Who

Mayte, Jedi

What

An Igen goldrider and a Southern brownrider meet and compare notes.

Implied nudity.

When

It is the eighty-eighth day of Summer and 105 degrees. It is sunny and bright. White fluffy clouds drift lazily across the china blue sky.

Where

Turquoise Pools, Southern Weyr

OOC Date

 

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Turquoise Pools

Such beauty! Water the color of pure turquoise reflects the filtered light of Rukbat that comes through the small opening of the upper canopy; surrounded on all sides by lush greenery, the jungle stream tumbles into the brilliantly colored waters of the pool creating a waterfall that refracts the light into giving a near-constant, imperfect rainbow. The stream continues on, long past these hidden pools of turquoise, leaving behind the crown jewel of Southern's getaway spots. The spray of water from the small waterfall mists the rocks, and at some point in the centuries that Southern has been inhabited a quaint stone bridge was built to span the width of the small pools. Vines and jungle growth further add to the sense of seclusion, surrounded on all sides by nothing but nature. The area is thickly forested with many bamboo and palm trees.


It's not an unusual sight on the shores of Southern: a dark-haired young woman is taking nearly guilt-worthy pleasure in the Turquoise pools, splashing and singing off-key, the kind of off-key that no amount of shower-room solitude can fix. But Mayte dips her head underwater a few times, silencing but for the bubbles. Nearby, on the rocks is a rickety basket, propped open to show cheeses and a round wineskin, still plush with its fullness. Splish, splash, Mayte's takin' a bath… Clothes are… strewn, like she was in all haste to jump in, and who can blame her, amidst this beauty?

A sound of crashing draws nearer, and it's only so much longer before the source of the crashing is a Jedi with a machete (really, who on Pern has the bright idea to give Jedi a machete? Does no one remember the spears?). When she's had a moment for her eyes to adjust to the slight difference in lighting, her expression shifts a little — to a frown — before the woman just shakes her head, and approaches, the frown disappearing. "I hope you don't mind if I join you." The brownrider's mostly asking. Mostly. The machete is slid back into it's sheath, and as calmly as though she has permission, the redhead starts taking off her accessories. Like her belt, where the machete's sheath is strapped. A wineskin of Jedi's own accompanies her, but what precisely it contains is anyone's guess. The beauty of this corner of the jungle is perhaps one of the reasons Jedi came here today; but likely not the only.

Mayte was kinda underwater for most of the crashing but when she resurfaces, dark eyes turn to orient towards the noise. Blink. "Uh, yeah. No problem. And hi." That sounds friendly enough! "C'mon in, the water's fine." The resulting smirk indicates that should be a joke, but instead she watches the new-pants-off-watery-dance-off curiously. "Soooo. Are you from Southern?" Her unfamiliarity might clearly mark Mayte as Not From Around Here, but she'll add, "I'm Mayte. From Igen Weyr." No titles just yet. There's a pause and as Mayte starts to move over to her own wineskin, she's watching Jedi curiously.

"I am of Southern." Jedi agrees amicably enough. "I'm Jedi, Llioramasith's." Her lifemate likely lurks as close as he can be. After the happenings from the other day, the brown has stayed all but glued to Jedi's side. "From Igen, hm? No offense, but I don't understand how you deal with all the sand up there." A crooked grin is flashed at the other woman, and Jedi's wineskin is tossed over closer to the edge. Jedi finishes stripping (one of her boots might have gone sailing in the opposite direction, but what can you do?), and joins the other in the water. "How is Igen, these days?" A quick dunk to help herself adjust to the temperature, and Jedi's all ears.

A bright sunny grin is Mayte's response: "Well met, Jedi of Llioramasith's. Mayte, of Rhiscorath's." A little snicker about the weather's inclinations: "Awww, you get used to it after a while. And Rhiscorath loves playing in it, so…" a hapless, watery shrug, peeking over the crest of the lapping pool as Jedi slips into the water. "Igen's doing well," Mayte says almost bravely, "now that the ground has stopped shaking." Her tone is underscored with a sourness that taking and uncapping her skin hastens, so the liquid inside can hide any further notation. "But we got some lovely new caves out of it, so I guess fair is fair. And how's Southern doing? I heard Tuli and Elicheritath have gone over to Ista Weyr with Lendai and Talicanitath?" Polite enquiry, joined by the offer of Mayte's wine.

"A pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Jedi answers, salute and all, despite her being rather…unclothed. "I'm glad to hear things have settled down." The question as to Southern is met with quiet for a time. "They did, yes.. It's strange having both of them not here at Southern anymore. Other than that… We're as well as can be here, what with a killer loose in the Hold." Jedi frowns again, not sure how much else she can really say. Jedi's stayed as far out of the leadership loop of things as possible. "Otherwise…you know." Vagueness is vague. Her own skin is considered for a moment, before Jedi decides to take a drink of her own. She winces; the contents are clearly not her usual cup of tea. "How are you and yours?" Polite question, perhaps also a dodge.

