Who

D'ex, A'ndi, Zynth, Taliveth

What

D'ex and Zynth's progress with the mindhealer is discussed over dinner. Though things start a bit heavy and awkward, it ends with silliness and crepes.

cursing, suggestiveness

When

It is evening of the fourth day of the third month of the fourteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Zynth's Weyr

OOC Date 10 Jun 2018 07:00

 

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« Your Personal Space seems rather cluttered, brother. Have you ever considered a little more space in your Space? » It’s a joke, Zynth can totally do jokes.



Zynth's Weyr

The weyr is large and spacious, smooth walls high and curve around in a great oval, much like being on the inside of some huge egg. The a hollowed dip of a bowl sits in almost the exact center of the weyr, the sand at the bottom is racked smooth and evenly across the expanse that is more than enough space for a little Blue. Above this dip is flat floor that runs to the walls in all directions, a single stone staircase is cut up the curved stone walls to a ledge above that holds a table and set of chairs. In the ovular circle around the bowl, the floor is sectioned off and segregated to purpose, though there are no visible barriers to be seen. One section has a bed pushed up against the wall, the next has a small alcove that homes a little kitchen, and the next a round skybroom tree table and chairs. Trunks are stacked in one sections, and one section is left open and empty apart from the shelves of supplies. A rack of riding leathers hang next to the door, oiling supplies on the self above them. The whole place gives a sense of purpose, order, and cleanliness. The big weyr is not cluttered, but every item clearly has a place, every section of living thought out and arranged almost as if the egg-shape acts as a clock through daily tasks and places, all orbiting around the dragon's sandy bowl of a bed.


The weyr is quiet, the quick flit of young firelizards and the soft chittering of older ones. A thin, angular form is curled up in the bowl that fills the center of the weyr, his near-opaque wings are open and the long tail curves up and out of the bowl flicking into the living quarters that ring the weyr. The tail twitches and swishes back into the kitchen-area where the blue’s rider stands at the fire. A large cauldron of soup is getting strips of meat slowly, D’ex feeds it as he might feed a firelizard, slow and steady, makeing sure the strips actually are taken by the bubbling broth before adding more. « Snow tomorrow? » D’ex nods, “Sure. Evening though, sweeps in the morning.” « Of course. » And the pair again lapses back into a comfortable silence as Lord and Lady continue thier flit around the weyr.

Ah, quiet. Silence. Such beautiful things. And so easily ruined by Taliveth’s arrival. There’s a tell-tale THUMP as the brown lands on the ledge, and then that galactic voice, « HeeeeEEEEeeeEeeEeeeey we’re here! With bread! It’s so soft and warm and fluffy just like a kitty except you can eat this! I MEAN I guess you could eat a kitty? But A’ndi says that’s not generally socially acceptable! » Said rider enters first, carrying the promised loaf in the crook of an arm, wrapped in a simple kitchen towel. After setting it upon the skybroom table and freeing the bread and its magical bread-y smell from the confines of the towel, A’ndi casually meanders to the kitchen area. A hand is rest against D’ex’s back, and a brief kiss pressed to a freckled cheek. “Hey.” Taliveth settles himself in the entryway, front half in and back half out. Because all the neighbors want to look at a Tali-butt. « … Hiiiii Zyyyyyynth <3 <3 <3 <3 »

Lord and Lady descend on A’ndi with twittering, but it is breif before they both turn to the big brown, flitting around him brightly, Hello Taliveth! « Greetings. » The word is cool, but relaxed, he pulls himself up and shifts in the bowl to make room for the larger dragon. D’ex himself raisess a hand in greeting as well before turning back to his adding of meat to the soup, “Hey.” The kiss is not returned, but D’ex does flash A’ndi a smile, “Bread huh? I’ll have to steal leftovers to bring to that mind-healer of mine, guy needs to loosen up and could use some fluff in his life.” It’s a mild comment, passing as D’ex turns back to his stew, “Almost done here. You know where the bowls are.”

Taliveth honks in joyful greeting to the little lizards, snuffling and whuffling at them as they dance about in the air. But he’s certainly not going to turn down the silent invitation extended when Zynth makes space, and so he scoots along the floor on his round belly until his rusty brown body is snuggled into the sand with his brother. A darkened wing is lowered over the smaller dragon and Taliveth is quite insistent on nuzzling. “Tch, he can bake his own fluff,” A’ndi grumps. He’s not good at sharing, at least when it comes to food. A FAMINE COULD HAPPEN ANY SECOND- “So.” He’ll let that hang awkwardly in the air a bit as he moves away to collect those bowls. “How is it? The mind-healing. And stuff.”

