Who

Mayte, G'tan

What

Encountering each other in the Inner Caverns, Mayte sets a challenge to G'tan.

When

Thirteenth day of the seventh month of the second turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Inner Caverns, Igen Weyr

OOC Date

 

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Inner Caverns

Faded elegance attests to former glory, the soot-covered ceiling sparkling with faint traceries of golden glitter. High, vaulted curves of the smooth limestone wavering whose variant hues of sandy gold and wheaten brown form rising, wave-like patterns that hold the sparkle of silver here and there. A long, wide cavern, this: various arches lend access to other caverns, while the noise of daily activity is often amplified by the natural acoustics of this open space.


Sunset falls upon Igen Weyr once more, a blessed relief from the blazingly direct light of day and marking the end of work for many. One of those would be G'tan, who saunters back along the Administrative Corridor from the Council Chambers and into the Inner Caverns at an easy pace. A report filed and a report read, he seems rather pleased with the state of things at the moment. A fitted white shirt and long blue shorts along with sandals make up his rather non-chalant garb right now, making his knot look a bit incongruous. But it's hot, and that's the excuse he's sticking to. He may even be on his way to a swim.

Almost from the same direction, Mayte actually emerges from the stores, looking a bit dustier than normal. There's something akin to a vengeful look on her face, a gleeful grin of evil cleanliness that has been inflicted onto a dirtier place. She's got reports of her own in hand, one page flipped for her to peruse the second page. She's wandering, wandering… wandering into a column: "Ow!" That has the junior looking up and noticing: "Oh hey, G'tan." He gets the eyeball.

G'tan spots movement from his extreme periphery and turns to spy Mayte, smirking as he shifts into a bit of a backwards gait to greet her. Except she walks…into a column. Dark blonde eyebrows skyrocket, and his steps shift forward again. "Shit! You okay?" Hands are held out as if to steady her if she needs it, but they don't move out to grab her, since she doesn't look about to tumble. "Hey…" Brows fall again, almost knitting at the sight of that eyeball he's being given. "What?"

Rubbing at her nose, Mayte scowls briefly at the offending column: "I'm fine. Thanks." That scowl turns into a big grin, "You?" She indeed does not tumble to the floor (because she's not that helpless), but her expression turns totally innocent. "What what?" The stack of hides in her hands gets tucked under one arm, "Are you okay?" She does take a step back to give G'tan the once over and wonders, "You… look like you're dressing to the weather, or… for something else?" Mayte has to crane her head to one side to look up at G'tan, dark hair falling carelessly back over her shoulder.

"Good! Good. I'm…good," G'tan counters, now trying not to snicker a little now that all seems well. It's a little hard, given the circumstances. "I, ah, was just wondering what the Eye was for. Like maybe Zin forgot and left Rhiscorath some fish while I was sleeping or soemthing." Which would never happen. Zinakoth remembers that. At her comment, he looks down at himself and back up again. "Yeah, I am," he affirms. "Maybe heading out to the Crater again for a swim; dunno yet. Backing up a fraction so that Mayte doesn't have to crane her neck quite so much, the bronzerider gestures to the hides under her arm. "You want some help with those?"

The repetition IS suspicious: Mayte gives poor G'tan another look-over, in case he's concealing something. Ahem. She's not blushing. "What eye? I had no Eye." If Pern had gas, she'd be gas-lighting you, G'tan. A little shift in her arms to bring the hides a bit more firmly under her arm, "These? Oh, no, thanks. They're just going to Prineline for a once-over." The pass-over: from my desk to yours. Mayte's dark eyes follow G'tan as he moves, grinning slightly. It takes her a full ten seconds to say, "And no, we haven't had fish since Rhis scared Novath nearly out of his hide, out in the North Bowl. So, swimming, huh?" Mayte's terrible at this 'coquettish' thing.

"Yes you did," G'tan counters, smirking and bringing up a finger to switch back and forth before Mayte's face. "Two of them, even." And she totally is blushing, but G'tan decides he's teasing her enough. That ten-second pause has him tilting his head slightly, and eyebrow arching with something that could be either concern or amusement, but his grin mirrors hers, if a bit crookedly. He chuckles; he'd heard about that whole North Bowl incident. "Yeah…" he drawls in reply, most definitely falling into the realm of amused for her attempted coquettishness. "Are you sure you're alright, Mayte?" he asks, a hint of a chuckle underlying his words.

Mayte wrinkles her nose at that finger and makes a half-hearted attempt to swat at it, "Yeah, that, but I wasn't doing anything with them!" It's her story and she's sticking to it, evidently. Mayte's eyes widen for effect, "You're laughing at me!" She doesn't seem too put out by it, though, shaking her head, "I'm just fine! So, Crater Lake, huh?" Desperate for a change of subject, Mayte looks down at herself and huffs, "Oh shards. I look awful." One dark, skeptical eye pins G'tan, "Are you laughing at me because I'm dirty?"

