==== September 21, 2013
==== H'ris, Kultir , Lysia, Sh'ro
==== Fun and games between friends turn into fun and games of a different sort when 2 greenriders appear on the scene. ADULT CONTENT

Who H'ris, Kultir , Lysia, Sh'ro
What It's all fun and games until …
When There is 1 turn 2 months and 6 days until the 12th pass.
Where Living Caverns, Southern Weyr

Kultir Kultir Lysia2.jpg shro.jpg


Living Caverns
Grand and spacious, the cavern curves high aloft in naturally-vaulted ceiling that soothes any sense of claustrophiba. Rich woods line the cavern floor, varnished and stained a rich mahogany, while round tables scatter about candlelit and intimate. The largest table lies southerly next the sideboard, long trestles that seem oriented to providing for the weyr's youngest. The rich blue of Azov can be seen from a distance in good weather, when the heavy stone doors covering the entrance are allowed to stand open.

Kultir enters the caverns, obviously freshly washed since his hair is still wet and slicked back from his face. He sighs as he rolls his shoulders against the ache that has settled into them, stretching the fabric of one of his favorite tunics a bit much when he does. He moves to the food tables and gathers enough provender to make a substantial snack … or a small meal for someone his age and size. A mug of klah is also snagged before he turns to scan the tables, shrugging when he plunks himself down in a vacant space where there are few others lounging about. He loads up a slice of bread with meat and greens and a bit of gravy, tops it with another slice and takes a large bite. His jaw pops rhythmically as he chews, focusing on his food and ignoring the idle conversation around him.

Lysia has finally wrapped up the after lunch rush. And the kitchens is now in full swing for dinner preparation. She strolls out of the kitchens while wiping her hands dry on a towel. The tables still appear to have a decent variety of foods available on them. So she tosses the towel over her shoulder and nabs herself a plate. It’s either eat now or wait until after supper and she hasn’t eaten anything substantial yet today. She procures herself a decent portion of food and grabs a mug of wine to wash it all down with. As she turns in preparation to head for a spot to eat, she watches Kultir stride past with an already full plate of his own. Is it just her, or has the Candidate grown taller since she’s last seen him? She decides to follow along behind him. Making it to his table by the time he’s already begun his meal. “Mind if I join you?” She doesn’t wait for an answer and plops herself into an empty chair at his table.

Kultir is still chewing his first bite when she asks if she can join him and can't answer with his mouth full. He cocks a shoulder and nods his head to indicate that he doesn't mind and continues chewing till he can swallow. He washes the bite down with a swig of klah and chuckles at her. "Little bit late but … I don't mind." he says, setting his sandwich back down on his plate. He picks up his fork and works on gathering a bite of stewed greens. "How's the kitchens doing?" He hasn't had kitchen duty since he'd found the wood yard, much happier working outside than inside.

Lysia smiles happily and chuckles, “Well I’m glad. Since I’m already sitting here and all.” It would be inconvenient to have to move now after all. She uses a slice of bread to hold her beef tips steady while she scoops some up. “The kitchens are doing really well. Thanks.” She lowers her elbows to the table and turns a smile on Kultir. “Been quieter without you and Legs stopping by to visit. But so far we’ve all managed not to be late on the meals or burn the place out.” These are all great accomplishment in her opinion obviously. “How are things going for you of late?” She slips a bite of food into her mouth and chews. Watching him curiously.

Kultir grins at her as he takes another bite of his sandwich. He chews and swallows before he chokes on his laughter. "I'm glad to hear it. Least 'Legs' ain't dropping pots and makin' messes in y'r kitchens, eh?" he says. His lips quirk as he tries to suppress a rather fatuous grin and shrugs. "Not too bad, actually. Better than it was, anyway." His eyes sparkle with merriment, a look he's not had for a couple sevendays at least.

Lysia makes a much put upon noise at the memory of Legs and his subsequent mess. She swallows her food while nodding her head. “This is true,” she admits and then sips her wine. Finally she smiles now that her mouth is washed out. “But it’s infinitely interesting to see what the lot of you will get into.” It’s a break from her usual routine. And she’s always happy to have those. “It’s almost like have a new apprentice around when ya’ll show up.” What with their fumbling around and jerking off. She chuckles and appears pleased to hear that he’s doing alright. “I’m really glad to hear that. You look like you’re in a better mood by far than when I last saw you. All the better for the trees too..” she winks at him and then digs back into her food for a moment.