The dragon gives it away. Mayte's smile is a little more reserved for a moment but she nods, "Thanks. And me too." Presumably about the settling down of things. The Hold's news earns a hiss of surprise: "A killer? Is the Headman okay?" Only the slightest of hesitations on Renalde's position but to gloss it over, Mayte's quick with another question, "I heard that they were using criminals to do some mining there…" Huff of disgust, "Type, then." Mayte isn't so much eye-for-eye: more eye-for-kidney-spleen-and-one-lung. Oh, look, a nice new subject, "We're good! Doing well, even if we're a little dusty." When isn't Igen dusty?

"He's claimed two victims that I've heard of. One of them one of our own." Jedi's expression is difficult to read, perhaps in part because she takes another drink. "Renalde's okay." She doesn't voice the 'for now' that lingers on her mind. "I don't really know much about it all other than that." Except who a couple of the victims were. "My advice would be to stay away if you can until the person responsible's caught." Because that would be the safe thing to do. "Good, I'm glad to hear it. Well, minus the dusty bit. Like I said; I don't know how you do it." She laughs a little. "What're you drinking?" Jedi's chin is jerked in the direction of Mayte's wineskin, even as she absentmindedly continues holding onto her own. Jedi, mistress of random subjects.

Eyebrows furrow at that and Mayte mmms. "And he's just… killing people?" The look on the young woman's face is part incredulity, part 'wtf', "What… wh… No." Mayte stops herself, "Asking why is just inane." The idea of visiting the Hold herself gets an amused snort, "Only if I want to send the Weyrleader into a complete tailspin and panic." For a brief moment, it looks like Mayte's actually considering, until realization traces over her face, then disappointment, "Ehh, Renalde'd have a hissyfit anyways." Doing what he does best, making grown women feel young. "This old thing? Just a red Benden." But Mayte is eager to take another sip of her 'just a red' wine, then nodding to Jedi's own skin, "You?"

"Unfortunately, yes. Well, that and stabbing people although there's some debate about how many of the stabbings he's actually behind." The brownrider remembers the need to breathe, and does so. She is already turning into a bit of a babbler, it seems. "I think it's rum." She thinks. Probably not a good thing. "It could also be that mixture I bought from that man at the market a couple turns ago…. Hm." Jedi considers it for a few moments, and shrugs. Clearly, to her, it doesn't really much matter. "I've never really been able to get a taste for the wines, in this time. Especially the Bendens. They just taste…so different." A wry grin is offered in the weyrwoman's direction.

More horror: "You mean there could be a copycat?" Jedi has successfully piqued Mayte's interest further. If Pern has antacids, Igen's Weyrleader may need some. "That sounds… wait, you think it's rum?" And now Jedi has successfully distracted Mayte: the wineskin-free hand props underwater on her hip, the other drooping so the skin starts to soak in the water. Anyways, about wines: "Different can be good," Mayte returns just as wryly, "Unless it's a bad different." Capitain del Obvious.

"Anything's possible.. Hopefully they catch whoever it is sooner rather than later." Jedi answers grimly, taking another drink. She makes a face again. "I should invest in a new stash of alcohol.." She decides, scowling at the skin. It's set aside, and Jedi quickly instead. Mayte's return gets another crooked grin. "Let's just say…I'm old fashioned in my tastes." Oldtimer/Oldfashioned. Get it? Haha? No? Okay. A shadow circles overhead, and Jedi squints up at it. "Time's almost up.. It was a pleasure meeting you, ma'am. Sorry I was a bit of drab company." Jedi's quick to bustle out of the water and dry off. Dressing is less quick however. Some of her clothing articles had no intentions of staying where she put them.

Mayte's eyebrows dart up and down in agreement, but she hmms reflectively. The subject of new alcohol? Always a welcome one: "Oh! If you're ever up at Igen, we got a real nice wine-store there. They weren't hit too badly in the quakes. Just ask for Eollyn. She'll set you up nicely." Jedi's looking up causes a chain reaction in Mayte so soon both eyes are craning towards the sky. "Aww, well. Nice meeting you too, Jedi. Don't forget Corks and Works in Igen." plug plug plug. The other woman's dressing process does have Mayte grinning a little and trying to hide it behind her wineskin, but perhaps she will kindly refrain from giggling gently until after Jedi takes off. After that, though, peals of laughter serenade the environment - a lot better than whatever song Mayte was massacring earlier.

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