There's Always A Price To Be Paid

Participants:

D'lan.jpg Maura.jpg P'sec.jpg

Date: 6/5/2011
Location: Maura and Rikath's Weyr
Synopsis: D'lan is a douchebag, and P'sec gets to pick up the pieces when he leaves!
Rating: If above PG-13, please note here.
Logger: Maura

Two half-finished bottles of wine still sit open on the table, accompanied by half empty glasses that were just never finished. Unusual, since eeeeveryone knows how fussy Miss Maura is about keeping things neat and in their place. Worse is that she is so totally dead to the world that the sunlight streaming into the weyr hasn't so much as budged an eyelid. That, or she,s pretending not to be awake. Or maybe she just can't move - given that she's entirely too tangled up in sheets and… D'lan? Yep, totally draped across him. Clothes are scattered everywhere, if that weren't clue enough.

There's also a very much awake Rikath fuming out on the ledge too; quietly, silently scheming. And if in fact Abydoth gives any warning before he comes on over, the blue will enjoy himself far too much by almost cheerfully replying. « Perfect timing! Come on in, don't bother announcing your arrival. »

Two dead-to-the-world 'corpses', one bed. It goes without saying that the pair are likely late for drills or…something given that the sun is already up. It's Wyncrath that provides warning, nudging and poking at his rider's mind, « Incoming! » then turning the strong scent of redwort to the blue, « No one likes a tattle-tale. » And as for D'lan? There's a low groan as he turns his head and the sunlight hits him square in the face. An eyelid cracks open. Not his weyr. The other eye opens. Warm soft body draped over his? Oh nice, veeery nice. Sisal and lace in peach and violet, dark brown hair and a flash of blue hide out on the ledge. Oh shit! Maura's weyr. More importantly, that's Maura sprawled across him. Slowly but surely bits and pieces of the night before come filtering back and it's a low and totally unapologetic chuckle that rumbles in his chest.

Rikath did say to get their asses over there. After projecting an image of his imminent arrival, Abydoth sets himself down on the blue's ledge with the careful spread of his wings, head swiveling round to pin Rikath with a long, hard stare. The bronze doesn't respond - but when does he ever? - so perhaps, just perhaps, the message was passed on. But. Either Abydoth doesn't play nice, or P'sec is just too nice and ingrained manners have him calling towards the interior of the weyr, "Morning." He does spare a look for Wyncrath, but, given the nature of the summons, nothing suspicious crosses his expression. Yet.

« Aren't you supposed to be sleeping again? » Rikath's first plan, ruined. Stupid Wyncrath. The guileless vibes he sends back Abydoth's way would rouse suspicious from any creature above an I.Q. of 1 however, so he settles back and waits this out. So it's the combination of her pillow moving, sunlight registering, and Rikath's uncharacteristic amusement at her expense that /finally/ rouses Maura to some semblance of consciousness. Then P'sec's voice filter's in and her brow furrows, even half asleep. There's something about this situation that… *groan* "But I don't wanna move." she whispers, mostly to herself. "Do I have to move? Tell me I don't have to move." That her hand slides across another actual person when she tries to rub sleep out of her eyes gives her pause. And when *that* registers she just turns multi-layered shakes of red. "Go away, come back later." Yeah, that won't sound suspicious at ALL to the bronzerider.

D'lan despite having his eyes open, is more than a little sleep befuddled so he doesn't correctly interpret Wyncrath's warning, neither is he immediately aware of the bronze pair's arrival. Besides which, there's a cute bluerider that moving about on top of him, "Not what you said last night. Bugger!" That's when P'sec's greeting fully registers but the brownrider couldn't be arsed to try and pretend he's not there. Not with that brown lump of his sprawled on the ledge beyond. Instead the fingers of the hand attached to the arm that is slung across Maura's shoulders dip downward and tickle lightly, "Wakey, wakey, Babydoll. You got a visitor." Because it's not hisweyr right?

Abydoth believes Rikath not for a second. The derisiveness of his snort is amplified in the mind. P'sec, paused at the entrance, glances back over his shoulder at the two dragons that aren't his as Maura's voice reaches his ears. Quickly, very quickly, the bronzerider puts two and two together. Answering, though, his tone remains politely baffled. "Why? You said it was urgent. Are you sure you're alright?" Outside, P'sec is grinning. Maniacally.

"I don't recall doing much /talking/ at all, actually." That reply would likely not usually make it past her lips if she were thinking clearly. But, she's not! So Maura's filter is substantially missing. And then, "What visitor, I told 'im to go away." She doesn't bother trying to shove that hand away. Though when P'sec decides to play hardball, a drawn out sigh escapes. "Don't think you're getting out of here yet, handsome." is muttered while she tries fumbling around for something to put on - and it winds up being D'lan's shirt because it's the first thing she can reach. "I did not say it was urgent. Rikath… the little f… yes, I'm -fine-. What part of go away didn't you hear?" Stallliiiiiiiing.