Kultir chuckles softly as she teases him, a slight flush coloring his cheeks as he shrugs again. "Well, ye know … talkin' t' ye helped a bit. Workin' in the woodlot helps a lot too." he says with a wink. "Workin' off m' frustrations … so t' speak." He cocks his head at her and raises an eyebrow and waves his fork in her direction. "Ye'r lookin' a bit … happier? since I last saw ye too." He glances at her shoulder, checking her knot and frowns slightly. "Ye ain't got a promotion so … " So, of course, he has to wonder just what has happened to lift that faint shadow she's had since he's known her.

Lysia nearly chokes to death on a bite of food when Kultir tells her that he’s been working in the woodlot. That is just too funny to her!! She covers her face with the towel on her shoulder until she can get herself under control. After a few minutes she can breathe again and tosses the towel over her shoulder where it belongs. She blushes profusely when he asks her why she is so much happier today. “Well, um..” she fidgets in her chair and chases her food around with her fork. After a few moment she decides to change the subject rather than answer him. “It sounds to me like you’ve gone from hitting trees with branches to cutting them into bits.” She looks up at Kultir and chuckles. “I’m sure that’s very therapeutic for you. But you’re going to have to procure some new tunics soon if you keep it up.” She’s noticed that the one he’s wearing is stretched a bit tight. She swears she can hear the thread holding it together screaming.

Kultir looks at her with a bit of concern when she chokes and then hides her face in the towel. "Ye a'right?" he asks, frowning until she lifts her face and he sees that dark blush on her fair skin. He grins when she changes the subject so abruptly and shakes his head slightly. "Yeah … somethin' like tha'. Keeps m' outta trouble and is somethin' useful tha' needs done." he replies, taking another bite. He grins as she comments on the tightness of his tunic and shrugs which causes the tunic to stretch even more. "I'll have t' talk t' someone about lettin' out the seams a bit, yeah." At least when Kalea had stitched them for him, she'd left enough fabric to allow for that before he outgrew them entirely.

Lysia nods her head and drinks her wine. "I'm fine." At least now that there isn't a beef tip lodged in her larynx anyhow. She notices his grin and figures he's smart enough to figure things out for himself. After all he once had a woman of his own. She is of a mind to admit nothing! And so she is clearly grateful when he allows her to change the subject. "It certainly does need done." After all she has to keep the kitchens cooking full blast somehow. She eyes his tunic and nods her head. "I'm sure someone in the barracks will know how." Don't ask /her/ how. She can cook you a meal not darn your clothing.

Kultir laughs softly and nods. "Aye .. well, worst comes t' worst I c'n do it m'self iff'n I hafta." he says, chasing the last bite of greens around his plate. After he munches that bite down he pushes the plate away and leans back in his chair, cradling his mug in his hand as he looks at her. His eyes sparkle as he watches her, mischief playing across his features. "Hey … ain't I ye'r JungleMan? Ye know ye can tell me an'thin', eh?" he says. He's her bud, right? Surely he can tease her a bit, right?

Lysia is very nearly finished with her own plate. She forks the last bite into her mouth while he talks about mending his own clothes. Thankfully she swallows that bite before he sets in with teasing her. So she is left to feel the heat creeping into her face again. “O’course you are.” She tells him with an affirmative nod. She wouldn’t have given him a permanent nickname if she didn’t consider him a friend. “And I’ll tell you just about as much as I /dare/ to tell you. Which is nothing for the moment.”

Kultir laughs at her comment and shakes his head. "Ye'r jes' a close mouthed wench, now ain't ye?" he says, setting his mug down and reaching to the basket of pastries and snagging a couple to munch on. His snack is enough to hold him over till supper at least but he never says no to sweets. "Come on … ye got ye a secret … cain't ye tell me?" He chuckles, taking another bite of a fruit filled sweet pastry, enjoying the chance to tease a friend again.

