Struck By Lightning

Participants:

Maura.jpg D'lan.jpg

Date: 6/4/2011
Location: Maura and Rikath's Weyr - Eastern Weyr
Synopsis: The start of Maura's grand plan to memorialize the deceased renegades turns. uh, memorable
Rating: PG18 for sexually suggestive content.
Logger: Maura

[ Maura and Rikath's Weyr ]

A study in contrast would be the best way to describe this cozy little cavern that has been set up. On one side is the smooth indent where Rikath sleeps, his riding straps and all the tools to fix or replace it stored in a simple wooden chest. He neither needs nor wants decor of any kind; preferring only the solitude of the privacy curtain that is sometimes swept across to give Maura the comfort of discretion against sudden visitors should she be sleeping.
Her portion of the room, however, is sisal and lace all over. The soft, silken, and feminine fabrics drape across the bed, and provide accent in shades of peach and violet to a dark wooden armoire, table, and set of two chairs. It's what looks like wrought iron that truly stands out amidst the frill, taking form in the shape of a wine holder filled with a few select vintages and fine glassware. There are also a number of tall pieces around the room meant to hold candles or glows for illumination.


Once Rikath has sent off her message - altered as he saw fit, obviously - Maura has juts been busying herself trying to get things just how she wants them in their new home. And for that she swept the curtain across to forestall snarky commentary from her lifemate. And to do all this it was a chance to divest of wearing leather in the muggy heat of Eastern; exchanging for a plain cotton wraparound and sandals. That low humming sound is her as well; though, she's got no idea what song she's working along to. Fortunate! Because given the company that they all keep, we also all know it's definitely not the kind of song a young lady should be singing, humming, or even thinking about.

Over the past turn D'lan has gotten quite used to Rikath's blunt mannerism. Wyncrath is no better for the response he'd sent had gone something along the lines of « Yeah, yeah, keep your hide on; we'll be there when we get there. » Real helpful. With a THWUMP, the brown plonks down onto the blue's ledge and…sprawls « We're here. » Duh. Fresh from the bathing caverns after having soaked off the heat and grime of the day, D'lan clad in lightweight black trousers and an open-necked white shirt, hits the ground with a thud of boots when he dismounts. Yeah, he's wearing boots. Old habits die hard. And no, there's no form of greeting from the brownrider other than a lazy grin and sly comment made to the song Maura's humming as he saunters on in without invitation or welcome to do so, "Does your mother know that you know that song?"

« Hey, -I- didn't want you here. » Rikath points out in his usual manner, eyeballing D'lan when he drops down from Wyncrath. « Can't you finish buttoning up that shirt? » SIGH. The blue is so put upon isn't he? For Maura's part, she doesn't seem to have a problem with the way the brownrider just saunters on in. Just looks up and over her shoulder with a welcoming smile. "Have a seat, handsome." She extends the invitation whilst in the midst of folding clothing to be put away. "Why would she have a problem with the song? Just something I picked up when we did that raid about 6 moons ago. Oh wait, it was U'rrem that started that one isn't it. Shit." And then of course she winces at he fact that she used a mild epithet. Let's hope that she isn't entirely hopeless. "Don't ever tell her. Right. So, nice of you to stop by so soon. I hope he didn't make it seem urgent or anything."

« You woke me up. » Wyncrath accuses. He also doesn't pass the message about buttoning shirts on to his rider and but rather sends Rikath a snort, « Some cheese with that wine? » A line he's picked up from his rider somewhere along the way. Rather than sit as directed, D'lan initially stays where he is, slap bang in the middle of Maura's 'boudoir', blue-eyed gaze taking in every detail, amusement tilting one side of his mouth up. The bluerider's mild cuss draws a grin into place and he takes a step in her direction, giving with low and entirely cunning intent, "Start cussing like a bad girl and people," such as him, "might take you for one." And then he's nonchalantly dropping into a chair, long legs extending out before him. "Very domestic," the brownrider comments as she bustles about, gaze openly on her butt and then a brow goes up for the summons given, "Was it?" urgent.

« Shut it, lazy. You're -always- sleeping. » Rikath fires back, showing teeth while he's at it. One has to wonder how terrible he'd be if it weren't for the claming influence of his rider. "Well, technically I -am- a criminal just like the rest of you." Maura points out, entirely unintimidated by D'lan's tone or approach. "Maybe I should start acting the part." She glances around with the accusation of domesticity, looking near taken aback by it for a moment. "Habit, I guess. I was raised and trained to be someone's wife, and nothing more, afterall. But the decor soothes me, what can I say." « Her parents should hung. » muses Rikath, obviously finding her idea of soothing gagworthy. And if the bluerider notices where gazes are focusing, she makes not a comment on it. Courage in the face of that sort of situation is definitely lacking. "Of course not. If it was urgent, I'd have hunted you both down." Finally shoving things into her armoire, she also reaches atop to pull down one of the bottles that seem to be lining it. "Benden Red. Rare vintage - now yours. But I need the bottle back when you're done with it. You /did/ mention wine the other day at the lake, yes? "

