====January 3rd, 2014
====Jedi, Renalde, Yules
==== Renalde and Yules come across a drunk Jedi. Flirting and rejection abound.

Who Jedi, Renalde, Yules
What Renalde and Yules come across a drunk Jedi. Flirting and rejection abound.
When There are 0 turns, 3 months and 21 days until the 12th pass.
Where Stables, Southern Weyr

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Stables
The stone stables of Southern sweep breezily in arches and vaulted ceilings, done in the same architecture that figures so prominently within the inner caverns. A half-loft in the back shows neatly stacked hay bales, the sweet scents from the fodder drifting down to commingle with the aroma of runner and leather and sweat. There, broad box stalls house inhabitants safely away from the fancies of dragons: nickers and restless stompings fill the air, nirvana to those so inclined.


Evening brings the slow turning down of activities, and introduces a particular lull to the air. Even the runners in the stable seem to feel it, as their normal noises have calmed to the occasional nicker and stomp. Renalde, clipboard in hand, walks between the stalls, reaching out once in a while to run a finger down a long nose before continuing on. Once in a while a mark is made on the board but for the most part, Renalde seems perfectly happy with the condition of the stables.

That it is evening but also spring means that those so inclined also have a tendency to wear less layers. Perhaps unfortunately for Renalde (it's almost like she PLANS this sort of thing, but even Jedi wouldn't do that, would she!?) today Jedi is one of those so inclined; at least, she has been since drills ended. Dressed in a scanty bikini top, and a sarong that really doesn't look like it's going to stay in place, one might wonder just why Jedi is HERE, in the stables of all places. With the RUNNERS and their STENCH. Sensible people would reason it has to do with what's probably the (extra) hard liquor that would seem to have accompanied her here, in the shelter of a glass bottle. The Wingsecond sits upon a random crate, leaning back against the nearest object that is leanable; and showing off her thighs. Jedi hums something off-key, and glances around in a particularly idle fashion…and then she spots Renalde. "Reeeeenaaaaaaaaldeeeeee."

Renalde comes to a slow stop as the inebriated wingsecond calls out his name. His eyes take a second to trace the woman from head to toe, taking in the bikini and wrap before shaking his head slowly. "Would you like me to send someone to help you get back to your weyr… when you are done?" Renalde eyes that bottle of hard liquor beside her. "How much have you had?" Crisp efficiency in his voice; oh riders and their vices…

The short woman sighs slowly, and crosses her legs, effectively both hiding and revealing more skin at the same time. "Not s'much that I can't d'm'duty t'morrow." The woman sounds sure of that, despite her drunken slurring, and a slow grin crosses her face. "'D accept help from you." There's a slightly teasing note attached to the redhead's voice, even as she takes another long draught from the bottle. "D'you want any, cutie?" She dangles the bottle at him teasingly, surely knowing what his answer will be by now. How many times does this make Jedi hitting on Renalde? She always seems to resume doing it, like a canine with an old bone. Jedi doesn't move from the crate she's currently perched upon, not yet.

It's after hours, and one guilty pleasure Yules has is to wander the stables. Usually the buzz is of runners and apprentices finishing up their days, but today, Yules is attracted by another noise. She pokes her head into the long hallway between stalls and follows her ears to espy an old friend and an old boss, freezing as she comes into view. "Oh. Hello there." There's a salute there for Jedi, "Wingsecond," and a respectful nod to Renalde, "Headman." Yules knows who you are. "Am I interrupting something?" Nope, not a hint of suspicion in her tone. Who needs a hint when you have the whole tone?

"I am sure you are not," Renalde intones, his voice as dry as salt. He examines the rider before reaching out to take the bottle from her hands. Turning it upside down he pours what is left of it into a corner of dirt, the liquid seeping into the ground. "I would be more than happy to help you up to your room." Yules, at her sudden appearance, gets a nod. "Yules. Do something with this," and he shoves the empty bottle at the young rider.

There's a whole slew of indignant noises when Renalde dumps the contents of her bottle on the floor, and glassy eyes watch the liquid for a few moments before both Yules's hello and Renalde's words fully penetrate her mind. Yules gets a teasing wave and a blown kiss, and then Jedi turns her drunken charm on Renalde. "Rena, I knew y'had feelings in there somewhere." Her voice's tone has turned sultry and flirty, and then Jedi quirks a finger at her fellow brownrider. "Yules, darling, he dumped m'scotch." No answer on the interrupting business, but hey, what can you expect? Jedi's drunk. "I've half a mind to make him jealous." Nevermind that drunk Jedi is probably taking his agreement to accompany her in the wrong way. As per usual.