Lysia laughs aloud when he calls her a closed mouth wench. "Hmm.. well, I may be a /wench/ but I don't know how closed my mouth is about it." She winks at him over the rim of her wine as she takes a swallow of the tart liquid. "And you're taking a big risk calling me on it while eating a pastry /I/ made aren't you?" She chuckles and shakes her head at him. "Let's just say I don't need anyone chasing me 'round the Weyr like they did you and your ol' lady. So I'll just keep my secret well enough to myself, thank you."

Kultir was so ready for her to catch him with a bite in his mouth so he managed to keep his mouth clear for the most part. He'd just washed down the last bite of pastry when she mentions being chased around the Weyr. He inhales a drop of klah and coughs, sputtering a little as he clears his airway. At least he wasn't taking a full drink of the stuff otherwise it would have come out his nose. "Aye … well, yeah. Guess not." he gasps once he can breathe and speak again. However, his mind is working overtime trying to figure out just what she meant.

Lysia laughs when Kultir sputters and coughs. Turnabout is fair play after all. Right? Right. She leans across and nabs the plate he’d pushed away, setting hers on top of it on the edge of the table. Might as well take them with her in a few after all. “Indeed,” she says with a sage nod when he agrees with her. “I’ve been about half afraid /I’d/ get into trouble for just being your friend.” She admits this while reclining in her chair sipping her wine. After all it isn’t like she’s ever planning on dating him. He’s cute and all. But not exactly her type.

Kultir shakes his head at her as she laughs at him. He clears his throat and takes a drink of the klah and settles back in his chair. "Aye … me too, actually. Nervous abou' bein' seen talkin' t' any o' the folks I knew afore they give me this knot." he says with a shrug. Granted he's kept rather to himself since the incident and hasn't shown himself outside of doing as he's told by the weyrlingmaster staff, otherwise hiding in his bunk in the Barracks. At least until today, today he's venturing out a bit more and interacting again though wary of bringing down trouble on his friends.

Lysia doesn't look terribly worried about it. It's just a mild concern she's had when she runs into him. She refuses to leave him to wander around without any friends at all though. So she risks it each time and at least greets him and asks after his health. "I can understand why after what you told me." It's enough to make her nervous about her own situation. And to stay very quiet about it too. "If anyone storms around and asks, I just wanted to check on how you liked your meal." She grins at him and shrugs her shoulders, "I do that often enough to folks when I take a break."

Kultir grins at her and nods slightly. "It's fine. I figure iff'n anyone wants t' cause problems, they will no matter what I do, y' know?" he says, draining his mug with a sigh. He shrugs slightly, staring into his mug with a thoughtful look on his face. "Fig'r they be wantin' us Candidates t' … ye' know, bond like … er somethin'." He sets his mug on the table and laces his fingers around his knee where it's raised to cross with the other.

Lysia has to agree with him and so she nods her head. “I reckon that’s a fact. Sometimes I wonder if folks ‘round here haven’t got anything better to occupy their time.” It isn’t just his own brand of trouble she’s talking about either. Seems to her folks live to make each other miserable some days. “I’d reckon you don’t have any choice /but/ to bond.” She tilts her head and eyes him thoughtfully, “After all aren’t you all crammed into the same barracks?” In her way of thinking you’d about have to at least get to know your direct neighbors in a setting like that.

Kultir laughs softly and nods. "Tha' we are … packed in like salted fish in a barrel." he says, using his own words for how packed the Barracks feels at times. "I know most o' them … least t' call 'em by name. I like some o' them … dunno 'bout bonding though." He reaches for his mug, forgetting that it's empty and sighing when he finds no klah in it. He shrugs and pushes it back onto the table. "How d'ye bond with folks ye got next t' nothin' in common with, eh? Tha's what I be havin' trouble with."

Lysia giggles at his analogy of the barracks life. “Doesn’t sound overly comfortable,” she comments. She was incredibly grateful to have her own accommodations when she arrived. Not having to live in the dorms as she’d feared was a terrible relief to her. “I suppose it’s a good thing you know their names at the very least.” At least he knows who to holler at when he finds dirty laundry on his bunk that doesn’t belong to him. When he asks her what to bond with these people over she is stumped for a few moments. That’s a really good question actually. After a time she shrugs her shoulders helplessly and takes a guess. “I suppose you could bond over the chores? Hate them as a unit or something?”

