon's, so maybe he--" her expression becomes delighted. "We'd be safe? Even inside? Wait, there were bugs? Where? Did you bring them with you?"

B'rakis nods, stating positively, "The eggs will be fine. What, you think Aerianth or Griere is gonna let anything happen to them? Faranth forbid anything have the audacity to mess up *her* clutch. Anyway, they're in a cave too, so are just as safe as anything here." He absently buries his toes in the black sand as he speaks, then regards Nolee, one eyebrow raised. "Maybe I what?"

Cynara nods. "Exactly...the hatching grounds are nicely covered. Nah, we'll just be sweeping up ash for sevendays," she predicts, almost cheerfully. "I need to go look at the eggs properly, I haven't had chance yet."

Nolee turns again to look at the steam cloud, her lips wringing up and twisting as she considers how to avoid or answer his question. "Maybe... you wouldn't care as much about them as you otherwise would, since if the volcano exploded all over the place it might get rid of the Telgar," her brows twitch, thinking. "Telgaran? Him. Except I'd rather not have to sweep ash. Have you ever had to, Cynara? Aiemera?"

Aiemera once more regards Nolee with a flash of surprise. One that ends as she glances toward B'rakis before hastily clearing her throat. "Sweeping ash isn't all that bad. Gets dirty and you can't breathe around it... gotta wear this thing 'round your mouth so you don't get sick..." Trailing off, she finds a spot on the beach and settles down, hands propped up on the sides of her knees and her chin rested upon her hands.

"You should," B'rakis says agreeably. "It's a fine clutch." He's on the verge of adding more when Nolee's words sink in, causing his back to stiffen and his normally amiable appearance to vanish. Hazel eyes glint ire as he states vehemently, "I'd never wish ill on a clutch of dragon eggs, or a dragon, or a rider either, for that matter. I don't want to get rid of V'lano."

Cynara narrows her eyes. "There's only one bronzerider on Pern I'd wish would go away, he's not here, and I wouldn't wish him hurt. Just not here." And, to her relief. He's /not/ here..that's one good thing about this.

Nolee shrugs helplessly, the 'well, he asked!' expression on her face, her fingers worrying lightly together when the man's posture alters notably. "Sounds horribly messy. And painful," to Aiemera, then, "Noooo, sir. Of course you wouldn't. It'd be unthinkable, absolutely." She nods for emphasis, slow and steady. "I just thought, since the girl stoking the fire said--well, no matter. I'm sure it was just the heat." And because her internal editor is in the off position, she asks Cynara, "which one?"

Aiemera simply ducks her head, unable to even look at B'rakis or Nolee as the candidate is rebuked. Though when it's safe to come up for air, she does, warily at best. "You know, I don't think she really meant it that way... I mean..." A slight, soft pause before she shakes her head, cutting another look toward Nolee before muttering something to the other beneath her breath.
Aiemera mutters to Nolee, "... not to..."
Aiemera whispers "Maybe it's better not to ask?"

A scowl is still on the young Weyrleader's face as he stares at Nolee. "The girl stoking the fire said what?" B'rakis asks, though his tone is slightly more calm. "You candidates are aware that rumors abound at a Weyr, and I can tell you right now, I think I've heard only one or two regarding me that were actually true." A thoughtful expression appears on his face, and he corrects, "Make that four."

Cynara laughs. "Oh, just D'som. Igen's resident idiot bronzerider. Thinks he's Faranth's gift to women, that kind of thing." She glances at B'rakis, who has shown no such trait.

Nolee decides the the far side of Cynara is a good place from which to view the playing dragons and the steam in the distance, despite the rapidly darkening night, though it seems to be more Aiemera's words that promted her movement than his. "Right, and I've heard that some bronzeriders are considered 'unsavory and smarmy' types, but that was just a rumor, for most of them appreciate 'polite behavior', right?" Nolee frowns Aiemera's direction: did that count as asking? "There's lots of boys like that. Even non-riders."

Aiemera laughs quietly, "It's better when they're not true. Or so they say." She gives a faintly apologetic look toward B'rakis before folding her arms across her knees, "I don't suppose people can help it though. Given everything." A thought spoken aloud without her realization, though Aiemera still shakes her head before pushing upward. Dusting herself off as she listens to Nolee, Aiemera is once more caught by the inability to hide her amusement. "She has a point... for the most part."

B'rakis is distracted from Nolee by Cynara's name dropping. "D'som. Even I've heard of him and I don't even live at Igen. He's one of *those* bronzeriders. You know, the ones your mothers warn you about?" A slight frown appears on his face, and he wonders, "Wait, do mothers really warn their daughters about bronzeriders?" His bad mood is fast disappating.

Cynara snorts. "Mine warned me about riders in general, she seems to be worried some rider's going to knock me up then leave me. She sort of stopped after the first time I got Searched, though. Guess she figured that insulting riders, even male ones, was a bad idea."

"They're certainly more fun when they're not true. The true ones can be hurtful." Another smile, this one light, Nolee musing on this topic. "But the false ones just make people laugh." A nod to B'rakis, "Fathers, too," then a gape at Cynara. "Did she tell you that?"

