Sick for a looooong time

Ch'rii.jpg Maura.jpg Meiglen.jpg V'kale.jpg Randi.jpg

Participants: Characters — PCs, NPCs, dragons! — in the log. Link to pages if desired.
IC Date: Day 8, Month 5, of Turn 3 in the Current Pass
OOC Date: 5/8/12
Location: Renegade Central - EW
Synopsis: Rii and Maura throw a party, and wind up with a couple of surprises! Big ones.
Rating: If above PG-13, please note here.
Posted by: Maura

What looks as if it was meant to be two separate weyrs, but wound up as one overly large living space, has been turned into as comfortable a home as can be achieved with volcanic rock. The two largest rooms have been separated with screens, the first one off the main entrance and larger dragon wallow being used as the living area. Or, party central. A set of comfortable couches are placed in a semi-circle formation to face an opening in the cliff face that can be used to look out at the jungles of the Southern continent. Or, closed off with a metal shutter for weather and threadfall. Along the curved wall that leads towards the second room someone has actually set up a bar service; bottles of liquor and wine and a display of glasses line shelves and racks; and then stop prior to the hearth that services both large rooms. An oversize table and chair set takes up most of the rooms balance, usually littered with game boards, puzzles, or a deck of cards thats been left out. And the plants. We cant forget the huge abundance of greenery that very nearly covers every bit of wall.


With the sun just now setting, people should finally be arriving at Zekoith's ledge for whatever excuse Ch'rii and Maura came up with to throw a party. Do they really need an excuse? Nooooo, of course not. But they have lots of alcohol. And have managed to sneak up quite a few snacks like meatrolls and pastries and whatnot; so all that's missing are people! And their money. The table is already set up for poker. Duh. For her part, Maura's done herself up all nice and pretty. Though she's more likely to be spending a lot of time serving drinks then actually doing anything really /fun/. That's just her!

Zekoith is actually out sleeping on that ledge. But he's not too disruptive, and politely allows a bunch of other dragons to land there without any difficulty at all; he's edged off to the side. Just so long as the dragons aren't gold — which is fine, really, because all Svaldirath has to do is drop Meiglen off and then depart again. Ch'rii is actually flipping poker chips with his thumbs and doing little tricks with them. "Wifey," he quips, "you're not a waitress. Relax."

"What is this wifey talk?" asks the brownrider from the Wrong Wing. V'kale is not late; he's right on time. But he came direct from flying a sweep, which is probably why he's treating his riding helmet with such fine respect and regard as to chuck it into a corner, making a beeline for the booze.

"Well that's nice of you to notice." Maura quips back, making a face at Ch'rii. But she does actually listen and folds herself down into one of the chairs nearby, And near the poker chips and cards. "If I'm not going to keep myself busy pouring alcohol, maybe I'll play this time - Hey V'kale." A bemused smile appears when he heads right for the booze. "Hey, would you mind bringing over the klah pitcher? Going to need some instead of this tea if I'll be up late enough to last through the festivities."

"Somehow," Ch'rii tells V'kale, as he watches the trajectory of the helmet and doesn't actually comment on it at all, "she hasn't actually killed me yet for calling her that, can you believe it? My tough as nuts feminist letting me call her wifey?" He's not specifying exactly what he means by 'nuts,' of course, or what kind of nuts they are.

Brazil nuts or the equivalent, one must assume; V'kale's eyebrows seem to assume so, anyway, as he comes back to the poker table with a large glass bottle of something lethal-smelling and the klah pitcher besides. (Glasses and mugs, of course, he's forgotten.) "Trouble sleeping, tough-as-nuts feminist friend?" is, therefore, both teasing Ch'rii and a question directed at Maura.

"Maybe I like everyone knowing that I'm your wife, which in turn means you're my husband. Well, theoretically speaking." That's right, Maura likes to stake her claim. Anyone have a problem with that? Anyone? No, she thought not. Plus, she secretly likes being called a tough-as-nuts feminist. Rar. Only, before she can comment on her sleping habits, she catches a whiff of the open klah pitcher and the alcohol and her stomach just /lurches/. Badly. Enough that she seems to turn a bit green around the edges. "Fuck's sake what -is- that." But, before anyone can answer her she bolts for uhm… the other ledge. The one attached to the sleping room so nobody has to actually see her lose her dinner.