Kultir grins and nods. "Yeah, that was a chore though … 'bout a hunnert folks in there from 'bout 12 turns t' jes over 20 so I'm 'bout in th' middle." he says, sighing softly. He quirks another smile at the comment of bonding over chores and shrugs. "I like mosta th' chores though … 'cept laundry and latrine duty, o' course. Nobody likes those."

Lysia laughs when he describes the barracks to her. “So even worse than the residents’ dorms?” Her tone hints that she doubts that. After all the Weyr isn’t a small place. And all these people have got to sleep somewhere. “You’re just a spoiled brat is what you’re telling me.” She winks at him and smiles teasingly. When he tells her that he actually likes the chores he’s expected to do she rolls her eyes at him. “Well don’t admit /that/ to anyone. They’ll likely find something completely horrible to make you do.” After all for a few of the candidates working in the kitchens is a fate worse than death. She’s heard all of the complaints.

Kultir laughs along with her when she calls him a spoiled brat and nods slightly. "Course I'm a spoiled brat. I got used t' sleepin' with one other person and now I gotta sleep with a hunnert times that." he replies sarcastically. "An' more'n half o' them snores!" Now he knows what Kalea went through with him, it's like dragon claws on stone … all night long. He shrugs at her warning and smiles slightly. "Already told 'em I'd do chopping duty whenever it needed doin'." So far that's the chore he's been assigned, maybe because he's pretty efficient at it.

Lysia purposely misunderstands him. Her hand flies to her chest and her eyes go wide in shock. “From one to a hundred times /that/?!” She shakes her head and manages to keep a straight face. “No wonder they insist that you all be so young. An’ older man would /die/ of exhaustion after sleeping with a hundred!” She bursts out laughing and pulls her towel over her face for a second. When she drops it back onto her shoulder her eyes are twinkling with merriment. “I assume that chopping wood is certainly relaxing after all that.”

Kultir blushes and laughs, throwing one of the little pellets at her as he sits back in his chair again. "In the same room, Lys!" he pouts at her. "Ye knew what I meant … ye little snip." His eyes sparkle with amusement as he shakes his head. "An' don' ye be givin' me tha' innocent look … we both know ye ain't as innocent as all that." He's got to get his own back, right? It just wouldn't due to be teased so mercilessly by a little slip of a girl.

Lysia tries to hold up her towel as a sort of flimsy shield. Her roll balanced in her lap so that she can tear little bits off of it to throw back at him. “That is /not/ what you said Jungleman. You specifically said you went from sleeping with one to sleeping with better than a hundred.” She laughs as one of his roll bits bounces off her forehead. “I may not be innocent, Jungleman. But at least I’m not sleeping with the entire barracks.” Which neither is he of course! They are simply in the middle of teasing one another and apparently having a food fight.

Sh'ro is far from a little slip of a girl. This will probably be relevant at some point. Stay tuned! For now the greenrider is doing greenridery things like eating while he walks through the cavern. And since he has super greenrider hearing, or just because he's pausing along within hearing distance, he picks out the last of what Lysia says with a laugh. "That would be a feat," he butts himself into the conversation without so much as a hello. "Though by the looks of you, wouldn't surprise me if you were." There's a beat before he realizes that could be taken wrong. "No offense. I mean you're pretty."

Kultir ducks and dodges her thrown pellets and can't help but keep chuckling despite blushing crimson with his ear burning. "Lyyyssiiiiaaa!" he almost whines despite his laughing. "Ye'r gonna get me in trouble, dangit!" And he's already had enough of that to last him a lifetime. Another pellet gets thrown at her until suddenly there is a rider commenting and he groans, dropping his head onto the edge of the table with a thunk. "Awww, shells …" he mutters, just knowing that trouble of some sort is going to come of this. He lifts his head, now creased by the edge of the table, and salutes the man … greenrider by his knot. "Good afternoon, sir." is his polite greeting from his lowly position as a Candidate.

Lysia is having way too much fun to give up now. Though she does relent long enough to turn her smile on Sh'ro. She keeps throwing roll crumbs in Kultir's direction. Managing to still ping him a few times while she's at it. "Hello," she stops throwing crumbs long enough to salute the 'rider. And then she's right back at it. "It's so wonderful of you to admit that he's a pretty lad," she tells Sh'ro with /way/ too much sweetness. "I have begun to think that he doesn't hear it often enough and that's why he's always in such a grouchy mood." Is she setting him up on purpose? Probably. But as she knows that Kalea is his type, she figures he won't get into trouble over it.

