This Isn't Awkward At All

Xanadu Weyr - Hot Springs
The warmth that flows from this cavern is almost overwhelming for some, the steam rising from the shimmering pools as thick as the morning fog that rolls in off the ocean. Numerous pools are scattered here and there with ribboned walls that are natural in their construction. The water has a somewhat green cast to it, but it is merely a reflection from the ethereal light which is the glow down here that was so noticeable from the tunnel leading here. People can often be found down here washing themselves or just relaxing.
Situated along the walls are various racks covered in fresh towels ready for those who step out of the warm waters. A set of shelves have been installed towards the back wall, allowing people a place to put their belongings while they rest in the pools, and despite the white color that these have been painted, they are cast with that eerie green glow. Then, it's obvious. The ceiling of this cavern is covered in the fluorescent phosphorous matter that glows are made off. The mossy substance almost glitters and appears quite lovely.
A sloped tunnel leads back to the main caverns, a single branch carved out along it to detour down into the laundry room. It allows the passage of people, but even more importantly, it allows for metal pipes wrapped with insulation that run along the ceiling to carry heated water back and forth to where it's needed.

Who's ready to rumbbleeeeeeeeeeee? Not Sylvarin. He's here to soak in the warm waters and enjoy a good scrub while plotting revenge. That could be a form of rumbling? Who knows! In any case, the baker is very quick to shed his clothes and slip into the water armed with more soap sand than anyone /really/ needs. But hey, the dude likes it, okay? And if someone looks /really/ closely they might be able to tell he brought his own /special/ soap sand that's got a lovely fragrance of mahogany mixed with rose. (He just likes the finger things in life alright??). There's a long sigh as he relaxes against the side of the springs, head tilting upwards as eyes close. His parma-knitted brows seem to actually unwind a bit because hot springs are great you see? So relaxing and peaceful!

Nessalyn isn't really a hot springs sort of gal. Luxuriating in anything other than sugar-based concoctions. isn't so much in her wheelhouse, but every so often one needs to bathe for the sake of not smelling disgusting, and so here she is. The engineer emerges from the steam all bundled up in a towel. Though her hair is still bound up in its usual messy bun, all the tools and bits and bobs have been removed in preparation for bathing. She scours the edge of the pools, looking for a dry spot upon which to settle herself. Ah-hah! Sylvarin's pool proves to be the one, as she perches herself on the edge and dangles her bare legs into the pool. A quick check of her towel assures that it's securely in place — and maybe she surreptitiously scans for Taeli as well, just in case. But the threat of having her towel ripped off doesn't seem to be imminent, so she instead breaks the peace with, "You don't happen to have any waterproof desserts with you, do you?"

At the sound of a voice Sylvarin opens one eye, though ti takes him a moment to actually pin it down to a familiar face. Mostly because he was drifting off in relaxation-land. Soon enough both eyes are open and there's a quiet chuckle escaping the baker's lips. "Waterproof dessert? Now wouldn't that be something…I guess as long as you don't actually dip it into the water there are some hard candies that might do the trick?" Something to consider. In fact, he loses himself for a brief second while all sorts of wheels start turning around in his head. So many possibilities! Once again though he'll drift back from his thoughts to the present and seems to /also/ scan the area for a Wild Taeli. "I don't /think/ that beast of a brat is around here." And honestly his words sound a /tad/ harsher than necessary. She /ruined/ his desserts, ok???

"Hard candies are barely dessert. Try again." She wants a waterproof cake, Sylvarin. MAKE IT HAPPEN. "You should make a floatig vessel that the dessert cooks in while it sits in the hot springs. Or that chocolate melts in or something." Blue eyes light up with the possibility of a floating dessert. She'd never leave the hot springs again. Reaching back with both hands, she undoes the tie around her hair, little the strands fall down to their full length, hitting her shoulderblades. "Which beast of a brat?" she questions, although her hand automatically goes back to her towel, JUST IN CASE. "There are a lot of them."

