[Log] Just a matter of time
Who: Javeri, Avey, X'lar, P'traul
What: Dinner (or lack thereof) brings weyrling and bronzerider alike to the lower caverns. Idle conversation follows: Javeri is offended, Avey wants to talk about boys and X'lar's meatroll, and P'traul is not pudgy.
Where: Lower Cavern, Ista Weyr
The tail end of dinner has many people making their way from the living cavern. A few people are pushing against the tide having come in late for one reason or another. The noise level is not even that bad although there's a table in the corner that has all the signs of getting truly loud if just given enough time and encouragement to do so. The lines are the food table are nearly non-existent although there's still a bit of a wait for anything good. Javeri missed dinner, not always a weird thing, and so she's pushing against the crowd rather politely in an effort to get something to eat before all the good stuff is gone.
Avey rushes in, out of breath, and stops in relief when she sees that the food isn't entirely gone. "Good," she says to herself. "Not too late." She makes a beeline for the serving table, grabs herself a plate, and then gets in line for some roast.
P'traul's already fetched his plate, filled with not much but vegetables which he's still picking at here and there, his legs all tucked up beneath his body. He offers the occasional half-hearted glance towards that increasingly rowdy table, chewing at the side of his lip for the commotion, but for the most part his attention is fixed on his cooling meal.
"But I -have- that one, Xie," Lia calls out. "I wanted page 789." A pair of riders, both brown haired, both the same height, both from the same wing, walk together as they enter the living cavern. The pair of them seem to be trading hides amongst themselves on the move. "Oh..." X'lar can only reply back to his brunette wingmate. "Then here-" And with that, he shoves the entire stack of hides in his hands onto Lia which makes her roll her eyes. "Oh sure, saddle me with the re-organization of the hides," the greenrider remarks. "One word: Lemos." Lia's eyes widen considerably at the one word and quickly darts back out of the living cavern. Xie can only snicker and make his way to the food table, grabbing a hefty amount of mashed tubers and braised spiced shortribs. Toward the weyrlings, X'lar can only offer: "Wow, you guys are -hungry-."
Watching Avey rush by the former potter just blinks and shakes her head. Then she keeps heading for the table finding herself a spot before X'lar and then beginning to find cuts where she can. "Excuse me?" she asks a rider just picking over things. "Can I sneak past?" She smiles wide at the man and edges around him to grab at fruit and bread. She studies the rest of the food behind another back and not seeing anything tempting hops out of the line to go grab a mug of juice. Waiting in line? Not for her. She barely catches X'lar's words and says, "Missed dinner." Then she's looking for a spot to sit.
"It's cause we haven't eaten yet!" Avey answers cheerfully. She waits not-so-patiently in the roast line, and finally snags three thick slices for her plate, then darts around some people to grab bread and vegetables, too. "P'traul! Save us some seats, would you?" she calls over to the already-seated weyrling.
"It's all that -- oh, what it called. That horrid thing that we're doing now all the time. Oh, exercise. That's why," P'traul offers a bit wanly up to X'lar as he passes by, and then at Avey's request gallantly drapes his short-sleeved coat over the two seats next to him. "What were you doing, out and about and missing dinner?"
X'lar gives Javeri a brief grin before nodding once, saying, "Yeah, I gathered that. This is my second dinner, actually." No real embarrassment there from the gluttonous bronzerider. He glances to P'traul and barks out laughter. "Oh shells," X'lar asks the male weyrling. "You know what helps with that, P'traul?" He grabs at least two helpings of vegetables before snagging a cheeseroll last. He grins at Avey then asks the green weyrling, "Shells, Balinne's keeping you crazy busy huh?"
Since there is a seat saved Javeri plunks herself down at P'traul's table and then grins apologetically as she hauls his coat out from under her. "Oops. Sorry. And I wasn't doing anything." Nothing at all. She was doing so much nothing that she looks pointedly down at her plate and begins to peel an orange.
Avey carries her plate and glass over and flops down in the other saved seat. "More like /Leisath/ is," she says, pulling a face. "It takes like three days to bathe and oil her, she hates it so much. And /then/ she wanted to play! I told her I had to eat first so she's waiting outside. And poking me like every five seconds to see if I'm done yet." Her tone is good-natured, despite her dramatic grimacing and her complaints.
