Sweet Talkin' Sugar Coated Candy Man

Now they're putting on a weekend of fun to celebrate one last chance to be a kid before everybody is launched at mach 5 into adulthood: a festival. A candy festival. There are mud pits that are actually pudding, jell-o shots for those looking to lack sobriety, spun sugar made from whiskey, and the entire weyr DEFINITELY spiked the punch. There were even rides set up, the most curious of which is an ENORMOUS LOLLIPOP that DOUBLES AS A SLIDE. Is it sanitary? PROBABLY NOT. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS: BADASS. There's also colored dots, candy necklaces, vendors with (SIGH, BORING) NORMAL FOOD, harpers, a dance floor, and a variety of games (and fun houses) to get you through and JUST IN CASE YOU HAVE A SPECIAL SOMEONE (OR ONES, WE AIN'T JUDGING), there are RINGPOPS GALORE. Listen, you can't get married anyway because you're riders now, but that doesn't mean you can't pretend.

AHEM. Disclaimer: sexual themes, y'all.

Freedom seems to taste an awful lot like sugar and booze that will probably cause quite a few upset stomachs and hangovers, but that's a problem for future selves. Tonight… Inasyth might look like Pern's biggest brown as she's happily commandeered a puddle of klah flavored pudding as her very own wallow although the wrestling invitations have mostly given way to more cuddle requests. Don't ask Rhody how many candy necklaces she now has on since she lost track after a dozen. The hour has long since past that people have began to wander off to things like bed, but Rhodelia is still standing sitting for the moment, on a bench near one of the food stalls. One foot swings as she contemplates that plate of square fried wonders in front of her. "How is this fried beer???" The steam rising off of the still hot food is probably the only reason she hasn't investigated further. WITH HER MOUTH.

It's important that we start with the truth. The truth is that F'yr has made several trips between the location of the candy festival and his homestead, with backpack loads (and we're not talking his tiny little daypack, but his enormous, hunting trip backpack) of candy to stash for later. Get it while it's hot, right? At least since the bronzerider almost never invites anyone over, no one will have to see the extent of his hoard until it's dwindled some. When his personal mission was accomplished, however, it was back to the festival to enjoy all those items that wouldn't keep long term. He's wearing a candy necklace, as it happens. Or three. He's got his spun sugar made from whiskey but now he's a man on another mission. He barely glanced at the world's biggest brown and her cuddle requests because Glorioth is nowhere in sight. He was apparent most of the day, patrolling, and possibly also soaring majestically above the festival just to make sure they all knew whose RADIANCE they were really celebrating. His absence is conspicuous, and it explains why F'yr is finding Rhody, there on that bench, dropping straight to a knee, where his is right next to her own, and looking up at her with a slightly tipsy, but bright grin. "Rhody." LISTEN, RHODY, THIS IS IMPORTANT, for all that F'yr is keeping his voice low. "Glori's asleep." It's like a secret code that's not at all secret.

Rhodelia was just about brave enough to dare one of the secret-beer bites when a F'yr appears and she drops the square back into the still steaming pile like it's hotter than it actually is. She blinks as she hears the code, but doesn't really hear it at first. "Glori's asleep?" There's another blink before her eyes widen and she gives an "Ooooooooooohhhh!" of realization. Then her eyes drop immediately to the deep fried snacks she hasn't eaten yet before looking back up at F'yr. "Now?" Asking her to choose between him and deep fried beer would be cruel, luckily she does have a napkin to tuck over the plate and make it hopefully easier to carry.

The blonde waits for his fellow newly minted rider to get it. All he does is tilt his head a little and give her a meaningful look, but one that has a silent question in it. This is not F'yr showing up to collect on some debt, this is the man issuing an invitation Rhodelia doesn't have to take. "Now gives us the most time," the bronzerider observes, "but we don't have to." Now, or ever, really. "It's up to you," he pushes himself up from his knee enough to twist and settle beside her, even if he might not be keeping that seat very long. "Was there anything you wouldn't want to miss out on?" One hand gestures to the festival. It can be interpreted from this that the man, at least, is prioritizing what might happen should they escape and head back to Rhody's place over whatever else could happen at this shindig. "We could get some more food to take back with us." He suggests with a lift of his brows. Of course, fried things don't tend to keep well, but. He glances down to the covered plate and back to the goldrider, waiting patiently.

"We can eat these on the way," Rhodelia holds up her now covered plate, all ready to go. And she gives a serious consideration to the festival around them before shaking her head. "The rest I think I've seen. We might want to get some punch to go though." It never hurts to be prepared. Now that decisions have been made, Rhody wastes no time springing to her feet and offering her free hand to F'yr in case he needs it, even while grinning. "I just wasn't expecting… tonight. Figured he might be up all night making sure there were no candy foes running around."