Aiemera gestures toward Cynara, "What she said. For the most part, I think. 'course, most girls I know go for the guys they're told not to go for. Defeats the entire point, usually." She sweeps a hand up, brushing it against her face before sweeping it behind her neck, "Come to think of it, my sisters only went for the guys mom told them not to go for." And such earns a small shake of her head before Aiemera takes a step back from the Weyrleader and the Candidates, "At any rate... I can't stand that smell and... well..." The mist. It was downright freaky. Waving goodbye, Aiemera turns and moves back up the steep path toward the weyr.

B'rakis coughs, hiding a smile at Cynara's words. "Your mother sounds like mine. She told me all goldriders were loose. I made sure to tell both Reye and Chayil that when I first came to the Ista. I was about eleven turns old though so I guess they both forgave me. Live and learn."

Cynara shrugs. "Well. I eventually came to realize there's nothing all that wrong with being loose if you're...honest about it, and don't go around breaking people's hearts. Just have to be truthful about what you want."

"Careful, the path is awfully steep," as Nolee's dirty knees can attest. "Maybe it's the different perspective people have. Like if you see a glass that's dirty on the outside, you can't tell if it's clean on the inside." The comparison logical to her, she laughs behind her hand. "It's funny that you told them, though, and Cynara just told you what her mum said. The same, only different."

B'rakis considers Cynara's words and shakes his head. "I don't see how people do that. I mean, how can you realy care for, or get really close to anyone when you're, well, sleeping with everyone? I guess if you're happy with it and your bedmates are too, well then," his shoulders roll in a shrug. "I couldn't live like that."

Cynara hrms thoughtfully. "I suppose if it's the way you are. I stood with a girl who would sleep with anyone. You can guess what color she Impressed, too." Ah, yes. Stereotypes.

Nolee rests her index finger in the dimple on her chin, following the conversation's flow and reflecting on their contrasting perspectives, the gregarious teen for once silent, the movement of her brows a comment on its own.

B'rakis hoists an eyebrow, regarding Cynara for a long moment. "Brown?" he finally guesses, utterly serious.

Cynara shakes her head. "Green. You'd think that the stereotype would be bucked just once, but no..."

Nolee looks back and forth between the pair, trying to figure out what the answer will be. "Do the dragons know when they're hatched if they want to pick a loose woman? Or man?"

B'rakis blinks with surprise. "It's been bucked dozens of times. WOuld you like to meet some examples?" he asks politely. Lifting his hands, "No one knows how the dragons pick who they pick. I think they pick whoever is the best match for them. THey just know. And if the cnadidate isn't on the sands, they will find them in the stands. I've never heard of a dragon that didn't Impress."

Cynara nods. "I'm guessing they have some way of instinctively assessing the candidate's personality and they pick the person they most want to spend their lives with."

Nolee digs her toes into the dark sand, startles, then frowns and shakes a shell from inside her sandal. "If people could do that, then no one would sleep with everyone, cause they'd just know the right person. Except for flights. Have you ever seen that, you two, someone picked out of the stands?"

B'rakis gives Cynara a sidelong look as it appears she says the exact same thing, she just uses words that are a lot bigger. "Yeah, that too." A slight shake of his head follows, "I'm not sure that's right either, Nolee. Cause there are some people who aren't content with just one person. I mean, they're not sleeping with a whole buncha people cause they're looking for one, they're sleeping with them all cause they like the.. variety."

Cynara shakes her head. "I haven't seen it. Heard about it, but not actually seen it myself." She shrugs a bit. "I've heard, too, of hatchlings leaving the grounds altogether 'cause they want somebody who's like...in the infirmary or something."

Nolee falls quiet again, the little wrinkles across her forehead deepening, crow's-feet forming around her eyes with her squint. "Relationships sound very complicated," she ventures, "between people and people, or people and dragons." Cynara's mention of the infirmary causes that wide-eyed panic to return. "Oh! The infirmary. I was supposed to go visit pop, he got the," she pats her stomach, "upsets. If you'll s'cuse me?"

B'rakis mutters, "That's the truth," in response to Nolee's observation about relationships. He rolls to his feet, standing up and ddusting black sand off himself before picking up his towel and giving it a shake. "Come on, Xalerth, I wanna clean off the stink before I go to bed," he calls at his dragon. "I havent' seen it either but it'd be real interesting Impressing like that. A total surprise. Not that I minded impressing the old fasioned way," he grins.

Cynara nods. "I'd better get back to the barracks. You know how early they make us get up." She glances at the dragon. "I don't think anyone minds Impressing. I get the impression that once the dragon's in your head, yuo can't really regret it."

Nolee repeats her awkward formal curtsy as someone must've taught her turns ago, "Good luck getting the scent off, sir, and well met, both of you. If you're thinking of home, Cynara, my cot's in the middle row, and I'm happy to listen and distract you. G'night!" Slow steps back up the path mark her exit, the non-shortcut way.

B'rakis waves to both of the candidates, "Alright, good night. And Nolee, just remmeber. Most rumors are just that.. rumors."