"A floating thing that cooks with the heat from the hot springs…." Sylvarin's lips purse slightly, brows knitting once more but only because he's thinking hard about this. "Now /that/ sounds like it could be a very good idea. The melted chocolate." And also very messy, but that's why this is something to work on! "I kind of wish I had my notebook right now…" Because those wheels keep on spinning. "Though I'd probably need you or the blacksmiths to help engineer a floatation device because honestly I wouldn't know where to start." He has go /zero/ experience in that area. As he talks, the baker reaches for some of the sand and starts scrubbing his shoulders because /aches/ and /pains/. Not really, he's externally young still! "The /head/ beast of the brats. If I paid you in desserts would you kick her in the face again? Or something similarly unpleasant?" Yeah, Mr. Gentleman-ish is kind of out the door when it comes to Taeli right now!

Nessalyn is full of good ideas! Which her player typo'd as 'food ideas', equally accurate. "Melted chocolate is always a good idea," she assures, as though there were any actual doubt about that fact. "I'm more the sort of engineer who'd make you an electronic device that opens on a timer, but I could probably figure out the floating thing. How hard can it be?" Spoiler alert: it's probably pretty damn hard. She kicks her feet a little in the water, staring down at the surface contemplatively. To get in, or just sit here awkwardly on the edge? "Oh, that head beast of the brats." The list of people she has kicked in the face (lately) is pretty short. "Absolutely."

This is Risali, pretending she Didn't Hear That. She didn't hear bribes to ensure somebody gets a boot in their face, and she definitely didn't hear the words, 'Beast,' or, 'Brat' in the same sentence. She heard nothing, nothing except for the sound of her own un-booted feet carrying her across the caverns to plotting journeyman, nothing but the sound of her settling to sit close to but not beside Nessalyn as her own legs find their way into the water. She is also in a towel with her hair up in a messy bun, because Risali has A LOT OF UNRULY HAIR when it's down and this is easier. "D'lei might be able to help with some kind of plans. He was a techcrafter Journeyman before he became a dragonrider." A beat, and a shift of her body. "Of course, I think his focus was on satellites, but he might be able to do something?" YEP, SHE'S RUDE, SHE JUST INVITED HERSELF INTO THIS CONVERSATION LIKE SHE BELONGS HERE. She also looks kind of far away, like she's not actually here with Sylvarin and Nessalyn mentally even if she is here physically. She's also moving a lot. Like, a lot. "Is it hot?" YES, RISALI. SCOOOT. Now she's beside Nessa, staring really hard at her towel. And… reaching out to grab a bit of the fabric between two fingers? "Oh… that feels really good." Which… might be why she is burying her face RIGHT INTO HER CHEST. IT'S FINE. SHE JUST KEEPS HER FACE PLANTED THERE AND MUMBLES SOMETHING THAT SOUNDS ALARMINGLY CONTENT. Run, Ness. We all know how you feel about contact.

"If you'd help out you'll of course have the honor of first taste-tester." Sylvarin grins over at Nessa, but that expression turns /far/ more sinister when she is voicing her openness to bribes. "In that case I have several ideas and several forms of dessert as paym…." Is that? Yup that is Risali and he just kind of trails off on the whole revenge thing. They were definitely /not/ just talking about physically beating someone up. Or other unpleasant things. "Evening." The dude has manners, mostly. THere's a tip of his head towards Risali but eyebrows raise slightly at all her fidgeting. But hey, maybe that's just /her/, he probably doesn't know any better. "A collaborative dessert between bakers and two tech crafters I like the sound o—" He likes the sound of cooking on his own spit because that is /exactly/ what he does when her head is suddenly buried into Nessa's chest. He is 100% ready for Weyr War Xanadu…only he's not. He's just kind of staring, mildly aghast, and with his mouth open just the slightest. And then this is him backing away. Yeah he's gonna stay on the far end of the pool to avoid anything that follows!