"If you say more exercise," P'traul grimaces down at his plate, nudging a browning stalk of something around with his fork before directing a rather helpless look upwards to the bronzerider, "I will /die/. Right here. It's bad enough dealing with the /heat/, you know, not to mention the -- running, and sweating, and -- huffing and /breathing/." He catches his coat back from Javeri with a nod for the girl, folding it away under his chair and chuckling softly to Avey. "But you can't say no, right? Since it's -- you know. /Her/."
"So you're all learning about your dragons' quirks, huh?" X'lar asks Avey while looking at the small table of the weyrlings. "I know how that is." And with that he plops himself in the last free seat at their table without asking. And he is conveniently sitting next to P'traul, who, at the male weyrling's initial remark, receives half his portion of veggies on the weyrling's plate. "Vegetables," he offers to P'traul, grinning. "Oh, and more exercise. Wait until you're running while holding a firestone sack above your head." He commences his eating, a fork sticking into the mashed tubers is the start of it.
"The exercise is not so bad. The running is boring as all get out, but swimming is fun. And P'draig said we'd be running on the beach. That's always fun!" The scenery potentials there are enough to make Javeri look forward to it. A section of orange gets popped into her mouth before she says, "Chadamalith is one big quirk. And I can tell him no." Looking at Avey she asks, "Doesn't it bother you with her always bugging you? I'd go crazy. Do you /ever/ get free time?"
"It's not /that/ hot out," Ista-bred Avey, lover of running, says to P'traul. "You should see when it REALLY heats up. And yeah, i get free time." She grins at Javeri. "I mean, she doesn't bug me like that all the time, she just really wants to play... Leisath!" she interrupts herself to say, frustrated. "No I am /not/ done eating yet would you please stop!" She makes a face at the other two weyrlings. "She's being a REAL pain today. But she doesn't usually do this," she adds, in her dragon's defense. She peers over at X'lar, as if dubious his dragon could ever do anything weird or annoying.
P'traul can't protest any more except to feebly wave his fork in X'lar's direction. "I /was/ eating them! This is just what's left ov--" but he exhales anyway, breaking off and spears something green and quite pointedly chews it. "There. Now I'll grow big and strong! Can you see the muscles yet?" The brownrider makes a fist, flexes his arm lightly across the table at the other weyrlings with a flash of a smile before his hands fall back into his lap and he leans out and around towards Avey. "The beach is -- sandy. And hot. It is sandy and hot and I don't like it one bit, thank you." His tone is joking enough, though he grimaces regardless.
"I got lucky in one respect," Xie tells the weyrlings. "Mal's a pretty individualistic dragon. With his own plan of attack, his own agenda. So, even as a weyrling, I had less to worry about him being clingy like Aidra and Yaj." He chuckles softly and admits, "If there was anyone who was clingy, it was actually me. I always ended up sleeping with him on his couch most nights in the first few months." He looks to Avey, spotting her look with a grin. "He pulled pranks. A lot of them. And I never seemed to learn. But more than that, he's superstitious. Malsaeth won't get oiled by a pot of oil that's been out more than three hours and 32 minutes. He can only fly after I've thumped him twice on both sides. And it was /much/ worse as a weyrling." He snickers a lot as he listens to P'traul, watching him flex. "Come find me sometime when you're alone, P'traul, and I'll show you what I did. I was /way/ pudgier than you when I started out." And there goes the shortribs. Mmm. "Shortribs," he can only say after another bite.
Javeri's eyes widen before she shakes her head. "So tell her to stop. Not us," she points out to Avey with a grin. "She's the one being annoying." Picking up a slice of bread she takes a bite from it and busies herself chewing for a bit. When P'traul flexes his muscles she grins at him. "Oh, yea, baby," she teases with a laugh. "And how can you hate the beach? It is the best! Clearly you don't know what fun can be had on a beach." She has another slice of orange and looks at X"lar's plate. "I can't stand meat anymore. Not after chopping it and handling it raw. I don't even want to look at it let alone eat it."
"More for me," Avey says happily, and takes a big bite of her roast. She chews and swallows before adding, "Javeri's right, though, Traul. I mean, you can lay out in the sun, you can run, you can play beachball, you can swim, you can build sandholds: what's not to like?" She takes another bite of food, and remarks to X'lar, "I can't decide if that's weirder than Leisath's thing about water and oiling, or not. But that's pretty weird."