If anyone thinks Sh'ro cares about candidates or what might get them in trouble, well, he doesn't. "Yeah, sure. You, too," he says with a vague, very not to standards sort of salute to Kultir before he's licking whatever grease ended up on his fingers off. "I think gorgeous is actually a better word for him. Definitely my type." Which is to say, Lysia isn't so much, pretty as she is. "If you ever want to get your rocks off, man, I'm really good." The greenrider makes a lewd sort of gesture with his hand toward his mouth, his tongue pushing out the corner of his cheek just in case his meaning isn't quite obvious enough. "Sh'ro. You both candidates, then?"

Kultir does his best to act properly in front of the rider but it's really … really hard to do that when Lysia is pelting him with bread pellets. "Lys … knock it off!" he sputters, picking some of them up and throwing them back at her. His ears burn even more at the way she's egging the greenrider on but he can't stop laughing though he's terribly embarassed to get caught acting like a 10 turn old in the middle of the caverns. He slumps down in his chair and wishes that he dared slide right on down under the table but … that might give someone the wrong impression. GULP! He blinks up at the man and is quite a lovely shade of red, nearly maroon heading into purple right now since he's never been called pretty … much less gorgeous by another man before. He'll just pretend he didn't hear that offer, yeah, that'll save face, right? Probably not. "Umm … no, she's not … least not yet anyways." He glares at Lysia, hoping she'll take the hint and leave off pelting him with more pellets.

Lysia's hand falls into her lap when the 'rider actually propositions Kultir. Now /that/ she hadn't been expecting at all. She sits there and blinks at Sh'ro for a moment before she is able to gather her wits enough to answer his question. "No, I'm not a Candidate." Thank Faranth too! From what she's learned of Kultir's candidacy she wants absolutely no part in it. "I'm Lysia the resident baker." She doesn't mention that she's a journeyman. After all her knot is clearly on her shoulder should anyone care about such things. Kultir is the only Candidate here and when she looks at him it's hard not to laugh. The teenager looks like he needs to find a hole to hide in. She tosses her towel over her shoulder and sets her ammo on the table top.

Sh'ro moves around to sit down near Kultir, wagging his brows in a way that is probably meant to make the candidate uncomfortable more than actually continue propositioning him at this point. Overlooking Lysia's knot is only another indication that he's not giving her quite the same attention. "Right, right. Good idea. Being a rider is awful business. Especially for women, you know. Unless you get lucky with one of the big girls, I suppose." Back to Kultir, the greenrider says, oh so friendly, "So what was your name again? You can bet I'll be rooting for you to impress some cute little blue."

Kultir edges back up in his chair now that Lysia is no longer pelting him with bread and sighs though the crimson blush doesn't fade by much. "K-kultir, rider Sh'ro …" he says, voice wavering a bit with left over laughter and a bit of anxiety. His eyes remain on the greenrider who sits … oh so close to him and swallows hard. Uncomfortable? Hell yes! "Ummm … w-w-well … thank you?" The boy is holding himself perfectly still in the same way he'd held himself in the jungles and has that same odd feeling that he's being stalked by a huge feline that wants to make a meal of him. He can feel his insides dancing around and he can't help but squirm just a little in his chair as he shoots a near panic-stricken look at Lysia. *eeps* Save me?

Lysia doesn’t mind all that much that Sh’ro isn’t hitting on her. She’s quite grateful for the fact actually. It’s way too much fun watching Kultir squirm. For a split moment she feels slightly bad that he no longer has the defense of being ‘mated already to a greenrider. His status as a Candidate and then the episode he’d described for her had put paid to that excuse for him. It appears that his knot does not however save him from Sh’ro. His mention of getting lucky with a big girl makes her desire to gag. Instead she reaches for her wine and downs a swallow. “I much prefer a /big/ man actually.” Not that it’s of any relevance exactly. Just a statement of preferences. “And I’m very happy in the kitchens anyway.” They can keep their dragons. She shrugs her shoulders helplessly at Kultir when he shoots her a panicked look.

