Dragon Lullabye


Ch'rii.jpg Maura.jpg

Date: 7/2/11
Location: Eastern Weyr - Bar, and Lake
Synopsis: Sleepless riders, drinking and wandering.
Rating: If above PG-13, please note here.
Logger: Maura

Room Description if you wish

It's late. Really late. Well past the dinner hour and when most people have already filtered out of the bar for sleep. Everyone else here is either an insomniac or an addict of gambling or alcohol at this point. But, there is Maura at one of the corner tables with her usual glass of wine in one hand, and a book in the other. Whatever she's reading, she is paying pretty rapt attention to. And whatever she's drinking she has apparently been nursing for awhile since the glass is nearly empty.

"A book? Really?" The disembodied voice coming from behind Maura's head sounds suspiciously like Ch'rii's — and, lo and behold, those are Ch'rii's hands now on the bar in front of her, as he leans over her to try to see what the book is. "You came to a /bar/ to /read/? Why not just read at home? Or did your date stand you up?"

Maura is startled enough that she slaps the book closed and nearly spins right around on the bar stool. Except then she recognizes the voice. And look, Rii-hands! "Funny. Last time, when I was playing cards…" By herself. "D'lan gave me a hard time. Now you're giving me shit for reading." she drawls. And then, snorts back a laugh. "Me? A date? Now -that- is funny." She doesn't quite answer his question though, instead gesturing at the chair beside her. "Have a seat, unless you're passing through. As for the book, it's just some history thing. Plus, I /am/ drinking too." See? Wine.

"I just figure that if you're going to be trying to read, you take the drink back to your weyr. Bars are noisy." Ch'rii sits without actually saying anything about his reason for being there, and orders an extremely complicated cocktail once he gets the bartender's attention. "I can't imagine what the problem is with cards, though."

"Well, I don't want to be back at my quiet weyr." Maura replies, then asking the bartender for a refill on her drink. "So why are you here? Hot date?" Which causes her to glance around the bar and check for who might be sitting around. "Mm, well. That's easy. I was playing solitaire. And apparently only old people, or people with no lives do that." she points out, eyebrow raising just a bit at the fancy pants drink that Rii orders.

Ch'rii snorts. Actually. And then takes a cautious sampling of his drink — yep, it's okay, bartender gets a thumbs up. It also has steam coming out of it. This is clearly something made to drink hot. "I think I can keep living here," he declares, and then remembers what they were actually talking about. "Solitaire is actually good practice. If you can beat Solitaire you can beat most games. And I'm here because I wanted to make sure I didn't have to move. Needs good drinks."

Maura just eyes that drink as if it’s the devil itself. Steam? Her expression turns clearly skeptical, though she also has to laugh at the reason for being there. Really. “I guess that’s as good a reason as any.” She admits, seeming fairly bemused. “You get settled in yet? Or were you waiting to make sure about the drinks before you did anything crazy like bring in furniture.” The tone, dry, is clearly meant to tease.

"I have a bed. And Zeko has some trees." Ch'rii doesn't even bother rolling his eyes anymore. The dragon likes plants. So? "Other than that, I still need to go shopping. Have I mentioned my strong distaste for shopping?"

Trying her very best not to chortle at Rii’s predicament, Maura just lifts her glass to take another drink and mask her expression. “Trees. And a bed. Quaint.” She finally comments, turning enough now so that she can prop one elbow on the bar and lean forward a bit. “Maybe you dislike shopping so much because you prefer such a steep discount.” The bluerider suggests, merrily taunting away with impunity. “If you want help, I’ve no problem tagging along. If nothing else, I’m sure I could provide a constant stream of torment to keep your mind off of how much you hate shopping.”

Ch'rii makes a noise. It is not actually a snort, again, but it's not /quite/ a chortle. "It works for now. It's not like I /have/ much stuff so I'm not really feeling the lack of, say, bookshelves. And I'm /certain/ you could. Sip?" He holds out the hot booze thoughtfully.

"Bookshelves. That's a good idea." Maura decides, glancing over at the closed book that now rests on the bar. Fortunately she just grins at the tacit agreement that she'd be good at distraction torment; one can tell there's a comment right there on the tip of her tongue. But rather then voice it she narrows in on the offer of trying this hot drink thing that should have taken a minimum of five minutes to pronounce the ingredients of. "Sure, why not." Setting aside her glass she lifts the other drink out of Rii's hand and first looks inside as if trying to fathom how well she should brace herself. Then, sips.

It's strong. And tangy. And … alcoholic. But the most noticable thing about the drink is the kick to the chest that its heat and tang provide; if you couldn't breathe before, you can now! If you were breathing fine you might be coughing. Ch'rii grins. "See, that's what keeps my lungs going."

