==== October 22,2013
==== Cerise, Nora
==== The girls catch up for the first time since the hatching.

Who Cerise, Nora
What The girls catch up for the first time since the hatching.
When There are 0 turns, 11 months and 0 days until the 12th pass.
Where Weyr Entrance, Southern Weyr

Nora12.png cerise15.jpg


Weyr Entrance
No standard weyr-arch for Southern: rather, an open-air bridge gracefully curves into the exterior of the bowlwall, the concave swoop of the weyrbowl itself nestled against the far high-rise of the rivercliffs. A pocket of white marble is delineated in gorgeous architecture at the termination of the bridge; stone buildings rise in a vivid vein against the rough-hewn darkness of the cliffs it settles against. The classic arcs only possible by ancient stonecutters show through, Southern's ageless beauty to be admired by all who trespass her walls.

-- On Pern --
It is afternoon
It is 3:49 PM where you are.
There are 0 turns, 11 months and 0 days until the 12th pass.
It is Summer and 105 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day.

With the sun just past its zenith, Southern's heat and humidity has also spiked. So much so that many of the Weyr's human residents have opted to remain inside where they can pretend they aren't melting. More stalwart are the dragons who can be seen just beyond the Weyr's entrance, scattered around the Bowl to soak in the sunlight like a casting of immense, living jewels. But even they are not exerting themselves if they can help it. The same can't be said for the weyrlings, who have been tasked with helping to build their lifemate's strength and endurance. As such, Cerise and Jiamoth have been assigned the trek of barracks to entrance to barracks again and (Jia being who and what she is) they are attending to it with all due diligence. How else is she going to grow up to be big and strong, otherwise? How else is she going to master this challenge of walking. And challenge it is, for the low-slung green. With wide-set limbs and a paunchy belly, there's an unintended swagger to her steps as she scuttles just over the ground, wings fanned wide to each side of her body and tail trailing behind like an exclamation mark of effort. This is hard! But. She's doing it, by golly. Chugga chugga, chugga chugga..

Cerise, however, looks as if she's about to melt at any moment. Shortened curls are plastered to her neck, her temples, her cheeks, and she's sweated through her already thin shirt, turning emerald green to a deep hunter shade. She follows at a less determined pace, plucking and fanning her floppy shirt collar to try to create a breeze. "I'm not sure why you don't sweat, darlin', but you aren't missing much…"

Sometimes, when certain weyrlings are not in the barracks, they might miss the freshly baked muffins that Nora delivered. But sometimes, having the right friends makes all the difference. And so while the assistant headwoman might have been spotted with a sizable basket as she crossed the bowl sometime earlier, now she has only a little bundle in her hands, wrapped with a napkin. Maybe someone told her to look for Cerise in this direction, because she does seem to headed right for her and the dedicated little green chugging along so valiantly in this heat. In all truth, Nora herself is looking a touch damp in her white blouse and pale skirt, and humidity and ocean breezes have added a little body to her hair, trying to make waves of itself despite the way she has it pinned up. But as she nears, her bundle is lifted up. "I have something for you. Saved it. Just in case." Because otherwise, the chance of getting a muffin might be rather slim.

Distraction! A welcome one, in Cerise's case, and a cause for curiosity in Jiamoth's. Both stop, with the human half of the pair stepping right on over because presents. "Nora! Saved for me, truly? No, it's probably not meat." She's still getting the hang of this doubled-conversation thing, leading to comments dropped without awareness. "Nor eggs, I'm guessing, do you mind if we go over there?" There's a lance of shadow cast on the ground, from where the entrance's white marble pillars are intercepting the sunlight. Jiamoth, already busily studying this bearer of not-meat, turns her head to calculate the distance…and then proceeds to lead the way, trundling along with even more industry now. "Ja'kai didn't say anything about taking a break between laps but he didn't say we couldn't, either," Cerise confides to the assistant headwoman, managing a wan facsimile of her usual grin.

