Never Again

Xanadu Weyr – Forest

In sharp contrast to the treeless, carefully manicured look of the main clearing, the forest is full of trees, and maintains most of its natural look. Wild flowers grow in their seasons, bordering the road leading from the main clearing as weaves its way between the stands of trees - wide enough for traffic of all types, even draconic. Leading off are several smaller, less worn trails, which branch outwards, making their way to private residences and other attractions - the theater for example. The road, though, continues on eastward, to the feeding grounds and the mine, and beyond that, to the coastal road out of Xanadu's territory.

Amongst the normal weyrs scattered amongst the trees, there is one that is undergoing construction. A large, four-sided structure is protruding, supported by thick wood beams, bearing a ledge, and four large clock faces. It towers over the trees, creating quite a sight for arriving riders.

It's a warm Spring morning on one of those days better spent inside. The sky is leaden, pouring forth a spate of steady showers that thoroughly drenches everything, the air rain-washed and freshly-scented with new growth and wet pine. The canopy overhead does little to shield the forest floor as rain collects to drip in concentrated bursts, but thankfully the duff collected there prevents mud from forming. The understory of bushes, flowers and ferns, a-sparkle with drops, are undisturbed by passersby as most sane folks are indoors and dragons curled within their weyrs. All but a certain gold who loves this sort of weather. Through the mist-like curtain of rain, weaving between grayed tree trunks walks Seryth, wings half-furled to provide shelter for her Rider who walks with her.

'Some like it hot, some like it cold,' isn't that the old Terran rhyme? Sigam struggles to remember it as he slips through the haze, dark hair plastered to his head. The Dragonhealer is positively drenched, but doesn't seem at all bothered by this; indeed, his lips are curled into an easy smile, body utterly relaxed despite the chill of the rain, until- Pounce, splash! A curtain of water rises up around black boots, mud flicking indescriminately up his legs. A quiet peal of laughter emerges deep from within his chest, almost childish in nature as he aims for another puddle. Muscles tense, shove off, body arches, and /splash!/ Another puddle meets its fate at the hands of Sigam's boots.

Thea pauses mid-step at the sound of the laughing and leans to peer around one dark tree trunk, Seryth follows suit, her golden neck dipping and curving to gain Thea's perspective. The result is one human head poking out from behind the tree with a dragon head above it like some sort of disjointed old-Earth totem pole. For a moment she watches in silence, puzzlement and amusement vie for supremacy. Hard to decide which wins. Finally she asks, "Are you drunk then Sigam?" Little apprehension to the tone, along with a wince.

Rain water sprays out from Sigam's head as it snaps Thea and Seryth's way with whiplash speed. The first look to cross his face is confusion, then mild terror and petulance before settling on 'quietly humored.' "No," he murmurs, eyeing their stooge-like peeking with the bare bones of a smile lifting his face. "Not this time." He, too, winces, but this is at something obviously internal: the expansive gap in his memory from waltzing into the bushes with a kilt in hand to waking up the next day hanging half out of his cot with an unknown firelizard screaming not-at-all happily. "Though I'd certainly be much warmer, wouldn't I?" Sigam takes his mood back up a notch with a laugh, taking a great leap into the next ill-fated puddle. He seems intent on shaking his boots out for a long moment before turning feigningly-woeful eyes upon the gold pair once more. "I didn't do anything stupid, did I? Rhasmir won't - or can't - tell me a thing."

At the question, Thea can't help but laugh, "I guess you would be, although you might be drier too." Unless Rhasmir happened along with some sort of new insanity to drag him into. She steps forward, Seryth moves with her, that wing curves above her head keeping her dry. Sigam is given a look as she appears to give serious consideration to his question. Oh the irony! Her brow raises and she drawls, "Where do I begin? Drinking too much, for one." Look where it got him, her look seems to say. Then she stops and her eyes widen in feigned shock, "He didn't -tell- you?" There's a hint of a smile quirking the corner of her mouth.