"Kultir. Nice. Could roll off the tongue a bit nicer. But you're acting like a firelizard with its ass to the flames." Okay, that makes Sh'ro laugh a lot more than it probably should. "Too bad you can't just pop between like they can, huh?" Yeah, he's kind of enjoying this. "I meant a dragon, genius," is added to Lysia. "Big men are nice, though, aren't they? Maybe we have something in common!" That might be a miracle!

Kultir rather feels like a firelizard with its ass to the flames right now! Yes, indeed. He's never been the intense focus of a man before and isn't quite sure what he should do about it. He glances at Lysia and attempts to smirk at her but fails miserably. However, when Sh'ro comments about big men he lets out an undignified squeak as he attempts to speak. "I … " he clears his throat and tries again. "I ain't that big … " he says in weak protest, thinking of how diminutive he looks next to men like Smith Aaron and … and … Shells, there's got to be other much bigger men around, right?

Lysia shrugs her shoulders when Sh’ro calls her out when she’s purposely misunderstood him. “I simply meant that I don’t prefer a dragon dear.” Can’t get any plainer than that. She has no interest in the politics and arrogance that seems to follow in the wake of ‘riders. Her kitchens are a much more comfortable venue. She laughs softly and nods her head, “Big men are quite wonderful.” And she’s betting heavy marks he wouldn’t be big enough. Good thing he’s hitting on Kultir. With enough cooking oil the ‘rider might be the perfect size for poor lil’ Kultir. When Kultir squeaks about not being all that big she can’t help but laugh. “Aww,” she winks at Kultir playfully, “don’t be like that Jungleman.” She is so very much loving this right now.

If Sh'ro thought Kultir wouldn't pee himself or something, he might try to pat his leg comfortingly. As it is, he keeps his hands to himself. "Well, you can't be that old. I bet you still have plenty of growing to do. Besides, if you impress, you'll get even more ripped. Mmm." Wait, that last sound was probably just supposed to be in his head. But Lysia's here to be distracting, at least. "I don't like fucking dragons, either, sweetie. Two things in common. This is great." Though if she thinks there's anything political about Sh'ro, something might be wrong.

Kultir probably would pee himself if Sh'ro tried to touch him just then, but when the man teases Lys he can't help but laugh at her as well. That laugh probably comes out as a tense bark, but it releases some of the tension that had the boy wound tight enough to leap into flight at the first provocation. Now, he's a bit more relaxed and not feeling as trapped as he was. He's even able to tease Lysia again. "Hey … ye ne'er tol' me ye was makin' out wi' a dragon, Lys." he pouts at her, eyes starting to sparkle with merriment rather than terror now.

Lysia has to laugh at Sh’ro for his most recent comment. Now that was actually cute. “Huh,” she tells him and shrugs her shoulders, “go figure.” She can honestly say she’s never met anyone quite like Sh’ro. The man is an odd combination at best. Kultir’s teasing of her earns him a chuckle and a wink. “Why Jungleman you /never/ asked.” She affects a completely innocent expression. A look she manages to maintain for all of three heartbeats and then she’s laughing again.

Enter one massive greenrider. H'ris looks worn to the woof as he enters the Living Caverns, soot-stained and carrying in the stench of firestone and the cold of between on his leathers. The big man lumbers past the tables with people, heading towards the trestle tables, where he begins to pile a plate with an (let's face it) unbelievable amount of food. There doesn't seem to be much discrimination as to what he chooses, either. If it's on a tray, some of it's going on his plate. Then, when food is secured, he snags a mug and a pitcher of klah before heading back and dropping into a seat at a table that is conveniently close to the conversing group. Then he begins to /eat/ said food. The less said about how this might look to the casual observer, the better. But he at least has the decency to swipe at his face with a napkin every now and then.

With Sh'ro's almost prey more relaxed, the greenrider seems slightly less inclined to tease the poor guy so much. Or maybe he's just waiting for the next opportunity to make it super ridiculously uncomfortable for Kultir. That's a fun game. "It's not worth asking, either, man. A lady never tells. They're all hiding things from us. Even my girl hides things. Zaryth, I mean." Since he's made it pretty obvious there isn't another sort of girl, he probably didn't need to point that out. "I don't get it." His attention does get drawn over to H'ris, watching for a few before he actually is nudging Kultir with his elbow to gesture at the other greenrider like it's something they should be watching.