"Nausea?" That's the contribution from Meiglen, who doesn't really have anything all that helpful to say. Her entrance was delayed by actual work, more than anything, though it did take some fancy footwork for Svaldirath not to end up on top of either Zekoith or Heloth. "I think nausea is what that is." She is completely ignoring V'kale, as is her nature, to go sit in an otherwise unclaimed chair.

Ch'rii stands up as Maura runs off, which is exactly simultaneous to Meiglen's entrance. His 'wifey,' as he puts it, is off stage ledge before he gets a chance to take off after her, though, so the brownrider just — sits again, after calling out, "Maura? You okay?" If he salutes Meiglen at all, it's lazy and abortive.

On silent wings - and for once, with a silent mind - Eastern's (and possibly Pern's) smallest gold slips down through the thermals above the bowl. Since the name of the game tonight is not attracting attention, she and her rider make for the smaller of the ledges attached to her destination. Party? What party? The little blonde that slides off her dragon to land in a half-crouch is here for work, but it's a uh, not-so-productive sound that catches her attention. "Maura?" she whispers into the darkness outside the weyr's entrance. "That you?"

"I think I'm going with nausea, too," V'kale observes faintly, surprised. He sniffs at the klah pot, JUST IN CASE, and then even tips it back to take a sip, and — "Nope, tastes fine, maybe a little cold," is thoughtful; the booze gets tasted rather more thoroughly, and also appears to pass muster. "She okay?" he hollers off after Ch'rii. He's not getting up, though. Tired? Lazy? Whatever.

« She's puking her guts out. Of course she's not /okay/ » Rikath answers for Maura, obviously, letting all and sundry who are visiting their little home partake in his irritation that his lifemate no longer has her dinner. Once she's heaved up that last bit of intestinal lining she feels so much better though! Or better enough to rest her forehead against the unmarred cool stone of the wall and groan. Nearly missing the whisper there's a double take before her eyes focus on the … wait, WTF? Is that Randi? "Oh shit, I'm halucinating again. RII!"

Dragon> To Rikath, Heloth, Kaseth, and Svaldirath, Zekoith is mostly asleep, but Rikath's woken him up enough for the brown to quip to those nearby, « Thank you /so/ much. »

Dragon> To Zekoith, Heloth, Kaseth, and Svaldirath, Rikath just growls. « If I have to suffer, so do the rest of you. Now she thiks she's hallucinating again. Great. » He doesn't even realize Kaseth and Randi really are there. So there's a real flare of panic there. « What was in that stupid pitcher anyway? »

"No," Ch'rii tells V'kale, though it's not because of the nausea so much as it is because of the dragons' conversation. Rikath's hinted to him that Maura apparently thinks she's hallucinating, and he doesn't seem pleased. "I'll be right back." And he's off toward the back ledge, the private little Rikath haven, to hope the blue doesn't actually bite him.

Meiglen doesn't, actually, say or do much of anything in the interim.

There's a familiar chuckle - breathy from the need to keep it quiet - behind Maura. "Not hallucinating, Rara, but - " There's a pause then, and anyone who could see in the dark would see the blank facial expression that means a dragon is interrupting events. "But sweet pissing shit-droppers I just might be." Because Kaseth is a Loudmouth. Reaching down to try and help her younger friend up, Randi fishes around in a pocket for a handkerchief, which she eventually finds. "Here. To ah, wipe your mouth with." Awkward Randi is awkward. And also in a touch of shock. Listening carefully just might pick up the sound of her brain processing this. Loudly.

Whew!!! Quite honestly, Maura's knees go weak with relief that she's *not* hallucinating. "Thank Faranth." Now, she can't see in the dark. But Rikath can. So he obviously starts paying attention now and stares intently at Randi. His tail smacks forcefully against his ledge in irritated demand. She knows something. He wants it. And no, he doesn't make snapping sounds with his teeth when Rii approaches. But the fact that his 'wifey' is being helped to a standing position and handed a handkercheif is obvious. "Thanks. Randi." The name is murmured in surprise. "What? What're you doing here?" And then… "Rii, I'm sorry. It's alright. I'm not… actually… it's just that I heard a voice and thought." Shrug.