Maura goes so far as to grip the edge of her bar stool when the kick hits her. And she shoves the drink back at Rii so that it doesn't spill when the first cough comes out of her. "Are you crazy?" she wheezes, another cough escaping before she can pull in a decent breath of air. "Have you gone to the healer yet or not?" Forget letting P'sec give him a hard time. She'll just have to pretend she isn't a big hypocrite. "Because if that is what's keeping your lungs going, you /need/ to go talk to them."

More laughter from Ch'rii. "Of course! That's part of my treatment." He is, in fact, not lying. It may be hard to tell this simply because he /never/ looks like he's lying, but — it's the truth. "Opens up the, uh. Little … things. That make air go through. The tiny ones inside your lungs."

"-Shards-. What is it with healers and evil drinks." Maura wonders, shaking her head to try and clear the fumes. "Right. The little things. In the lungs." she agrees, pulling her wineglass back over and downing the rest of it. Alcohol that she is technically not even supposed to be drinking, so there's a briefly sheepish look to her face. "How often do you need the.. whatever it is."

At least Ch'rii does not actually /know/ that. Or he forgot. "Once a week, but I do actually like it. It's a great kick, and the taste, once you /can/ taste it, really grows on you." He is trying to get a better glimpse at her book, now.

Maura snorts disbelievingly. "I'll take your word for it. But, seriously doubtful here. I should make you try the brew I'm supposed to drink." Her expression is pretty comical there, even while she just slides the book over when it's obvious he's trying to get a look at it. "See, just history. Trying to bore myself into being tired enough to go back to sleep."

"I'd offer a lullabye but it's the dragon who hums, not me." Ch'rii sips his death drink. Ch'rii /enjoys/ his death drink. "And you seem to think I can read a lot better than I actually can! I mean, I can read the cover. The inside, probably not. We'd get to words that are irrelevant to my life pretty fast."

"If I thought a lullabye would work, I would invite Zekoith to try it." Maura admits, trying now just to lounge in a relaxed sort of pose on the chair. "I can't imagine all books would be irrelevant. If you wanted to read better, it wouldn't take much coaching. Assuming you wanted to anyway." There doesn't seem to be any judgement there in her tone; not all of the renegades had her relatively cushy life and she's well aware of that. And guilt makes her restless. "Feel like walking?"

Ch'rii shrugs. Apparently the answer is that he doesn't care: reading is sort of a give or take thing for him. He can read what he has to. "His hums aren't exactly melodic. They're more like ground-vibrating. But he tries." The thought of walking keeps his interest more than reading; he glances at his mostly-empty highball glass, swallows down the last gulp, leaves some money on the bar and says, "Why not."

Maura isn't going to push -that- issue, certainly. But she takes the book with her, and then slides the money for her drink across the bar as well. A brief smile given to the bartender, before she leads the way out towards the hallway. "That's kind of cute. I don't know any other dragons that try lullabyes. At least not yet." The idea ust makes her smile. "Rikath is -not- the type to try humming to soothe. He's just /there/, and that's normally enough." Away from the bar, she is apparently a bit more talkative. "But then, he's normally faster about waking me up too." Whatever that means. With the time of night that it is, there seem to be very few people passing in the halls. A few riders, a few drudges and cleaners and kitchen staff. But otherwise, quiet.

"Sli," Ch'rii begins to explain with no context at all as to what 'sli' means, "has nightmares. So Zekoith would try to help her sleep. It's a bit — weird. But he tries." Perhaps Sli is a relative; she is not a mysterious child. "Not so much with me. But I'm easy to conk out."

"Sli?" Maura prompts, latching on to that first. And then.. "How'd he manage to do that?" is next. "And if you're so easy to conk out, shouldn't you be sleeping right about now?" Their steps eventually take them out to the bowl, where she spies Rikath winging overhead to land somewhere Lakewards. Water is soothing. So, she continues leading in that direction at a slow pace.

"I'm not actually tired!" Ch'rii's sleep schedules: special. Very special. "And she — Sli — Charisli, my little sister — would sleep /on/ him. Apparently the huge vibrating dragon was actually soothing." He walks behind Maura, who is sort of walking behind Rikath, who may in fact be finding Zekoith already in the lake.

"Lucky for me, then." Maura decides, since it's much more fun to have company as an insomniac. "You often awake this time of night?" If he does not want to find himself with a late-night sidekick, now is probably the best time to lie. The way the questions are asked should make that soooooo obvious. She is intrigued by how Zekoith helped Sli sleep. But, as we all know that Rikath is not the snuggly sort, his snort of derision for her suggestion that she try that with the blue, can be heard all the way back to where they're walking. Much to her chagrin. "Nice." she mutters, mostly to herself. That snort also served as a greeting to Zek, apparently. « Enjoying the humidity? »

« Very much. » Zekoith is really just as much enjoying the /water/, which he is contentedly soaking in about halfway. His legs are wet. Most of his torso is not, and his tail is swishing and splashing about. "Frequently," Ch'rii does not lie, mostly because he doesn't feel like it — if he doesn't want company, he will just stay in his weyr. She's not going to break the door down, right? … Right?

