==== February 17, 2014
==== K'vvan, Mayte, Sienna, Thierry
==== They establish who's got the better chest, but whose bum can better the Weyrleader's?

Who K'vvan, Mayte, Sienna, Thierry
What They establish who's got the better chest, but whose bum can better the Weyrleader's?
When It is midmorning of the twenty-eighth day of the first month of the first turn of the 12th pass.
Where Igen Weyr Central Bazaar

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Central Bazaar
All roads in the weyr ultimately lead here, to this center of commerce. Canvas awnings jut out over time worn, sandy cobblestone, sheltering customers and wares alike from the majority of Igen's elements, and funnel scents both mouthwatering and vomit inducing through the thin streets. Almost all store fronts are open air, delineated by sandstone arches with intricately carved facades. The insides of these stone-shingled buildings act as an amplifier for the salesmens' bawled enticements, and are held up by the chipped swirls of marble pillars.

Morning has Igen's winter sunshine glaring across the bazaar, bright and sunny though without the overt /heat/ of the region's summers. It's busy as ever amongst the stalls and streets, with a crowd having gathered around one spot in particular. They're centered around a trio of entertainers - one knife-thrower, the woman and board he's throwing his knives at, and a second man playing a daring tune on his lute to accompany the performance. The crowd oohs and aahs as there's what seems to be a near miss… though on the edge of it, leaning against a stall-front pillar where he can just about see what's happening, uniform-clad Thierry looks utterly bored by it all. "Toss it /at/ her!" He hollers across the crowd's cheers.

Sienna's original reasons for being in the bazaar are unclear. Perhaps it's shopping, perhaps visiting the twins. Regardless, the greenrider is out and about, dressed in traditional garb, her knot mostly hidden beneath the shawl she wears draped over her bouncy curls. The curvy woman pauses among the crowd to watch, though her gaze flicks to the guard-in-uniform and his rather rude comment. Huh. She turns back to watching for a moment, and then her eyes flick back to the man. Is /this/ the one?

K'vvan is rather far away at the moment, carrying on what actually sounds like a conversation with someone on the otherside of the bazaar. The catcalling doesn't draw his attention as it is over there and he is over here, talking BUSINESS.

The catcalling caught no-one's attention, which makes Thierry even more bored by the intentional near-misses that have the rest of the crowd so riled up. So he pushes off his leaning post, which is when he catches Sienna looking at him. He runs his dark eyes rather obviously along the length of her from her feet up, before jerking up his chin in a 'what do /you/ want?' gesture. With his thumbs hooked into his beltloops, he stands there, watching the female greenrider with a steely sort of gaze. As for K'vvan? He's not been noticed yet, all the way over there as he is!

Sienna's brows arch a bit at the obvious checking her out, but she only grins and lifts her hand in a finger wiggling wave before looking back to the knife throwing. That doesn't last long though, her attentions elsewhere, and she slowly begins to make her way through the crowd once more. Which takes her near enough to Thierry to actually speak. "Morning," she offers brightly, with a smile as she passes.

The familiar voice catches K'vvan's ear and he looks up to see Sienna walking his way through the crowd. Eyes glance at the crowd she is passing and his eyes narrow as he tracks her. Though, for the moment, he doesn't do more then raise a hand in hiiiii.

"Heh." The way Thierry says it, it's almost sleazy - the little look that goes with it doesn't make it much better, either. "Yeah. Morning." There's more sneer to his smile than anything else, as he shifts his weight onto one foot, flicking his eyes over Sienna once more. Movement off to the side catches his eye - K'vvan raising his hand in a hello, making him eye the man warily - before he looks back at Sienna. "Shouldn't you be in the Weyr, or something?"

"Shouldn't you be patrolling?" is Sienna's reply, but while Thierry's words are almost sleazy, hers are lighter, amused, easy going. Looking around again, she spots K'vvan and her smile widens as she lifts a hand to return his wave, then tucks curls behind her ear and looks back at Thierry with a smile. "That is to say no, I shouldn't be in the weyr at the moment. Because I'm here, clearly. Enjoying the show?"

Business seems to be concluded, so K'vvan sticks his hands in his pocket and begins the avoid-touching-everyone-in-a-crowd routine that is special just to him. His target seems to be Sienna, having little to no interest in idiots who throw knives at one another.

Thierry's sneer turns to a smirk - he must be in a /good/ mood today. Or biting his tongue! "D'you think I'm out here for my health, rider?" The approaching greenrider is clocked, looked over, and watched for a few more strides before he looks back to the woman before him. "Depends on what show you're talking about." His /eyes/ don't drop, but there's a dip of his chin to suggest there may be a show /somewhere down there/. "You're putting on quite a /parade/ there, lady."

