Participants:
| Date: | 6/30/11 |
|---|---|
| Location: | P'sec's boring ol' weyr. |
| Synopsis: | Maura brings breakfast, conversation and hypocrisy ensue! |
| Rating: | If above PG-13, please note here. |
| Logger: | Maura |
Rikath, as we know, isn’t much fond of cheery greetings. Thus, the warning Abydoth has that the youngest renegade pair is paying a visit happens to be the moment he veers in for a landing and crunches his talons against the stone ledge. Maura climbs down the pale hide of her lifemate, a pack slung over her shoulder with containers of pastry and chopped up fruit therein. It’s once her feet touch ground that she calls into P’sec’s weyr. “I hope you’re dressed and you don’t have company old man, cause I only brought enough breakfast for the two of us!” Tweaking him like that makes her grin, and while she waits for a response she stops by the big bronze to offer an eyeridge scratch or a light hide pat.
Though big enough for Abydoth, the ledge isn't large as ledges go, which makes Rikath's presence a tight fit. P'sec could have chosen bigger from among the empty weyrs, but picked what was appropriate to a bachelor not expecting many visitors. Abydoth, lounging in the morning sun, obligingly shifts enough to allow Rikath to land and just as obligingly drops his head to Maura when she dismounts and approaches. Inside, his rider yells, "You're allowed in only if you stop calling me that. Otherwise, yes, I've got company!" In other words, yes, the coast is clear. Even after a hard Fall, P'sec doesn't lounge and linger in bed. He's seated on a rough wooden chair, leathers cascading over his lap, checking over the straps for signs of wear and tear. In fact, all of the furniture is rough and plain, the sort apportioned from stores rather than that lovingly selected and crafted to make a weyr into a home.
Maura smiles broadly as her needle hits the mark, and she even winks at Abydoth before she heads further inside the sparse weyr. “Go ahead and find somewhere to sun, Rikath. You’ll know when to get me.” So that the larger bronze can stretch out again. Because even if her blue isn’t concerned with niceties, his rider is. “Good Morning, aged sir.” She adds cheerfully, mischief apparent in both voice and expression as she avoids the hated words… and substitutes them for synonyms instead. “Maybe I should call you ‘hot stuff’ instead. Since you take exception to old man.” Oh yes, she’s in fine form. But at least she comes bearing gifts. The containers with breakfast set on the table with little fanfare. “Wow, don’t go all out on the décor or anything.”
"You can march yourself right back out the way you came," P'sec says, sounding dry as he looks up to greet his visitor. "Soon as you leave breakfast. What'd you bring?" He pushes the rest of the straps to the floor, leaving them for later, and goes to wash his hand in the stand-alone basin set up on a side table alongside a full water ewer. "It's fine," he adds a little defensively, looking over his shoulder at Maura as he dries his hands. "Don't go getting it into your head that it needs a woman's touch or something like that."
“Nuh uh. Not going anywheeeeeeeeere.” Maura taunts, a sly smile on her face. “Pastries, and fruit. Oh, and klah.” Belatedly, she pulls the thermos from her pack, setting it on the table and then letting the now empty carrier fall next to the table. “It’s fine. Yeah right. And you do realize that I never would have thought it needed a woman’s touch until you just told me not to get it into my head that it does.” Lalalalala. Her gaze darts around the confines of the bachelor pad, taking stock of the sheer unadulterated boredom contained within. “So, I was thinking.” Pause for dramatic effect. “Maybe it’d be nice if we all tried to get together like once a week or something. Cards, drinking… whatever. There’s five of us here now. “ And she is probably the *only* one out of the five who would even consider suggesting such an idea. Poor Maura.
P'sec replaces the hand towel, pulls down a couple mugs from the shelves nearby, and moves towards the table. "I'll move," he threatens without a trace of seriousness, reaching first for the thermos. "You take it straight?" He nods towards a chair while he pours out one mug and passes it to Maura before pouring klah for himself. Choosing sweet things over fruit, P'sec selects a pastry before sitting down again. "Maybe," he allows to her suggestion around a mouthful. "I could go for the occasional cardgame." Not a resounding yes, but not the no Maura may have expected.