First taste-tester is a sort of dubious honor given the scheme at hand, but Nessalyn still looks positively thrilled by the prospect. Very little makes a genuine smile cross her face, but it's there now. "You've got a deal." She opens her mouth to admit that she'd actually considering kicking Taeli in the face for free after that stunt with the kids, but a wild Risali appears. "I'm not sure I'd trust D'lei, he's sent both the bartender and I to the infirmary…" That smile turns to more of a smirk as she twists the truth a little, because she's not losing the right to first taste-test. Perhaps Risali perching near her should be cause for concern, but initially she's given enough personal space that it doesn't seem an issue. Even with that wiggling and the scooting closer, Ness just sort of… leans away and doesn't think to escape until it's far too late. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" The panic is almost instantaneous as Risali buries her face in her chest, with Nessa shoving the woman as hard as she can. Depending on how tightly Risali is willing to hold on, it may send both of them tumbling into the water.

Listen, if D'lei is only sending you to the healers because YOU SET YOURSELF ON FIRE, you're doing it wrong. (BADUM, TSH) But you know who is doing things spectacularly wrong? Risali. She is doing things spectacularly wrong for a human, and while Sylvarin reminds of manners with his greeting, Risali murmurs, "Goo nnnvnn," from somewhere around Nessa's bust area. Which is probably, 'Good evening,' but then it doesn't matter because Sylvarin is doing the smart thing and Nessalyn is also doing the smart thing and shoving Risali as hard as she can. For what it's worth, Risa didn't really have a grip on the techcrafter, so there's nothing to hold onto when she does — SPLASH - go into the water. RUDE, NESSALYN. HOW DARE YOU PROTECT YOURSELF. And it takes, one, two, three moments for Risali to surface. But she's jittery, like she's had one too many cups of coffee and made sure 3/4ths of those cups were filled with a really nice whiskey. "Your towel," Risali offers on an inhale, hugging her own towel still close to her body. "It feels really good." BUT LOOK AT HER. She stays put at least, even if she is hyper-focused on that gosh darn towel. Okay, so she stays relatively still. She's bounding on her toes in the water but she's not coming closer is the point - not to Sylvarin or to Nessalyn. A beat, a scrunch of her nose and - "I shouldn't be in the hot water." But she can't remember why that's important. So she just… stays there. Staring. At Ness' towel.

D'lei is also getting the blame for sending people to the infirmary with swan-related injuries, regardless of his level of actual guilt. BUT STILL. Nessalyn is definitely doing it wrong in that sense, but she does feel vindicated when the too-friendly Risali goes tumbling and she's spared a similar fate. Her hands go immediately to check that her towel hasn't been yanked down to expose her chest or anything else, and only once that's secure does she scowl down at the water. She's utterly undisturbed by the fact that she just shoved the Weyrwoman into a pool and could potentially get into trouble for it, because RISALI DESERVED IT. "What is wrong with you?" How many times has she asked Risa that, now? Only this time she sounds less exasperated and more as though she genuinely thinks something is wrong. It's not quite concern that colors her voice, but it's close. "It's just a towel. You have one too." She gestures to said towel, soaked as it may be. The admittance that the goldrider shouldn't be in hot water causes Nessalyn to press fingertips to the bridge of her nose as she all but growls out, "Then get out of the water. And stop staring at my towel."

Sylvarin is doing /really/ well on this /other/ side of the pool /away/ from the towel snatching and Risali toppling into the water. He might even be looking over his shoulder as if leaving right now might be an option. But…his special ordered soap sand? Yeah, that's back over there and he'd have to go past two women to get to it. So instead he just stays /very/ very still. Maybe Nessa would just hand over the sand but…he's not going to push his luck right now. Instead he's going just stare at the two with wide eyes. There's a glance towards the towel in question and maybe he's about to ask something, but he doesn't. Nope, not worth the risk. Curiosity is /not/ killing the Sylvarin tonight.

