==== Feb. 18, 2014
==== Muirnin, Veresch, Ez'iah
==== New Bronzerider comes to the weyr and makes his first impression a 'good' one before there's girl-talk on the beach.

Who Muirnin, Veresch, Ez'iah
What Meetings & Confessions
When Feb. 18, 2014
Where Lake Shore
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Lake Shore
Sprawled out beyond the Weyr proper's hustling activity and ambling roads, the cool, blue paradise of the Weyr lake promises escape from the oppressive hammer of Igen summer's cruel climes; the asymmetrical, sandy white shores hook delicately around the deceptively still waters running deep and sure, greedy peninsulas reaching white fingers stretching in crooked lines towards its center. A sturdy shack, weather-beaten and brown as cured leather, resides in isolated splendor upon one such finger, screened shelving offering a variety of brushes and fragrant oils housed in colorful tureens. Out beyond a small and dusty paddock ringed by a white fence, a long rocky pier stabs out into the lake, providing a panoramic view of the Weyr itself, while the southern shores provide varied shrubs and grassed for the massed herds in their pens.


Muirnin is sitting at back edge of cold wintery sands, looking out across the lake. A cloak and shawl both around her shoulders, she looks distracted and tired, a rough day in the nursery perhaps. Hearing footsteps, she looks over her shoulder for an instant and then back out across the water. She's been a little pouty since the other day, but after a couple sleepless nights and pulling double duty between her usual tasks and helping in the infirmary as commanded, now she's just mostly tired.. evident by the yawn she tucks under the edge of her cloak when she looks away from you.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. The sound of footsteps on wet sand has a light beat to them, a quickfootedness that suggests someone light curving around the belly of the lake. With it comes Resh, bundled up into something between a cloak and a jacket and, though the hood hasn't been drawn over her face yet, she looks warm. Her hands are out of sight, tucked into her pocket, and there's a small smile as she veers towards the nanny and sits down at her side. "Hello, Muirnin. You look as if you want to fall asleep here."

It's been a day for Ez'iah. Transferring from one Weyr to another is exhausting, even when one such as him can hire others to move his belongings for him. His new home set up, the bronze pair decide to check out their new surroundings. Lech takes off and heads for the lake, landing with ease a little ways away from what looks like two people currently occupying the sandy beaches. The young man untangles himself from his leathers, and quickly dismounts. His jacket is opened and helmet removed as he stares around. Nhilechisonovath makes a rumbling noise, which only causes the man to roll his eyes. "You need to think less of rising greens and getting laid, Lech, and more about how to squirrel in good with the Weyrleader." Exasperation is the name of the game. The bronze makes more grumblings, his head dipping and gesturing towards the other occupants of the lake. Turning, Ez'iah glances at Veresch and Muirnin, but makes no move to join them.

Muirnin stands as the bronze lands, her head turning to cover her face from any airborne grit as he does. "I did double duty for three days. My mother is of the hall O'ell sent me to serve my penance, and thought it was funny I'd sassed a Rider. She didn't let me off my Nanny duties, and I worked with her in the evenings for three days straight. I'm exhausted, but it's done, and so be it," she says. There's no tone of pouting or regret to her voice, lesson learned it seems, but there's a little flare of nostril when she speaks of her mother denoting lack of love lost. Seeing the rider dismount, she turns her eyes to flicker across him, brows knitting together a little. "I don't recognize him," she says quietly to the younger girl before calling out. "Greetings!" if for no other reason than to be polite.

There's a sideways, curious look as the bronze and rider come close; though Veresch stares for a moment or two there's no recognition, and that's strange enough to make her frown. Still, beyond a polite dip of her head and a slightly wince for the way his words travel in the cold evening air, she doesn't make the attempt to get closer. And see, then Muirnin goes and does the polite thing. "You get used to it," she tries to comfort Muirnin - her mother is infamously bad as well - and claps a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Hot bath, good night's sleep, and hopefully you'll be okay in a day or so." Adjusting her posture slightly, she tugs the cloak-cape-thing a little more tightly around her, and picks to stare at the bronze's evening-faded light colours, eyes going just slightly out of focus as her mind begins to rest.

