Cookie Queens

Xanadu Weyr - Kitchens
The kitchen is large and well-stocked with technology as well as those with culinary skill. State of the art equipment has been brought in from the various crafts to be used - stoves and large ovens replacing the hearths that used to be in here. Three baking ovens are usually going full bore half the day, from early morning through to mid-afternoon. Large windows take up the entire of the western wall, generally open wide to the mountainous landscape beyond allowing the cool breezes in to keep the kitchen's temperature to a desirable level.
Tables, cabinets, and counters take up the remaining spaces and walls. Various spices, herbs, and other foodstuffs are found here, and what's not ready at hand is tucked away back in the storage caverns or the massive cold-room large enough to walk inside.
The night hearth beside the door to the main caverns has been kept out of a sense of nostalgia, but the smaller stove set beside it is what's actually used to prepare late-night food. This is where you find late night meals of stew and soup simmering in pots, and pitchers of klah and tea in their electric units to be kept warm.

It is, it can be said, an irresponsibly late hour that finds R'hyn in the kitchens. Though the space is empty at present, save his oversized form propped up against the warmth of the hearth, it's obvious someone has been by, and recently. A plate of buns and cookies and a positively enormous mug of something clear that one hopes is water has been sat beside him, a frilly yarny thing that's probably meant to be a table cozy pulled over his shoulders. He finds this enormously funny, and has taken to pushing his fingers through loose spots in the crochet and giggling ridiculously at the result. A gold firelizard pops from between, fluttering down to perch on the back of a nearby stool, crooning VERY JUDGMENTALLY, for being as small as she is. Rude.

Irresponsible could be Rhodelia's middle name. If she had one. Or a last one to make something a middle. Midnight trips anywhere have become a bit of a habit so she's prepared with shaded glow basket and her extra quiet slippers as she sneaks and sneak and… so the light makes the whole thing less sneaky once it turns a corner to fall on R'hyn's plate of buns. There's a little frown on her face when she spots the bronzerider, not for his actual personage though. She's got bigger concerns. "I hope those weren't the last ones."

"Or what?" comes a rasp from behind Rhodelia — something more akin to a growl than actual language but ILA'DEN CANNOT HELP IT, YOU GUYS. He was born this way. "Are you going to take him?" And around Rhody the older bronzerider steps, to look at his frilly-yarny bedressed weyrhusband with a raise of brows and a slow, sideways tug of his lips at whatever it is that he finds there amid giggles and holes being scandalized by Heryn's fingers. "I'm telling Cita you were doing this while saying her name." SCANDAL. HORROR. SHAME. ANd then that lone grey eye is blinking back to Rhodelia as Ila'den settles onto his knees in front of R'hyn. "Now is your chance to steal one." A bun, he means. Or a cookie. OR BOTH? WHY NOT BOTH.

Look, V'ayn does /not/ spend all of his time in the kitchens. He has a weyr and everything…well not everything, he is missing something which is why the man arrives in the middle of the night with N'on by his side. He is here for some very important ingredients for some hare-brained dessert he will hopefully not kill someone with. "I am pretty sure that I saw it in the back right corner…" His words precede his arrival by just seconds and then fade away abruptly at the scene before his eyes. One corner of his lips quirks upwards in an amused smirk at the crochet thingy and then he looks around, "I believe we've arrived fashionably late to the midnight party." Because that's totally what this is, right? A party.

N'on spends as little time as possible in the kitchens, if we're being entirely honest. But it's hard to avoid them completely when you're weyrmates with a baker. He /could/ have probably prevented this trip by making sure V'ayn's kitchen was properly stocked, but details shmetails. Besides, who can predict what rare ingredient V'ayn will decide he MUST HAVE for a new experiment? Not this guy! He's starting to sign something as they walk in, but he abruptly shoves his hand into his pocket whne he realizes they're not alone. He wasn't expecting a party, and when V'ayn names it as such, the greenrider kind of subtly sidesteps to stand half-behind the baker.