Meanwhile, in meanwhile vision, inside and mostly ignoring what's going on outside as none of his business until someone tells him otherwise, V'kale… is staring at Meiglen. Eventually, because even he knows that's rude, he gets up and offers her the bottle of booze. Yes, that he's been drinking from directly. Whatever. "Drink, Weyrwoman?"

"— I'll take a water," says Meiglen, wry. She's well aware of what's going on outside; gossip between Svaldirath and Kaseth has been ongoing for at least a month, and so the smaller gold's arrival was, if a slight surprise to her, only a slight one. Doesn't mean she doesn't want a drink, but she's not too enthused about drinking right out of V'kale's bottle.

Ch'rii heads right over, not hesitating for a moment, to move to wrap an arm around Maura's shoulders. Regardless of Randi's presence. Which is causing his jaw to hang open as he moves over that way and attempts to pull Maura into a hug. He's forgetting to actually talk, as most of his brain has vacated for the time being.

Being disregarded for this hugging business, Randi takes a step backwards, folding her arms across her chest and watching the display with one raised brow. Rikath's demands aren't missed, either. She may not have her mother's and grandmother's gift, but she's known Rikath long enough at this point that it's really … unnecessary. "So, old boy," she murmurs, moving to lean against the blue and give his hide a fond rub. "Rii's the one responsible, huh?" There's a snort in the back of her throat as the overprotective instincts finally kick in through the shock. Tilting her head back, she regards Maura's dragon with a feral grin. "You wanna throw the first punch or can I?"

Maura, notably, puts up no fuss at all to be pulled into an embrace. If anything she kind of clings to Ch'rii for a moment; part shock because… OMG RANDI, and part relief that, you know, she's not hallucinating. And partly because she feels like she's just emptied her stomach out which she /totally/ has. And, it's Rii. « SHe may want to re-think the punch. Why does she want to punch him? What did he do? If he did something he shouldn't have I'll chew him up and spit him out myself, thanks. » This, directed towards Kaseth obviously, while Maura composes herself. "We have guests. We should go back in." Pause. "Wait, why would you want to hit him? He didn't put anything funny in the klah. You can't hit him!" Overprotectie meets overprotective?

Zekoith's own issue with the idea of punching Ch'rii is wordless; just displeased, and projected across to all the dragons, even poor Heloth who isn't really in the loop. "So I guess that's really you," snorts Ch'rii, with a crooked little grin. "If you're going to punch me for — actually, I don't know what you're going to punch me for. I was going to say for doing whatever-it-was to my own wife," great way to drop that bomb, right? "except I don't, actually, know what it was."

Dragon> To Heloth, Svaldirath, Zekoith, and Kaseth, Rikath puts his proverbal foot down; not for obvious reasons. « Nobody is going to hit Ch'rii. » he assures, since he is there and can see what's going on. « It would upset Maura. »

The more she thinks about it - and the more she hears - the less happy Randi is with this entire situation. Kaseth does, in fact, act as relay, tonight, letting her bonded sit and eavesdrop, so-to-speak. And she does, in turn, answer the question. « Partly because he apparently handfasted her, but mostly because it is his fault she is ill and will be so for a rather long time. » There's a brush of dry amusement in the tone pressed into Rikath's mind. "Bloody long time, indeed. And since when did riders get handfasted?" Growling under her breath - mostly because she expected to find an ally in Rikath - the prickly blonde woman edges past the Happy Couple and moves towards the entrance proper. "I need a sharding drink."

There is, at least, a man standing not far from the entrance, holding a Very Alcoholic Drink's bottle in one hand and poking halfheartedly at the table in an effort to find Meiglen's water. V'kale, apparently, is under the impression it's easier to do that if the alcohol content of his drink is lessened through consumption, of course.