Sigam's hand waves through the air dismissively, eyes dancing as he denies her claim. "Nah, not in this weather. This is just right for being out in the rain - not bone-achingly cold, but not disgustingly muggy either." He does notice that she is keeping under Seryth's wing to stay dry, but as the effort seems to be mostly on the dear gold's part, the Dragonhealer shuffles the idea of kicking water up at her into the back of his mind. The only hint of its passing is a brief mischevious smile. "Right, you have me there, I definitely did enjoy that whiskey a little too much, but tha-" Sigam's voice catches, eyes hardening into tiger's-eye gems at her shock, seriousness seeming to cloak his form even as he seeks out another nearby pool of water to obliderate. "No, he didn't," the Dragonhealer practically growls, falling hook, line, and sinker. Whatta sucker, and there even seems to be the lingering threat of a beating in Rhasmir's near future! "What, exactly, went down?" Besides him, of course.

"You know about the kilt, I'm guessing you woke up in that." Thea answers dryly, watching him move to that next puddle. She has no idea what's going through his mind, alas, no mind-reader is she. Her head tilts to one side, "The dancing. Do you remember that part?" Her lips twitch, working on keeping a straight face. Seryth for her part seems content to peer at the sky, blinking the raindrops from her jeweled eyes while that wing remains extended over her rider, the drops pit-patting off of it in myriad drum-like cadences. Thea just lets her question hang.

Sigam's trademark barking laugh is somewhat dampened by the rain's efforts, but it is there nonetheless, lips hiking up in a feral smile. "Oh yes, yes I did. That and a garter," he says, eyes sliding over to give Thea a level gaze. "Somehow, I think I am happier not knowing the story behind /that/." Despite that, her revelation seems to startle the poor 'healer, whose eyes expand in a comical manner before shuttering sheepishly. He wades into ankle-deep water before spinning, one toe angled downwards to kick up a fine sheet of spray that hopefully doesn't hit Thea in imitation of a long-dead singer and dancer. "I definitely do not remember that," he murmurs before taking up a quiet hum. "What, ahm… /kind/ of dancing was this, per se?" He finally risks a glance at the goldrider, and though it is brief, she'll catch the blush scooting across his cheeks if she's looking. "I can only imagine the kinds of things I'd attempt in that state."

At the mention of the garter, Thea makes a falsely sad face, "That's a real shame. Some of the Kitchen gals we have working here might have given-" She half-grins then and changes direction, "Hmm, not sure what you'd call the steps, really." Her smile turns sly, "There was a rather ungainly sprawl on the floor, which in that skirt…" She leaves that thought unfinished as she pretends to search her memory, "You kissed the Weyrwoman…" The pale green eyes dance and she's ducking the sheet of water as it comes spraying her way. A few drops hit their mark, but she flicks them away with a fingertip, watching for his reaction.

Dark brows raise loftily, and Sigam spares the goldrider a glance as he kneels to pull a splashed stone out of the top of his boot. "Would have given… what, exactly?," he inquires, a slightly amused and interested quirk playing about the corners of his mouth. "Considering Rhas's nature, they were probably quite upbeat. I swear, that man plays naught but cheery bar songs. Considering /he/ woke up spooning his guitar…" Okay, so maybe that's a stretch of the truth, but whilst we're spinning half-truths and little white lies… A wince is given, along with a scrunch of the nose and a distasteful coughing noise. "I'm sorry for that." And then, all of a suddenly, Thea is on the receiving end of Sigam's full attention, eyebrows nearly disappearing under the scattered mop of his hair. His entire body goes still for a quick moment, gaze boring intense holes into her eyes before he speaks, voice pitched up an octave higher than usual. "I /WHAT/?" If he was blushing before, he's all kinds of pink now, the color flushing down his neck in a most unmanly fashion.

Thea quirks a brow at Sigam, "You honestly need me to answer that? Given you a good time of course. But since you cannot remember it, well. Pity. That's all." She shrugs. Seryth slowly settles to the forest floor, not seeming to mind the damp one bit, curling her forearms in front of her feline-like. Thea takes advantage of this to have a seat, push-hopping up on a leg and scooching back to be comfortable. Then there's that nearly-screeched 'what?' and she blinks innocence, eyeing that flush. Cooly she asks, "What?" Her head tilts, her dark hair swings away on one side as she does so, "Not embarrassed surely?" She's having a hard time trying not to smirk, but she manages.