“I’m not totally sure he can. He’s not that sort of person that gives the impression that he knows how to make his own bread.” D’ex smirks and nods slightly, He glances back at the dragons settling down and shrugs, “I think the guy is out to lunch. I’m going to request a hold-bred mind-healer rather than a weyr-bred one. I’m not sure the guy gets it.” Another shurg and the rest of the meat makes it into the stew. D’ex steps away to clean his hands, then dries them and folds the towel before turning back to A’ndi. “Not sure that ‘results’ are happening as quickly as I’d like to see them, not sure about that, but I have been given required times to go spend with Zynth and that is nice.” He jerks a thumb back toward the dragons, “Snow-date tomorrow. And if I can get a mind-healer who at least can relate to the whole anit-dragon thing, then sure, maybe this will show for something? Not sure that it is yet. M’noq is being mercifully patience.”

A’ndi already looks annoyed. Not with D’ex, but with this particular mind-healer’s apparent failings. “It’s his job to get it no matter where he’s from. I mean, what are they paying him for?” Sorry Mr. Mind-healer, but you have been Disapproved Of. While listening, the brownrider occupies himself and his annoyance with getting the table all set and ready. A proper knife is retrieved for bread slicing; if it was just A’ndi he’d rip it up with his hands, but D’ex has shown himself to be a slightly more civilized individual. “But. Whatever. Did he give you any, I don’t know, exercises or something? To do with Zynth? Like when we were weyrlings, I guess.” Taliveth whines softly under the chatter, sneaking in little aurora wisps, « … I wanna go to the snow toooooo…. »

D’ex chuckles, shaking his head and waving a hand, “I’m sure he’s good at his job. I mean, my Harper was great at his job, but I can honestly say I’m happy to never have to see the man again.” One can be good at one’s job and not mesh personalities with D’ex, sure, though Mind-Healing might help is personalities did mesh. A little bowl of churned butter is set out of the water that was keeping it soft and D’ex stirs the stew one last time before tasting it. He hums, frowns, and adds more salt. Awe, that’s better. “Sorta exactly like stuff in Weyrlinghood, just we are allowed to fly and have been doing far more sweeps than I ever considered doing before in my life.” « We should have requested being Watch-Dragons an- » That thought is cut off with a finger, D’ex frowns at the blue, “No.” The finger turns to Taliveth, “You can do snow without us. It’s not required.”

“Harpers…” A’ndi grumbles with an eyeroll. His distaste for most of the profession has never been kept secret. “Great at their jobs of being pretentious dicks-“ He interrupts himself in order to dip a finger in the butter. And then lick that finger. It tastes like butter! Wow! “I remember you two had trouble with that bonding stuff in weyrlinghood. What shit is he having you do? Does he know why there’s a problem?” A’ndi doesn’t sound hopeful, having already deemed this mind-healer incompetent. Meanwhile, Taliveth lets out a croaky squawk at that pointing finger. « But it’s more fun with you two! A’ndi is SO BORINNNNNNGGGGGG. » Rider and dragon share a look, and there’s clearly some sort of silent mutual amusement passing between them. Just casually rubbin’ in that bond like a couple of jerks.

“He says I have a problem with authority, and if I got over that, then I’d be more likeable.” D’ex frowns, “Okay, he didn’t say it in those words, but what was I supposed to do? The guy says I have a problem with Authority and I’m just supposed to smile and nod?” He waves a hand at A’ndi’s violation of the butter, that finger better have been clean pre-sticking it into that butter. “He said we should go back to talking just mentally instead of me talking to Zynth out loud, and he wants us to explore minds together. Which sounds mostly like exploring Zynth’s mind, since I don’t think there is much in mine that he doesn’t know about.” Stew is finally served and set at the table, D’ex pointedly annoying that little moment between A’ndi and Taliveth. Zynth too, just flicks a tail, « You and A’ndi can do Weyrling-Things too if you want to. No one is going to stop you. »

“I-“ There is a lot of skeptical squinting. “I’m pretty sure getting over that problem won’t make you more likable. You’re just naturally an obnoxious shit.” Said from one obnoxious shit to another. Another finger is dipped into the butter despite D’ex’s hand-waving protest, but this time that fingertip of butter is being brought dangerously close to the bluerider’s nose. However, A’ndi continues talking like he’s totally not trying to smear dairy product on D’ex’s face, “So… you haven’t explored Zynth’s mind before?” That is slightly troubling news, judging by the furrowing of brows. Taliveth starts making kitty-biscuits in the sand with his big front feet, letting a rain of falling stars arch across Zynth’s cold skies. « Sometimes I remember being a little weyrling! We used to sleep in my couch with Caelisth! Do you remember, too?! » A little off topic, but.