So sneaky, right until R'hyn puts Rhodelia on BLAST. "*Hiiiiiiiii*," is issued in a very loud whisper, the kind that speaks to a person that was probably shouting before, and has been recently admonished. He tries to wave at her, but seems to have forgotten that his fingers are very much bound up in crochet, the end result being that he sort of… drags his hands back and forth in the air, floppy and intermittent. It works. Her inquiry greatly puzzles Heryn, whose frown goes much deeper than hers as he leans sloppily to look down at his plate. A beat. Two. Then: "Yyyyep." BEAM. But then it doesn't matter, because he's back to muppet-flailing as the room is filled with, "Friends!" So much for whispering. "If I say Cita's name enough will she come here, do you think?," asked brightly of the bronzerider that kneels before him, giving Rhody all the opportunity in the world to act a thief as he leans in to rest one cheek on Ila's shoulder. SMELLS LIKE STABILITY, which he very much needs as he aims a wild giggle up at V'ayn. "Been partying all night, where you been?" He perks when N'on steps halfways behind the baker, a bloodhound on the scent of someone that doesn't want attention and is about to find themselves on the receiving end of a lot of it. "Hi. I'm a princess." Cue a clasp of frilly hands just under his chin. Facepalm.

Rhodelia lets out a mighty EEEEEP as suddenly there's the raspy growl from behind, which might be the only appropriate response to sudden Ila'den sightings. She skirts a bit to the side so she can keep an eye on both the bronzeriders and then a THIRD BRONZERIDER appears and she blinks. "Did I miss a memo or something?" Probably, but she was being rhetorical mostly this time. She's definitely not dressed for a party unless it's a pajama party in her oversized flannel jammies and pink bunny slippers. And while Princess R'hyn is busy drunkenly leaning on his weyrmate, Rhody is totally gonna help herself to a bun and a cookie cause she's a grab life with both hands type gal, even if it does mean having to awkwardly try and hold the glow basket in the crook of her arm.

ONE OF THE THREE BRONZERIDERS IN THE ROOM IS NOT PRONE TO KINDNESS. Go ahead and take a wild stab in the dark at which one you think that might — Ila. It's Ila'den. He's the one. It's why the moment V'ayn and N'on also shimmy-shake-shamble their way into the kitchens (which is, for all intents and purposes, PUBLIC SPACE), he is the exact opposite of his own weyrmate. Yes, okay, so R'hyn is a couple of sheets to the wind, but even if he wasn't, the simple fact that R'hyn is the personable one and Ila'den Is Not would not change. Oh, Ila'den smiles at them alright, but it's more akin to a wolf spotting prey, something predatory and feral and unkind in the way that single grey eye watches every movement with canines bared right up until Rhodelia makes a fatal mistake. RHODY, IT'S A TRAP!!!! And Ila'den's attention breaks away from incoming party-people to Weyrwoman's assistant the moment she's in their space. One hand comes up to run through his weyrhusband's hair, but the other hand is catching at Rhodelia's wrist and JERKING HER SIDEWAYS. RIGHT INTO HIMSELF AND R'HYN. And he's laughing about it, so much husky, rumbling, low-pitched laughter because he's a terrible man and there are zero apologies to be found. ONLY NOW DOES HE ACTUALLY ACKNOWLEDGE V'AYN with a raspy, "I believe you're right on time."

"Someone had to bake all these things while you partied, princess," V'ayn replies with a slight smirk. He did /not/ bake either of those things but hey, he's playing along! His blue-green gaze shifts sideways then, settling on the somewhat retreated N'on. Immediately fingers move to catch the other man's hand and he plans to venture /further/ into the kitchen when Ila'den is all /scary smile/ and /Rhody stealing/. "You're throwing a party of the adult nature, Rhody?" Not that this looks like it was her idea. There's a slight furrow in the baker's brow but he doesn't look like he's going to step in and save the poor damsel though. He /might/ try and steal a cookie while everyone is distracted though. MAYBE.