Yules is recipient of a bottle and some vague instruction. She stares at it blankly; what can she do with this? A hat? A broach? A ptero… wait, Pern doesn't have those. HEEEEY wait, Renalde isn't her boss anymore. "Sir, I can't use this. Maybe a Vintner can, but this is useless." Yules believes in the three Rs. Jedi's blown kiss gets an almost involuntary wink back after which Yules looks plain startled, but she's getting pulled into this whether she likes it or not. Still, she can still see the hole in Jedi's game-plan, "Shouldn't you not tell him, for maximum jealousy?" Yules looks hopefully over at Renalde: quick, look jealous. Still, it's apparent that Yules hasn't thought Jedi's statement through critically until she asks, "How are you planning to do that?" Since she doesn't want this conversation to get too far, Yules has moved in to create a triangle between her, Jedi, and Renalde.

Renalde does not at all move to take the bottle from Yules. Yes, she may not be his particular sla… um, worker, any more, but she is someone who is not offering her arm to an inebriated dragonrider with all of the severity which could be called for in a gentleman. "I am sure you will find a place for it." He says calmly to Yules, a particular quirked up eyebrow showing how little he cares that she does not at all feel obligated to do something with the bottle. As he speaks he offers the arm to the rider, hand down for her to grasp and stand from where she is upon the straw. "Take my arm rider, I will walk you to your weyr." The discussion of making someone jealous is blown off, Jedi would need to have something Renalde wanted for that to work.

"'Twas some'f m'good shit, too." Jedi's tone is very convincingly mournful as she talks to Yules, and all but ignores Renalde's arm for a few long moments. And then she takes it and forms some semblance of standing up. For a moment. Then with perhaps surprising speed for a drunk person, she attaches herself to Yules as well. "You can both staaaaaaay." The sultry voice has returned, and Jedi throws in a few eyebrow-waggles for good measure. Or what she thinks is good measure; it really more or less looks like she's lifting her eyebrows repeatedly. "You're both adorable." Aw, drunk seduction is cute seduction. Maybe. "'Specially you." Though who 'you' is, Jedi doesn't explain. "I'm glad I have friends like you." Although from the glances she casts at the both of them, this time it's pretty clear she - right now, at least - considers them both friends, if not friends with benefits. Then, just to add to Jedi's seeming complete randomness of her drunkenness, she resumes the off-key whistling.

See, that's what getting in the middle of things gets ya: Yules looks at the bottle for any dregs, but Renalde was obstinately thorough - hardly a drop remains. "Huh. Maybe Bren could use it or something." Cooks love bottles, after all. And at least Renalde is being a gentleman to SOMEONE. And then ACK OH FARANTH there's person-touchage happening… It takes Yules a moment to un-stiffen, but Jedi is a somewhat known quantity, and apparently, Yules is unexpectedly adorable. That does get a somewhat alarmed look cast at Renalde, but Yules is aware enough to offer, "We could go back to my weyr, I have a bottle of wine there…" Nope, that voice is earnest, she doesn't know what she's offering. Cuz friends don't let friends fly drunk, right?

Weight, suddenly on Renalde's arm and he sags just a moment to catch the languid rider and help keep her upright. "Yes, friends are quite good. Yules, she does not need any more to drink tonight. As she has decided you are her friend however, you may help us up to her weyr. It would be no good to have her breaking her neck as she attempts to stumble her way there." Renalde's grip on the rider's arm is surprisingly gentle, and he deftly changes her grip to his other hand so he can slide an arm around the small rider.

"Yules already knew she's m'friend, Rena, but y'seem t'be obstinate 'bout pickin' up that I don't jus'tease y'cos I want t'sleep with you." It's mostly slurry, but perhaps partially understandable. If one happens to be deft at interpreting drunk-speak. "Sex's jus'a plus. 'M friends with m'babies daddy but we don't always sleep t'gether." An Istan accent adopted from a lifelong friend is creeping its way into her voice, clinging to her vowels like suckerfish. "Though I'd fuck y'both in a heartbeat, don't get m'wrong. Y'both're just so…" Drunk Jedi is not only flirtatious, but also frank. Whether this is a good thing or not; although Jedi does falter a moment when Renalde changes hands on her and slides the arm around her. Jedi doesn't seem to mind, if her lack of letting go of either of them is any indication. "'D take more'n this for me t'break m'neck. Ma'd kill me worse than.." She doesn't finish that comment; or if she does, it's too slurry to interpret.

Minus points to Renalde for not catching Yules' drift - she does point a look in his direction, but she doesn't roll her eyes. At least not while Renalde is looking. In the meantime, she's nodding agreeably with Jedi, though she does lose a step as Jedi talks sleeping arrangements. Well then! Fortunately, Yules is adept at drunk-speak, having plenty of practice in recent years, though it sometimes backfires: "Well, uh…" Sure, Yules has been a rider for a Turn and change, but she's just flabberghasted right now, "I… I'm flattered." By that blush, she really is.