Sienna looks down at her traditional garb, the wrapped gown, the headscarf…did something come untucked? For a moment she has a flutter of panic that something has gone amiss and she's left with a wardrobe malfunction. But no, it seems all is well. "What do you mean?" She's missed any innuendo he attempted there, as her hands slide over the fabric and her curves, making /doubly/ sure things are tucked as they're supposed to be and not about to unravel and leave her standing in her underthings.

K'vvan is drawing CLOSER till bam. He's right there next to Sienna. While Sienna might have missed his eyes the greenrider hasn't. Abrupt SCOWL for Thierry. "How is it going Assistant Weyrlingmaster?" The wingsecond puts extra emphasis on her rank.

"Sashaying on through here pretending t'be one of us." Thierry doesn't miss K'vvan's rank-dropping, and he looks the second greenrider up and down just as thoroughly as he did the first. He gives the man a nod of hello, curt but not impolite - certainly with a touch more courtesy that he showed Sienna. "Assistant Weyrlingmaster. You're all damned keen on rank and names, aren't you?" He squints in the midmorning sun, looking from one to the other, finally settling on K'vvan. "You got one of them fancy ranks that I oughta be calling you, rider-man?"

Sienna flashes K'vvan a smile. "Hello," wait, ranks? "wingsecond." What was that for? her look asks him. "I'm doing well, thanks. Just visiting the twins, getting some shopping done…" Life goes on, despite Thread, right? "How are you?" Then she looks back at Thierry, her eyes flickering for a moment. "I /am/ one of you," she says firmly, even though she's not sure where he's taken offense. Is it her rank? Her dragon? Her oldtimer-ness? Her vagina? Her weyrmate? Lots of things set her apart. She glances at K'vvan, and then back to Thierry, and extends a hand. "Sienna."

Mayte comes into view, slowly, hands tucked in pockets, and unaccountably wearing a dark fabric scarf around her neck, fashionably knotted at the base of her throat. She's got a little grin on her face as she eyes the collected crowd, but then she spots K'van and Sienna and that grin grows. Sidling up to that crowd, Mayte singsongs a "Good morning!" and a pause as Thierry is sized up before Mayte adds entirely too happily, "Sirs. Ain't it a looooovely morning?"

K'vvan's hands are stuck still in his pockets. "Wingsecond." Is his abrupt answer to the bazaar man. But then, look, a wild vintner appears! "Mayte. Why do you have that scarf on?" Why is K'vvan making fashion statements anyway?

Thierry /is/ treading carefully today. Asking ranks and everything! "Wingsecond." He's even got a degree of respect there, too. A /degree/, mind - but it's still a little more than others might get. "You're from /that side/," he says to Sienna, jerking his thumb towards the more dragony side of the Weyr. And, for good measure: "Assistant Weyrlingmaster. You're not one of us when you're from /that/ side." And oh /look/, a Mayte. He rolls his dark eyes when he spies the vintner, turning his head to spit onto the ground. She doesn't get a good morning, just a surly nod. "The fuck you so happy about?"

Sienna spots Mayte and greets the vinter with a warm smile. "Morning, Mayte! It is indeed." She eyes the girl for a moment, a knowing gleam in her eyes, then looks at K'vvan, and then back to Thierry. "That's a dangerous and narrow-minded view to hold. There is no this side and that side. We're all Igen here. The riders can't survive without the bazaar, and the bazaar can't survive without the riders. We are Igen." And she lets her hand fall, tucking into the folds of her outfit when he declines to shake it. Which isn't a big deal, maybe he's got the same 'no physical contact' thing going as K'vvan does. "Who are you?" It's not rudely asked, she just wants a name to a face, and since he didn't take her (rather obvious) hint after she offered her own name, she's got to ask outright.

"Because I like it," is Mayte's happy retort to K'vvan. Okay, maybe a little petulantly as she follows up with, "Why, don't you like it?" Loaded question! Sienna's eyes are avoided for a moment after she notes the greenrider's expression. Thierry? Mayte's eyes gleam in happy anticipation: "Oh, things are good," trying not to singsong is hard yo, "Sales are good, got the last batch of wine blended and into carboys, and Rukbat is shining!" This voice is called the 'Annoy the Angry Customer by Being Happy' voice, but Mayte will give it a rest for a moment to ask everyone, "How are you?" even though she's looking at K'vvan and Sienna.

"At least it is black." Maybe K'vvan is just envious that she gets to wear a black scarf and he's stuck with a stupid blue one. Said blue scarf even peeks out from a back pocket where he stuffs it when not actually doing weyr business. Sienna seems to be handling the kid so he'll just stand here looking not-at-all-scary.