Nora doesn't seem to have much trouble figuring out which parts of the conversation are for her ears and which are for the green's… ears. She just grins broadly, letting the quick dance of eyebrows make an exciting show of this wad of something she has for Cerise. The comment might not have been for her, but she response anyway. "Nope, not meat. I'm not even sure what… would make a bit of meat special," she admits, though now she's thinking about it. "If it was fish? Or something exotic? A bit of caprine, perhaps?" Maybe there will be such a treat one of these days. "Shade would be perfect," she agrees with a heavy exhale, already starting to adjust her steps to head in this direction after she hands off the folds of napkins. "Be careful. There have been a lot of surprised faces," she warns. "Wake Up Muffins, they're calling them." Klah with a bit of heat from a pepper, nice crispy sugary tops. There are two of them. Meanwhile, Nora's squinted eyes take a careful look at Jiamoth, since its the first time she's really had the chance to see the young green who claimed Cerise. Whatever her thoughts, she keeps them for herself and instead is happy to encourage a break. "And he's not here anyway." Ja'kai. What he doesn't know, can't get anyone scolded.

"Her favorite is ovine, so far. Not sure that counts as special but…oh Faranth, these look terrific." Cerise proves herself capable of multi-tasking, walking after the dragon and flipping the napkins back to admire the muffins. Admiration lasts only briefly before one's lifted and she bites directly into the crusty top- whereupon thick eyebrows go all cattywumpus at that hint of biting back. She tries not to spew crumbs as she makes a whuffly sound of amusement and then continues to wolf down the baking. "…'n delicious," she adds a moment afterward, the shade reached and the first mouthful swallowed. "Perfect name, too. Dunno if I should should sneeze or chew. How've you been? Renalde riding you hard?"

Jiamoth has been waiting patiently throughout. Her legs might be short for her body but she has four of them, compared to two, and she's growing fast. The green has adopted a sphinx-like pose, chest and belly on the ground, wings tucked and neck swanned just so. There's a coyness about the way she's lowered and turned her chin, leaving her observing Nora with just the one slowly whirling eye- it's a look that says 'I see you looking and I'm looking too.

"Oh, so you're already getting a variety? Well nevermind, then. No surprise meats for you," Nora says with a teasing flip of her hand. Of course, when she looks back to smile, she sees Cerise trying not to close her mouth on that bite of muffin. "I didn't make them, for the record," she remarks with a sly chuckle. "Don't punish the messenger." But delicious? For that she's grin more widely, happy to take whatever credit she can as she settles into the shade with another sigh and wipe of her hand across her damp cheek. "I think maybe they should go a touch lighter on the pepper." Experimental muffins, always a fun adventure. Perhaps its the way Jiamoth tips her chin, but Nora's eyes are drawn to her again. "Her color is gorgeous, Cerise," she says as something of an aside, though her praising smile is for the young dragon and the lift of one brow might just ask what it is she sees. "Renalde is Renalde," she goes on to say. "I'm sure he'd like to think he's riding me. And I'll let him go right on believing that. But how are you?" Ah, that big question gets an equally big and knowing smile.

"The bronzes are wolfing down so much, so fast, I think the herders are having a hard time keeping up. They're just throwing shit in as fast as they can," Cerise explains, through another crumbly bite. Her eyes are twinkling, which makes up for the lack of ability to grin as she eats- and thank goodness, right? That'd just be gross. "She doesn't eat near as much," she adds, lest the other woman take that as an invitation to dream up different food surprises for the dragonet. Jiamoth whuffles at that, turning her head to idly poke beak-like snout at the shoulder joint of her wing, feigning an itch- and perhaps getting a good peek at the gentle swell of her belly. "But she is gorgeous, isn't she?" Cerise's tone is stout, certain, and her words encompass more than color along. There is it, the grin, after crumbs are brushed away. "It's been…different? I'm good at it thought, didn't expect that. Helps that she's not the handful some've the others are. You seen Dimi yet?"