"Sounds good," F'yr agrees. If it were the case that he would currently agree to try to capture BOTH moons and haul them down to hang just outside Rhodelia's loft door window right now because he's just that motivated, could he really be blamed? Thankfully, punch is a much easier quest to achieve and in much less time. Also thankfully, Glorioth is asleep and so will not hear whatever willingness to pursue impossible quests F'yr's mind might be doing, that might even be a bit of the bronze rubbing off on his lifemate. He takes the goldrider's hand without hesitation, but barely uses it to pull to his feet, keeping hold of it and seeking to interlace his fingers as he leads them weaving through the attendees of the festival to get into the short queue to get punch. "He was fairly concerned about what all this merriment might be a cover for. You know, villains are quite sneaky, and all that." Does he even know what he's saying right now? It might be that his mind is racing ahead and the words are just falling out of his mouth as something to pass the time until there's privacy.

Rhodelia leaves the lofty quests for Inasyth but seeing as she already has a WHOLE POOL OF PUDDING the gold is set for the night. Those interlaced fingers come in handy as they weave through their way through the crowd. Rhody's legs might be a lot shorter, but she's walking as fast as one can in such a throng of people. F'yr isn't the only one with some motivation after all. "I like the stories where the hero might be just as sneaky. Like the one where a displaced holder enters an archery contest and ends up winning back his hold." And once the punch is achieved, she'll tug on the bronzerider's hand a slightly different direction. "I found a shortcut a couple days ago!" Which short cut through the forest to her new home would be exciting enough any time, but at least doubly exciting given the current circumstances.

Blond brows briefly furrow as only some small part of his brain pays attention to the thread of the conversation and he inquires, "Just how much like one of those men on the cover of your books am I supposed to be tonight? If I have to make lofty claims of secret parentage and riches beyond your wildest dreams, I'm going to need more time to prepare a monologue." F'yr's voice holds some humor, but that big, goofy grin is still there. Maybe that's just the whiskey-sugar talking. Shortcuts are exciting. What's less exciting is the fact that they're limited in speed by the lack of lids on their punch cups, but they'll make it there, eventually. The bronzerider is, of course, only too willing to follow her lead, carrying both cups while she handles the fried beer. It's good to focus on the path, really, but at some point there does (almost by necessity) need to be an awkward question, "It's not strange that I'm excited, right? I need you to give me some credit for not starting with a million questions now." That doesn't mean they're off the table later, but maybe as long as he's being given credit for not asking questions, he'll keep his peace.

Rhodelia can't keep a straight face at the first question. She tries, but once the first snicker comes out it quickly becomes a full blown laugh until she steals her punch cup to take a swig to stop the laughing. "If you starting making any claims like that, you'll probably end up seeing more of Ajral than me tonight." Meaning she would totally drop him off with the mindhealers. "Normally there's not much talking at all…" At least not her her experience, but she gives a shrug. "First experiences are usually exciting, if it's something you're looking forward to. And if you have questions, now would probably be a good time to ask at least some?" They can multitask, speed-walk and answer questions AT THE SAME TIME. All the efficiencies tonight.

The noise F'yr makes is offended, thank you very much. "What? I mean, I showed up at the Weyr out of the blue, claiming to be but the poor son of farmers with nothing but the strength of my arms to offer my new home… and you think that doesn't spell out surprise, long lost heir to the nearest Hold who tragically just lost their Lord, but whose Lady has been looking for her—" and this is where he loses it in turn, dissolving into laughter. It's not bad for off the cuff though, amirite? "I'm pretty sure my questions are better for 'show' not 'tell'," he does add on that more serious vein of conversation, though it's with a smile. "But as long as you're showing me what I need to know as I go along," he clears his throat, and might just be blushing in the dark, "then I won't need to ask, I imagine." It is a few steps later that he adds, "Is there anything you think I should know you don't like before we get into the not talking parts?"

"It's not normally the strength of arms those long lost sons end up offering their ladies…." Rhodelia trails off with a waggle of her eyebrows before she busts out into even more laughter to the point where she nearly loses some of the punch. To avoid any potential future such issues, Rhody takes another long sip. Luckily the darkness of the forest at night covers any blushing from either party as they continue walking and there's a familiarly large building looming not too far away. "The basics at least are easy enough to figure out. And uhhh… it's not a race? And if there's something you're really not sure of, you can always ask. The normally not talking part is cause well, you can find some other things to do with your mouth?"