"Uh-huh. We're aaall one big, happy Igen family, auntie rider." Thierry smiles sourly. "I'm a member of the guard, Assistant Weyrlingmaster." He tugs on his tunic, as if to say 'isn't it obvious?' "I wouldn't pick this to look pretty in." He brushes his hair back from his face with a sweep of his hand through dark locks, pursing his lips distastefully at Mayte. "You oughta go spew rainbows somewhere else, sunshine. Why not go volunteer over there?" The recruit jerks his chin towards the knife-throwing act, while digging his hand into his pocket for one of his tokes. The quieter greenrider is eyed curiously as he works on lighting his smoke, spoken to once he's exhaled the first puff. "Wingsecond. You want one?" A droopy hide-wrapped packet of tokes is held out to K'vvan, with a little jiggy to knock one or two easily into reach.

Sienna watches Mayte for a moment, a smile pulling at her lips. "Glad you're doing so well. Liesan should be bringing by a few new wheels that are just about ready, for you to sample and pair." Good old Liesan is getting better every day in the cheese business, which is good since Sienna's time is being taken more and more with the not-dying business. She looks at K'vvan again, offering him a little smile. "How's Nadeeth?" Since he ignored Mayte's question about him…ask about the dragon. "Kehemath is really enjoying her company." Valiuth is not big into cuddling. Then she looks back at the guard, a brow lifted. "Don't be delusional," she chuckles, "things are far from perfect but at least some of us are trying. Your name, guard?" She wants it. As for 'auntie rider'…that earns a visible flinch and a deep breath. Following his hand sweep towards the knife throwing, she rolls her eyes with a low laugh.

Mayte does finger the scarf a little with a grin, but is more excited at hearing Sienna's news, "Oh, wonderful!" Dark eyes gleam for a moment, "We've got some new wines that need pairing to." She does perk at the question of how the small green is doing, but can't resist turning to Thierry and commenting, "Nah, the last time they let me throw knives, I scared too many guys." Arched eyebrows of 'know-what-I'm-sayin' in his direction, but Mayte will definitely add to the naming pressure: "Reilan would know." And just to add icing, "He's a pretty nice sort."

"Mayte!" K'vvan's voice might actually sound girly for a long moment as the Vinter's forwardness hits his frontal lobe. And someone is stuffing a smoke in his face. The winkles fold as he reaches out to pluck it from the man's hands, break it in half, then turn and head off through the crowd. Perhaps he's not into socializing today?

"I /had/ thought you'd be on the receiving end," Thierry replies to Mayte in a cloud of smoke from his toke. He runs his tongue shiftily along his bottom lip. "Men're meant to throw knives. Girls' tits get in the way." And then there's Sienna, on her eternal quest for his name. There's an unabashedly sulky curve to his mouth as he relents, though he does /try/ to cover that with a hint of cockiness, especially when Mayte mentions Reilan. /That/ name earns the vintner a glower. "Guard Recruit Thierry, Assistant Weyrlingmaster." And Sienna wins the prize! To K'vvan, in response to that snapped toke, he just shakes his head in disappointment. "Coulda just said no, man. Damned shame." The broken, fallen smoke is nudged with the toe of his boot, its loss no doubt deeply mourned as he flicks ash from his lit one at it.

Sienna watches K'vvan stomp off with a soft, inward sigh. But she doesn't run after him. He's a big boy. Instead, she looks at the smoke on the ground and then looks back at Mayte and the guard, smiling faintly. "I'd love to be in on the pairing session, if you wouldn't mind me weighing in," she says to the vinter. Good wine and good cheese? Life can't get better. She snickers though, winking at the girl, and then looks back at the guard. "Thierry. Thank you. Well met." Then she looks down at her own curves. "I haven't found they get in the way of much," she admits thoughtfully.

K'vvan stomping off isn't anything new, so Mayte watches him move away for a moment, then turns to Sienna with an eager nod, "Absolutely. When we get the new cheeses, I'll send a message back with a good time for everyone." Since the boss is now off the baby-wagon too; Mayte rubs her hands together eagerly, and then again with a slightly darker grin at the bazaar merchant: "Thierry. Well met," Mayte echoes, though a bit smugly. GOTCHA. As for dangly bits in the way, Mayte laughs: "Haven't got enough to get in the way," but why does she sound happy about this? SMUG.

"Wouldn't know." Does Thierry take Sienna's looking down as an opportunity for a free ogle? You bet. "Don't have no baby-feeders on me." He pats his own flat chest, somewhat proudly. No boobs there, for sure! Mayte's, too, get a good look over them… well, if she's going to say she has /none/, then of /course/ he's going to judge. "Heh." He's not impressed by what he sees. "Hers," he jerks his head towards Sienna, "are better. And I suppose," he pulls on his toke, exhaling smoke as he continues speaking, grudgingly, "well met."

