==== January 8, 2014
==== K'ane, Teya, Mayte
==== Shopping expedition in the Bazaar!

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.
It is the twenty-fourth day of Autumn and 89 degrees. It is a hot, miserable night.

Being a baby-mama-in-waiting means that K'ane is going to buy ALL THE THINGS, because that's who he is. It also means that he tells a ton of embarassing stories, like getting turned down by Lendai for pity sex. "An' then… she just walked off. An' I was like, fuckin' seriously? I can't even get laid by Lendai?" Yeah, that's K'ane, strolling along with Teya, talking animatedly with his hands. He's a fair amount more scruffy than the time he went to Southern, notably.

And here is Teya, content to let K'ane buy ALL THE THINGS (to a sensible point) and reliably aghast, both hands over her mouth and her groaned, "Oh no, she didn't," that still ends on a slghtly-swallowed laugh. "K'ane, that's — well. You always have said she's a little," she gestures, expansive and cheerful and finger-wiggled toward her head. "Which I still feel terrible disloyal for saying, but-" But evidence. She is the fluff to his scruff, all loose fuzzy curls held out of her face by a headband today, in loose pants and loose shirt and all kinds of round, just a little glowy in under the tired tacked onto the back of her smile. "So what did you do?"

"There are many fish in th' sea." That's K'ane's sage response to that, smirking askance to Teya. "I went fishin'." And caught something a little less … Lendaiy. Y'know. There are a few of those around. "Though I need t' go find Hannah, sooner'r later, an' let her know how big of a dip she is." THAT'S RIGHT HANNAH, YOU ARE A DIP. K'ane and Teya are wandering through the bazaar, K'ane loaded down with bags of goods, chatting animatedly about… something or another.

"But it still stings when one spits out your lure, am I right?" Which is obviously why K'ane brought it up. "It's not like Hannah could have known she'd say no, I mean," thank Faranth that Teya is not so large as to waddle, yet, but there is an extra bit of roll to her usual cop's stride as they amble. And as she scrambles, back a half step to gesture, grand, up and down K'ane. "I mean really. I wouldn't say no. Would you like me to tell her?" The frizz-fluff of her curls bounces almost as one as she tilt-tips her head to one side, just a tiny touch of sly in her smile that doesn't actually diminish the earnest in her eyes over, "I mean, the last time you - it was a flight, and it made Kari, she may not remember." Teya, baby-mama wingman.

Mayte darts out of the side street, looking a little harried and annoyed. The apprentice is taking a walk to avoid saying whatever her expression might be, between annoyed and needing a long, serious drink. She's walking, she's walking… okay, she's steaming. And she's marching along, until she's nearly walking into Eoll… Wait, no. Now the dark-haired apprentice looks up and pauses, guilt warring with annoyance: "Uh, sorry about that, miss." No, she hasn't heard anything of what they're talking about, "I thought you were my Journeywoman." Cuz all pregnant women look the same, right? A similarly almost-apologetic look up at K'ane. O hai.

"Yeah," K'ane, semi-gloomy. "Oh well. Least I didn't get her pregnant." Which is a very seriously valid concern whenever K'ane and fishing is concerned, if y'know… what he means. His grin over to her at the compliment is fond and wry wrapped together. "S'what got us into this in th' first place, now, wasn't it?" He pauses, because he's caught the eye of something, and walks over to a booth. "What's Rygs think about potted plants, again?" It's a serious question. Looking over his shoulder, he has a semi-surprised smile for Mayte. "H'llo."

"Oh!" is the startled exclamation of someone who every day overcomes the unfair obstacle of her own feet and now faces the added challenge of a changed center of gravity. It isn't quite a collision, or there might be a rider-apprentice heap on the ground, but Mayte's near-miss is enough that Teya windmills a bit, ungainly, before re-orienting herself. (There was a bit of a graspy-hand for K'ane's elbow during that, coming up empty thanks to his relocation as well.) "Mayte," she remembers! "No, wrong pregnancy, sorry — looks all a bit the same from the side though, doesn't it?" There's some gesturing. At least her sleeves are semi-graceful. To K'ane, once she's gotten her bearings again and has drift-rolled in his newfound direction, she returns his grin in kind and reminds, "It's not like it's going to happen again while I am - he is," was there actually a subject change there? Yes, okay, there was, "ambivalent about potted plants. They might make the office look less bare, but the baby might - eat them? I think he vastly overestimates the mobility of fresh humans."

Oh Faranth, baby talk. Sort of. Mayte's expression goes from semi-sorry to resigned in about five seconds, but she manages to draw out a weary, honest smile, "Hello, sir. Miss Teyash…" Quit while you're ahead, girl: "Teya." It takes a moment for that weary smile to become slightly mischevious as Mayte thinks that through. "No, no, your pregnancy is actually pretty distinct," Mayte says earnestly, "Because I haven't heard anything about it." Try having a pregnant J-woman for a while! Ahem. "I'm glad I didn't run ya over. Sorry 'bout that." A look up at K'ane in curiosity, "Babies eat plants?" Yup, Mayte tries not to know of these things. Except when it's polite conversation.

K'ane was not there; he looks properly apologetic for it. "Whups. Okay, no potted plants." NOTED. He wanders back over to the almost-incident and squints at Mayte THOUGHTFULLY. "Teyaschianniarina," he rattles through it with a flourish. "Such a bitch, ain't it?" His cheerful grin to said-named individual is impish. "Well, better plants 'n alcohol, I'd think. Or klah. Can y'imagine a baby on klah?" He shakes his head. "I tried t'keep Aikari off it forever, an' now she's about overwhelmed me with all th' demands for it." Sadface.