"Well, I mean… I could go back for a ring-pop?" F'yr's squinting in the darkness, surely. "It does seem like there might be a variety of issues with leaping to a move like that, though, especially-" and he cuts himself off. OOPS. NOTHING TO SEE HERE, definitely don't ask. That was definitely the whiskey. He clears his throat, mouth gone suddenly a little dry. Does it taste like foot up in here? It's fine, he stopped himself, right? Can he distract by saying, "I'd definitely like to find the best way to be using my mouth," in a way that definitely suggests he already understands it's not doing anymore talking?

Rhodelia might have a ring pop in her pocket but she's too busy staring at F'yr to actually remember it. "Wha- what move involved a ring-pop?" She shudders a little bit. "Seems like a waste of some perfectly good candy and a way to get some irritation where you don't want it." Private parts. Sticky sugar and private parts should not be mixed, personal hygiene 101. Rhody's pace speeds up just a bit more as the barn is definitely in sight. "I've liked how you used your mouth so far…" Maybe not always when he's running it, but definitely other times. The snack plate is balanced on the top of her punch cup as Rhody wrangles the door open and gestures F'yr in. "After you?"

F'yr chokes. No, really. This may be the end. RIP F'yr. Someone be sure to note the remaining bit of his virginity in his eulogy with all the standard text. All might have been lost save for the punch they very nearly didn't stop for. He gulps it now. When he's recovered enough for speech, he gasps, "I was talking about the part where the Lord's son asks his lady to marry him. Rings." MARRIAGE, more importantly. He was talking about commitment issues here, Rhody, not candy creativity. Thankfully as he appears to have survived his brush with death, he can, indeed, step through the door, and take another gulp of his drink on the other side.

Well, he had a good run and if Rhody's hands weren't already full she would probably pat him on the back to help with that coughing, but luckily the punch is there to save the day. As F'yr clarifies her own cheeks are turning red enough to probably be seen through the low light. She takes the last swig of her own drink and sets it down on a conveniently placed table and reach for a glowbasket. "I got some furniture. There's a couch now!" And indeed, the single glowbasket doesn't illuminate the whole barn, but there is indeed a comfy looking couch on the lower level and a klah table.

A COUCH, WHAT A WONDERFUL COUCH. (And perfect distraction.) "I'm most interested in the bed." F'yr tells her, only too happy to depart every other topic after one more swallow. He moves to set his drink beside hers, and take the plate from her hands, to add it to the growing stash, his lips pressed briefly together before he's reaching to offer her the strength of his arms in a kind of embrace that's going to lead to offering his lips for things much more pleasant than mistakes with words (or as a gateway for foot-in-the-mouth disorder), and eventually, if all goes according to F'yr's plan, they're going to completely bypass that lovely, fabulous, great distraction of a couch to find their way up the ladder to the bed beyond.

Perhaps hangovers and stomach aches have been a little mitigated by the activity of the night. There was excuse enough to get water, to be sure, and to sober up in the hours that went from late to early and led to sleeping in… and in… The cock's crow was ignored. As was the interruption of, « AHAHAHAAH AHAHAHAHHA HHAHHAH, » at much too early o'clock. F'yr worked a small miracle, probably tapping into this short list of ideas he doesn't abuse often to occupy his lifemate while he curled back into his bedmate for a while longer. Maybe Inasyth will even lend her assistance so Rhodelia and F'yr can get enough sleep to wake the good kind of exhausted, or at least near to it, sometime that probably is verging closer to afternoon than morning. It's a good thing, with the festivities, that they all had the day off. His shift is slow, rolling from side and slightly entangled limbs to his back to blink at the ceiling and slowly, slowly stretch. Whether she's awake yet or not, there are fingers that reach to trail her spine, following the line of it before he's shifting just as quietly and carefully to sit and reach for the water one or the other of them brought to the mattress-side sometime in the night.

Given her own sleep in the pudding pit, Inasyth is looking foe-ish enough that she should be an excellent distraction that she's more than happy to provide. How long it'll take to scrub all the hide back to its proper gold is a problem for future Rhody. Current Rhody is still asleep for the moment though one of those pleasant shivers arrives as F'yr traces her spine as she attempts to burrow closer into his side. As he shifts, Rhodelia offers a grunt of protest, her hand reaching out to try to bring him back and she squints up into the nearly afternoon light. Eventually she cracks one eye open and then the other. Finally up, she shifts to get into a more comfortable position with her head propped on one hand, the other resting still resting on his leg. "Congratulations? You didn't break anything." At least not anything she wasn't willing to part with. That one glowbasket was hastily discarded in the rush up the ladder might have seen some better days but she's willing to blame that one on gravity.