"I love her wings," Nora is quick to say, quick to pick up on the all-encompassing tone Cerise has and to expand her own to match. She lifts her chin to the green, encouragement for her to show them off now, particularly as she twists her own slim shoulders a little as an example. Of course, from the little time she's spent out in the sun today, those shoulders are already rather rosy. At any rate, Nora's eyes do not linger on anyone's pooch, certainly. For the new greenrider's revelation, though, the assistant headwoman gives a bright laugh. "Why wouldn't you be good at it?" The thought surely never occurred to her. "It always seemed to me that you must be good at a lot of things. Maybe she's just not a handful because you are good at it." Nora cocks a you-ever-think-of-that eyebrow, an expression that swiftly turns into a more curious look. "I haven't," she admits of the infamous brother. "He's doing all right?"

Wings! Yes, she has those! Jiamoth peeps briefly at Nora from beneath the burnt cinnamon spar clasping the softer velvet of her 'sails. And then, with the sort of careful attention reserved to a novice actress, she unfurls her wings to the side as if to bestow a great honor upon a person. The velvety texture prevents the iridescent sheen seen in some of her clutchsiblings, but the shade is as cool and sweet as the day is not. She poses, watching curiously for the response to this display. "Just that like, aye, lovey. I ever mention you're good for my ego?" Cerise remarks- statement for the green, question for the woman, deep amusement shared with both of them. She pops a piece of muffin plucked from the cap into her mouth and looks between them, back and forth. "The way they were in their eggs…I know, I didn't come find you, that's on me, doll…I was half-expecting to be run off the sands. Dimi's…well…" Some of her good humor fades. "He, uh. Got a bronze that's more like him than he'd maybe like to admit."

The response is an guileless light in Nora's expression, the faint gleam of her eyes, truly appreciating the cool lush hue and the unique shape of Jiamoth's wings. "Gorgeous," she tells the young green. And maybe to both of them, she wonders, "Do you think it's in bad taste to want to match that color? If it's even possible. Maybe in… suede? There's something so.. soft." A more exacting eye narrows at the dragon's hide, but she's quick enough to let inspection go. "Come find me?" Nora wonders with a light cant of her head. "What for? Oh, the dress?" She's a little sheepish to have perhaps not thought too much about it. "I suppose it's just as well. I was run off my feet that night. We'll have to save it for some other occasion," she promises with that quick grin, that conspiring glance. But the fall of Cerise's tone brings a pinch to the assistant headwoman's lips. "He's doing okay, though, right? The two of them?" She's probably not the first person to shake their head in that musing way, the way that says '…. bronze'.

Well, if she's going to keep the compliments coming, Jiamoth won't be so rude as to hide her appreciation. Though there is something rather shy about the way she angles her wing, sails whispering softly when they're relaxed and then extended to bring them within touching range of Nora. The green's head ducks, and this time that one-eyed peek is definitely shy and prompts Cerise to curl a hand over jeweled ridges. "Maybe for my dress leathers. But that's…shards, that'll be a Turn away, at least," she says, bemused. "And a hard shade to match, anyway. I think he's doing all right. If every other word out of Ja'kai's mouth weren't Thread, they might even be doing good, the two of them. But it's different now, aye? And folks're gonna be looking to him," or at least at him, "and I dunno if he's picked up on that yet."

"Or some really beautiful shoes," is what Nora was thinking, and potentially for herself. But as Jiamoth extends that wing, the demure uncertainty is nearly matched by the headwoman's own reach. Is this acceptable? Either way, it's just a light graze of fingertips that slide briefly along that fine hide, and then an utterly indulgent smile when it's through. D'tri's woes are a more sobering thought. "I honestly… I think it's only rough in the beginning. Everyone looks at bronze dragons like they mean something. Like it's a promise for the future. But look how many bronzeriders are just filling out wings. It crops up now and again, sure," flights, promotions, etc. "But most of the time I think people just carry on with their lives. So hopefully he won't pick up on it at all." Though there's something in the tension at Nora's mouth that might, for whatever reason, find that unlikely.