"He likes maps," because of course he does, "…and Threadfall charts. That can go on the walls and be out of - reach." Possibly Ryglinath shouldn't be consulted when it comes to interior design. "Show-off," is low-voiced, and she applies her elbow to the bronzerider's ribs once he's in range. "I think they eat everything they can get their hands on," she admits, "once they can, you know, get their hands on. I won't bore you with details, though." K'ane might, though. Never can tell. Speaking of, "I've been trying to put her off with tea, but - that's going, you know. It's just not the same. Babies on klah would be - pshewww." She makes a little zoomy take-off gesture with her hand.

Let's try this again: "Teyaschiannianianiarina?" The look of concentration on her face should be adorable, except she concentrated on the wrong part. Hands lift skyward with the helplessness of it, "I'm sorry, Miss Teya, my tongue just ain't working like it should today." What's more interesting than babies? Maps: Mayte is happy to contribute, "We're lookin' at some maps of the area, for better sandstorm coverage for the vines…" You know, in case that's interesting: "Or maybe Harper Sara could copy a few of… Uh, the Weyrleader's formation charts?" Mayte's guessing pure and simple now, but she doesn't know what a dragon's interested in; she's just looking hopeful at her attempt.

K'ane seems a little awed. "Damn, Tey'," he states idly, "She made y'name even LONGER." Beat: "What about mango? Y'want some mangos? They're sellin' mangos over there." He gestures with his chin to yon cart with the exotic fruits. "I ain't buyin' you any maps," then stateth the bronzerider, just because he can.

Teyaschianniarina echoes K'ane's awe, but adds in a little abashed of her own. "It's a little hard to get it stopped once you've gotten it going," she admits, "which is why just plain Teya will more than do." If Pern had prairie-dogs then Teya's head-swivel would have an analogue, but the polite-attention paid Mayte turns to focused attention on K'ane in half a heartbeat. "I like mangos," she informs him, solemn and a little bit disturbingly intent, "I want mangos. We're getting mangos, K'ane." K'ane is getting his arm hooked in hers, in fact. "Mayte, do you like mangos? Mangos are happening." Beat. "I also like maps, you know."

Mayte grins, nodding: "Teya." Yup, that's definitely relief even if this conversation has been tried more than once - Mayte's always good to try something twice. It takes a moment longer for the younger woman to look up (and up) at K'ane than Teya, but she will nod agreeably, "They're pretty tasty. Gotta watch out for that rum that some people make of them though." Mayte should know: "It'll knock you on your ass if you have too much at once." Mangoes and maps. Mayte giggles a little, "Just maybe not maps of mangoes. Or mangoes on maps." Who has baby-brain now??

"Mangos it is," K'ane announces. He goes to procure them, womenfolk in hand, enough for the three of them with extra mangos for the purveyor of such (that being Teya). For the time being, he just shoots the two of them a WEIRD LOOK for mapping mangoes and will be content to be a dedicated bag-holder and not-map-buyer, like all well-trained men.

That's okay, Teya can totally buy herself a map.

"My maps are mostly outdated," Teya explains around a mouth full of mango, once they have been procured and parceled out. "So I really do need to get more," there is a noise from K'ane, which is either derision or throat-clear. "-later. We're shopping for," she wrinkles her nose, and gestures (with her mango in hand) at the assorted bags and baubles K'ane carries. (And has probably done the majority of picking-out for, let's be real here.) "Things."

Mayte nibbles on her own mango, wiping away juice that tries to trail down from the corner of her mouth. "You're from before, though," Mayte deduces, "So your maps must be as old as…" no, that wicked glint in her eye isn't a crack at Teya: "As A'lory!" Toldja! K'ane gets examined out of the corner of a dark, gleeful eye for the bags, because a wise apprentice knows when to investigate, "And now you're looking for things to make your weyr more comfy?" Alas, Mayte looks a bit disappointed, "I can't suggest anything in my store." Though her eyes dart to the tall bellbo… K'ane, "Unless the sir would like something?" What's more saccharine than ripe mango? Mayte's tone right now. "A celebratory aperitif?" You know, assuming and all that.

"At least," Teya agrees, with a brief upwards side-eye that ends in a grin and another mouthful of messy fruit. Sticky. Someone's getting a bath later. "Some might be even older, my dad gave me a bunch of his charts and stuff before we," abandoned them to be dead several hundred turns in the past, "jumped forward. I apparently don't have enough things, and it is an embarrassment. Or something. I'm just kind of along for the ride," and enjoying it, it seems. "Is an aperitif a drink-thing? Does it go with steak? There is going to be steak," this is definitely also directed backward and up, firm, "but there might be kebabs first. If we find some. While we're shopping."

Mayte will not hide her amazement; something that's older than A'lory! "But you can keep em up, or something, right? Like, a display?" This from the girl who's been trolling in the Archives: "I saw a bunch of old maps in the Library a while ago that were really neat. Like, seeing how the Weyr has changed. Did you know," Mayte asks, her excitement rising and mango juice starting to require more frequent wipings, "That the Bazaar hasn't always been here?" So important is her message that Mayte forgets that, yeah, they probably knew that. And for aperatif? Mayte waves a mangoey hand, "It's a fancy word for a light alcoholic drink." But that's not important right now, though, "And yeah, it goes with steak." And unfortunately for K'ane and Teyaschianniarina, Mayte has caught onto an idea of maps of the old Weyr and is loathe to let this go. She'll follow them around the rest of their shopping (or what there is left of it), gabbing on about almanacs and old predictions of weather until a fellow vintner apprentice comes and quietly leads the girl away, back to where she can chatter on about how someone had a theory that once, once, Igen was lush and green. Can you imagine??