Dinner Time!

Xanadu Weyr - Weyrling Barracks
A long and roughly oblong cavern. About a third of the space is open, used for classes or chores as required. The rest of the space is filled with couches of varying sizes, all with plenty of space between them. Some couches are obviously intended for the very young weyrlings while the largest ones at the back are for the older weyrlings.
There are supplies for the care of dragons tucked back against the walls. A barrel of oil sits with scrub brushes and soft clothes, and a thick hardwood table is used to prepare meat in bite-sized pieces for the young dragons. There's also a few supplies for the weyrling humans, like bedding for cots or extra pillows for those sleeping on their lifemate's couch.

With a little over three seven-days under their belt, this new life - while hardly routine - has started to fall into an sort of expected pattern - Sleep, Chop, Eat, Oil, Bath, Exercise. It is currently late-afternoon, not quite dinner, though you could likely assume otherwise given the fuss being raised by one sunlight-sea green, who is currently pacing back and forth, tail lashing. « Fooooooood, Ricki. Fooooooood. » She projects, her voice reverberating almost like a hum through the mind of any unfortunate soul who happens too close, clearly too caught up in her upcoming meal to control her projection. Ricki, for her part, looks as if she is fresh in from the training grounds, clothes still dirty, sweaty, and clinging to her form as she attempts to hurriedly work at chopping meat, keeping her body between the pile and her lifemate, and not smear that lovely red meat juice on her face, though she is failing most dramatically at the last part as she pushes her hair out of her face with the back of her hand. "Iczy, Shards.. Will you just…"

« Food is VERY important, » Tsarziath chimes in helpfully as he sits nearby, watching his own lifemate gather up a pile of meat to begin carving into bite-sized chunks. « Where would we be without food? Some nice, oozing red meat, maybe chased by some of those lovely biscuits… » The blue's voice trails off almost audibly. « Uh, » he adds, under a blue-grey glare, « I mean, what I imagine biscuits would taste like if I was allowed to have some, of course. » There's a sense of more muttering, under-the-breath and just on the other side of perception. "I'm going to find out which weyrbrat slipped you sweets and I'm going to have them in here carving your meals for a sevenday," Niko mutters, turning back to his chopping with a gusto born of frustration.

« Ricki had a red…. red thing. It was not meat. It was juicy though. And sweet. Like biscuits. It would go good with meat, I bet! » Iczy counters Tzarziath's input, even as she is shifting to settle back on her haunches, stretching her wings out for balance as she momentarily ceases her assault on Ricki's cutting station, her attention turned to regard Tsarziath carefully, tilting her head as she regards him. « If I was allowed to have some, of course. » She mimics, the thrum of her mental voice dampened somewhat. "At least it wasn't you. She managed to steal a whole plate from me on the second day, and I was too tired to even wonder what happened, until she was asking for more. Now I'm pretty sure she could steal a whole banquet table and I wouldn't notice." Ricki sighs softly, stealing a glance at Niko, before she is turning to toss a chunk of meat her lifemate. "Iczy, shut up and catch."

Tsarziath turns from his patient staring at N'kon's back to regard his sister thoughtfully, wedge-head tilting to one side. « Red thing? I have not had any red things other than meat. Or any brown things, or white things, or taupe things, » he adds, with a sly sidelong glance towards his lifemate. Grunting, the bluerider makes a gesture with one blood-smeared hand that probably isn't best described in mixed company. « What does that mea - oooh. Potty mouth! Hand! Whatever. » Sulking, the blue drops down low to the ground, eyeing the meat-tossing Ricki. « Me next? My lifemate's so slow it'll be breakfast time before my food's ready, » he adds snidely, in what he no doubt considers a clever insult.

Iczobyth actually manages to catch the hunk of meat, though her gracefulness does not last for long as the movement sends her teetering slightly to the side, and an awkward, quite undignified sound escapes her. « Ricki! » She protests, even as she is working to right herself and untangle lanky baby limbs from each other. Thankfully for everyone involved, Iczy missed Niko's gesture, so for now that won't be added to her repertoire - and doubly thankfully for Tsarziath, the green's toppling leaves the chunk of meat flying from Ricki towards him unlikely to be intercepted. "Be nice.." She murmurs, even as she returns to chopping. "How long before we can just.. push them at the whole side of beast?"

Sending a grateful glance Ricki-wards for stuffing Tsari's maw - however briefly - Niko returns the favor by winging one gently towards Iczobyth once her own piece is devoured while the blue is chomping away at his chunk. Although the weyrling dragon sends his dearly beloved an evil look, he doesn't -quite- protest his sister's good fortune. Instead, he hurriedly clears his maw and gapes it at Niko, waiting patiently for the next. "Sweet Faranth, I hope soon," groans the techcrafter, lobbing another chunk between Tsarziath's teeth before returning to making short work of what was once a rather hefty herdbeast. "Tsari, are you - are you inching?" Freezing mid-scootch, the blue tilts his head to the side and widens his eyes - a gesture quite familiar to any who have watched Niko work his own innocence-charm before.