"Oh /no/, not embarrassed at /all/." Make way, the S.S. Sarcastic Sigam is docking! "It's just… cavern harpies are one thing. Kissing the We-," he halts, seeming unable to complete the word. "Well, that's something different altogether," he grumps, a little perturbed by her nonchalant attitude about the whole thing. Didn't she understand? Bronzers went around snogging Weyrwomen! Not him! Yet, he can't seem to find the words for this, and after a moment of fish-like gaping and futile hand gestures, he finally settles himself onto the forest floor with a squish. It takes a moment, but he seems to compose himself, blush narrowing to little points on his cheekbones and ears as he draws upon logic and earlier conversation."I think I would remember if I gave, or received, a good time - of any sort," he all but purrs, arching an eyebrow over at Thea. "Are you sure it was me, and not my evil twin out to get me into trouble?" The words come out steadily with a weak chuckle, but a nervous tic seems to be developing in his left eye; he still believes her. Reel that puppy in!

Thea pats Seryth's leg, "No need to sit in the wet. Seryth wouldn't mind." His purr has her laughing outright, "Maybe your evil twin put the garter there then?" She cannot quite relent yet, but seems to really wonder as she asks the next question with more than a little curiosity, "If you're so uneasy about what you may have done while drunk, then why even let it happen? I mean… losing control like that… some things’re bound to cause regret later." No censure, no lecture. Just the honest wonderment and an observation as she points out, "At least you have some control over the situation, which is more than Riders of female dragons have when they become proddy." There's a bit of a growl to her voice then. "We're quite the entertainment come time for that." Her lips twist in wry distaste at some thought.

Sigam considers the offering for a long moment before rising to his feet with a small grunt of effort. An attempt is given at wiping some of the mud off his pants, but there's simply no helping them, and with a soft sigh, he aims a little smile up at Seryth before settling onto the foreleg next to Thea. "Yeah, okay," he laughs, head shaking, "Even if I did have an evil twin, that would be wandering into a realm of the strange that I'm not willing to explore." Several answers seem to come and go, the emotion behind each skittering across Sigam's face. More than once he runs a hand across his cheeks, pulling off water, before he finally shrugs. "That's something I've considered many times, Thea. Shards, it's part of why I don't indulge often anymore - because of this. What's the point of a few hours running around in a drunken high, being annoying as sin, and then doing stupid, regreful things… I just- It's hard, around Rhas. He reminds me of the fun stuff. Kid stuff. Sneaking-into-the-wine-cellars-and-getting-smashed stuff. I'm not blaming him, or calling him a bad person, but through the schemas I've wrapped so tight around him, it becomes easy for me to jump right back into that recklessness…" He trails off eventually, as if realizing he's rambling in an effort to organize his own thoughts. Dark eyes become intent on Thea as he listens to her talk, and a sort of sympathetic softness takes away an edge or two that's appeared on his face. "I'm going to take a wild guess and say that's something you lot don't appreciate." Leaning forwards so his elbows rest on his knees, Sigam finally breaks his gaze, recognizing the lip twist as an indicator of a (perhaps sour) private memory being relived. "Wanna talk about it?," he offers awkwardly, trying not to pry but be polite at the same time.

"Ah Rhasmir, ever the child! He's the wriggle in every puppy, the gleam in every eye." Thea shakes her head with a bit of a laugh. "He's contagious, I suppose." She listens to Sigam's reasoning ramble and finally the question. She shrugs, turns her head to watch the rain fall with a soft frown, "Not really. Some of us don't like it, others don't care. I mean proddy happens, half the Weyr follows as though it were the best of jokes, they have a laugh, talk for a few days…" Her voice trails off before she adds with a shrug, "Everyone has something in their life that's beyond their own control. Being drunk isn't really one of those things." For a moment longer her face has that somber cast to it, but then she is turning back to peer at Sigam with a gleam of mischief in her eyes and a laugh in her voice, "You didn't really kiss the Weyrwoman."