Nhilechisonovath gives a nudge to his rider in the direction of the two ladies, which causes a growl of irritation to be released from Ez'iah. "Fuckin' fine." He grumbles, standing tall and moving closer and closer. Lech is rather beside himself with glee, shifting from foot to foot as his rider nears the ladies. Ez'iah stops before Veresch and Muirnin, giving each girl a long, long look over, before scoffing. "Crackdust, you both are quite homely, aren't you? The lasses at Southern were much prettier." Arms are crossed and his head shaken, before he throws a look over his shoulder and shouts to his bronze beast. "You're wrong, Lech! They ain't good looking at all!" Back to the two, he tilts his head to the side, "Neither you a greenrider, I'm hoping? Rather not be waking up in bed next to you. I've got a degree of standard, you see." A small, tiny smirk ticks up on the man's lips, mirth dancing in his eyes. Igen, meet Ez'iah. He's an asshole.

Muirnin blinks at the manchild, pushing her hood back to squint her miss-matched eyes at him for a moment. "Nope, not a rider at all, thank the Shard! If I had to be claimed for a flight between the two of you," she nods back at the bronze, "I'd envy my Dragon. He's the pretty one of you two," she shoots back, her exhaustion visible but held at bay now by the sharp snap in her eyes as the verbal swordplay wakes her up a bit. "And what brings you here to our .. lowly beach.. then, Rider? Hopefully just a glorified message boy and you'll be going back to where you came from?" she asks with a sweet lilt to her voice and head cocked to the side a touch.

Excuse /me/. Veresch's expression, which had been softening as her mind wandered, sharpens in an instant, and the look she gives the rider pair might as well have been bladed, sharp and stabby. For a moment she lets Muirnin's sally stand alone. Then, "And why didn't you just stay in Southern with all the pretty girls then?" It's surly, insulted, that tone. "Not that… you know what you can go and do with your standards?" Blink. Wait. Stare. "You nicknamed your dragon lech?" There's curiosity and helpless hilarity at that, and a renewed gaze at the bronze. Perhaps there's at least one pleasant entity in this matchup?

That small smirk turns into a grin now, though Ez'iah's eyes do flash. "Awww, look at that. A woman who thinks she's people. That's precious." The bronzerider runs a hand through his hair, deciding if Muirnin's questions are worthy of attention. Apparently they are, as he does answer in some manner. "You would be wise to watch your tongue in the presence of a dragonrider. More importantly, a bronzerider. Unless you enjoy being punished?" It's a threat and yet not, arms being released from their crossed position as his manner takes on that of someone bored and quite lofty. "Checking this place out, not that it is any of your business. I just moved in." Teeth flash. "Guess we'll all be neighbors of a type." A look crosses over his face, it's that same irritation. "Aye, I did. And he quite likes it. Suits him. He likes flights, a lot. Makes some rather inappropriate comments." The Lordling behavior comes through here, the man seeming almost prude-esque for only a moment. Lech, having heard his name, perks his head up from his location over there. Hey baby. How YOU doin'?

Muirnin looks toward the dragon and smiles a little. "Yes, you are the good one," she decides. Then, to his comment about women she laughs, soft and low, natural alto tones taking on a bit of honey as she refuses to get her feathers ruffled. "Aaah.. so women aren't people? I'm sure your Queen rider would love to hear that one. Or your mother? Or .. hmm.. maybe Tuli, or Sadie," she says, turning to look at Resch for her input with a little wink. "I'm sure they'd love to hear how women aren't people."

Veresch looks away, considering the tips of her boots rather than That Ass standing there, or his (possibly nicer) dragon in the shallows. "I'm pretty sure they won't be impressed either if they know why we're being rude. Do you tell all girls that you just meet that they're homely and not worth sleeping with?" Blink, blink. "Just the ugly ones, right? If this is what Southern breeds these days, no wonder they're kicking you out." Snarling aside, the moment the remark is out her head drops; she's well aware that it was uncalled for. "Muir," she says tiredly, but there's no comment that comes after that, and it might have been agreement with Muirnin's words or not.