Grace recovered and limbs back beneath Iczy in all the places they are suppose to be, the green doesn't even have time to beg for food before there is a piece coming from Niko's direction and she is happily devouring it, wings spreading slightly as she sits back to peer at Ricki again. « Food, Ricki ? » The hum is back to her voice, and one again the mimic is back to copying her brother, though without as much actual charm or effectiveness. Ricki glances up from her chopping to peer from Tsari to Iczy and back, before gaze flicks to Niko, and she grimaces. "I think your lifemate is giving mine bad habits." -Totally- all Tsari and not anything Iczy is known for on her own, promise.

"I am pretty sure that Tsari's going to give everyone bad habits before this is all over with," Niko deadpans as he finishes carving the last of his portion of meat, gathering it all in a pair of overflowing buckets. The blue eels closer as soon as the weyrling's attention is turned, so that when he turns with the buckets in hand, he comes face to snout with the blue. « Hi, Niko! Got something for me? » Before the young man can so much as get half a curse out, the blue has his snout buried in one of the buckets, dantily gulping down the bloody chunks with delicate gusto. Dropping both buckets, N'kon backs away, leaving his lifemate to devour what seems like half his weight in raw flesh. "He does it on purpose." Giving bad habits, or sneaking up on Niko?

Thankfully, Ricki is finishing up her own chopping not long after Niko, and so the knife has been safely put down and there is no danger of injury when Niko's face-to-face encounter with Tsari sends Ricki into a too-tired fit of giggles. However, there is still the 'danger' of a green who is now left waiting for her dinner while her brother devours his. « Riiiiiiiiickkkkkiiii.. » Iczy whines, even as a sideways look at Tsari has her inching slowly towards his second bucket. Giggles fade as hiccups start, and Ricki frowns, muttering as she starts pushing Iczy's meal into her own buckets. "Don't you even think about it.." She snaps, buckets settled on the ground as she moves to grab Iczy's creeping tail. "Yours is right here, leave his alone." At least she listens, though, because even at this young age, what good is a human on a weyrling tail really going to do?

« Back, knave! » Tsarziath cries at Iczy's abortive motion, mouth full of meat but mind ever ready to reach forth in insult - or banter. « Look to your own food, you… you… reprobate! » Eyes wide with fascination, Niko shoves his hands in the pockets of his pants and rocks back on his heels, staring open-mouthed between the two dragons. "I… don't even know where he gets it from," the weyrling murmurs, awed. "It's like he's perfectly happy to use my vocabulary - until somewhere along the line he dips into the mind of some centenarian somewhere and comes up with…" He trails off, jerking his chin towards the gorging blue.

« MMMMMMmmmmmm Ricki. » Iczy protests, even as she is shoving her face in her own buckets, her attack on Tsari's territory halted. « You must see that Tsariziath lies! » She protests, pulling her muzzle out of her bucket, stuffed with meat, as she turns to stare at the blue, likely having no clue what he actually said. Reassured that the green is settled, Ricki abandons her hold on the tail, rubbing dirty hands on just as dirty shorts, sighing as she moves to stand closer to Niko, but still close enough to Iczy to intervene in any further turf wars. "At least he hasn't been adding new words to your vocabulary, and insisting they are just as valid as the rest." And there is a rather irritated foot stomp from the sea-green at that statement, causing another giggle from Ricki - though at least the hiccups seemed to be short lived.

"I take it Iczy is a budding wordsmith?" Niko murmurs, watching the pair scarf their dinners, pockets flexing where his fingers are no doubt aching for a camera. However, despite his fascination with photography, even he isn't about to grab his equipment with blood-and-grime streaked fingers. "No, I understand every word out of his mind - even if I couldn't tell you the last time any of them was actually used in conversation - if ever," he adds dubiously, staring down at the dapperly-dressed and gore-grimed blue. Storm-grey eyes slide from one dragon to the next, studying Iczy's picturesque form before allowing his gaze to skim over and up to Ricki's face. "So. This is now a thing," and he frees one hand to gesture - TsariIczyRickiNiko.

From afar, N'kon grins. As you read them, mind Tsari's inspirations - Alexia, with a dash of Connal. ;)
"Wordsmith is probably being too kind." Ricki mutters back, thankful that Iczy is quite distracted with her dinner, the first bucket already empty and her freckled muzzle starting in on the second. "Iczobyth. Slow -down-.." She interrupts herself in that scary 'human mom' voice that she has already started to learn. The green actually listens - for now - and after a moment, Ricki is relaxing, watching the two before she glances over at Niko, smiling and nodding slowly. "Isn't it scary?"