DOING IT WRONG, NESS. ALL WRONG. But Risali's eyes do not leave that towel - not even for questions about what's wrong with her because the only thing wrong with her right now is that Nessalyn is being stingy with her towel. So Risali sits there, rocking on her heels, coveting fluffy goodness that is denied her, maybe hearing words about getting out and stopping her staring because while Risali doesn't get out, she is turning tooooooo… TOO LATE, SYLVARIN! THERE IS NO HOPE FOR YOU. Those grey eyes find him, and blink, and stare hard before she smiles - lopsided and faraway, a hiccup of a giggle escaping her as she moves her way through the water TO HIM, and reaches out to touch his hair if he doesn't run away fast enough. AND THEN SHE RUBS HER FACE IN IT, if he still hasn't run away from her. Or pushed her… further…? into the water. "Nesssssss. He feels so goooood. Come touch him." NOPE. NO ANSWERS ABOUT HER WEIRDNESS. MAYBE SHE JUST DRANK TOO MUCH, NESS.

RISALI ISN'T A T-REX, SYLVARIN. SHE CAN STILL SEE IF YOU IF YOU DON'T MOVE. Nessalyn grimaces as the goldrider just continues to stare at her towel, deeply unsettled by that weird focus. She should probably call someone to cart Risali away, except it's not really her responsibility to keep an eye on the other woman. As long as the goldrider isn't drowning (or touching her), she's off the hook. And then Sylvarin becomes the focus, and Nessa's grimace turns into a toothy grin, because HAHAHAHA SUCKER. "At least she only went for my towel," she comments, glancing down at said fluffy goodness. "I'm good, thanks. I'm just going to stay over here and imagine how good he feels." Her expression twitches. "Or whatever, you know. Not… really imagining that." Oh look, she might actually be blushing. Or maybe that's the heat of the hot springs.

"Oh fuck…" Sylvarin's green-blue eyes lock with those gray ones and the color /immediately/ drains from the baker's face. This is where that fight or flight response is /supposed/ to kick. Instead? He stands like a wher blinded by flashlights. It takes him a moment and he /tries/ to move, but guess what? It really /is/ too late. When those fingers touch his hair the baker's mouth just pops open again. He's attempting to speak words but there aren't any actual sounds coming from his mouth. And then her /face/ is in his hair and then it's even louder, "What the /fuck/." To be fair, his hair is freaking /awesome/ and wavy and nice and soft but it's /his/ hair. And now this is him trying to slooooowly move away from Risali. Maybe she won't notice? And then there are pleading eyes at Ness and if eyes could say 'WOMAN give me your towel..or /a/….please' that's /exactly/ what they would be saying. The poor guy is /trying/ and look at Nessa over there /snickering/. RUDE to the highest degree. And you know what? Maybe Risali /is/ a T-rex in human disguise. This is a technology Weyr, ANYTHING is possible. Not really. Probably more of an Indominus Rex, let's be honest. "For the record I feel /great/, Ness." A pause and he looks back to Risali again. "But you know what would feel even better? More /towels/. Yeah…warm, fluffy towels, freshly dried and smelling good…."

LAUGH IT UP, NESSALYN. LAUGH. IT. UP. "Yes you are," Risali happy-sighs from somewhere in Sylvarin's hair in response to Ness, and the baker might try to escape her, but the goldrider just ATTACHES HERSELF TO HIS PERSON, LIKE SOME KIND OF DERANGED MARSUPIAL WITH A HAIR FETISH. She just ignores all of the profanity being slung and echoing back through the caverns to her, rubbing cheeks, and jaw, and chin, and nose into hair, possibly strangling Sylvarin by way of ARMS. AROUND HIS NECK. AS SHE DOES IT. But she does hear that bit about towels, and will there's a murmur of agreement, there's another hiccup of laughter to go with it. "Mmmnooo." SHE WILL STAY HERE, THANK YOU. "Nessss." COME GET IN ON THIS GIRL. Or, you know… don't. WEYRMATE TO THE RESCUE. One of the boys is suddenly there, and it looks like it's K'vir this time, that too-tall body appearing with a string of soft curses that end on, "Risali," before he leans down to pull her off of Sylvarin. He fumbles with the towel and her for a moment, looks between the two, and then utters something that sounds like, "Sorry," or, "Excuse me," or both before he carts her RIGHT ON OUT, all while she nuzzles into his hair and Leirith booms, « MINION. HOW WILL SHE KNOW IF THEY ARE GOOD FOR MAKING BABIES IF SHE DOES NOT TEST THEIR SOFTNESS? » Yep. Happening.