Eyebrows hike again when Mayte insists on the non-activity of her eyes, and G'tan's grin widens impishly. "Nope!" he returns, holding up his hands. "I am not laughing at you. At all." Even if his eyes are. He nods at her mention of the Crater Lake, then blinks as she suddenly swings into the matter of her appearance and another accusation that he's laughing at her. In G'tan's mind there is one of two things going on here - the young goldrider either has a crush on him and is flustered at being caught off guard (or teased), or…there's a subject imminent that they've discussed a time or two. "No!" he fires back insistently, mentally checking with Zinakoth. It would certainly explain his bronze's increase in curiosity about Rhiscorath lately. "You look fine, Mayte. But if you think otherwise, you're welcome to head out to the Crater with me and remedy that!" He folds his arms, leaning on the column. "Maybe see if you can actually beat me around the island this time," he tacks on, unable to repress a wink. But if his suspicions are right, it might be a good diversion for her!

Mayte's suspicious eyes are watching you, G'tan. "I don't see why not," she starts off evenly, "I'm filthy. I must look like I need a hundred baths to get clean." Eyes brighten when G'tan mentions the Lake, but widen with shock: "No. You did not just. You did." The junior seems to be warring with herself: "I can't believe… You just totally." Oh no he diiinnn't! Except that G'tan did: "I will kick your ass," Mayte's eyes arrow but she's grinning as she steps in to close that gap daringly, "around that island. I'm smaller, and have to displace less water." The gauntlet has been tossed.

Now G'tan laughs, bending a bit at the waist for a moment in his mirth as Mayte goes back and forth with herself. Eyebrows climb again as the goldrider gets right up inside his bubble; he doesn't have a very big bubble, so that' saying something. He leans back a little, looking down at her and keeping his arms folded, still grinning. Yeah. He definitely thinks he knows what's going on here. "I'm sure you will," he returns. "This time. But I'm stronger, taller, and I can go for longer." Gauntlet: accepted!

Still in that bubble of me-space, Mayte smiles narrowly up at G'tan, the hand not trying to hold onto hides planted firmly on her hip: "Are you saying," even the junior sounds a bit shocked, "That you'd let me win?" One eyebrow is raised, "I doubt you'd be longer," and for once there's a that's what she said that doesn't make Mayte blush. A moment while she considers how much work can wait until tomorrow, and then, "You, me, the Lake. Tonight?" In fact, Mayte's already turning and moving to be abreast of the taller wingrider, "I can go all night." Pause. "Swimming."

"Not at all," G'tan replies with a sly grin. "Though you could order me to, I suppose. I expect you to do it all on your own." Her next has his laugh ringing in the corridors, but his words are much more quiet, pitched just below his normal speaking voice. "I'm not gonna offer up that comparison. Use your imagination!" As Mayte moves, G'tan shifts out of his lean on the column, glancing over at her with another raised eyebrow. "I'm…sure you can," he affirms with a nod, deciding not to take advantage of that one. "But if you want to go, I'll meet you out there, I'm heading that way now. You drop your hides off and I'll see you sometime after." He wants to be out there while there's still a little daylight left.

"Like I would ever," Mayte declares hotly, "Put you at su.. so much more of a disadvantage!" Ha ha, who's laughing now? Sloe-eyes still catch the glow-light as she nods, "I'll see you there, maybe fifteen minutes after?" The hides get shifted so Mayte can cross her arms over her chest and grin. And why not raise the stakes? "If you win? A bottle of my finest rum," Mayte declares boldly. From the way her nose wrinkles, she thinks it highly unlikely, and mourns the trading of a bottle, "And if you win, a bottle of your finest." That seems equitable. A cheeky comment as Mayte starts to move towards Prineline's office, "I look forward to deadening my taste-buds…"

Well. If she's going to bring rum into it… "You," G'tan says with a pointed finger, "have a deal." He moves ahead of her, grinning. "Guess it'll happen either way, aye? See you in a little while, Mayte." And the bronzerider starts an easy saunter off ahead, moving toward the Living Cavern.

Just as G'tan starts to move away, right before his right leg is into the swing of a good sauntering stride, and just as Mayte is passing him on that right side, he might feel a slight pinch, a little nip, in his well-sculpted gluteus maximus region. It lasts no more than a second but should he turn around, the junior weyrwoman is walking away on her intended path, one hand reaching up to brush some hair over her shoulder without any indication that she could be the culprit. Perhaps a mischievous firelizard?

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