Renalde simply tightens his grip on the rider. If she doesn't start stepping forward, Renalde will simply have to drag her along- though she might enjoy the sensation of being swept off her feet at that. "Yes, I am sure my dear. But it is better to be safe then sorry. Come along, it is more than time for you to be finding your own weyr. The evening grows late and I am sure your friend Yules has other things to occupy her time also. And you are beginning to scare the runners with such talk, really, that sort of thing is best kept for when one is in private." The headman replies, his tone the same one he uses when a child has escaped from their keepers and he must return them to their place. There is no ire in his voice, just quiet patience.

It's only with reluctance that Jedi resumes walking, perhaps because she wants to, and perhaps in part because Jedis do, by nature, wander. Or they would if there were multiple women named Jedi, surely. Or men AND women named Jedi. Were Renalde to drag her along, however, he'd likely be met with insane giggling not unlike Nika's when the bluerider is around as well. "Runners sleep with each other too, I'm sure they don't really care." A hand is flapped briefly before reattaching to Yules, although Jedi does fall silent - perhaps blissfully so for Renalde, since all the woman ever seems to do is talk about how sexable he is. The silence only lasts for so long, however, before she adds, "only a crazy person wouldn't be keen'n you, Yules."

Yules passes on her bemused look at Renalde; since when do runners understand more than basic Pernese? Still, maybe Renalde knows something Yules doesn't, but what she does know is how to deal with drunk people, "C'mon, Jedi," since 'wingsecond' takes too many syllables, "Would Llioramasith meet us, or would he mind if Desmeth flew us up?" Rule one of going to someone else's party: bring your own ride. She does eye Renalde briefly and utter a very serious, "Would you prefer a lift as well?" Cuz c'mon. Jedi's cute. Beyond cute. Why would Renalde turn that down? "And likewise, Jedi," Yules replies after a thought. SEE RENALDE? WHY?

Runners poke their heads out of individual stalls, as if they are quite aware of the conversation at hand. Renalde's hands continue around the woman's back. "Yes, yes. I am sure you are both very interested in one another. But this simply isn't the place for such talk. If you will just, there we go." Renalde and Yules manhandle the woman out of the stables area. "Wingsecond, would you please call your lifemate down so that we can get you into bed? I am sure Desmeth does not need to be bothered with this."

"Y'don't need t'be s'rough, Renaaaa." Jedi complains, complete with a pout. She had been walking, after all! But it fades away soon enough into the look of a rider talking to her dragon, and a shadow even in the night falls over them, before banking sharply for a landing. "Just 'cos you're old doesn't mean y'shouldn't have fun too." Because clearly that's why the Headman is uninterested. It has nothing to do with Jedi's own personal age, nope. Once her lifemate is settled on the ground in front of them, Jedi squirms her way free of Renalde and Yules both, to jauntily climb her brown lifemate's straps. "Lli, hold still y'big lump." The brown exhales noisily in response as the brownrider tends to getting strapped in, although once she is (however drunkenly done so, she's been a rider long enough now that even drunk it's pure rote habit) she points a finger at them. "Meant what I said, 'specially t'you, Rena. Don't jus'dismiss't's drunk talk." There's a slight pleading note in her voice at those last words.

Renalde relinquishes his grip upon the rider as her lifemate appears to take control. He steps backwards from the large brown and stands with his arms folded behind his back. "I make it a point to not take what is spoken with the help of drink with any measure of salt. It would be the height of foolishness to act when individuals involved are not both completely aware of what is going on." Renalde's tone is almost gentle as he lays this down, perhaps in response to the pleading in her voice. "Will your lifemate be able to deliver you safely onto your ledge or do you require additional assistance?"

"Shame I always seem t'run into y'with drink in me, then, Rena." Jedi's voice turns strange, and an even stranger look crosses her face as well. For a moment it might seem as if she'd request the extra assistance just to be obstinate, but no words pass her lips for a long period of time. Until suddenly, "g'bye, Yules, Headman." Her lifemate shuffles away from the humans, and then takes wing, flying up higher and higher until they've reached the proper height to head home. The brown and his rider fade out of sight as they wing toward their weyr, with nary another word or even a thought. Though perhaps a steady pfffffffff…..khhhhhhhh…. lingers a few moments too long after the pair have taken wing.

Renalde watches the pair silently for a long moment after they have lifted off into the air. Perhaps just to watch if Jedi is about to come falling back to the ground again and must be picked up and taken off. "Yules." Renalde nods to the rider and then turns to disappear back into stables to return to his late night duties.

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