"Don't be so daft." Ez'iah states, exasperated. "Just like a woman to be all emotional. There are women and then there are Women." See? The capital makes all the difference. "My mother is a Lady Holder. Tuli and Sadaiya are goldriders. Even those blasted females riding male dragons," cue an eye-twitch here. "have some merit. There are different kinds, different… breeds, if you will." Shoulders are shrugged. "Seems you are simply the herdbeast, while the others are prized runners. Shame, but not everyone is bred with perfection." Y'know, like he is. A slight shake of the head for Veresch, "Of course not. I assure you, I can be quite the gentleman, when the situation calls for it. This situation," his voice falls flat. "does not. You appear tired," Ez'iah points to Muirnin, "and hard-worked. A real lady would not appear as such, she does not need to lift a finger when her Blood is pure. And you," his nose is wrinkled at Veresch. "What are you, like, ten turns old? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

There are things that girls can still shrug off hearing, and then there are things that are so far beyond okay that reaction is virtually guaranteed, as if it's a button on a puppet. Veresch's hands strangle in the cloth the all-enveloping cloak-thing is made of, and she slips to her feet with a quick bound that those older might rue not being able to do anymore. Besides, he's picking on her friend, and that's going to earn him a kick in a private place. "You don't talk to her like that!" she snarls out, voice strangled with quick-spark anger. "No one whose mother is a real Blooded Lady would be discourteous enough to say something like that! And I'm not a kid, you wherry-faced ass! Even if I Impressed one day, I'd not sleep with you to stave off a Thread attack!"

You say, "Then thank the Shard I'm not a real Lady. I would rather be a Woman who works and makes herself useful rather than riding on the backs of other people, lazy and fat." Funny really, considering she's a bit of a thick chunk herself. Her laugh comes softly, a little shake of her head given as she looks past the rider and at his lifemate almost apologetically, poor beautiful creature, saddled with such an ass on his back. Having heard Resch's soft call of her name and then her blow up for him insulting her, she blinks in no little amount of surprise, never having expected such venom from the younger girl on her behalf. After a deep breath she sighs and tries to cool her inner flame, not needing another stint in the healer's for her mouth. She reaches out as if to smooth her hand over the girl's back. "I regret greeting him," she says as if he's not standing right there. "Not worth the breath to have to take in his idea of 'good breeding'," she says, biting back some unkind comment about newtimers, shifting her body to the side and effectively dismissing him from the conversation, not even looking at him again. "Have you had a long day?" she asks of her friend, turning the focus away from the bronzerider and to Resch with a tone of motherly worry. "That was a bit prickly of you, though I appreciate the sentiment of it, I don't want you getting in trouble on my behalf."

Yep. Nhilechisonovath has stayed out of this long enough. The lanky bronze picks himself up from his place on the sandy beach and walks over, eyes swirling blue with flecks of red. Ez'iah may be about to say something scathing and mean to both ladies once again, but his attention is snapped away by his dragon. His eyes glaze over and an unheard argument erupts. It takes a few minutes, a multitude of expressions crossing over his face. This could take a while, except suddenly, Ez'iah throws his hands in the air and shouts, "FINE!" He's turning towards Muirnin and Veresch before giving each lady a sweeping bow. The curses thrown at him are ignored entirely, so engrossed in his actions. Turns upon turns of lessons flow through his movements, his bow finished as he's standing straight once more. "Milady and milady. It has been a torturous day, and I do believe I took it out on both of you… uneedly." Just ignore that eyetwitch. "You were easy targets from a frustrated man. I… do hope you will forgive my hurtful words. I truly apologize." It almost burns to say, but the words are out. "Lech says I have an awful way with women, he says Igen is the place to… better learn my," TWITCH. "place." TWITCHTWITCH. "Again. I am so very, very sorry."

"I'm tired of guys telling me that I'm ugly and not worth anything," Veresch grits out to Muirnin, back shivering with tension underneath the hand. "I don't need some… bronzerider to tell me again. And he's got no right telling you, so…" Oh. Wait. Apologies. Flowery ones at that. They make Veresch stare at Ez'iah suspiciously, and then the dragon — she might not be a rider, but when one comes towards you with red in their eyes, a little caution is a good thing. The pause stretches out. Eventually, to make herself look a little bigger, she crosses her arms over her chest. Then, "Apology accepted." Her tone is flat; it's clear she's not buying it, but he said it, so it deserves a response. "But you still need to tell us that we're pretty." Ahaheh, no, he's not escaping that easily.

Muirnin takes pause when the dragon comes forward too, but when there's no snapping of teeth and the argument seems to be between rider and dragon, she keeps her lips pressed in a thin rosy line. Then, the skies open up and lightening strikes as Ez actually twitches his way through an apology. "Well, there's some manners there after all," she muses and then looks to the Lech and says "Thank you," as if realizing he would have carried on if it weren't for his lifemate's interference. If acknowledged or even understood by the bronze, it matters not, she feels better for the politeness. Hearing Veresch's condition to his apology, she almost snorts out a laugh, a hand coming up to quickly cover the indelicate sound with a cough. "If it pleases the little lady, I would like to hear it too," she says, standing taller, as if it would thin out her thick frame a bit. As she waits, she tucks away Resch's little rant for later questioning.