D’ex is surprised, both by the words and the threat of butter, he leans back, but with a kitchen counter in the way, not too far back to go. D’ex frowns at the finger, “Of course I’ve explored his mind, just not much. It’s a mildly hostile place.” The blue’s wings russle and though he is watching the riders, he will reply to the off-topic-ness, « I do remember. We where much smaller then. » This is a lie. Zynth does not remember, but he is clever enough to infer it. Blue-memory is really not the best, but infering from context is something that this blue is very good at. « New Weyrlings now. And more to come soon. »

BUTTER-BOOP. The butter is deposited upon the tip of D’ex’s nose, and A’ndi smirks in satisfaction. “Obnoxious, but real fuckin’ cute,” he murmurs. Then, with his mission accomplished, he’s turning away and pulling out a chair from the table. Flopping himself into the seat with a sigh, he says, “It’s not going to be really hostile, though. Not in any way you can’t handle. I mean, his mind is…” The brownrider frowns thoughtfully, not exactly being great at putting these sorts of things into words. “Well. His mind is your mind. And yours is his. Isn’t it?” At the mention of new weyrlings, Taliveth squeeeeezes his feets, oozing sand between his toes. « I’m SO excited for all the babies! I’m SO PROUD of them already~! »

D’ex is frozen for a moment. There is butter on his nose. Damn it. There was a finger in his butter. Twice. Damn it. “Huh? Yeah, I mean. Sorta.” The brain can’t handle butter and conversation at the moment. D’ex turns to the trusty folded towel and very carefully wipes the butter off of his nose. The towel needs to be washed now. Damn it. Okay. Later. Food now. The towel will be refolded and D’ex too will sit, the terrible feeling that there still might be some oily butter-residue on his nose. “Sure, um, yeah. Anyway, we are starting small and working our way up.” Zynth will turn to look at the sands, one pointy paw reaching out to scoop some sand toward himself, « Two sets so close to eachother, Southern is very lucky. Many littles will be about the weyr. »

A’ndi takes a certain quiet, amused pleasure in watching D’ex malfunction. He’s been mostly good at trying to accommodate D’ex’s peculiarities, but he does at times suffer a moment of weakness. But now A’ndi busies himself with the true purpose of the butter; slicing bread and spreading it over top. A piece is held out to the bluerider. Peace offering. “Do you and Zynth have a, uh… like a center point? A mental center.” Shoulders shrug a bit helplessly. He knows this sounds weird. “Tali and I, we have a sort of spot like that. Where the connection starts, and everything spreads out from there. If that… makes any sense.” Taliveth will push another pile of sand towards his brightly blue brother, because sharing is caring! « It’s ‘cuz our golds are the best golds! »

D’ex will frown at the bread suspiciously. But finally he will take it and take a bite. He doesn’t reply right away, but will glance at Zynth. See, mental talking can be useful sometimes? “Ummmm, don’t think so? I mean, we are linked, so yes, but I don’t know much about it. Could go looking? Or make? Or? I don’t know, that does sound weird.” He passes over A’ndi’s bowl of stew and takes a bite of his own. His attention is still split, eyes half-focused. Likewise, Zynth does not react right away at the offering of sand. He pauses, blinks at it and sends Taliveth an affirmative puff of snow, « We have very good Queens. Yes. » The sand is pushed between claws, back and forth and back, not really paying attention to it.

It’s pretty decent bread! Basic baking skills, they are a thing that A’ndi has. There’s another shrug at D’ex’s response. “I guess it is. I don’t know. Maybe it’s different for everyone.” He goes quiet now. Partially because FOOD, but also because he too seems to be doing some mental communication. Though A’ndi will come out of his focus long enough to shoot the bluerider a half-smile and an actual, genuine compliment, “This came out really good.” Followed by more silence, and the awkward tapping of the spoon against the rim of the bowl. “… Uh, hey, so. Is the mind-healer just talking to you about Zynth, or are you getting into, um. Other stuff? About you?” Back in dragonspace, Taliveth’s aurora shimmers brightly, invitingly over Zynth’s frozen trees, like a celestial door. « Psssst. Hey Zynth. ZYNTH. Come in! Come visit! I wanna show you! A’ndi said I could! » What is to be shown is not specified.