"He's something, alright. Not at all sure that he deserves such poetic terms, but yes, he is most captivating." Sigam's quiet laughter bubbles up from his chest, head shaking to or fro before he buries it in his hands. It might seem as if he's not listening, but eventually a finger parts from its companions on the side closest to Thea, allowing one eye to peek out solemnly. "That actually sounds vastly irritating," he says, palms shifting to prop up his chin. "But a weyr is good for gossip, if nothing else." Nose scrunch. "I can only imagine the ones that've been circulating about me. Shards, I can't believe I did that. I'm sorry about all that, either way. I promise to give the next person I hear joking about it a swift kick to the arse." He winks and subconsciously wipes at his lips, eyes following hers out into the rainfall. "You're right, though. I have no intentions of doing that anytime soon - I'm too old. I can't begin to /tell/ you the places I hurt the next day." The Dragonhealer's face almost makes it to 'amused,' but is frozen solid somewhere in between, eyes searching her face, curiosity, giddy relief, and a touch of age-old skepticism lingering in their depths. "Come again?"

"Well, you didn't offend me, truthfully. So no worries there." Thea admits with a smile, "Just, you know - either indulge and leave go the results or don't and retain your dignity." Again the shrug, "Faranth knows we have plenty here who will join you in the first endeavor." She pauses, a considering in her next words, "Come to think of it, I wonder why Cenlia and Rhasmir haven't found each other yet. She's a one for jumping into drunken recklessness headfirst." The last bit an aside of explanation for Sigam. Then she's watching that play of expressions on his face and trying not to snicker as she admits, "I was, ah, pulling your leg. You didn't really kiss Niva." She gestures with a hand at his face in general, "Feel any bruises? Lumps? No, huh." She shakes her head slightly, "If you had, she likely would have left some evidence behind."

"If I didn't know better," Sigam drawls slyly, a crooked smile lacing his features, "I'd say you were teaching me a lesson, Miss Thea." One of his arms shifts a bit, as if he's about to lean over and tweak her nose like he used to with his sisters back home, but seems to think better of it and cooly reaches up to fluff his rain-matted hair. Suave cover, oh yeah! "Oh, I'm sure, but I rather like that word now that you mention it - dignity." He straightens his spine, throws back his shoulders, lifts his chin, and affects the loftiest facial expression a bad actor like himself can. "Sigam the Dignified! Turning over a new leaf." He can't maintain the pose for long though, and with a chuckle, he shifts back into his previous hunch. "That's a good point though. Second she's allowed to drink, we should introduce them," he smirks, eyebrows waggling. "Just you be sure to hold me back." Relief becomes the dominant expression on the man's face, but a somewhat delirious chuckle is delt out for her to enjoy. "You are one sick puppy, my friend. I've apparently let my guard too far down around you - something I'll remedy immediately, of course." Nod, nod, chuckle. "You know, I was wondering about that, but I figured I'd gotten lucky or fell over before she could deck me right proper… Shards! I can't believe that you- And I- Jeez." Eloquent, isn't he?

Morlanol wanders slowly into the forest clearing, Agate and Bloodstone curled up on his shoulders trying to avoid the worst of the rain. A tiny green fire lizard head peeks out from his front pocket, flopping limply in sleep, though he's doing his best to move softly. He waves to Thea and Sigam, moving towards them and glad for the shelter Seryth offers as he draws closer, "H'lo Thea, Sigam. How've yer evenin's been?" He's got his usually cheeky grin on his face, though his steps are somewhat tired.

Thea laughs as Sigam proclaims himself a new man, attempting to duck that hair-fluffing hand, "Oh, no, not me. I'm not a teacher nor am I your mama. You'll have to be doing your own restraining, if indeed that's what you want." She's got a hand up to stave off having the position bestowed upon her. "Poor Rhasmir won't know what to do with himself." She's shaking her head at Sigam's next words, lips curving in amusement, "No, really, she never came through the Caverns. Your dignity is intact." At least as far at the Weyrwoman is concerned, she could say, but doesn't. The sound of slogging through wet ground draws her eye and she spies Morlanol drawing up under the curve of Seryth's still-extended wings, "Out to enjoy the weather too, are you boy?" She pats Seryth's leg again, "Come sit out of the rain." She leans forward to peer at Morlanol's pocket. "Hello, what's this?"