Maura pulls out a chair and settles in, her smirk at the moving threat suggesting that she’s not taking it at all seriously no matter what tone of voice is being used. “I’ll find you.” Is replied, accompanied by a cheeky smile. “Yeah, just straight.” Is confirmed, her first sip taken like a dehydrated man might savor water. Klah is precious. Preciooouuuuuusssss. She goes for a bit of each from the food pile, not quite ready to eat yet though. “Really?” Yes, she’s surprised that there’s even a little wiggle room there about her suggestion. “Alright. I’ll see if I can talk everyone else into it.” Which means she’ll pull out every sneaky cute-face trick she knows in order to wrestle agreement out of the others. “Remember what I said about Zekoith having that allergy; problems breathing? Rii’s having trouble too. Being cagey about it.” Like she’s been, with the headaches. “Since /me/ nagging him would be hypocritical, I thought maybe I’d enlist your help in bugging the hell out of him until he sees the healer.”
"Good, because I haven't got any milk or sweetener." P'sec settles in, putting his bare feet on a third chair. He shrugs at her surprise. "Someone has to keep D'lan from cheating." The pastry is finished in short order and flaky crumbs licked off his fingers. With the edge off his hunger, he applies himself to the klah. "Seems like everyone came out with something or another," he says about Ch'rii, unsurprised until one of Maura's word choices has him raising his eyebrows ever so slightly. "Hypocritical?" P'sec repeats. Then, easily enlisted, "Yeah, I'll talk to him."
Grinning over the rim of her cup, Maura snorts first at the lack of sweetener (keeping milk in a weyr would just be odd) but especially at keeping D’lan from cheating. “He showed me how. Maybe we should all cheat.” The suggestion is only half serious; but who better than their little group to try and out-cheat each other at cards to determine a winner? “What’d you come out with, then?” Not recalling what ailment P’sec told them about, probably because he /didn’t/, she pauses before picking at another piece of redfruit. “Uhm.. well, took me awhile to see the Healer.” She points out, leaving out the part where she hasn’t gone back. “So, to bug someone else about it… “ See? Logical. “Thanks. I worry. Problems breathing seems pretty serious.”
"That does sound about right for us," P'sec agrees, sharing Maura's line of thinking. Cheating doesn't occasion even the smallest of frowns, especially if it's expected of the game. To her question, he answers offhandedly, truthful but not making much of it. "Just a bit of disorientation. We keep the betweening to a minimum to get our heads on straight." He reaches for the redfruit as well, selecting more than one bit to pop in his mouth at his leisure. "He should've seen someone already about that." Not entirely approving, P'sec.
“Disorientation? Like, the room spins?” Sorry, P. Now this is on Maura’s radar so she’s going to ask questions. He ought to know how nosy she is by now. “Well, he might have while he was at Igen. But, now that he’s here he should see someone here.” The bluerider reasons. “Maybe it’ll clear up when Zek’s does.” She adds hopefully. “I sure hope we’re not all dealing with these iceblood leftovers forever.” Now she bites into a pastry, slumped enough in her chair that she almost looks like a typical lazy near-twenty young rider. Almost. Her clothes are too neat and tidy to really fit the mold.
"It's under control," is all P'sec says, firmly enough to hopefully close the subject. He doesn't seem inclined to say anything more; much better to shift the focus. "I think it'll fade more once we stop crossing our own timelines so much. Have your headaches gotten better?"
“Is it?” Maura prods, her eyes narrowing a bit. Well, two can play at that game! “Sounds like we’ll need to go further into the past.” She murmurs, considering. However, she doesn’t at all answer his question about the headaches. Instead, just smiles as if she didn’t hear it at all; picking up empty containers. “Gotta start getting ready for drills and checking Rikath’s straps.” And as always, she stops to give the older rider a kiss on the cheek before skipping out!
"It's under control," P'sec repeats himself, calm and collected, not withering one bit under Maura's look. He moves to refill his klah, tipping out the last bit so it too is empty for Maura to take. "See you then. Thanks for breakfast." And, as always, he accepts the kiss graciously - not that he has any other choice - and watches her go with a small, tolerant smile.