D’ex will let the silence sit, it is comfortable and the food is good. Fluffy bread and Salted Stew. Good combo, and admittedly, this butter does not taste contaminated. Yes, good meal. “Yeah, it did.” He looks up at the tapping, “Mostly Zynth. But, he did ask some rather invasive things about my past and I assured him I’d supply him with my full record from the Guards, but I’m sure that he can request it himself. He is aware of some of my former profession and station in life.” IE, D’ex has lied and beaten around the bush and generally refused to talk to his mind-healer about it just yet. Zynth’s world shifts, trees reach up into mountains and a wind runs through them, up and wind and snow reach to touch the welcoming door. « Coming. What is it, brother mine? »

Having been around D’ex this long, it’s not too hard at this point to decipher this response. More silence follows with a pursing of lips and awkward glances around the room. “… Yeah, but. Aren’t mind-healers supposed to ask invasive questions? And you’re supposed to answer honestly, so they can figure your shit out?” The spoon handle is twisted between fingers. “You could maybe talk about your bad dreams. The sleep problems. Or something. I don’t know.” Eventually his eyes will slowly come to rest on the bluerider, almost cautiously. “And I’m pretty sure there’s some kind of rule about confidentiality? If you tell them about something you did that was… not… great…?” YOU KNOW, THAT ONE TIME IN THAT BOAT HOUSE- Wind and snow are allowed entrance to the space normally kept at bay, largely for D’ex’s benefit. The aurora veil falls away to reveal the vast universe of Taliveth, though his focus is on his swirling orbit of space junk. Giggles lit with twinkling, shooting stars lead Zynth along, closer and closer, apparently wanting to go inside this mass of space crap. « Watch your head! Come in REALLY close! INTO MY PERSONAL SPACE! » There’s quite a cacophony of stuff to mentally maneuver around.

D’ex just blinks, “I don’t see how nightmares and an inability to sleep has anything to do with my relationship with Zynth. He helps me with those things and we talk through things.” Somewhere someone might have not fully explained to D’ex the goals here, or whatever results where require to be allowed back into formation against Thread. “I promised the guy I’d get him my file and that’s all he really needs to know about me, but he hasn’t done much in the way of working magic, and he’s a bit of a prick, so I’m still going to request another mindhealer. Hold-bred. Maybe someone pretty. I suppose that there is a level of confidentiality, but I’m relatively sure that the majority of the older population of this weyr is aware of some of my sins.” Or maybe not, perhaps that is just paranoia? It is a good thing that Zynth is good at mental maneuvers. The wind and snow float through space without dissipating. He is agile and quick, following the stars at a respectful distance, but taking in much of what is around him. « Your Personal Space seems rather cluttered, brother. Have you ever considered a little more space in your Space? » It’s a joke, Zynth can totally do jokes.

“Yeah, but-“ The spoon is set down and A’ndi leans back against the chair, glancing upwards to the rounded ceiling. “I think everything has to do with your relationship with your dragon.” A slight frown sets in as the brownrider tries to put this together in a way that makes sense. How do you put into words something as strange and magical and personal as the rider/dragon bond? “Your whole life. Everything you think and feel. Everything you’ve ever done or will do. It all became part of him when he became part of you. If there’s a problem with your bond that’s been going on this long, then I figure you have to dig through all the crap, all the real messy shit, to find out what it is.” Another shrug and sitting silently for a few moments before pushing himself into motion, reaching for more bread. “Is that something you have the balls to do?” Gonna shoot some side-eye here. Taliveth’s whirling orbit STOPS, hanging in sudden eerie stillness as what Zynth just said is processed. Processing. Processing. Then comes the merry laughter, the movement returning. « DID YOU JUST DO A JOKE?! That was a good one! I liked it! » And so, further they go. « This is all my byoooooooootiful stuff! Nobody else wants it so I’m gonna LOVE IT! » It’s really a vast array, everything scrapped and abandoned and left to moulder in the vacuum of space, now lovingly collected. As they get closer to the center, there’s a strange sense of vibration. A low humming that rests unnervingly in the base of the skull. Taliveth doesn’t seem bothered, but this is his mindspace, after all.