"Oh, you. You know what I meant," Sigam chortles, tongue peeking out from behind his lips in a petulant gesture. "I wouldn't ask you to really hold me back - I don't think you're strong enough for that." He gives her a playful once-over, head shaking a firm 'no.' "Definitely not," he teases, eyes dancing. "Yeah, shells. Having a girl maybe out-drink him? Purely flabberghasted!" His eyes go distant for a second as he runs the hypothetical situation in his head, a lazy smile creeping up on his face. Thea's words pull him back to Pern. "Ah, good. At least I have my dignity. Faranth knows the second I lose that, I'm a gonner. Nothing else's useful about me besides these." He raises his hands before them and wriggles the fingers until the squelch of approaching footsteps draws his attention, too. "Morlanol? What're you doing out here?," he grins, tilting a wave at the candidate and his firelizards. Wait, did he have a new one? Thea beats him to inquiring about it, though, so the Dragonhealer simply reclines onto his hands on the great gold's forearm.

Morlanol grins, stroking the little green head softly, "Tourmaline… Jess had a couple eggs wha' jus' hatched 'n' I'm no' quite ready t' go t' bed yet. Hatchin's always wake m' up." He maneuvers, gladly taking Thea's offer of a seat on Seryth's feet, giving Seryth a thank-you scritch as he does so. He cocks his head to the side, a lightly confused look when Sigam mentions a girl out-drinking someone, "Y' talkin' 'bou' Cen? Can' think o' any other girl says she c'n drink anyone under."

Thea leans forward, legs swinging as they hang off the side of Seryth's foreleg as she watches Morlanol find a seat. Seryth herself is quiet, unmoving save for once when her head turns briefly in the direction where the Candidate's Barracks is. Thea gives her a sympathetic pat but doesn't comment. She tilts her head to the side as she answers Sigam, exaggerated relief in her words, "Good, it's a thankless job around here, I'm thinking. Even if I could enlist Muscles here help." Again her hand pats the golden hide she's perched on. Morlanol's comment has her chuckling softly, "Poor Cen, famous for that, she is. Wonder if she drinks Rhasmir under, does he have to marry her then? Better him than Kire." Then she's reaching a hand out to offer the tiny green a light touch with one fingertip. "Lovely color to her. Tourmaline, huh?" An approving smile flickers on her lips, "Aptly named for a miner's 'lizard." Her hand drops back to her lap, if one were observant, they'd see the wheels turning as she appears to study the lad. For a moment the only sound to be heard is the myriad ticks and plops of rain hitting Seryth's wingsails above them. "So, did you find a partner for that dance class, Morlanol?"

Sigam, for his part, gets lost in the pattering of the rain, whose relentless song seems to have finally managed to lull him into a state of quiet after his earlier barrage on its puddles. If he noticed Seryth's movement, he doesn't show it, but there is perhaps a humorous twinkle catching somewhere in his eyes. When he finally answers Thea, his voice seems somewhat distant, as if slogging through molasses to reach her. "Which is - being a teacher or a mother?" The line is delivered almost monotonously, but he looks her way too, lips quirking into a smile. "Now, toss Seryth into the mix and I might be frightened." He glances up just once in appreciation for the gold before sliding a pleasant look Morlanol's way. "Tourmaline, eh? Very pretty name. I should've brought Calelir along with me, but he was all warm and cozy - very opposite of out here." He nods and grins when the former miner mentions Cenlia. "That's the one. I- Well. You know. If she does, he'd probably propose out of sheer awe, no prompting necessary." His laugh is rich as he considers the prospects. "Kire, huh? Never would'a figured on that. Hm." Sigam, now completely suspicious on the inside of all of the goldrider's motives, is observant indeed, and is learning to recognize that glimmer in the weyrwoman's eyes as her 'devious plotting' look. It seems much more amusing when he's not on the receiving end, so he joins in, hiking his eyebrows up into his hairline with dramatic overinterest. "Dance class? Oh, do tell."