« How is it his f…. » Yeah, he's not -the- brightest dragon. But when Rikath relays this clue to Maura, it's probably a good thing that Ch'rii still has an arm around her shoulder. Cause, uh, she almost falls again. This time it's her own expression that goes blank. "She's saying I'm pregnant. That's what you're saying, isn't it? You're saying I'm /pregnant/? How can I be… no wait, I know /how/. I mean…" She's in a fighting wing. That's not supposed to happen! "There's nothing wrong with having a ceremony if that's what we want. We're weyrmates, shardit. And what's wrong with -that-? We're both quite happy with the decision thank you." But maybe not the whole 'growing a baby thing'. Which, now, everyone in the other room knows about because she all but shouted the 'you're saying I'm pregnant' line.

Oh, well, that doesn't sound good — but ever the polite one, Meiglen stays silent. She'd rather just sit and talk to Randi, and maybe laugh at V'kale just a little, than get in the middle of the couples' drama. While she began to stand for about, oh, a second, she sits down again, lips pursed.

"Well, yeah," is Ch'rii's agreement. "It was when we decided we could. Not owning land means a marriage contract's not required, but both to satisfy her family and because honestly, it was one of the most fun things I've done in a long time — we kind of just did. Plus, there's no law that I can't call her my wife; the only reason riders don't marry is because of the fidelity clause in marriage contracts which, of course, most married couples ignore anyway —" He shrugs; it's logical to him. The pregnancy thing — isn't. Quite. "With all that betweening?" He's a little bewildered. "Miracle fertility? Also, not solely my fault, thank you. Reproductive responsibility belongs to both parties." He grew up with Eris.

Correction, V'kale had a bottle of Alcoholic Beverage. On her way into the weyr, Randi reaches out one hand like a tunnelsnake to grip the neck of said bottle. Obviously she's not worried about brownrider cooties. "Meg n' I have met." Swig. "Sorta." Flopping down into an empty chair near the poker table, she kicks up both booted feet onto another empty one and takes a rather defiant drink - if drinks can be defiant - while looking challengingly at Ch'rii. "You're almost 30 and she's barely 20. Tips that scale a touch, lad." Never let it be said that Randi doesn't know her riders, especially her 'gades. Not that she actually thinks Rii's any danger. Just. Grump. "Weyrmating's good enough for the rest of us." The little box of cards is picked up, examined and tossed towards V'kale. To make up for the loss of his bottle. "You deal, brownie." To Maura. "Who's he?" Because now she's cantankerous and not in any mood for the finer points of high society. Or, well, any society for that matter.

The long recital from her 'mate has Maura looking sidelong at him. "Just remember fidelity still applies outside of flights." she mutters, having the sudden image of herself in 7 months looking like a blimp. Maybe that's why she looks a bit pale again for a moment. "I guess so. With all that betweening." she adds, quiet. "And no, of course it's not solely your fault. I certainly don't recall complaining at any point." Probably not the sort of thing anyone else wants to hear, so she tries to appear a little more composed when they walk back out to the main room. "Sorry, V'kale. Meg. This is… a good friend of ours. She's like a sister to me. And she's been gone for awhile." Hopefully she's not cutting off the circulation in Rii's hand with that grip of hers either.

Maura obviously looks a bit red-faced and irritated when Randi points out that age difference, for the record. But since it's her… "That's V'kale." Then her eyes flick between Meg and Randi a bit suspiciously.

She didn't ask Ch'rii who V'kale was, she asked Maura, so — Ch'rii doesn't answer. "It's not necessarily good enough for Lord Holders, and in the interests of not making her parents or brother hate me," because her sister already hates him, "we did the whole ceremony thing. Back at the Market Block where I grew up," so they were wed by Lord Holdless, which definitely makes it the kind of thing Maura's parents would like, right, "and everybody had a good time. She started it, by the way." Their relationship, and thus also the age difference, is Maura's fault. Doesn't mean that he isn't kissing the bluerider on the top of her head anyway.