D’ex frowns, and this time it does not relax. He cocks an eyebrow at A’ndi, quiet a moment, then his spoon is also put down. “Tell me something. Be honest. Just how damaged do you suppose I am?” The question is simple, said easily, but D’ex’s eyes don’t leave A’ndi. “How damaged is not regretting a criminal life, but not being able to handle the short turn and a half I spent paying for that life? How damaged is fearing and hating dragons then impressing one?” He leans forward, his voice dropping in volume for the first time, “How damaged is doing something unknowingly that I’m now being told is hurting my dragon?” And with that, he jerks back and stands, abandoning bowl and walking back to the little kitchen, his tone falling into a business-like voice, “You staying the night? I haven’t had the chance to wash your spare cloths here.” There is little flick in Zynth, but his mind will continue to follow Taliveth, « Yes. Joke. Good catch. » There is little in Zynth’s mindscape that is alive apart from his rolling hills of every greens and the lone, private rose garden, forever frozen in space and time. The swish of snow and wind still carry that faint feeling of timeless, endless mountian and forest, something only accomplished because this is minds moving. But still, Zynth does not touch any of these lost treasures or trash here. The vibration will slow the progress of the flakes of snow, but he will continue to follow.

A’ndi lets D’ex ask those questions without interruption. He watches the other man’s back as he stands and moves away, picking at the bread. “It’s fine,” he replies in regards to the lack of clean clothes. “I can always go nextdoor and grab something.” So it does sound as though he plans to stay. The brownrider apparently finds himself no longer hungry, setting that piece of bread aside. Out in the open for any ‘lizards that might want it! Then A’ndi blurts out, “You’re pretty damaged. Seriously, you’re all kinds of fucked up.” Talking isn’t always his strong point, but brutal, asshole-levels of honesty? No problem. “But you’re also not special.” Blue eyes glance away now, focusing instead on the wall straight ahead. “Everyone’s damaged. They’re all a bunch of lying, cheating fuckers out for themselves. People just show it, or try to hide it, in different ways.” His arms come up to fold loosely at his chest. “At least you’re honest about it.” High praise????? As for the DRAGONS. IN. SPAAAAAAAAACE~, they at last come to a stop. Still within the mass of Taliveth’s collection, but clearly close to the center. It’s so warm here somehow, cozy even, like cuddling into a special blanket. The most beloved of treasures float here, and it all feels very old. But now glimpses can be caught of the center of this mass, the ultimate source that pulls everything into orbit around it. An empty space of darkness— but on closer inspection, the darkness wavers and shimmers, like the air on a hot day, or over a fire. The vibrations are more intense, the humming strange and alien to an outsider. Little sparks of energy crackle and leave trails of light, like sparklers. « THIS IS IT! » Taliveth announces, quite proud of himself. Perhaps he doesn’t feel the need to explain further, considering that there is likely no other place that feels more “Taliveth” and more “A’ndi” than this spot here. A mental manifestation of their connection, a place to symbolize the moment that their frequencies synced into eternal vibration together. There is a distinct feeling that going closer is not an option, at least not for Zynth. But a little peek? For Zynth, for D’ex, it’s allowed.

D’ex seems to be busying himself with something, not turning to look at A’ndi. Still, he is attentive, listening. “The world is a twisted one. Everyone is broken.” In their own ways, perhaps, but the words remain, conversational, carefully conversational even. “Gotta ask my mind-healer what his broken is and if he feels like there is anything he needs to share.” D’ex nods, more to himself than to A’ndi. “Yeah, better ask him next time I see him.” Does the mindhealer report to M’noq? D’ex didn’t know, he reported to M’noq, and tried to be honest. Generally speaking. Zynth does not even go as close as Taliveth might allow. His swirl of snow and wind will spread out, feeling and pulling back in a quiet mass of little white within the shifting mass of space-ness. He is quiet, shifting in his little bubble of him-ness within the massive-ness of Taliveth. There are no words yet. Zynth has no words for this, instead, his emotions push out to Taliveth, but even now, not many. A flicker of vulnerability, quickly covered by that cool confidence that marks much of what Zynth does. « I see. This is quite something. » There is a cool moment of silence, then « Thank you Taliveth. »

“Who the fuck cares what his problems are?” A’ndi snips. “Don’t waste your time on that.” Hands rest atop the table briefly before pushing himself up to stand. Some of the dishes are gathered, whatever he can hold, to be delivered to the little kitchen. Once set aside, a hand reaches to rest on the bluerider’s shoulder, while A’ndi peers around D’ex in an attempt to see what he’s busying himself with. “Request a new mindhealer. Hold bred, pretty, whatever. Just someone you can talk to openly. And then do that so you can get your ass back to work fighting Thread.” Despite the harshness of his words, that hand gives a reassuring squeeze. “… You’ll get it worked out. Or if you don’t, Zynth will. He’s the smart one.” The smart one who is currently adrift in the vastness of Taliveth. « Awwwwwwwww you’re welcome, Zynth! I LOVE YOU~ » Wisps of fiery light will guide the blue’s mind free of the orbiting junk, and out into Tali’s galaxy where supernova bursts of tie-dye color greet his brother with warm affection. « You should make a Special Place too! Okay?! »