Pudgy! Paul appears startled, and beyond that vaguely offended, at the very suggestion and he attacks his vegetable plate with a renewed vigour after nodding for X'lar's offer. He manages one bite -- two -- and then his fork is carefully set back next on the table and he shakes his head sharply, both at the vegetables and at the talk of the beach and maybe to hide that flush of his cheeks for Javeri's comment. "But it -- it gets /everywhere/. The sand. And it's sticky. And it's too hot. And I'm /terrible/ at beachball!" He exclaims this last with a sigh of exasperation. "Doesn't help in the least Yjimeth wants to go everywhere. Do everything. /Analyze/ it. Hmph." Then he tacks on, in afterthought: "And it smells like wet weeds. The beach."
"Hey," X'lar points to the shortribs with his fork, then pointing the fork to Javeri. "You get over it. It just becomes a part of you, really. And it gets worse when you start halfing and quartering the beasts. Then you get to watch them hunt. And Faranth knows I've seen Malsaeth hunt... The way he does it... it's... The most brutal thing I've ever seen in my life. No dragon I've seen has ever taunted, tormented and rendered beasts the way he does, Javeri." He picks up a shortrib with his finger now, licking it with the tip of his tongue before putting it back and using a fork like a civilized person. "But that doesn't stop me from eating meat," he concludes. At P'traul's remarks, the bronzerider can only laugh softly. "You just haven't been exposed properly to it yet, P'traul," he asks Traul. "Where are you from again?"
"Eww," is Javeri's response to X'lar and his meat. Shaking her head she has another piece of fruit. "It's gross." Looking at her plate she pushes it away. "I don't want to think about chopping up an animal and now it's too late and I think I might be sick." A weak stomach is clearly a disadvantage in her new life, but there's nothing to be done for it. She pushes food around on her plate rather than eat it.
Avey looks at P'traul and shakes her head, very sadly. "How /awful/ for you," she says mournfully. At X'lar's mention of Malsaeth's eating behavior, she frowns slightly, but her response is contrary to Javeri's: she takes another bite of roast. A /big/ one, one that takes her a while to chew.
P'traul finally unfolds himself properly from his chair, flattening his feet against the floor and readjusting his posture with a shuffle backward into his seat. He scratches lightly at his chin, answering X'lar with, "Black Crag Hold. It's about a three days' ride from Lemos, right in the middle of the -- you know." The boy gestures vaguely. "Mountains. Snow. Majestic cliffsides and all that. -- oh," paling a bit for Javeri's observation, Paul leans back in his seat, away from the bluerider. "Please don't. Then I will, too, and that would just be a very unpleasant situation." Then he says, for Avey's benefit: "I much prefer snow. It's much neater. Prettier, too, all white."
Avey laughs. "You impressed at the /wrong/ weyr," she tells P'traul.
"So," X'lar comments to Javeri. "That thing I told you to do, on the beach a sevenday ago, about that thing you wanted to do. Did it work?" Cryptic much? He chuckles softly at Avey's slower eating before returning his attention to the male weyrling at the table. "I like snow too. And the mountains. But I also love the beach as well. Which is why I do all the fishing, of course." Then, a question for Paul: "Do you not like fish either?"
"It worked," Javeri answers X'lar with a laugh. "And if that is your way of asking when I will do that other thing it's just a matter of time. Although the one part did not as he refused to cooperate." Letting out a sigh she stares at her plate and dares to reach for a piece of orange to nibble at cautiously. "I don't think I will be sick," she tells P'traul with a smile. "I promise if I feel that way to run away quickly."
"It's not as though I /planned/ on it," P'traul offers mildly, to Avey. "But Yjimeth was very insistant about the whole thing." He turns his head back and forth bemusedly between Javeri and X'lar for that enigmatic exchange but smiles and nods anyway. "I -- and probably most of everyone else, too -- do appreciate that. I, ah." On the topic of fish, "They're. I mean, not to touch? They're a touch slimey. To eat, naturally. It's still a treat! So far."
"What thing did you do?" Avey asks Javeri directly. She's nosy, and what's more, unrepentant about it. At P'traul, she rolls her eyes. "Fish are /not/ slimy once they're cooked. Not if the cook is any good!"