"Sorry," is a murmur to the grunt of protest, but it doesn't stop him from getting a drink, even taking the moment to swish the water around his mouth lest he breathe on her offensively and get himself uninvited from the very comfortable position he's in now. Nevermind that what's said on his breath is vastly more likely to get him done so, but wait. First there's the soft smile, blue eyes drawn down to Rhodelia's face. "Thanks owed to my teacher, I'm sure. There'd have been a lot more bumbling if not for her." He'll even shift so he can seek to kiss her, if not her lips then her forehead or cheek as it pleases Morning Rhody. Then, she can see why they can't just have NICE THINGS MOMENTS. F'yr makes a good play for breaking something: Rhody's brain. "Hey," it's not a promising start. "I know we're riders," duh, he squints a little at the wall or ceiling or pillow, wherever's handy that isn't Rhody's face, before coming back to it, "so it's unlikely and all that, but I'm… hoping we'll do this again," he's not saying he thinks this part is unlikely, but that order choice is really suspect, "and anyway, if it happened that you ended up… you know, pregnant, I'd want… the baby." LIKE, NO BIG DEAL. RIGHT? THIS IS WHAT YOU TALK ABOUT WITH WOMEN AFTER SEX? Clearly, he's had no cause to know before now.

"If I'm your teacher, do I get to give pop quizzes?" Given the subject matters, hers would probably be much more enjoyable than any Harper's quiz. That nice moment lasts for approximately half a minute as Rhodelia returns the kiss, but then F'yr has to go ruining things with words. The order definitely doesn't help as the gears visibly turn in her head as she processes that all out. "Riders can sleep together more than once…" Rhody not quite computing yet, but it's coming as she blinks a few more times before she's bolting upright. "If I WHAT?" yes, she heard it the first time, but her ears are really not believing.

Given the subject matters, F'yr would probably be all in favor of pop quizzes, really, but he never gets a chance to say so. The conversation has moved on and— up, apparently up. The big bronzerider is following, his hand reaching toward Rhody's hand, though not at all sure of his reception for all that he's recently been acquainted much beyond the point of hand-holding. "It's not going to happen," he's quick to assure. "Dragonriders, betweening, tea," he offers the various assurances that she's got this covered. "I just… if it ended up happening, I didn't want you not to know how I'd feel about it." It's possible Rhody has missed all the opportunities to see F'yr get dopey over babies and kids, after all. He does have the grace to say, "Maybe this wasn't the right time to bring it up…" Does he get points for that revelation, teach?

The hand's reception is a bit feistier than it would have been a few minutes before. Despite how close and personal they had been the night before, Rhodelia grabs for the blanket and pulls it up over her chest as if the fabric will serve some sort of protection from uncomfortable conversations. Or maybe she's just trying to hide from any surprise babies as she stares at F'yr like the man has lost his sharding mind. "It's not happening." Rhody repeats again as if her faith in that will make it so. "But was that why you wanted to with… a woman? With me?" The last is barely even a whisper. Right now, they're so far off the answer key which knows what F'yr's final grade will be. Needs Improvement maybe?

Whoops. If nothing else was a clear sign to the bronzerider that he really did step far the way of things not to bring up, it's that Rhody's blanket is in motion, but he doesn't volunteer her space. "No, no, it's not happening," he stresses, his tone soothing. Maybe it's the barn that makes it easy to put on that calming voice that might well be used with spooked mammals of other varieties. He doesn't reach for her again. "I only meant that we hadn't talked about what if, and if, I wouldn't want you to just… you know, feel like you were alone, because." HE LIKES BABIES. "I'd want it." He glances over at Rhody, lips pressing together, trying to gauge how well or poorly he's doing with this wild swing into left field. He adds, because may it will help, "I wanted with you because you." It's not really a correct sentence, so she could find some red ink for that, but the sentiment is earnest.