“I would much rather talk about his problems than mine. It is easier.” D ex remains with his task, but peering over his shoulder, A’ndi will see a little stack of small thin crepes. D’ex has a little jar of whipped and sugared cream that he is spreading onto a crepe. He puts the knife aside and starts to roll the thing up, then places it to the side on a plate with other finished crepes. He selects another and starts to layer cream on again. The blue rider will pause at the touch, glancing toward Andi. He offers a complete crepe and frowns, “I will be putting in a request. Yes.” He smirks at the comment on Zynth, eyes shifting past Andi to the dragons, “Yeah. He is the smart one. We've got this.” Zynth himself will loosen up as they move from the center that is Taliveths core. « I have a center. I have a special place. » But the blue will not offer more information than this, his cold reaching out to touch the colors of Taliveths mind, « Yes, I am aware of your love. Thank you. But mine has a surprise for you, you might want to ask yours to share. »

“Nothing worth doing is easy. You have to just keep your head down and keep moving forward until you can’t anymore. And then keep going anyway.” Basically the entire philosophy of A’ndi’s life, and he might have expounded further but CREPES. “… You didn’t say you were making crepes!” Cue the starry eyes and one of those rare warm smiles as he eagerly reaches for that offered treat. And it’s gone in, oh, 2.5 seconds or so. Between this and Zynth’s words about a surprise, Taliveth suddenly snaps back to reality and stares at the two riders in the kitchen space. His giant rusty maw begins to drop open, and combined with his googly eyes it looks rather like an expression of surprised disbelief. « Oooooooooooh!!!!!! OOOOH IT’S CREPES! ZYNTH IT’S CREPES! » If Zynth didn’t want to be pressed about his own Special Place, this was a very good distraction. A’ndi smirks as well, glancing over his shoulder at Taliveth and the string of drool now hanging from the brown’s mouth. “I hope you’re planning on making a lot of these.” But his expression sobers a bit, turning serious again. “By the way… you know you can talk to me too, right? About stuff?”

“You don’t tell people about surprises, A’ndi. That would make them not surprises.” D’ex sniffs, but he is smiling. “Made the crepes this morning, picked up the cream from the boardwalk this evening. Thought it might be a fun thing.” He glances back at Taliveth, then at the pile of crepes, “I didn’t make that many. But I think it will be enough, too much sugar, and you will never sleep, Tali.” Granted, that might not be true for dragons, and ‘too much’ is likely very different for a dragon as well. It’s a silly thing, but perhaps it will make up for not making quite enough crepes to be able to fully satisfy a creature of Taliveth’s size. Zynth too returns to himself, blinking and sitting up. His eyes whirl slightly in amusement, tail flicking up to tap one of Taliveth’s wings, « But now you know that mine knows how to make desserts. You can always have more some other time. It is not a worry. » Neither dragon nor rider mention the center nor talking to people. No response, perhaps purposefully driving the new topic, perhaps they are things that do not require words or awnsers.

Leave it to A’ndi to be the sort of person who doesn’t quite understand how fun surprises work. But still, he seems to be enjoying it. As much as he enjoys anything in life. “Taliveth. You can have two, okay? You know too much dairy gives you the runs.” And that’s not a fun surprise for anybody! A’ndi does wait around a moment, perhaps waiting for a response, and the lack of one eventually fully dawns on him. So two crepes are carefully removed from the plate and escorted across the weyr to Taliveth’s waiting, drooly mouth. “… I mean, you don’t have to talk to me about stuff.” A’ndi explains while heading towards the dragons. “I’m not the one who can clear you with your Wingleader.” Taliveth’s tongue lolls in waiting, and soon it will accept the offering of each crepe placed delicately beside each other upon said tongue. The squishy brown face shlurps them up, rumbling happily deep in his throat, projecting a mosaic of multi-colored starry sky to express his immense pleasure. A’ndi lays a hand upon the now happily whuffling nose, petting softly. “I just. You know.” More shrugging. “I give a shit about you and your problems… and stuff… I don’t know…” He starts to mumble at the last of it. Emotional feely stuff is a difficult area of conversation.