Kultir chuckles softly at the ribbing Lysia gets from Sh'ro and nods knowingly. "Aye … they do at that." he says, sticking his tongue out playfully at Lysia, eyes sparkling with mischief again. "Though iff'n ye was … I fig'red ye'd be walkin' a bit funny, ye know? Like ye was earlier?" He winks at her and then stiffens … in more ways /than/ one, when the greenrider at his side nudges him and gestures at H'ris. He nods and then gapes at the amount of food on the man's plate. Hey! Another man who's /much/ bigger than the boy is. See? They do exist!

Lysia does in fact have her share of secrets and so she doesn’t feel inclined to argue with Sh’ro. After all the man is correct. How can you argue with that? When Sh’ro nudges Kultir she finds that she’s curious and turns to spot H’ris at the next table inhaling his food. Nothing exciting to see there actually. She has herself a swallow of wine. Kultir teasing her draws her attention back to him and she blushes mightily when he calls her out on her soreness. How did the guy /know/?! “What do you do?” She asks Kultir and grins at him, “Hide outside my door at night?” She rolls her eyes at him and continues on with the teasing atmosphere.

H'ris seems unaware of his audience, or maybe he doesn't mind being watched. In either case, it's a long couple of minutes of steady eating before he turns to regard the others, thumb jammed into his mouth as he slurps sausage grease from his skin. His brow lowers as he notes the attention, and he pulls his thumb from his mouth with an audible popping sound. "What?"

"Now that is a beautiful man," says Sh'ro. Except this time it's pretty obvious that he's being facetious. It doesn't keep him from grinning at the other greenrider, though. It's a defense mechanism, really. Just in case H'ris decides he's being insulting or something. "See, Kultir. Huge men are majestic beasts. You'll be one of those one day. And then you'll have all the boys and girls swooning at your… crotchal area. Well, plenty anyway. Not sure about Lys here."

Kultir snaps his gaze away from H'ris and his scarfing of food when the man asks what they are staring at and flushes slightly for being caught staring. But, thankfully, Lys gives him a reason to look elsewhere. "Of course not … you know they lock us in the Barracks at an early hour. Just saw ye mincin' around at breakfast … that's all." he teases, giving her a sly wink. Sh'ro's words send his gaze back to H'ris and he frowns slightly, cocking his head slightly at the rider closest to him. Then, he blushes … again … forgoing crimson and heading straight for purple this time. He unconsciously shifts his position so that the tail of his tunic, what isn't tucked into his waistband that is, can cover part of the … *ahem* aforementioned body area. He laughs nervously at the comment about Lysia but again, it's an undignified twitter of sound, not at all like his normal noises.

Lysia snorts that the thought of swooning at Kultir's crotch. She very highly doubts he's impressive enough for that. Though.. she tilts her head and eyes Kultir for a moment. Eh, maybe. But most likely not. "Definitely not Lys," she responds with a shake of her head. She grins at Kultir almost apologetically. After all she did have quite the crush going for the guy. Did being the operative word there. She has a new crush at the current moment. And one that isn't embroiled in scandal. "I do not mince around," she defends herself. Though her blush is a rival to Kultir's at the moment. She hadn't been walking strangely. Had she? Oh dear! She must have been and that makes her suddenly shy.

H'ris' mouth quirks to one side when Lysia confirms that fun was indeed had, and he nods. "See? So mince away, an' fuck those what cain't keep their noses out'n your business." Speaking of which, Sh'ro's lean-in to Kultir gets another narrowing of the big greenrider's eyes, and he inhales through his nose. "You's goin' to kill that boy," he drawls lazily at his wingmate, eyes half-lidded as he returns to eating. "An' then you'd /really/ be in for it. Whyn't you ease up, an' let the lad get some blood back to his brain?"

As far as Sh'ro is concerned, he's gotten his answer, anyway. And though he makes a face at H'ris, he does finally reach out to pat Kultir on the leg and rise up from where he's sitting. "I guess I don't want to kill you, handsome. Not like this, anyway." Sh'ro just made death sound suggestive, yes. He's probably never actually killed anyone, though. And since he's going to give Kultir some space, Sh'ro will go and crowd H'ris instead. Fair's fair. "You're no fun at all," he accuses the other greenrider. "Maybe you can calm him down again," is added to Lysia with a nod toward Kultir.