Preferring to play sentry, Rikath just sprawls out near but not /in/ the water and curls his tail around himself lightly. And no, Maura does not break down anyone's door for anything. "Good thing drills aren't early in the morning then." is her only comment, after a few moments thought. Once they reach the lake she kneels down by the water to test the temperature, curious, since the brown is having a grand time there right now.

"I would just stay up if they were." Ch'rii is unconcerned with the temperature, expecting the answer to be 'warm,' and kicks his shoes off. Then he pulls his pant cuffs up just enough, and trundles out to where Zekoith is, hopping up on the resting brown's back to use him as a seat. "There's room for two up here, if you want." Zekoith? Snorts. And splashes Ch'rii. Watch out for the prehensile tail.

"And still function?" Maura wonders, sounding near indredulous. She kicks off her own shoes next, wading into the water after rulling up pant cuffs. And, obviously, pays no heed to prehensile tail because she's forgotten just how splashy the brown can be with it. "Sure, why not." Thus, she climbs up as well, and finds a comfortable spot to perch on. "He doesn't suddenly decide to jump up out of the water, does he?" /Now/ she gets suspicious.

Ch'rii looks extremely shifty before saying "… no," and then, "Really, he doesn't. I'm just playing." The dragon, as if catching on to the fact that Maura can't sleep — perhaps Rikath told him, or hinted somehow, or Ch'rii's boundaries are just not very good — starts to hum, low. It's not really a song, just a soothing noise. The bluerider does not get splashed. The blue? Well, he does. A little. Ch'rii is handling being damp with no complaint.

Maura casts a glare of doom Rii's way when he jokes about whether Zek plays mean tricks versus funny ones; which then turns into a smirk. She can't ever glare or even pretend to be mad very well. She has to actually BE mad for it to work. Rikath likely had no problems sharing with the brown what's been happening, because he seems to have decided that Zek is his partner in crime. Which doesn't bode well. The hum, such as it is, feels more like a bit of a rumble against the bluerider's hand while she rests there. And, it sparks her curiousity. "This what he used to do for your sister?" It would figure that she'd find the attempt, at least, enchanting. And, obligingly sort of curls up there in a resting state just looking out at the water. Also, Rikath projects a rude gesture for the splash of water his way.

Zekoith returns to his natural state of snorting, then lowers his head so he can blow bubbles. This is the entertainment method of a dragon who is inclined toward having a lot of children; /great/ for Eastern's bloodlines. "That's about it, yeah," Ch'rii agrees, "um, minus the … bubbles."

Maura laughs out loud when Zekoith starts to blow bubbles just for the hell of it. "But the blowing bubbles part is awesome." she protests, giving the brown hide an affectionate pat. "Hey, when are you going to show me card counting." The memory springs up from nowhere that this is a lesson waiting in the wings. And with her mind naturally whirring away on overtime, it will give her plenty of prompts for useless and nonsensical things to discuss in order to remain alert.

"When do you want? Probably not, uh, now. It's a little late." Ch'rii may be able to stay up all night, do his drills and sleep after, but actually teaching at such a late hour sounds insane. "It's basically all knowing how to add, though. Really is just counting." Zekoith's response to being patted is to simply swish his tail back and forth; no splashing.

"No, not now." Maura agrees, considering. "I'm not fussy. And, I have no life. So really… whenever you have time." And since she can count just fine, a non-comittal sound of agreement about the basics is made; apparently she is now busy seeing if Zekoith will tail-swish to timed pats. Because, this is amusing somehow. Or soothing. Perhaps the latter, since next time Rii looks over, there's one sleeping bluerider there. Just like that.

Apparently, Zekoith will. He seems pleased to be so amusing, even if to /him/ they should be asleep already. Ch'rii is trying to wipe the Zekoith-provided water off his face, finally. "You seem alive to me. Maybe after lunch."

« He's talking to a sleeping person. I hope he doesn't expect an answer from her. » Rikath points out, completely unconcerned by this new problem. « After lunch wil be fine. » he adds, not averse to making plans /for/ Maura if she's not awake to do so herself. His mindvoice seems quite distant however, despite physical proximity; most of his heft being directed at something else he's trying to accomplish.

Zekoith's laugh is only mental; further rumblings would likely wake Maura. « He does that, sometimes. Thinks perhaps they will hear them later. » The brown doesn't seem to take issue with the fact that they might be there for the rest of the night; Ch'rii laughs, and settles in against the dragon's neck for a nap, himself.

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