X'lar grins, pleased as he listens to Javeri's answer to his equally cryptic question. "Excellent," Xie comments. "And I wouldn't dare suggest /anything/. I know it's just a matter of time." He grins though, further to his comments, nodding once more to Jav. To P'traul he'll go on to say, "You probably wouldn't get as pudgy eating fish, so maybe eat more fish and less bubblies."
"Fish is best not cooked," Javeri offers to the conversation. "Cooking it just dries it out and ruins the flavor." Raw meat, gross, raw fish, gourmet. There are levels of animal clearly. "If we'd wanted you to know what we meant we wouldn't have spoken in code," she tells Avey with a grin. Some code. To X'lar she says, "Probably another day or two. Once we're sure we're adjusted to the new schedules and all. Chadamalith loves watching drills so maybe sometime when he is doing that."
There's that word again, and P'traul squirms in his seat before pronouncing firmly (if a bit petulantly): "I am not /pudgy/, sir." And he laces his fingers around his knee with a sigh. "Fine. More fish -- not raw, augh. More vegetables. More," here he pulls a face "exercise. Nothing I can't find in ample amounts around here." For the opaque conversation, Paul wrinkles his nose and offers -- "Something to do with dragons, obviously. What do you think, Avey? They're plotting our revenge while we sleep, maybe."
That just annoys Avey. "Then you could go talk about it somewhere else!" she huffs. "I mean, really. If you're going to talk in front of us you should share with everyone. And EW, fish is not either good raw, plus you can get sick and throw up." She glances at P'traul. "/I/ think she's talking about a boy, and she just doesn't want everyone to know because if Balinne found out she was snogging a boy she'd get in trouble." This doesn't account for how said snogging could happen at wing drills, but it's a theory!
"Fish is totally great raw," X'lar comments. "Seriously. You just slice it real thin, put some rice on it... Ooooh." He grins wide before going on to say, "Malsaeth would prefer meat, obviously. But I like all food." He picks up his shiny fork and gestures with it toward P'traul. "Don't make me fork you, weyrling. It's okay to be pudgy, really. I was the same way. I still am." He pokes at his love handles. "See? Man handles. That's what /meatrolls/ do." He grins once more at Javeri, nodding once more back to her code. "I'll have to remember that then. A couple days."
"Fish is definitely better raw. Exactly so!" X'lar gets a grin for agreeing with her because at least someone knows the merits of proper fish preparation. "Wrapped up and served with a hot spicy mustard. It's the best ever." Then Javeri blinks and stares at Avey. "Umm. if I were talking about a boy why would I talk to X'lar about it?" An aside to the bronzerider of, "No offense and all," before she looks back at Avey. "There's no boy. There are several men, but we're not doing anything. Sometimes I just see them at the beach and Balinne knows I go to the beach because she's seen me there. But feel free to run tattle if you want to be a kid because someone dared talk without telling you all it was." Shaking her head she finishes her juice and stands up. "Anyway good night, everyone. I'm going to go get some things done before I run out of time."
"Lots of available boys at wing drills," P'traul agrees with a nod for Avey and a quick, laughing flick of his eyes Javeri-ward, regardless of whatever she might be saying about it. "Doesn't even have to be just one boy." So it's decided then. Javeri's a snogger. He's still doubtful regarding raw fish, though he doesn't have much time to comment on it before he's defending himself against X'lar with wide-eyed shock and palms flat up and saying distractedly, "Good night, Javeri. Don't fork me X'lar, please!"
Avey rolls her eyes. "I am not going to tattle. But you were being rude, so pthhbbbt." She sticks her tongue out at Javeri, oh-so-maturely. Then she smirks at X'lar and P'traul. "Meatrolls and manhandles, huh? I was wondering when our human anatomy lesson was going to be!"
X'lar chuckles softly at Javeri, nodding once before the chuckling becomes outright laughter. "Oh shells," X'lar replies. "I have no right to give advice on being with anyone anyways. Seriously. I mean, the past couple of months has been ridiculously dramatic. I like my life drama free thanks." He lifts his shiny fork up in a wave to the weyrling, calling out, "See you in a couple days for that thing you talked about before, Javeri!" He grins wickedly back at P'traul, asking him: "Are you going to exercise more, then, P'traul?" At Avey's last exclamation, the teenager loses it again, laughing aloud.