Kultir forgets how to breathe the moment the greenrider pats his leg, or is that just another sign that death approaches? However, when the man stands and goes over to crowd next to H'ris things start to work again. He blinks as he gasps softly for air and lifts a trembling hand to smooth back his hair, fully expecting to find it soaked with sweat and surprised that it's perfectly dry after his bath … probably all the heat in his face did that. He shifts in his seat, wincing slightly when the movement proves a bit … painful and decides there's no way he's getting up to leave right now. He smiles shakily at Lysia and then at the two greenriders and mumbles, "S-s-sorry …" Still rather new to the weyr, still just a boy despite no longer being a virgin … and very … frustrated by the restrictions on the Candidates. Poor kid.

Lysia looks over at H’ris and chuckles. “I suppose that you’re right,” she tells him with a shrug of her shoulder. When H’ris chastises Sh’ro she chokes in an effort not to laugh out right. Kultir does in fact look like he might faint. She watches Sh’ro leave off toying with Kultir in favor of playing with H’ris. Though when it’s suggested that /she/ calm Kultir down she simply shrugs her shoulders. “I’m not sure how I’d go about that exactly.” After all as his friend she’s privy to a whole lot of things about Kultir. The knack for calming him down isn’t one of them. “About the only person that can solve /his/ problem isn’t allowed anywhere near him.” And Lys isn’t about to volunteer to take the woman’s place and lose her own knot in the process. No thanks! She takes a measure of pity on Kultir when he apologizes to her. “Nothing to worry yourself over.” She won’t hold it against him that she’s had to discuss her personal life with two near perfect strangers. At least not today.

"I'm fun," H'ris protests, seemingly less bothered by Sh'ro's crowding than Kultir was. "I'm all kinds o' fun." He jerks a thumb at his chest, pulling his chin down in a sharp nod. "I'm more fun than a whore on a restday, in th' right situation." He pops a savory little tart into his mouth and offers a wide, close-mouthed smile at Sh'ro as he chews. Then a thought occurs to him, and he frowns. "Why? You ain't heard different, has you? My Qyth ain't gone up since we jumped, so I ain't had much o' a chance to build up a good word o' mouth." Kultir and Lysia seem forgotten, with the attention shifted from Candidate and Random Girl Torture. Or maybe H'ris is giving the kid a chance to escape, if he wants. Either way, his lazy attention is on Sh'ro. "What with drills an' gettin' settled an' all."

Sh'ro is a man that's easily distracted, so if H'ris is trying to give Kultir a means of escape, it will no doubt work. "I don't know. Show him your boobs or something," are his last words to Lysia for now. Boobs are interesting, sure, but they don't do anything particularly exciting for him. Obviously everyone else is exactly the same way. "Qyth going up wouldn't do me much good anyway," he points out, slipping into a seat beside H'ris and scooting closer, elbow on the table to prop his head up in his hand. "Not unless you get all handsy before, anyway." Sh'ro looks at H'ris' hands more carefully to see if they're as big as the rest of him. "Someone fun would make time for all that," he challenges.

Kultir is quite embarrassed by his actions, the greenrider was only flirting after all and … he's seen that enough times he should have been able to handle it better, right? Maybe not, he's never been the one being flirted at by another man after all. He blinks as he watches Sh'ro start flirting with the other greenrider and manages a weak chuckle, mostly at himself though. He's quite glad that the focus is currently off him anyway and tries to shove himself onto his feet. It takes him a couple tries but eventually he's standing, a bit stiff legged, but standing. He sends a smile to Lysia as he totters toward the cavern entrance muttering something about needing to go … chop some wood. And off he heads, walking like a toddler with a full diaper.

Lysia drinks the last of her wine and sets the empty mug atop the plates. As she has no intention what so ever of showing anyone here her boobs she simply shakes her head at Sh’ro’s suggestion. “Well,” she says in general as she shoves herself out of her seat and collects the dirty dishes on the table top, “it’s been interesting. But I should really be getting back to work.” She looks after Kultir as he literally waddles out of the caverns and shakes her head. Her soft chuckling can be heard as she heads off in the direction of the kitchens.

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