Sienna grins at Mayte, her own eagerness showing clear as day on her face. Something to look forward to, for sure! Then she looks back at Thierry, then at Mayte, then down. "Thank you. I love mine." She loves them so much she gives them a little pat. Then she smiles at Mayte. "And you should love yours too. They suit you perfectly." Pulling off her head scarf, she fluffs her curls and drapes the scarf over her shoulder, looking around and then back to Thierry. "However, I like W'rin's ass better than yours." As long as they're comparing body parts, right?

NOPE, just one boob standing before them, even if Pern doesn't technically have that bird. Mayte snorts though she's nearly grinning ear-to-ear: "You wanted to pay for it, so what's that say about you?" Point and match in Mayte's mind, so she'll drop the smuggery and nod in response to Thierry's touch of politeness. And on to Sienna's comment, leading Mayte to wrap her arms around herself and give herself an extra little 'hug' (something about touching elbows together?) and a contented, "Thanks, ma'am. I think they're perfect." No comment on who else does too, cough, but the topic of W'rin's ass makes the younger woman hug herself for a different reason. So many responses, but Mayte will settle on, "It's all yours."

Boob-patting draws Thierry's eyes /back/ to them, and he smirks crookedly. Boobage is the best. Even Mayte's self-diagnosed lack of it isn't bad to look at. "'S'not what I would've paid for," he snorts, clicking his tongue as he blows smoke downwards, towards the vintner's feet. "You, lady," back to Sienna! "haven't had the pleasure of /seeing/ my arse, but I'm sure we could arrange it." His head jerks towards one of the darker side alleys leading off the bazaar. "I've seen the Weyrleader's. Mine's much prettier."

Sienna arches a brow at Mayte. Are they talking about what she thinks they're talking about? Did he think Mayte was a whore? Sienna looks back at Thierry with a smirk. "Arrange your arse all you want, I'm not inclined to take a peek, but thank you for the offer." The laughter is audible in her voice and brightening her dark eyes with amusement. She follows his gaze to the darker alley, and then gives him a curious look. "At what occasion did you see W'rin's ass?" He wasn't…no. He wouldn't.

Annnd just like that, the gloves are back off. Mayte snorts, craning her neck to look around at Thierry's backside (and fails): "You have to have an ass to have it appreciated." Sienna's arched eyebrow is given a shrug in return, and the mere comment, "It was before they made him a guard," along the lines of a 'no accounting for taste' tone.

Thierry will /happily/ turn just enough to share his perfectly /fine/ behind with Mayte. "You've gotta have tits to have them appreciated," he retorts, dropping his spent toke to the ground and grinding it out beneath his boot heel. "Wouldn't /you/ like to know." Sienna gets a sneer and a waggle of his eyebrows… until he remembers how pushy she was getting his name out of him. "Baths." Simple, one-word answer. He digs his hands into his pockets, hocking a toke-tainted gobbet of spit onto the ground. The crowd around the knife-thrower starts to disperse as the act is over, and the milling people capture Thi's attention. "You banging the Weyrleader or something, Assistant Weyrlingmaster? Scared he'd pick my ass over yours? Psht. As /if/ he'd get this."

Sienna glances between the two of them and chuckles softly at their banter. "Ah." For Thierry, the AWLM just smiles, pleased when he gave her an answer. Atta boy. Then she laughs. "I'm scared of a lot of things, but /that/, dear Thierry, isn't one of them." She glances skyward, brows furrowing. "If you'll both excuse me." Duty, apparently. "Mayte, please let me know when you have a time and I'll try to make it." She /wants/ to. "Well met, Thierry. Clear skies to you both." Lifting her sash up over her curls then, she's turning to sway her way through the crowd back towards the weyr.

Mayte isn't refuting anything, though she'll laugh at Thierry's joke like it's the funniest thing she's heard all day. "You're really not the Weyrleader's type," is what Mayte tells the lanky boy, but Sienna seems to have that covered. The breaking up of the knife-thrower act has Mayte looking in the direction of her store, then back in time to offer Sienna a nod, "Yes, ma'am!" As the woman walks off, Mayte casts a devious grin at Thierry, with her own, "Yeah, Thierry. Clear skies," before moving off into the crowd and back to the Sidestreet.

"Eh, you know he'd want me," Thierry smirks to Sienna, tossing his head to get that dark mop of hair out of his eyes. "Shame I wouldn't want /him/, really. Not my type." He keeps his hands dug deep into his pockets as Sienna walks away, and his eyes firmly on her butt as she goes - who cares that Mayte's still there to see him? "Uh-huh," is all the grunting farewell the vintner will get from the recruit. And when he's left all alone, he meanders into the crowds, bumping into a person or two… perhaps for a little feel of whatever's in their pockets.

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