Harumph! That's all Rikath gets from Wyncrath. The sound stuck somewhere between a snort and a snore. Maura's comment draws a laughter to rumble in D'lan's chest and catch in his throat, blue eyed gaze flirting about her figure, "Act the part, hmm? And take away the Maura we've come to know and love? You're breaking my heart, sweetness." He finding it hard to imagine the bluerider as anything but the innocent that she presents as. Lounging with one booted ankle now set upon the knee of the opposing leg a smile tweaks at his mouth, "And is that what you wanted for yourself? To be someone's little woman and raise a brood of fat children?" sounding almost disparaging there. The wine presented, that however stalls jest and its quite plain to see the brownrider is impressed by its obvious quality. "I believe I said wine and fellis," smirking and then adding on, "I don't drink alone."

"Can anyone break your heart, D'lan? I doubt I'd have much chance at accomplishing that." The verbal parry is light-hearted, but accompanied by a raised eyebrow this time as it's hard to ignore his gaze when she's looking right at him. "Goodness, no. I just tried to make the best of things. Don't think my parents ever caught on to the fact that I learned a lot more from the Harper's then they wanted me to." The admittance is accompanied by a smile that could possibly be termed sly; but it's fleeting. "What, you didn't think innocent little Maura could pick a decent bottle of wine?" she drawls, turning briefly to pull down the bottle Maura's chosen for herself. It too looks like something far above the cheap swill that she notably never touches. "Can't say I know for certain what's in the amber bottle that's set aside for P'sec. But it's from Igen." And there it is - the color on her face that accompanies any conversation that reminds her of an ill-fated visit to the healer. "I'm afraid I've got no fellis. But I can provide a drinking partner if you want."

If Maura's comeback hits a mark, it's likely hard to tell behind that almost permanent easygoing smile he wears and he gives it no comment, tossing it aside to move onto the next. "Good girl," D'lan gives with approval, "No reason to be tying yourself down like that when there's a whole wide world out there to explore, right?" Amusement lights his blue-eyed regard, a thumb filing across his lower lip as he chooses his next words carefully, a few coming to mind and then being tossed aside until finally, "And what's innocent little Maura doing handing out bottles of expensive wine in the first place?" No snark in the gentle tease. The blush D'lan is very quick to pick up on but he misinterprets its origin, "Got a thing for the old man, huh?" amused. Offer of a drinking partner draws a grin into place.

"I'd just prefer to pick my own partner. Not have one chosen for me." Maura decides, addressing everything else except why she's handing out wine first. "Wait, what? A thing for the… for P'sec? And people call /me/ oblivious. No D'lan, I don't have a thing for him. He's a looker, no point in denying that. But that's not how I think of him." She seems quite sincere in that, really. And finally she pulls out two glasses to set on the table, along with something the smith's devised to get the cork out of those bottles a bit more easily. "Unless you're going to turn down my offer of a drinking partner, you wanna start pouring?" Not having sat down at all yet, it seems she's waiting to see that the brownrider is going to do. "I wanted to have something made, so I can remember the 18 of us that didn't make it. And it seemed fitting to drink to their memory and then crush the bottles so that I can have the colored glass used to make jewelry of some kind for myself." The words tumble out a bit nervously, since she knows it sounds… lame. At least to her own ears.

Oddly enough, Maura's reply has the brownrider sending her an odd look and then he utters a soft snort, "Best you let Rikath in on that one." Referencing flights but perhaps it won't be taken in the way its intended given the blue's protectiveness of his rider. A dubious smirk appears next, "Mmhm, and that blush was for…?" apparently not buying her story but also not looking too concerned about it either way. Standing to his feet when Maura produces glasses, D'lan can't but help a chuckle as he first takes up Maura's bottle and pours a measure into a glass. Holding it out to her, he starts in on his own and then stills, blue eyes lifting from the simple task and setting the young bluerider with a long and intent look when her explanation sinks home. The smile given is a faint one, laced with a hint of sorrow for comrades lost, "That's a mighty fine idea, Maura," sincere. Lifting his glass the toast is simple and quietly spoken, "To friends lost, but not forgotten."

Since Rikath has yet to even chase, just once, the remark truly flies right over Maura's head. She has no idea he's talking about flights there, and this winds up with a bit of a puzzled expression. "I.. just recalling my trip to the infirmary." she mumbles, hoping the words will be forgotten in the midst of explanations and toasts. Of course, her face colors again, a few shades more, when she's graced with the long and thoughtful look. "To friends lost, but not forgotten." she agrees, clinking the glasses together lightly and then taking a slow sip of the liquid hers holds. "Are you saying you don't believe my explanation?" she wonders next, apparently just clueing in that D'lan didn't buy her story.