Of course he does. Ez'iah had a feeling he wasn't going to get out of this unscathed. Teeth are grit, he's about to say something else, but Nhilechisonovath to the rescue! A growl from the bronze has Ez'iah smacking his lips closed and then taking a deep, loooong breath. "You, m'dear," He stands in front of Veresch first, "have the loveliest locks that my eyes have witnessed in many a turn. Like waves of midnight, caressing the skies. Have no fear, while you might be young, in the turns to come, you'll only blossom further." He looks back to Lech, the dragon then looking at Muirnin. "Fuckin' fine, you stupid ass." Ez'iah grumbles before moving toward the older of the two ladies. "And you have a figure most men would fight another for. If I may borrow a term I had heard my former Weyrwoman use, it is quite," Ahem. "Curvalicious." A sigh leaves his mouth then and he's turning and walking away. There is no good bye to either female. Instead it's just annoyed claps of his booted foot smashing into the sands. Lech, however, does give a rumble, before running off after his dragonrider.

Gragh. Graaaaagh. "I don't accept your apology after all!" she shouts as the bronze takes off, soaring into the sky, fists clenched at her sides and angry — hoo-boy, angry. "I hate men!" she explodes to Muirnin as she stomps back to her seat. "Blossom in the coming turns? I want to like women, they smell better at least, and they're nicer!" From the look of her though, that is not an option. She sulks down into a seated position again. "Hair of midnight whatever my ass. Why can't all of them be like A'dan? He's so nice, Muir, you wouldn't believe it. It's no fair we can't punch them when they're being asses like that."

Muirnin follows you over and sits beside you. "You do have pretty hair, and at least you got something out of him.. which I didn't expect for how he started. I know you don't want to hear this, but you're just now coming of age and I promise you, boys aren't the end all be all of the world!" she says with a soft smile, giving her knee a little nudge with one of her own. "Curvalicious though, really? Made up words and then him fleeing the beach. Ha! At least his Dragon seems a good match if he can get him to behave a little," she half chuckles. "But tell me, who's put such a tack in your britches? Who do I have to smack for calling you ugly or what ever happened to make you rant so much?" she asks with concern, tipping her head down a little to look you in the eye. "And who is A'den.. a boy you like?"

"A'dan…" There's such an embarrassed, sweet sigh for that. "No. I mean, he's very nice and all, but he looks old enough to be my father. He gave me a ride back to the Weyr though, and his bronze…" She pinches her eyes shut at the memory of that moment, diving down and seeing the lake come closer at such reckless, breakneck speeds. Her nose wrinkles when she snaps out of it. "I looked at Yukie, and then I looked at my own reflection. And at Freesia, and. It's not about boys. I just want to punch someone, I guess. And he had no right talking to us like that, he sounded just like the men from the bazaar, all 'you're only good enough to have babies and not be seen.' Not that there would have been babies with this one, since we were both too homely to sleep with." Veresch's opinion on children is well known; she despises the thought of having kids and cleaning up after them.

Muirnin makes a snorting half giggle, the side of her hand coming up under her nose to stop the sound. She really has to stop aborting her giggles, she sounds like a piglet! "Again, you're just coming into your own, and you are NOT ugly, or homely or even plain. You're a pretty girl who's only going to get prettier as you grow up," she soothes, fingers coming up to play with a bit of her hair at the ends. "And trust me, liking girls isn't all it's cracked up to be. I like both, and honestly, wouldn't even look at half the women I know like that. They're all crazy," she winks at you with a playful level of conspiracy to her tone. "You're a smart and sweet girl who needs to not put so much stock in what other people think of her," she says, as if it were just that easy. Knowing better, she adds a comforting little squeeze of your arm to her words. "And give yourself time, boys really aren't worth all this irritation. When he's the right one, you'd look beautiful even if you just came out from mucking runner stalls."