NESSALYN ISN'T THE ONE BEING GROPED HERE, EVERYTHING IS GOOD. She does, for a moment, consider giving Sylvarin her towel. Or at least, she puts her hand upon the top edge of her towel as though she might pull it off and toss it to the man as a rescue, BUT NOPE. It's all a scam, because her lips quirk up in a smirk and she lets her hand fall away again moments later, towel still intact. "I'm sure you feel fantastic." And once it seems that Risali isn't going to detatch herself from Sylvarin to chase down that towel, she feels confident in adding, "Not half as great as this towel, though. But we can't have it all." Which is why she's making no move to join the goldrider — well, it's one of a multitude of reasons she's not joining in on this could-be threesome. But here's a weyrmate! "About time," she utters with a roll of her eyes, as someone has to yet again save Risali from herself. "We really need a dedicated weyrmate-summoning system…" She muses on that for a moment as she watches the goldrider being led out, still looking faintly bewildered by her behavior. At least until, "Making babies?" 1+1=2. "Oh. Oh."

"That's not what I…" Ok, Sylvarin /totally/ meant it because he's a little full of himself but that wasn't the /point/ of what he was saying. Ok, maybe it was…but he still doesn't want a /marsupial-woman/ attached to him and his precious precious hair! Especially when he can't /breathe/. "Please let go?" Dude is starting to turn a little red, whether it's from lack of oxygen or from the woman rubbing her /face/ all over his hair is completely unclear. But yeah, dude is /very/ red at this point. But thankfully Sylvarin's savior comes in the form of K'vir and don't worry he is not weeping with joy, but he looks /very/ grateful. There's a significant sigh of relief when the Weyrwoman finds someone else's hair to latch onto but his relief? Kind of short lived because he /totally/ forgot about Leirith for two seconds. And…now he won't ever again. He'll /always/ be wary of her booming voice when he so much as catches a glimpse of Risali. "For the record," he says to no one in particular but hopefully Risali is in hearing-distance because for /whatever/ reason the baker feels inclined to protect his manliness, "I would be /great/ for baby making too." Man, Taeli must have /really/ done a number on his self-confidence when she called his desserts /plain/ and then /smashed/ them. Or caused them to be smashed. And then things are…mostly quiet again and Sylvarin just /leans/ on the edge like a life support. "I need a vacation…a long vacation." Or just revenge. Something along those lines.

"I'm sure you'd be amazing for baby-making," Nessalyn assures, although there's something faintly mocking that hides just behind the appearance of sincerity. "And I'm sure I would be, too." Since Risali was so intently checking out her towel. That must mean she qualifies! "But I don't think either of us have what she needs for this particular form of baby-making. Thankfully." Now that her towel no longer needs to be defended (seriously, why does everyone try to take her towel from her?), Ness deftly undoes it, managing to slide into the water while exposing as little skin as possible. She goes for the totally normal soapsand, because she ain't fancy. "If you're going to take a vacation, I think now might be a good idea. I might take a few days, too." ESCAPE THE HORMONES WHILE YOU STILL CAN.

"Thanks for the very /sincere/ vote of confidence, I appreciate it." Sylvarin's voice drips with confidence but then again…he /was/ just literally shouting about his genes and baby making prowess for a dragon so…yeah, dude needs to regroup. He is supposed to be /calm/ and /cool/ and /broody/. Thanks a lot guys. THANKS a LOT. "I think I'm ok with not being equipped for that in the end." But he's still manly-ish, ok?! With a bit of calm back in the air he finally moves over to /his/ special soap sand and get to work on his hair. He needs to /scrub/ the hormones away because that is exactly how these things work. "Some hold is probably a safe bet, right?" Because surely she won't just be running around traumatizing the poor holders!