"Scary?" Niko echoes, eyes wrinkling at the corners as he fights back a grin. "Hell, yeah, this is scary. That little monster," and he gestures towards Tsari, who is licking at the inside of the first bucket to catch every stray scrap of meat and gristle, "is linked to me. Indelibly. I've never had anyone…" He trails off, mouth snapping shut, and turns his head way - although not, perhaps, before Ricki catches sight of the gleam in his eyes, "I just hope I don't disappoint him," he says after a long moment of silence, his voice oddly gruff as he turns his gaze back on his lifemate. Perhaps hearing the words - perhaps simply feeling the emotions - Tsarziath lifts his head from his contemplation of the second bucket and gives his rider a glance overflowing with love and affection - then he buries his snout in the second bucket and begins to inhale the rest of his supper.

"Hey.." Ricki offers softly, lifting a hand to rest it on his arm for a moment - but only a moment, as she is glancing over at Iczy to make sure she didn't catch the emotions that went with it. No - she is quite content to stuff her face, the second bucket knocked over in her haste, the last few chunks disappearing down her throat without even being chewed. A soft sigh, and Ricki just shakes her head, smiling back at Niko and attempting to lighten the mood. "Maybe not just Scary. Terrifying. Especially with him being such a terrible influence on my impressionable little girl." A impressionable little girl who is now practically staggering around her too-full belly.

If Tsari were such a terrible influence, then Iczy would have far better table manners. For all he's swallowing his dinner as soon as it enters his mouth, the dapper little blue gives the impression, at least, of dining with grace and delicacy. Indeed, his sister's sloppy inhilation and inebriated mannerisms after the fact earn a glance of scorn and a soft, if affectionate, « Lush. » It's lucky for the pair that their dragons get along so smashingly. Imagine the opposite. As Ricki's hand comes down on his arm, Niko glances at it, then briefly brushes his fingertips against hers before she pulls away. "Terrifying," he agrees, clearing his throat as he gazes at the little blue dragon making certain to clear his plate. And his sister's plate. And the floor. « About dessert… »

That simply means that clearly, Iczy has learned to mimic someone else's table manners - though whose, that is potentially up for debate. A snort at her brother, a stomp of her foot and she is settling on her couch, only taking a few attempts to get curled up, purposefully putting her back to Tsari. Ricki's attention - and her soft smile - shift from her lifemate at the throat clearing, arching an eyebrow as she follows Niko's gaze, shrugging a bit. "Well, at least that is slightly less to clean up." At some point, there is only so much tired, and so much care to give.

"No dessert, greedy guts. Go make nice," Niko replies, shooing Tsari in Iczy's direction. The blue grumps for a moment, long tongue running continuously over his muzzle to ensure that it is properly clean before he waddle-struts towards his green sibling, that low-pitched almost-grumbling rumbling like distant thunder at the edges of their minds. « Sorry, sorry, let me in, you're not a lush. » As far as apologies go - well, it sucks, and isn't particularly sincere, although the stroking of the blue's muzzle down the green's presented spine is gentle and far more apologetic than his blustering words. Inching closer to Ricki - close enough to reach out, brushing a hand down her arm in a motion reminicint of his dragon's soothing, Niko murmurs, "She'll be fine. I'll keep an eye on both of them. Go wash up and sleep."

Iczobyth's mind is a slow, low hum, which changes pitch slightly as her brother closes the distance, before she quiets and turns to nudge Tsari gently, accepting his 'apology' as it is. A shifting shuffle, and the green makes room for him, if he wants it. « Maybe I will share dessert later, now. » Leaning lightly against Niko, Ricki sigh softly, nodding. "Thank you, Niko.." She offers, lingering for a moment before straightening back up, glancing around as if to sort out her plan.

Tsarziath climbs into Iczy's couch, wrapping his slightly larger form with hers until only the colors of their hides differentiate which dragon is which. "Anytime, babe," he murmurs, taking advantage of the dragons' distractions to lightly squeeze Ricki's arm before stepping back, making shooing motions. As she settles her mind, he moves to a pile of towels nearby, taking one up to begin scrubbing himself free of as much of the blood and grime of dinner time as possible. Eventually, someone else will be along to play babysitter, and he'll get his own wash. If he doesn't just conk in his dragon's empty couch, first.

Iczobyth shifts a bit, her wings drooping to settle against him with a soft little snore, her bulging belly sticking out a bit, as she dozes off quite quickly, little humming purrs audible as she settles, totally unbothered by Ricki's quick departure to take a bath and possibly grab a bite to eat that she doesn't have to protect from Iczy - quick enough to hopefully relieve Niko before he gets too sleepy.

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