Can't sneak one by one someone raised to a trader's life. Not that Nora's trying to hide her own doubt but Cerise is on it, in a flash- though she laughs, rather than dipping into what might have been a bitter pool. The other woman can thank Jiamoth's influence for that. "Just because it only comes up now and then doesn't mean they don't want them all to toe that big bronze line. He's not made for toeing lines." Maybe scuffing them. Hopping back and forth over them. Possibly even doing cartwheels around them. But…that too is in the future. For now, she slides back to a more pleasant topic: that of the green dragon who holds her wing steady and true for Nora's glancing touch. "She says to say thank you, and you can touch if you'd like, if you think her wings are pretty. She hadn't really thought about it before," her voice drops, "though I've been telling her."

The laugh might catch Nora's moment of consideration, but rather than ease the mood, it seems to leave her, for just a beat, even more uncertain. Whatever thought she has, though, it's swiftly set aside so she can return to the topic at hand. "Unless by toeing lines you mean dancing on them, and around them," Nora says, basically following the same thoughts aloud that Cerise might have had in mind, her smirk tugging at her mouth. "But he's good at that. Managing to get by without actually conforming?" Warmer is the smile she has for Jiamoth. "I suppose it's like when your mother says you're pretty. It's hard to believe her because you know she's biased, even if she also happens to be right." She hits that word with a sway of her weight toward the green, her grin stretched wide. "Are you sleeping?" she asks Cerise rather abruptly. "Donner, E'don, says he's had trouble."

Abashed, Jiamoth lowers her wings back to her side- they'd picked up a hint of tremors from the strain, as wee baby muscles tired- and presses her head against Cerise's thigh. The stroking is redoubled, to soothe. "That's Dimi. He'll do fine, I think…might even help him learn a thing or two about how annoying he is." Cue a grin. "It happens to everyone, aye," she goes on to assure the green, agreeing with her human counterpart. "If they care, they're biased, and if they don't know you they want something. It's a wonder any of us get along, strange lot that we are." And then? Then there's a pause, complete with cocked head and curious study of Nora's expression, as if she could scry the conversation that must have led to this. "Sleeping? Never. First night was a little odd…not having my own dreams, y'know? But her head's not a bad place to be, everything's full of light and color. They say why they're having trouble?"

There's a thought that drifts across Nora's face as Cerise comments on the strange lot that is humanity, her tongue slipping out to touch lightly at her lip. But it's gone almost before it happens. "Yeah, he was saying how his bronze's thoughts are full of trees. It seemed to me that would be quite a soothing thing to fall asleep to. Tranquil, you know? But he didn't seem to agree." And for that she just gives her head a nonplussed shake. "And he talked about how terrible the barracks smell and how everyone is up all night shitting, but I think he may have mostly been trying to get me to leave the muffins in his keeping. You know, to 'save' me from having to experience the barracks for myself." The roll of her eyes comes with a rather amused grin. "Anyway, he didn't seem interested in talking about solutions so… I wish him luck with his sleeplessness. It sounds like Ja'kai, well…" This time, the shake of her head is a little more dismissive.

That list of complaints from E'don provoke a snort from Cerise. Still more good humor than sour, she's shaking her head by the time Nora finishes. "I think if he'd worked a hard day's labor in his life, he'd maybe have a better idea of what terrible is. We have to muck their couches and they're getting big enough that's a feat but…" She trails off here, eyes losing focus with the distinctive glaze of a rider pulled into conversation mentally. Flat hazel now rather than sparkling, it's a long minute before she returns to herself. "…Jia says his Qianvaelth is pretty soothing to be around, dunno why he'd be complaining. It probably was the muffins. Or…I dunno. Trying to get a pretty girl to make nice at him. Y'know how he is." Or maybe she doesn't, but Cerise's grin should say it all. She drops her voice to a softer register, "I'm just waiting for one've the boys to get caught with their hands in their pants, and their dragon yelling about it to everyone. S'gonna happen, just you watch. My money's on it being E'don too."