D’ex will add a little powder sugar to the two crepes and a few sprinkles of vanilla before A’ndi delivers the plate. He continues making the last of the crepes, “Thank you. Sure. I don’t know what is wanted from me right now, but we are doing our best. Only been at it a week or so, so I think my problems and stuff will get better.” Or that was the hope. As less-dangerous as flying sweeps where, they were not the adrenaline rush of Thread. They were not the flaming and speed and tension of Thread. They were boring. Especially when Sweeps and D’ex’s usual map-work was all he was allowed to do. D’ex smirks at the mumble, glancing over at A’ndi and Taliveth, “Thanks man. So you think holding hands in public might be a thing that could happen sometime? You know, since you give a shit?” There is a teasing-tone to the words, D’ex is unwilling to talk heavy right now, so poking fun at the gay-thing of A’ndi’s problems seemed to be a good idea. Still, it is a tease, very little beyond that. D’ex was openly all over the place, but would maintain whatever A’ndi wanted of him in public for however long. It’s not like thier neighbors didn’t know though.

Their neighbors know very well. Their wings are probably somewhat aware. And really anyone in the Weyr population who pays any attention to things like who hangs out with who, and who plays footsie with who in the living caverns, and who seeks out who during a gold flight and tackles them into a storage closet to do unspeakable things— “I, uh…” The nose petting intensifies. Taliveth is perfectly happy about it, and the crepes, and life in general, and the bulky brown leans in against Zynth and croons to the vivid blue. “Well… maybe.” A faint blush colors along A’ndi’s cheeks, and he knows it and feels embarrassed which just makes it worse. “Maybe I can try. Somewhere without a lot of people. Work my way up.” A nod, mostly to himself. “And if anyone says anything, I just punch ‘em, right? Or at least threaten to?” There is no way this plan could go wrong!

D’ex stifles a laugh, “Maybe don’t punch them. Maybe light threatening. Or how about no hand holding yet, but you and me actually go out for dinner for once. Somewhere public, yes, but that means no dishes afterwards. Hmm? Call it something other than a date?” D’ex has the plate of crepes, but will put one aside and cut it into pieces and whistles. Lady and Lord are zipping from above instantly. Both land and start to twitter, and D’ex will give each a little piece of crepe, though Lord will get a piece ever so slightly bigger than the older green’s. “Now, where you going to have any more of these yourself? Because if not, I’m going to eat them all.” Because the cook has a right to enjoy his creations as well. And D’ex intended to.

A’ndi looks a little confused as to what ‘light threatening’ is. You either threaten to punch someone’s kidneys inside out or you PUSSY OUT and don’t do anything at all. There is no in-between~! Clearly, he has much to learn. As for the dinner, there is a hesitant biting of the lip. “Sure, but. If we don’t call it a date, what do we call it? A business meeting? A-“ Taliveth breaks in suddenly with, « A CLANDESTINE MEETING TO EXCHANGE ILLICIT GOODS AND SERVICES. » The brownrider arches a brow most suspiciously at his dragon. “… Or that.” A’ndi scowls at the warning about the crepes and reaches quickly to snag one. “The fuck? Of course I’m going to have more. What kind of fuckin question…” Grumblemutter. He gets through about half of the crepe before pausing to look at it most ponderously, turning it a little side to side, while shooting quick glances at D’ex. Then, slowly, the other half is lifted up towards the bluerider’s mouth. Because this is a romantic thing people do, right?

There is a lot that happens between punching someone and pussing out, but here is not the time or place to educate A’ndi on the matter. D’ex will glance at Taliveth at those words, then frown and look at Zynth. Those sound like words Zynth might drop. Bad influence. “Something, yeah, maybe not that, but something. Put it on the pondering list, naming the not-date.” D’ex snickers at the crepe-snatching and moves the plate farther from A’ndi. The smirk only grows when the half crepe is offered. No words, but D’ex grins, folding his hands on the table and leaning forward to take the crepe into his mouth. He hums, they are good, kudos to the goats of Southern weyr. The plate of crepes is moved back into A’ndi’s reach, Lady and Lord land on the table to beg, but they are ignored now, “Affirmative on the Crepes then? Something that should be done in the future?” Oh wait, tiny bit of cream escaped onto A’ndi’s hand. Quick lick. Cleaner hand.