Since it is winter and barns are drafty, the blanket might be for warmth as well as temporary shield. Rhodelia curls a little bit inwards as she brings her knees up to her chest as she stares and takes a deep breath before trying to gather her own words. "We just graduated." Literally just graduated the night before. R'hyn gave that speech and everything. "I still have trouble figuring out what I want half the time…" Even if last night she seemed plenty decisive. "You can't change your mind on a baby. So I don't even think about it. I take the tea regularly, between frequently…" She gives another deep breath and a slight shiver. "I guess people should talk about that type of thing, it does kind of kill any mood." At least any mood Rhodelia might have been going for. Out in her delightfully foe-ish romp, Inasyth's caught wind of this baby-talk and the gold lets out a rather enthusiastic bugle as dozens upon dozen of little porcelain infant figurines swarm between her champagne bubbles. Some cooing and some sleeping, a few crying and maybe even one pooping. Her own mind can't contain this army of babies and so she'll even toss a few towards her bronze-brother's way. « WOULDN'T THEY JUST BE WONDERFUL??? »

"Rhody," F'yr twists to face her, his hands reaching out to try to get purchase on either shoulder, even if he has to turn and kneel to really do it. "I'm not asking you to have a baby. I'm not saying you're going to have a baby. I just have never had it happen that it could even be a possibility, and… I didn't want to take any chances." WITH THEIR PURELY THEORETICAL BABY. He's gonna make a good (terribly indulgent) dad someday. But not TODAY, nor in the next nine to ten months, thankfully. "We don't have to talk about it anymore." He's told her the thing he was going to tell her. But now… now they're here. He presses his lips together briefly before tilting his head a little. "Do you want me to go?" He clearly does not want to go, but now that he's made things just so awkward, he's not going to force her to let him stay (he probably never was). "Or we can maybe…" There are right words here, and though his hand does aim to caress down her shoulder as both fall away, what he actually suggests is, "get dressed and head to the caverns for a soak and breakfast?" They could always come back here after, but fortunately for his idiot quota for the morning, he doesn't say that either. Glorioth, for his part, is silent, and then in the most judgmental tone he can muster (and, oh, it's real judgemental) he scolds the gold. « SHROUD YOUR PERVERSIONS, MY BRAINSICK BOGEY. THERE ARE MORE IMPORTANT MATTERS TO HAND. » LIKE HIS VALIANT BESTING OF THE DESSICATED PUDDING MONSTER. HEAD IN THE SHARDING GAME, INASYTH.

EVEN PURELY THEORETICAL BABIES MIGHT BE TOO MUCH TO HANDLE FOR RHODELIA BEFORE SHE'S EVEN GOT HER FIRST CUP OF KLAH IN! Her eyebrows shoot up nearly to her hairline when F'yr let's that maybe hang, but he saves it by not suggesting what she thought he was going to (maybe he gets an extra point or two there), but regardless she gives a tiny handshake. "I need to scrub Ina clean. And calm her down." Since one of Pern's largest dragons is currently caked in pudding and who knows what all else that task might take literally forever. For her part, Inasyth is unphased by the pudding or even Rhody's shakiness. But she gasps as Glorioth dares to call babies perversions and the pudding monster lets out a very displeased rumble. « BABIES ARE LIKE THE MOST NATURAL THING EVER!!! » So like the complete opposite thing of a perversion. « Usually riders are like greens and after they fly in bed there's no eggs, but sometimes after a male rider and a female rider catch each other they get lucky!!! Except like, they only get one. Or maybe two eggs.» So sad not to have a full clutch. « And the woman has to be egg heavy for a full nine months and doesn't just let them harden on the sands. » Ina's mind is fully in the game except that's changed completely from pudding monsters to Sex Ed By Ina.

« YOUR PERVERSIONS, » Glorioth MAGNANIMOUSLY CLARIFIES, in a rare moment of generosity. (Yes, folks, this is what passes for generous here.) « IT IS YOUR OBSESSION THAT IS PERVERSE. » This does not help to clarify the bronze's personal position on babies. That will have to come another day. « YOU'VE LOST YOUR FOCUS. » And thus also the bronze's attention. So it's really quite good that Rhodelia is refusing F'yr because he's about to be needed for FAR MORE HEROIC THINGS than tiny, squishy babies or the messy process of making them. Ina can give her lecture to somebody else, because whatever she's saying is not nearly as interesting as (LET'S SAY IT ALL TOGETHER!) Glorioth. "Okay," F'yr lets it go. Not that Rhodelia doesn't actually need to clean Inasyth, because she does, and not that the bronzerider isn't needed for other things, because he is, but because he's met this woman he's in bed with a time or two (or sixteen hundred, by this point), and he probably has decided that this is one moment when the goldrider needs not only her denial but her space. He does seek to squeeze her hand, to lean in and press a lingering kiss to her cheek. "I'm sorry." He offers, for spoiling the end of it all. Maybe he can find a way to make it up to her? Unless she's bidding him to stay, he's moving off the mattress to collect his clothes and beat a hasty enough retreat that he can meet Glorioth outside and not have him sticking his perversion-hating snout in Rhody's loft door, again.

Add a New Comment
Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 License