Low lashes and high eyebrows pair to award that point to Cerise — just angling. "It could be," she admits with a smirk. "It was the first time I'd really talked to him, actually. And he did seem very eager to get more muff…ins." It drifts, there, you see, because the greenrider has lowered her voice and Nora has leaned in to listen, the very picture of two gossips, particularly since the headwoman starts to smirk. Plus, well, she didn't mean for 'muffins' to sound like a euphemism. "Poor thing. Really, that has to be the worst — the total lack of privacy, having someone who doesn't know better telling everyone when you try to have yourself a little private time. I'd lose my mind." And she might not have to face such trials, but she does take a deep breath to bolster against the thought, and her gaze turns a bit more musingly toward Jiamoth. She queries a lifted eyebrow and a tip of her head toward Cerise, the smirk teasing. "What if it's you?"

Ah ha! Now Cerise knows, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Nora appreciates a good dirty joke and even makes them, herself! Intentionally or not! Jiamoth's eyes take on a puzzled spin as she looks from one woman to the other, clearly not understanding any of this conversation- but listening with all of the determination she possesses. "Won't be me," Cerise says with a voice still shaken by amusement. "I've got more self-control than that and prefer a decent dance partner anyway." See, baby dragon? They're just talking about dance! All's well here, nothing to go ask mama about. "Besides, it isn't as if they don't sleep half the day and night away now. Just need a little sense to time it right, aye?"

"Who doesn't? But I'm picky about my dancing partners," Nora says with a shrug of her shoulder. "Dancing alone is better than not dancing at all. But I am not a teenaged boy. They seem… rather preoccupied with dancing." Yes, she's quick enough to shift to the code word so that young minds are not too terribly confused. And she even lets her weight sway from side to side, smiling at the green. It's all just innocent dancing. "They don't wake up? Though I suppose, if it's just a quick dance… And let's face it, most of them are probably only good for a very brief twirl." She let's that smirk spread wide again, conspiring with Cerise. "You should put some money on Donner, and then see about fixing that game," she says with a bounce of her brows and a little brush of her fingers along the collar of her blouse.

Ignorance, in Jiamoth's case, is not bliss. Her head sways back and forth in time with Nora's demonstration, a low rumble building in her chest- only to sputter out in confusion when Cerise loses it. Laughter is just startled right out of her when Nora takes the initiative to suggest…that. "Oh Faranth…the trouble I'd be in, encouraging him," she chokes out between gasped breaths. One arm is supporting Jia, who's in full on leaning mode, the other lifts so she can wipe at her eyes. "You do it, and I'll pay you half if it works, how's that?" Ever the trader she is, and far too aware of Ja'kai's spies being everywhere, alas. But she's grinning, with dimples- until speak of the devil, a glance towards the bowl shows a certain viperish green on the prowl. She stiffens, jostles her own green to attention and says, "I ought to be back, he'll be wondering why walking is taking so long."

Nora gives a jaunty salute and a cheeky grin, her own chest shuddering with a voiceless laugh. "I'll hold you to that," she promises, though probably in jest, those brushing fingers turning to a more intentional wipe at her neck. Between the heat, the tired dragonet and the threat of looming weyrlingmasters, perhaps it is time to carry on with the day. "And I should get out of the sun," she sighs a bit, having rather enjoyed her leisurely diversion of delivering muffins. "I'll have to see what else I can drum up so I have an excuse to stop by." She probably did steal someone's job to designate herself the bearer of muffins. But already her find shoes are shifting in the dirt, tripping away. "Keep an eye on her," she tells the green, that lively sing-song in her voice as she lifts her hand to wave her farewell.

"Whenever you can get away," Cerise urges, "maybe we can introduce you to Chorz. Just don't call him that where he can hear." See how helpful she is, even when distracted? Cerise is the very best. Of everything. Her grin for the other woman rivals the glint of summer sunshine before she bows her head and uses both hands to help urge Jiamoth to stand. The green might be feeling baby sleepy but she's mannered enough now to also offer a farewell, in the form of a sweet-voice trill that shifts, all too quickly, into exasperated huffs of effort. Moooom, why is the bowl so biiiiiig. Yet off they go, making sure those squat little legs get the proper amount of exercise.

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