Javeri manages a nod to the people at her former table and then picks up her plate to put up before she heads out of the living cavern. She has,it seems, nothing else to say.
Javeri has left.
For that wicked grin of X'lar, P'traul only has a faint one in return. "Not by choice, no. Not /yet/ anyway, until I start really dying while we're running laps. Or when my manhandles start flapping all over the place, hmm? Do yours?" He's all innocence and round-eyed curiosity. "Because, you know. That could be rather inconvenient."
"Or your meatroll," Avey says, and smiles sweetly, all innocence.
X'lar laughs again, shaking his head in amusement at both P'traul and Avey. "No one sees my... meatroll except for Lu, thank you very much." He chuckles once and gets up from his table. "If you could, P'traul," Xie calls out to the brown weyrling. "When you take your plate to the kitchen, please take mine." And with that, X'lar, too, heads out of the living cavern, chuckling under his breath. Evil? X'lar? Never!
X'lar has left.
Avey blinks ever so innocently at P'traul, suppressing laughter. "It /would/ be bad to have a floppy meatroll," she notes.
"Ah! A -- hmm. Yes." And it's P'traul's turn, too, to chuckle, the corner of his mouth turning upward into a little smirk, "Well." But then that expression fades quite quickly as he's left with plate duty. "What? Me?" It's nearly an affront! He stacks X'lar's plate atop his, anyway, with a rueful little moue towards Avey. "I bet /his/ meatroll's all floppy."
Avey giggles; she finds this whole conversation hilarious. "Could be," she says. "I wouldn't know... unfortunately. He's not bad looking. But, he's not as cute as Andy." Whose meatroll is probably of highest quality, but she doesn't remark on it.
P'traul turns right around in his seat in the direction to where X'lar had departed, squinting a bit as though he might still pick him out in the crowd. "You think he's attractive? Floppy meatroll and all?" Then: "Andy -- Andy. Does he have a proper name?" As opposed to, say, those shortened ones.
"Hey, he didn't /show/ us his meatroll," Avey points out. "Oh, Andy, he's An'dren. The bronzerider, you know? His bronze searched me, actually. He's really great! And cute, too." Wait, did she mention that already? Well, she just mentioned it again.
Paul lifts his hands in a way that says: hey, I was just sayin' is all, and afterwards primly knits his fingers together, as though just then remembering himself. "Naturally. We couldn't know. Javeri, though..." Was that a wink? It was hidden beneath that duck of his head, if so. "Oh -- uh. Can't say I've met him, myself, actually. I'll keep an eye out."
"Javeri's not that bad." Avey feels the need, now, to defend her fellow weyrlings. "And she doesn't kiss /everybody/, so you shouldn't spread rumors about her. That's not nice."
Hey -- they're P'traul's fellow weyrlings too. He blinks quickly for a moment, then quirks his brow; his shoulders lift before they drop again. "I was not spreading rumours, not intentionally. It's only you. That's different."
"Oh," Avey says, mollified. "Well, okay then." She changes the subject, and asks, "So, who do YOU like, or is there anyone?"
"Oh," Paul repeats, faintly, for Avey's question and for a moment he open and closes his mouth. "Ah. I don't believe so, not -- like /like/. I'm too busy with Yjimeth for -- that." But he returns: "And apart from An'dren? What about you?"
"Nobody particular, I mean, there's lots of cute guys, though," Avey says with a grin and a shrug. "You're even kind of cute," she adds slyly. "So, you know, I'm keeping my options open." A sage nod.
This time P'traul's blush is obvious if only tinging the very tips of his ears. "Well -- ah. Thank you, Avey. You're -- an attractive young woman yourself." And he swallows quite firmly, collecting the plates in front of him and shuffling them around, making a motion to stand as he licks at his lips.
"Thanks," Avey says cheerfully. "Well, I better go play with Leisath before she rips the walls down or something. See you later, P'traul!" She hops up and waves, and heads off, leaving her plate behind: hey, if he's already making the trip, he may as well carry hers, too, right?
P'traul sighs, plaintively, but balances it, too, on top of the rest as he faintly waves her off before picking his way through the bustle of the caverns into the kitchens. "'Bye, Avey."