That statement gets Muirnin a curious look. "You do?" she asks, surprised but not bothered in any way. "I guess so. I mean, the guys can't have all the crazy, right?" Though it's cold she stretches out on her back on the sand, all the better to look up at the stars's frosty-looking majesty. "He was kind of pretty," she admits grudgingly minutes later of poor Ez'iah. "I mean, if he had only kept his mouth shut. Imagine being Blooded and a rider. Still! My father says good breeding doesn't excuse anything; he's oftened snipped a bull that's just too temperamental to be let loose amongst the herds. Says sometimes it's the only way to calm them down." She tosses Muirnin a quick smile and a nose-wrinkle. "No one looks good fresh from the stables!" she challenges with a bit of a grin. "I'll, you know, try to remember. Thanks for the advice, and I'm glad you're done with your extra duties."

Muirnin gives a little shrug when you look at her surprised for that moment, letting the topic of her sexuality slip away. When you lay to look up, she leans back on her hands, head back to follow your gaze skyward. "All the good breeding in the world doesn't give you honor. That's something you have to grow into a sense of, and some never do," she says ruefully. "But yeah," she sighs heavily, "he was pretty cute until he opened his mouth. Maybe if you put a bit in his mouth?" she says with a sly grin, shoulders and breasts bouncing then with the airy laugh she gives at the idea. It passes though and she nods. "Me too. Ugh, I'm going to sleep like the dead tonight!"

Veresch bites her bottom lip. "There's a guard," she finally says. "His name is Terrian. He's almost as snide as that rider was just now, but he was funny too, right? I think you'd like him, and he's just a couple of turns older than you." Oh look! She's trying to set the nanny up with someone, and someone she's only seen once! Still, the thought counts, right? "Not frustrating-frustrating, but at least he's better than some of the other guards I've seen so far." Her brows furl into a frown, and light hazel eyes flicks Muirnin-wards. "Someone kissed me." Momentous Sharing Moment! "I mean, it was to shut me up, but it was …ok… for about a second. Nice. And then really not, because he's really rude."

Muirnin arches a brow and feels her lips curl into a little grin, though she doesn't look directly at Resch, someone knowing that eye contact would drive her off topic. "Terrian, huh? Not a bad name. Should I hunt him down and tell him you sent me?" she teases a little, but whatever giggle she might have given dies on her lips as you give your confession. "At least he cared enough to hush you that way and not just give you a smack," she reasons with a lightness to her tone. "Who is this rude little man kissing my friend?" she asks, only then turning her head every so slightly so she can see you in her peripheral.

The teenager gives a sneaky, sly grin. "Just go and knock his feet out from underneath him. I don't think mentioning that you know me is going to count in your favor." From the tone of it, they didn't get off on the best foot. "It was Thierry. I felt so horrified afterwards - we really don't get along - but for a second it was so nice that I feel sorry I bit his lip afterwards." She stares thoughtfully up at the stars. "Actually… no. No, I don't feel sorry I did it, given that only thinking of him makes me want to punch him, but." She cants her head sideways. "Thierry wouldn't have slapped me." Absolute certainty there. "He's not the kind; he's like that guy earlier. Remarks that feel as if they tear your skin off, but not really physical stuff."

Muirnin aaah's softly an finally lands on her back with a less than graceful flop. "All bark and no bite, huh? Hmm.. seems to be a lot of that going around." With her cloak and shawl, she can barely feel the cold sands under her, the stars twinkling away helping her tired mind drift. "I'm glad he's not that kind, but.. be careful, ok? Take your time. If he breaks your heart I'd hate to have to hunt him down and hurt him," she smiles, broad enough even that you can see it without her having to fully turn her head toward you. "You bit him?" she snickers. "Smooth, Resch, really smooth."

Now the girl looks shocked. "He doesn't like me!" she insists as she sits up. "Besides, he's definitely got some bite as well, and I think he likes his friend, but…" Yeah, tangled nest of feelings there, from the scowl on her face. Instead of carrying on further, she slips to her feet and turns to hold both hands out to Muirnin. "C'mon, let's get to our beds before our mothers think up something else for us to do."

Muirnin just chuckles, her whole form bouncing softly with the low rumbling mirth coming out of her. "I'm old enough my mother doesn't have any say, hence her taking extra delight in O'ell sending me to he for punishment. You go .. get to bed, pretty. I need a hot bath to get the smell of toddler food out of my hair and then I'll head off too," she promises as she sits up, back arching in a bow as she raises her hands high over head, stretching and twisting a bit with a squeaked out yawn that ends in her collapsing in a boneless lump. "Yes.. bath, then bed," she groans.

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