Meiglen actually stands up as Randi enters properly, to clap her hands together once before sitting down again. "Hey," she says, voice soft. "Sval said you might be by soon." Not that her lifemate gave her anything more specific; more likely than not, because Kaseth didn't feel suited to narrowing it down, and Meiglen isn't complaining. "Bring us a present, or just coming to say hi? Impart advice? Make her finally go proddy?"

V'kale coughs, twice, under his breath. But that's just because he has something in his throat, right? It doesn't have anything at ALL to do with the idea that he doesn't think Svaldirath needs outside HELP to go proddy! Oh no. Instead, he directs his attention to Randi. "So do you have a name, or a knot, or a — " He cuts off, there, with Heloth's belated help. "Name?" he finishes weakly, "Goldrider?"

"It was good enough for me, and good enough for you. And what we both wanted. That's all that matters." Maura finally finds her backbone again, which she initially thought might have been expelled off the side of her ledge. "Someone please take that pitcher of klah and dump it before I hurl again. Please." Pause. "Now." Plleeeeeeease. "And he's right. I did start it. So be mad at me or something if you want. But I'm really glad you're here?" she ventures, her tone slipping into that really sweet and innocent voice that most of them seem to find hard to resist. She's not above a little manipulation here. "Deal me in too, would you V'kale? And Ch'rii. If I have to stop drinking alcohol. And klah. I need to have at least /one/ vice for the next while." Making people uncomfortable makes /her/ uncomfortable so she tries to make everything normal again! It's just that her hands twist together nervously and she leans against Rii again for a moment with a nervous glance. He can't be happy with this news.

See, now, making people uncomfortable is a new hobby of Randi's. It's the guilty vice that makes up for the lack of real, lasting ties to any one time or place. "I'll be mad at whomever I please, actually. One of the perks of being older than I actually am." Another swig. "Storms, Meg-love. Bad ones, monsoon-strength. Don't know how you're gonna explain it, but you'd better start shoring up. Six months, tops." Because she's all full of rainbows and sunshine. V'kale gets a snort of laughter. "I did at one time, but my owner forgot to give me a proper collar - in case I got lost like this - and I daresay the rest'f them have forgot." Swig. "Now deal. Mmm." Holding up one finger, she stands and moves back out to Rikath's ledge, where Kaseth helpfully flies up where her bags can be reached. When she comes back, it's with a little crate that - even in her current mood - she handles with care. "Brought these, too, to hand out to the farmers and Steward and all that."

"Actually," says Meiglen, defending her own lack of standing up for Randi's rank, "I rather assumed you were happier without the title; her name, though, is Randi, I know that much." That last part is said while turned in V'kale's direction, and only after that does she return to looking at the other goldrider. Apparently, warnings about storms are exactly the kind of 'present' she was expecting — and an actual item, less so. "Let's see what the unexpected gift was, then — and thank you! The storm warnings I'll just — make the Starsmiths look smarter than they actually are. That'll make Ari happy, at least."

Ch'rii isn't — well, he's not ecstatic. He's a little tense. That doesn't mean he's not doing exactly what Maura needs and dumping the klah she suddenly can't stand the smell of. "Nothing actually wrong with it, for the record, except that it's cold," he adds, lightly, "and go ahead and let her play, Duv."

V'kale might be overwhelmed and bewildered and out of his depth, but — well, his poker face is fanTAStic, and his dealer's-hands almost as much so. He deals for everyone present, and two extra hands just in case. (Habit.) "Randi, then," he tries, and — as her last card is dealt — swipes his bottle back, too. "All bets in, now, if you're actually playing."

Fine! If Randi wants to be like that. Then Maura will just slip in to her old habit of being mouse-quiet and simply taking everything in. Just with a tense expression and refusing to look at the renegade's leader. "Thanks." she whispers at Rii, once he returns. It's a testament to just how much she's bottling up that she doesn't even notice that she had to be given -permission- to play. Wut? Rikath is, however, starting to show signs of pending doom. Like, whirling red in his eyes and a growing tendril of menace that wraps around aaaallll the other dragons. Lalalalala! Maura throws in a few chips for her bet. "Glad you could make it, Meg. If there's any messenging you need done between here at Landing, Rikath and I could fly it… you know, to prep for the storm."


To be continued…

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