D'lan's mouth tips about a grin for Maura's words, voice still thick with sleep and husky, "They call it body language," wink. As Maura moves, so he sort of starts to make an effort to do so, stretching like some great big feline and then rubbing a hand through his hair as he rolls up into a sitting position. "That's a good look for you," his shirt on her, low laughter greeting comment that indicates he is now apparently the bluerider's prisoner. Not that he's complaining too loudly. Casting about his gaze finally pinpoints where his trousers had ended up and without a care for nudity, comfortable in his own skin he saunters over and picks them up. "She's just fine, old man. Nothing to see here," which of course means there is but hey, his brain hasn't quite kicked into gear either.

"What part of what?" P'sec calls back, trying to at least look like he's not busting up an underage tryst as he gets a response from Maura inside. "I didn't hear anything." He plays dumb until he hears D'lan. At least he doesn't see him, still staying where he is on the ledge. "Maura, do I need to kick his ass for you?" A pause. "D'lan, do I need to kick your ass for you?"

"Like it? It's how I plan to keep you here till I'm done with you." Maura replies, trying to find some humor in the situation. Not that D'lan hs any qualms about wandering the Weyr shirtless. "Psst. Calling him old man isn't likely to…" Ah, there's the offer of violence. Right on cue. One that she has to stifle a giggle against. "I don't know, D'lan. Does he need to kick your ass for you?" she wonders, head tilted as she regards the brownrider getting half dressed. And with dignity already abandoned, she leans up to give the man a quick kiss regardless of her imminent visitor. "Well since you aren't going to go away, you may as well come on in. And no, you don't need to kick anyone's ass." Breakfast, this morning, is apparently going to be what's left of the wine because she's sure already pouring herself some. Going to need it.

Buttoning up his trousers, D'lan sends Maura an amused look, "You think I've got a problem with walking out of here butt naked?" tone suggesting he's done it before. "But I wouldn't want to scar him for life." The him being P'sec and then he utters a snort and lifts his voice so that it carries, "You have to catch me first," the amusement easy to find in his voice. The kiss is returned in kind, a smile curving lips against the blueriders and then he's stepping away and sprawling into one of the chairs as if he owns the joint. "We miss drills yet?" hopefully asked of the bronzerider whether he enters or not.

P'sec enters cautiously, looking as if it maybe wasn't such a good idea. Maura in D'lan's shirt just makes him look more dubious. "I should go," he starts up, jerking his thumb back behind him and half-turning away. The teasing was all well and good, but now the man's starting to look rather uncomfortable about barging in on Maura and D'lan's little domestic scene. "Drills are in the afternoon. Plenty of, um. Time."
GAME: Save complete.

"I'd dare you, but…" But, P'sec's discomfort when he walks in is apparently enough of a distraction. "Don't be an idiot, P'sec. Just sit down." Maura's tone contains the eyeroll that goes unseen when she turns her back on the two men. And now she's starting to look uncomfortable because he's uncomfortable. Oh what a vicious circle it can be. And boy, how awkward it would seem to hand him off his share of all the alcohol she stocked up on /now/. So maybe she'll wait on that. Yeah. Maybe. Panic attack anyone? The slow orange whorl showing up in Rikath's expression sure doesn't bode well. "Well, there goes our grand plan for missing out on drills. That's a shame." She'll go with that for now.

"Nah, you stay," D'lan says to P'sec rising to his feet and taking up first one and then the other boot, his own discomfort levels starting to rise. "I've got some…uh…some things to take care of," a flash of a smile sent to Maura to cover up the lie for he's not the type to hang around and play 'house'. Once boots are on, his belt is next and then he's reaching for the half bottle of wine and tilting it the young bluerider's way, "Keep the shirt and…thanks." For the bottle of wine or the night before? He doesn't qualify the statement either way but instead will seek to give Maura a sound kissing before turning and heading toward the ledge. "See you at drills," called out over his shoulder as he turns back toward bronze and blueriders, a strangely guarded expression in place. And then he'll leave, that is if Rikath doesn't try taking a chunk out of his butt first.

"Please, for my sake, keep your pants on." P'sec makes D'lan's near nudity into a joke but it isn't a comfortable one. He nearly insists on leaving until D'lan makes his life easier - or harder, depending on one's interpretation - and more or less walks out on Maura. He watches the younger man leave, and although he just says back, "See you then," Wyncrath is the recipient of another message. Abydoth even puts words to it, an indication of just how serious that message is. « Dinner. After drills. You have a candlemark. » Someone's in trouble.

Maura is, apparently, to stunned to shove D'lan away from her when he makes the lamest excuse ever for leaving, and punctuates it with the most casual saunter out back to his dragon. She just stares for a minute, uncomprehending, and then turns away from the exit. She keeps her back to P'sec, though her grip on the drawer of the armoire is tight enough to make her knuckles white when she yanks it out to get her riding leathers ready. For drlls. "You can go too." she whispers, waiting. Waiting. Rikath doesn't try and take a chunk out of anyone, no. But that orange has turned to flecks of red, and he /does/ growl.