N'on does the owl-blink at R'hyn. It's a hot new dance craze and it goes like this: You stand perfectly still and just blink your eyes slowly. It's popular because anyone can do it, see? *blink blink* He starts to lift his hand to sign something, then stops again as his attention is distracted by /Ila'den/. If N'on was a cat, he would hiss. But he's just a boring old human, so his eyes narrow, and he starts to retreat again… only to have his hand captured, which puts a stop to any thoughts of sacrificing his weyrmate in order to esc— I MEAN NO, HE WAS ALWAYS GOING TO STAY BY YOUR SIDE, SILLY V'AYN.

R'hyn is undeterred. By what? Everything. Every single thing. Rhody's than complementary appearance, Ila'den's feral nature, N'on's freaky-deaky dance moves, V'ayn's gentle frown - all. He's a creature comprised of sunbright grins and tipsy laughter, struggling to extract fingers from the depths of twisty yarn just in time to receive a deposit of one (1) Rhodelia that his weyrmate tugs into them, and, well… Grab life with both hands? R'hyn doesn't mind if he does. "Squishy~squishy," the bronzer titters as he reaches around the assistant's side and honka-honkas her slippers, and if V'ayn or anybody else had any bright ideas about how this was about to go, welp. "Now you're the princess," R'hyn coos, because if he's gonna share his snacks, he's also gonna share is oversized doily, fluffing it outwards dramatically and draping Rhodelia with it, if she lets him. Only then does he tilt his chin at V'ayn and N'on again, as though the former's words have only just settled into his brain. "Wait. Wait wait wait wait. Wait wait wait. You did this?" He holds up a roll like it's SIMBA, hopefully not blonking Rhody or Ila or both as he does it. No promises. "You're amazing." Oh boy. Are we already at the lip-wibbling, I-love-you-stranger-I-just-met portion of the night? We sure are. "Did you do this too?" He moves to point the bun at N'on, dazzles in his eyes, as if his very happiness hangs on the greenrider's answer. Because irony.

THAT WAS HER HAND WITH THE STICKY BUN, ILA! And seeing as Rhody's face was attach to said sticky bun while right when he grabs, she gets pulled along with her wrist, letting out a bit of a growl of her own at the process. Less wolf like and more slightly perturbed kitten. She is only human so not everything can be held on to. The least important is clearly the glowbasket which is allowed to drop to the ground and a few of glows manage to escape. She can blink with the best of them and gives her own owl-ly blink back and N'on as she chomps her way through what remains of her bun, no effort to really escape her entrapment mostly because now that she's done with that snack, she reaches over to try and steal another from R'hyn's platter! As for V'ayn, he gets a wink. "I only throw the best parties." Said so regally with her now-princess-cape as she narrowly avoids being bonked by a wayward bun.

Imagine riding a bike, single handedly, in the dark, being the co-hoarder of all the cookies and rolls currently left in Xanadu Weyr and conspiring to make sure that every single stranger (some quasi, some fully-danger) in the room hates you. That is how an Ila do. Now imagine your weyrhusband squandering all of your badassery by being this damn cute and blonking you with his best Rafiki impression to present SIMBA, THE ROLL KING. That is how a R'hyn do. And Ila'den, where he could be offended, or look somewhat apologetic for V'ayn's reaction or N'on's almost retreat does neither. He reaches out to help settle Rhodelia's doily-cape around her shoulders, rumbles a, "All hail the Queen," to pledge his allegiance, and then he picks up a cookie to extend it towards V'ayn and N'on with brows slowly raised. "Heryn is holding a feast in her honor." All dry tones, all deadpan, but as much of an offer (or proverbial olive branch) as they are going to get from this particular breed of Rude.

Serves V'ayn right for claiming other people's baking as his own, even if in jest. "You know….you know I think I may have been mistaken I made that /other/ batch of buns. They're off in the back and we can fetch those for your royal highnesses momentarily….only the best treats for the /best/ party." See? Definitely playing along. But also he wants to go over to the storage so he can get his ingredients. Deeper into the belly of the beast N'on, there is /no escape/. Just…one sep…two step…and there are offerings. "Would this be considered a near death experience?" Words murmured just for N'on before long fingers are gingerly plucking the cookie from the bronze rider's fingers and taking a bite. "Thank you, we would love to join the…feast." Look, he can't help himself, there are cookies and he wants to know if his taste better (because ego).