Morlanol grins wider, but there's a light blush behind it, "I… I thin' she sai' th' guy had t' drink her under, no' th' other way roun'." He scratches the back of his head, glancing up at Seryth momentarily before nodding when Thea mentions Tourmaline's color, "Yeah, looks kinda like someone traced leaves on 'er, 'tis really beau'ful." Agate gives Thea a chirp and extends his head for attention, even as Bloodstone does the same to Sigam. His blush deepens as he's asked yet again about the dance, "I.. uh… well… I figgered I'd jus' see who shows up… I mean… I don' wanna 'barras no one or be 'barassed…" He scratches the back of his head again, trailing off. After a few moments she turns to Sigam, "She sai' she'd never marry Kire… didn' catch why…" Still blushing… definitely blushing…

"Both are and I'm not ready for either one!" Though it's said emphatically enough, Thea's gaze is turned towards where Seryth's was a moment ago, her lips are sad for a moment before she turns back to Sigam with an absent, "Hmm? Oh, ha! Yeah watch out for the teeth especially." It's a weak attempt at humor before Sigam's comment on Rhasmir has her chortling. "Sheer awe! I love it." Morlanol's got her attention then and she waves a hand, confused as well, "All I remember is drinking was involved. But then with her, it always is." Cue grin. Instead of needling the blushing candidate, she merely nods, "You can do that. At least you won't have to worry about dancing with or kissing any of the aunites this time." Oh, wait. Was that needling? It was!

Sigam's grin for Thea borders on vicious and is accompanied by a swift laugh and a shake of his head. "I don't blame you, nor can I picture you doing them any time soon," he concedes, hands patting the air in a 'don't shoot!' gesture. He catches the slightly downcast mood on her face, his own sobering for a moment, but it doesn't seem the time nor place to ask again. "Geh, teeth. As if I could forget those! I've been on the receiving end of too many threats to bite some vital appendage off to ever take /those/ lightly." His smile is genuine when he finally gets her to laugh. "You know it's true? His eyes'd go all glassy and adoring, jaw open up wide, and in that awful accent he'd be all 'Ah shards. I been out-drank… Yer th'one! Marry me!'" Sigam pauses, considers something, nods. "And then he'd get decked to the floor." Snickering, he glances over at Morlanol. "She doesn't seem like she'd be one to be tied down that easy," he comments, eyeing the boy with a dangerous quality, lips rising in a feral grin as he turns to Thea. "How about, any poor sucker that can't find a partner has to dance with /me./" His gaze flicks only once towards the boy before refocusing on her. "I say embarrassing things, I'm a man, for those of them that're lads as well, and I step on toes. Quite the triple-threat, I know." Somewhere back on Earth, Simon is rolling in his grave.

Morlanol continues to blush, his lips pulling into an odd grin, "Considerin' wha' happened las' time, I wouldn' recommend anyone ge' too cozy with Cen wi'out her permission…" He trails off, a look of remembered pain flitting across his face now. At the mention of aunties he coughs, "Yeah, don' wanna be forced through tha' again…" After a few beats he starts to giggle at Sigam's impression of a drunken proposal, then nods, "Yeah… I don' think she cares much abou' relationships jus' now… seems t' mos'ly like her shovel…" He grimaces softly, "I don' think i's fair t' make th' can'dates ask each other t' dance class… seems silly t' me. An' I doub' you'll be any worse'n me… considerin' th' secon' time I saw Thea I ran into a pillar, then go' knocked inta it by a rampagin' horse…" He trails off, another grimace of pain crossing his face briefly as he rubs his head.

Thea's eyes are swift to return to Sigam as he speaks of teeth. Her brows raise as she echoes him, "Too many threats? That sounds interesting, do tell?" But then he is pantomiming poor Rhasmir's marriage proposal. "With a shovel," Thea adds to Sigam's account, a tiny grin replacing the sober expression on her face. "She's almost as fond of shovels as she is booze." As to the dire consequence of having Sigam as a dance partner she advises the lad, "I'd start asking around, if I was you. Consider it training on getting tough." Or something. Morlanol gets a look of profound sympathy as he speaks of Cenlia, to Sigam she explains as if it's a really sweet thing, "Aw, he's reminiscing about his first kiss." Then to the boy, "Just be thankful she didn't deck you with a shovel, Morlanol."