"The infirmary?" D'lan's turn to look bemused not too sure how that ties into talk of choosing one's partners but he lets it go for the time being, attention cast to the reason that Maura had invited him over in the first place. Usually one to savour a good wine, especially one of such a fine vintage, the brownrider drains his glass in one go, an action that is more telling than the easygoing demeanour and silver tongue he hides behind. As he refills his glass, brows furrow, "Why wouldn't I believe you? Sounds like a perfectly good reason to drink and a good way to remember them." Not having followed her leap backwards in conversation there.

"My blush. The reason for it. It was because of my run-in with the healer." Good thing just one glass of wine doesn't go right to her head just yet, but it obviously loosens her up a bit, since she points to his chair. "Sit. Drinking while standing just seems dangerous." Plus, she caught how quickly he downed that one glass. She's not near as quick to follow, but refills once hers is halfway down anyway. "I meant, believe what I said regarding assertion that it's P'sec I've got my eye on." That produces a sudden, perhaps dangerous, bit of a smile. And she tries to catch up with the brownrider's drinking habits. Poor bastard is totaly going to regret stopping by.

"Ah," D'lan gets it now and then a chuckle lets loose, "What? He wanted you to get your clobber off or something?" Not sure how else she might be embarrassed by a healer. The second glass is at least not tossed down his throat like the first had been but is rather savoured in a more sedate fashion. "Ordering me about, hmm?" this as he indeed drops back into the chair he'd vacated, "Aren't you the bossy one?" amused, "I think I like that," teasing. With glass to lips, blue eyes lift to brown and his mouth quirks about the vessel in a hidden smile. Swallowing, he sets the glass to one knee, head tipped to one side as broad shoulders lift and fall in a shrug. "Sure, I believe you. Not my place to worry about who you have your eye on or not, Babydoll. So long as they're good to you." And then something occurs to D'lan, "Why does it matter what I think, hmm?" a possibly unsettling look put onto Maura as he takes another drink.

Maura pretends D'lan didn't just say that what he did about the healer, mostly because he's right and she's not abut to admit it. Instead… "Well sure. Now if I were at your place instead of you at mine, you could certainly feel free to do the same." Whether she'd listen or not is another matter entirely. The good and bad thing about drinking quickly is that it warms the blood swiftly, but it also loosens the tongue and the inhibitions just as fast. So she waits through his entire statement, glancing down into her glass to hide a sudden flash of unwarranted ire before his question sinks in. She hasn't even followed her own advice up until now, so is standing up for the moment. There's a funny look given out towards her ledge, and she pauses still for a few seconds, then meets the unsettling gaze. "You wanna know why?" No slurring yet, which is a good sign. "I think.. remembering our friends is reminding me that we should take what we want, when we want, instead of just thinking about it all the time." ALERT! ALERT! Rikat is, of course, quietly having a stroke over in his wallow. But one could also blame him for keeping her so wound up. So /he's/ not surprised when Maura leans over to cup D'lan's face in her hands and plant a solid kiss right on his lips. "There. Ignore -that-." Triumph will soon be replaced by embarassment, of course.

"Tell you to get your clobber off?" D'lan deliberately misinterprets through a wicked grin it obviously being his mission to see how many times he can get Maura to blush in one sitting. Second glass done with, a third is poured, the alcohol not having nearly the same swift effect on him as it does the bluerider. If he's aware of the look sent ledgeward, he gives no outward sign thereof simply lifting a brow and smirking at the question. "Why is that?" dare and challenge both set into those words. "I think," D'lan drawls lifting his glass as if toast to her ensuing words, "You're onto something there," lazy amusement cast across his expression. What comes next however, for all the teasing and baiting and attempts to get Maura to blush, is completely unexpected though it takes but a second of soft lips against his own before the brownrider's kissing her right back. When she breaks the kiss, D'lan sets her with a hooded gaze, blue eyes darkening with all the kinds of trouble that will take Rikath from stroke to heart attack if he were able to get inside the man's head. Slowly the brownrider unfolds himself from the chair, right up into Maura's personal space, "Ignorance, is not as they say, bliss," deep voice purring across the words.

Being as it's embarassingly easy to make Maura blush, his efforts are well rewarded with yet another. "/Yes/. Though he was rather more blunt about it." In a manner of speaking. Unfortunately, her deicsion to throw caution to the wind the way she has sort of prevents her from pouring herself a third glass of wine right away. And if D'lan is surprised by what she does, hell if she's not even more surprised by his response to it. Was that a whimper? It totally was. Because now he's all up in her personal space and she likes it. That, and she finds herself having to grab onto his arm to stay upright at the sudden movement. "No? It's not? What is, then?" The words are past her lips before even Rikath can try to stop them - and he surely does - while she refers to ignorance and bliss. The purring tone is, of course, her complete undoing. She's turning into Maura-putty.

"This," D'lan husks out in response and then wraps Maura up against himself and sets about kissing her in the way that would make a mother's toes curl, deepening it to breathless levels before scooping her up off her feet and carrying her to her bed. Amongst sisal and lace, experienced hands and gentle understanding guide and initiate so that come morning, there's likely to be one very annoyed blue pacing outside on the ledge when he finds his rider still sweet but far from innocent.



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