It's the message sent via Wyncrath that has D'lan pausing as he mounts up, sending a closed look back in the direction of the weyr, reply sent through the same link. « You want him, you know where to find him. » Wyncrath's tone clipped and just as closed as his rider's innermost thoughts are to all but him. Catching the anger whirling in Rikath's eyes, the brownrider's words are heavy with rarely spoken regret, "Sorry old boy." And then he's gone and despite having been reminded of when to turn up for drills…is late. Keeping to themselves, the brown pair will go through the motions with none of their usual flair or joie de vivre attached.

Abydoth doesn't respond in words but rather a flicker of comprehension. There is no quick flare of annoyance or anger from him. The waft of wind after Wyncrath has an element of the eternal and ever-present about it. P'sec, for his part, sighs after D'lan and turns back to Maura to pick up the pieces. "No, that's okay, I owe you breakfast." For what he doesn't say because it isn't the point. "I brought up some fresh rolls." Typical P'sec, up and about before anyone else. He doesn't move to go get them though, taking a couple steps closer to Maura until he can tentatively lay a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

"Well, /you're/ no good at taking a hint." Maura gripes, clearly struggling to keep her voice even. "Can't a girl even cry in peace." The very idea of breakfast makes her turn a little green at the edges though, so she decides not to say a word about it. Once the bronzeirder's hand lands on her shoulder though, she just lets loose the floodgates and the waterworks pour out. So of course, she turns around to all but bury her face in his shirt. What is it with her and men's shirts? "I wasn't… expecting that exit." she admits, sounding quite emphaticaly pathetic. "I'm so stupid, aren't I."

After being weyrmated for a good long time, P'sec figures he has a fairly good idea of when it's better to stay and be the shoulder to cry on, even if it's easier and less uncomfortable to beat a fast retreat. "No, you're not stupid," he says above Maura's head as she turns towards him, arms going about the girl in a gentle embrace that intends nothing more than sympathetic comfort.

"Well, certainly not smart." Maura decides, letting herself stand there for a minute before she pulls away and wipes at her eyes with the flat of her palms. "But thanks anyway." She rubs at her arms next, and then grabs for the glass of wine she'd started to pour on the table, taking perhaps an unhealthy sized drink of it. "Guess I needed to learn that lesson sometime though. I…" She gives her head a shake and finally just pulls down that amber flask of whatever, setting it on the table. "That one is yours. Just.. give me the bottle when you're done, ok?"

"This wasn't you," P'sec points out as Maura steps away, settling both hands on the back of one of her chairs. "Are you sure you want to do that?" He asks doubtfully as Maura goes for the wine. "Like I said, I've got rolls and klah's a quick trip away." He straightens up so he can take the amber-coloured glass bottle. "What's this for?" Trying to be cheerful or at least big-brotherly, the bronzerider tacks on, "I'll kick his ass for you like I said."

"It wasn't his idea, P'sec. It was mine." Maura admits, her tone dulling. She can almost hear the big-brotherly voice trying not to lecture her about drinking more of the wine, and she's in no mood to put up a fight, so she pushes the glass away in a dutiful manner. "Alright. Rolls. Klah. Hopefully I won't hurl it up before drills." Doesn't that sound promising? Whatch your shoes, P'sec! "I need the glass for something, that's all. You'll see. There's uhm, a blue bottle, green, dark brown, and that amber one." is explained, while finally her lips twitch in vague humor. "Don't suppose you'd agree to rip out his spleen and feed it to him instead. That was… it… if he… oh nevermind."

And outside, Rikath perks up a little at the mention of real violence. Spleen feeding? Maybe this will all work out afterall!

Maura's confession doesn't change a thing, and if there's any blame to be laid P'sec still places it squarely on D'lan's shoulders. "Get dressed," he instructs, turning to give Maura privacy and stepping towards the ledge. "We'll get klah to go with the rolls and head for the hills." Mildly, for Maura's amendment, the man turns back and says, "That could be arranged."

Maura is sorely tempted to say 'yes sir', but if she's thinking it then it doesn't make it past her lips. Instead she turns towards the clothing she'd already pulled out and goes through the motions of getting her leathers pulled on. It certainly isn't up to her usual standard. And, perhaps in a fit of pique, she keeps the cad's shirt on as part of her uniform for the day. Let D'lan think on that one for awhile during drills. "You're being awfully nice. Sure you don't want to yell at me for being stupid?" she calls out over her shoulder. It's probably a good thing P'sec did show up, or she'd wind up at drills totally wasted. As it is, she'll show up with red rimmed eyes and Rikath won't let anyone within a foot of her. But at least she'll have had rolls and klah, and be relatively calm. Something everyone can thank P'sec for.




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