“All right. I’ll ponder it. Maybe we could call it a date… I mean, if I want to date your stupid ass, it shouldn’t be anyone’s fucking business but ours.” But just as quickly as he says this, his courage shrinks a bit. “Maybe. I don’t know. I’ll think about it.” It’s at least some kind of progress? In short order though words will begin to fail him. Because he is watching D’ex eat that crepe very intently, and his eyes widen at that quick little lick. DING lightbulb moment! Or, glow moment? “Very affirmative. But D’ex-“ Now it’s A’ndi’s turn to rest his hands on the table and lean forward, lowering his voice in an almost conspiratorial sort of way. “How much of that filling is left? And how much of a mess can we make in your weyr? Do you have some spare sheets to lay out? Or a tarp?” He is 100% serious and on a mission right now.

“You are not going to do anything terrible to my weyr.” And that is final. His arms fold, “I don’t have any filling left if you think you are going to mess up my weyr. No.” This Taliveth-moment is A’ndi will have to be met with a Zynth-moment in D’ex, “Your weyr is only next door and I’m sure that of the two of us, it is you who would have a tarp or canvas for all those rabbits you skin.” Zynth-moment will pass and D’ex will stand, turning to his very small ice-box. “Okay, I have half a gallon of cream, but it’s not beaten or sweetened yet. Still, that wouldn’t be hard.” He glances back at A’ndi, “I’m less opposed to messes in your weyr where I don’t have to think about them.”

D’ex’s Zynth-moment is met with a wicked, teasing smile. “It’s less about what I’m going to do to your weyr, and more about what I’m going to do to you. But if it makes you feel better-“ Shrug! “-we can use my weyr and my canvas. Unless the thought of all the dead animals that have been all over it bothers you. I’ve got some sheets, too.” A’ndi reaches out to grab a handful of D’ex’s shirt fabric, pulling the other man closer to inform him, “I’m gonna make you into my personal crepe.” It really is terrifyingly like if Taliveth developed a libido. In fact, the rusty brown’s « eeeeeheeheehee! » giggles can be heard drifting about the room.

“I wash your canvases, I’m sure of their cleanli-wait what?” D’ex just looks at A’ndi for a moment, looking for a punch line or something, but when it does not come, he just nods, “Uh-huh. Well, you are going to have to make do with whatever filling I can make from the cream I have.” He nods again, still wrapping his head around this idea, “Uh-huh. Okay.” While D’ex is no stranger to exploration in most feilds, this was not a direction he’s considered before, “Uh-huh.” It’s a real shame neither of them where clever enough to get a weyr with a built-in bath. Seriously, it would save so much time and cause so fewer stressors. One arm snakes around A’ndi’s waist, that mental giggling bringing up a new point, “Sunshine, it’s going to take about ten minutes to make the filling, and I think that if I do not wish to be crushed, then perhaps the wings should go out for a fly for this particular activity.”

Very few people on Pern have ever witnessed A’ndi being spontaneous. This fact may be a good thing for everyone, because it is just a little creepy. It doesn’t help that Taliveth’s giggles increase in volume and intensity, building up into full on maniacal laughter. « eeeeehahaa ha ha hahaha AHAHAHAHAHA AAAA MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!! » And the warship dragon is up, rumbling with his giddiness, striding out to the ledge like he just planned this all along. A’ndi leans in against D’ex, looking like he’s trying hard not to laugh. “All right. I’ll go nextdoor and set up, then you come over and we can kick them out to the beach or something. How’s that?”

D’ex has only two dragons that talk to him. And one of them is his own. And one is Taliveth. And Taliveth is still kinda… overwhelming? D’ex blinks at the increasing laughter, Zynth stepping in and icing off Taliveth from D’ex,and still D’ex will only have to blink agian, “Uh-huh. Sure. Yes.” He picks up the plate of crepes, takes one and offers the rest of A’ndi, “Take some for the road.” Then he is standing and starting to get his cream and sugar and beater. Spontaneity is not something D’ex is very good at, but he is trying. Zynth himself is standing and shaking off whatever sand might be clinging to his hide, « Come Brother. The waves call. Water should be warm tonight and less crowded than here. »

« OKEY-DOKEY! I’ll be right with youuuuuu~ Then we can sing lullabies to the dolphins! » But before that can happen, Taliveth must deliver his rider and his bounty of non-human crepes back to their own weyr, where the fresh batch of crepe-filling can be safely used to its full potential. As A’ndi heads out to the ledge and his waiting dragon, he calls back over his shoulder, “This should at least make a good story for your mind-healer, right?” And what that story is, and what things you can do with a person and delicious crepe-filling, shall be left to your imagination. Though the dolphins may receive a few pointers on the subject from dear Taliveth.

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