N'on would answer that question, but he doesn't, because his hand is claimed. RUDE. Instead, he just gives V'ayn an ironic side-eyed and makes a 'no' gesture with his free hand. The sign is a bit abstract, but his expression of mild amusement probably says enough. And since V'ayn has already spoken for him, he goes along with it, only a /trace/ of reluctance in his smile as he self-consciously takes a cookie. Does he enjoy it? Probably! You'll never know otherwise because he'll never tell!

R'hyn gasps because, "That. Was. Adorable." If he could make heart-eyes at Rhody for that kitten-esque growl, he would, general jubilant ecstasy perhaps explaining a lot about just what a perky dude like him is doing aligning himself with a man like Ila'den. Though he has yet to lower the bun he's holding aloft, he does withdraw one hand, aiming to pat-pat the assistant on the head as he lets her make off with more of his snacks, offering her a warm, "You earned that." Ila'den's solemn proclamations has him laughing again, doing what Ryns do best and making a mess of his weyrmate's attempts to be rough, tough, and buff. "Aww haiw da kween. Hewwyn is howding a feets in hew hawewwwr." He absolutely does pronounce the 'h' in honor as he finally drops the bun to smudge it all over Ila's cheek in time with his mockery. "Hehe. Get it. Feets. Cause I squished her slippers." Hooboy. It's probably time he gets taken home, before he can— "Other buns?!" Too late. Struggling, the bronzer tries to extricate himself from where he's slouched against maybe-Rhody, maybe-Ila'den, somehow, someway getting to his feet so he can take V'ayn and Non's combined hands in both of his own and badly whisper, "Take me. Take me to this magic bun land." Good grief.

As good as it is to be the Queen, Rhodelia is slowly backing away from the group (and not just because of head pat-pats). All the better to clear her throat and give her proclamation. "Hear ye, Hear ye… I do proclaim it time to … to… BE MERRY OR SOMETHING!" She gives a very firm nod as if that's good enough. "But I gotta go to the little lady's room. V'ayn, you're the Queen now." She dubs him with her queenly powers which means she hastily tosses the blanket towards him. Whether it makes it or not is a whole other matter as she's not sticking around to turn out. Amazing how quickly those bunny slippers can fly. Rhody out!

TOTALLY COUNTS. DON'T LET R'HYN FOOL YOU. THIS MAN RIGHT HERE IS A CERTIFIED FACEBREAKER. BETTER DUCK! LEIRITH TOLD HIM HE WAS A BADASS ONCE. SHUT UP. IT COUNTS. AND NOBODY CAN TAKE IT BACK!!!! Not even you, Heryn with the Terrible Accent. Or YOU, Rhody, with that princess bunny-slipper-escape cutes that Ila'den watches because he might be a Terrible Man, but he's also one of the kinds of Terrible Men that likes to make sure people don't DIE on their way out of a room. So he sees V'ayn become the next in line to receive what was once R'hyn finest of heritages, which means he's also the next in line to inherit exactly one plate of food stuff. "I'll trade you," comes that husky, rasping burr in tandem with the creak and shift of leathers as Ila'den moves to stand and favors one of his legs for just a moment as he moves himself to stand before R'hyn and N'on and V'ayn's joined hands and pulls his weyrmate's away from theirs. That plate is deposited in his stead, and Ila'den's focus instantaneously fixates back on the once-weyrleader, now former princess. "All I heard was take me," comes with a hint of amusement and JUST LIKE THAT, THAT'S IT. IT'S GAME OVER. R'HYN KNOWS WHAT'S COMING and Ila'den executes it with finesse, hauling six-and-an-almost-half feet of drunken, giddy bronzerider onto his shoulder in a fireman carry before he pauses and allows that lone grey eye to jump between what remains of their midnight party. And there, there's a mock salute, another wolfish grin, and an, "Gentlemen. Your… ah… highness. If you will excuse us," and off he goes, ONWARD. TOWARDS HOME. HI-HO SILVER, ETC. PROBABLY.

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