"Oh yes," Sigam nods, a look of supreme 'cross-my-heart' honor on his face. "The badge over here isn't just for show. Know how dragons don't often broadcast to anyone but their lifemates? I've had a brown threaten to remove my manbits so loud that Mellonath - Madame Ethne's gold - heard it halfway across the weyr and had to come rescue me. That was fun." Whether or not that last bit's sarcastic doesn't seem to matter - his eyes are lit up like a child's at Christmas with the memory regardless. He snickers and lightly applauds Thea's acting out of the scene, nodding in deep approval. "Yes, that's exactly it! What is it with that girl and shovels anyways?" He shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "I dunno. I think it's perfectly reasonable. See, watch." He turns almost formally to Thea, trying to battle down a wicked smile. "Thea, would you honor me with a dance at dance class?" Without really waiting for an answer, he leans back on Seryth's leg. "See? Simple. And if she says no, knock her out and drag her there anyways." He's joking, he's joking! "Awww, is he? That's super cute." Taking the cue, the man drops a limp hand over his heart, eyelashes fluttering. "Yeah. That doesn't sound happy no matter how you toss the dice.

Morlanol grins, blushing slightly, "Don' think it coun's since she didn' kiss back… an' I think she'd left her shovel ou'side…" He thinks for a second, "I know Tali's goin' with Ro an' I thnk Ruzel asked Kez… and Jess said she wasn' gonna go with anyone.." The look he turns on Sigam is downright skeptical, "Ro bribed Tali… an' I don' talk like tha' even when I'm talkin' t' a queen or a master crafter." His face settles into a downright glower, which really only succeeds at making him look cuter with his child-like face, "Y' don' wanna know…"

"Hmm, patients don't always appreciate the pain involved with their treatments, I take it." Thea muses. "Good thing for you that Mellonath was monitoring the situation, hm?" She shakes her head, denying knowledge of the Gardener's thing for shovels, then snorts at Sigam's faux invitation, choking back a laugh as he adds dragging the unfortunate to the dance, "Better pick a small, timid gal, Morlanol if you'll be dragging her." She's thoughtful for a moment, "You don't have to do fancy talk, you could write her a note?" The lad's growl has her rubbing her mouth suddenly in an attempt to hide a smile, laughing eyes turn towards Sigam, "His kiss involved an ice pack." There's a letup in the rain, a gradual slowing to the patter. Thea leans out to eye the sky. "Well, I'm off. The office is calling." She slides down to land with a splish. "See you two." She starts off, but Seryth has the courtesy to not dump the others into the mud. She waits patiently for them to stand.

"Not at all," Sigam agrees, head switching from side to side. "Lady luck smiled on me that day." Patient eyes are turned towards the miner lad, eyebrows raising in a most patronizing manner. "The answer is obvious - knock Jess out." This contradicts quite heavily with the goldrider's more noble and reasonable advice, but Sigam seems to find it quite an amusing mental image anyways. "Ro, bribe Tali? Shards, boy, have you seen the two of them together? Bribe my foot." He seems to think it's all an act! The plot thickens! "That's a shame, though. Queens and Masters deserve your respect. I always show mine the proper amount of humility." He eyes Thea out of the corner of his eye. "Well, except her." He ducks instinctively, pulling away from Seryth's arm. "Still, ice pack, ouch. Poor kid. Better luck next time?" His laugh is jeering, but his eyes are somewhat sympathetic - he's probably been beaten over kisses before, too. "A working woman never sleeps," Sigam sighs, giving Thea a pat on the shoulder if she'll allow it. "Thanks for the shelter, Seryth. See you Thea - thanks for the chat." He backs away a few steps, giving the gold room to maneuver before sighing in general contentedness. "Well. We'd better get along before it starts raining again, wouldn't you say, lad?" And without another word, he heads off into the hazy spring mist.

Morlanol stands, stretching slightly, his two not-asleep flits re-settling themselves as tiny as possible against the rain, "Thanks fer th' 'vice… 'n' th' shelter" He glances up at Seryth, clearly aiming that last sentiment at her. An' I don' inten' t' make someone dance with me if'n they don' wanta. Coul' ask someone… we'll see." He glances around, then pulls the collar of his jacket up as far as he can to protect him and his babies from the rains and makes a dash for the barracks, calling back, "Seeya again soon!"

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