"You're welcome!" That voice sounds far too saccharine-sweet from Nessalyn's lips. The false cheer fades into her usual bland expression as she sets about to cleaning herself, scrubbing at her skin, perhaps trying to cleanse the memory of Risali groping at her precious towel. "I'd be concerned if you were, honestly. They were testing to see if I'm a dragon, so maybe that's why she was so interested in getting my towel…" Because Nessalyn is secretly a dragon! SHE'S GOING TO BE THE NEXT WEYRLEADER. Time for some sweet Leirith lovin'. She eyes him carefully, as though waiting for the moment he cracks and goes into true shock. There's an air of disappointment as he just goes back to washing up instead of running screaming from the springs. "You'd think, but then they'll just show up there and we'll be awash in a sea of horny dragonriders."

"I'm pretty sure I'm not /badass/ enough to mate with Leirith, and I'm pretty okay with that." Sylvarin smirks slightly and continues scrubbing now. Hormones do not a broken-Sylvarin make. Insults to his /good/ desserts? Yeah, those work quite nicely. "Wouldn't that be some sort of political snafu? I can't imagine that would bode well with the holders." It's at this time he pauses slightly and then just smirks and shakes his head. "Then again…from what I've learned bout this place I don't think that'd stop them at all. Not if it's entertaining enough." Now finished scrubbing, Syl disappears into the water and resurfaces moments later. That fluffy hair is now slicked back back by two hands and he tentatively starts to relax again. /Tentatively/.

"I lit Monaco on fire with her, soooo…" Nessalyn may refuse to be a minion, but she fully accepts the title of badass. "And I managed to breathe fire." She's bragging about that, a bit of ego finding its way into her tone. The fact that she permanently scarred herself in the attempt is apparently irrelevant to her standards of greatness. The scrubbing shifts from her body to her hair, cleansing the remains of a day spent hard at work from her scalp. She shrugs mid-scrub, offering, "I think Leirith would be happiest if everything dissolved into absolute chaos. Probably the only thing that would make it better would be if we lit the hold on fire." Which, admittedly, she'd find terribly amusing as well. It would almost make all the flight-addled dragonriders worth it. "You could just stay here and see if anyone else decides that you feel soooo goooooood."

"You lit Monaco on fire…." Sylvarin says these words very slowly, "And then you breathed fire…" All of those words are quite measure before he's pinching the bridge of his nose slightly. BROOD. "Is no one normal around here?" Says the man who purposefully gives people food poisoning because it's /entertaining/. He's not a hypocrite, not at /all/. "I guess depending on the Hold it could be well deserved." Some people are assholes, you know? "But then I imagine Xanadu might be obligated to take them all in and if their heads don't explode upon taking one look at this place I'd be surprised." Because all the prudes! Sylv's shoulders tense /just/ the slightest at that last bit from Nessa and one side of his mouth goes up in a smirk. "True. You could /also/ stay here and see if anyone else decides to put their face in your…chest-al area…." dude, please. "when you try to bathe."

"Well, the dance floor. But we had permission." THAT MAKES IT ALL OKAY. Or at least that's what Nessalyn's expression seems to say, as she brushes it off as totally casual. "Yeah, didn't you see my hand?" She moves just a little closer, holding up her burn-scarred hand for inspection. "I lit myself on fire by accident. Lesson learned. Next time, I'll use a torch instead of a match when I breathe fire." Again, totally normal. She shrugs her shoulders in the face of his brooding, her smirk giving away the fact that this ie her form of entertainment. Then with a breath, she disappears under the water to wash out her hair, popping up a moment later further from him than she was before. "I'm pretty sure if we burned their Hold and traumatized them with a flight, they'd find somewhere else to stay…" But there's a devilishly pleased grin up on her lips at thethought of so many people's heads exploding from the Xanadu experience. She may not particularly enjoy physical contact, but she's at least unashamed when it comes to the discussion of where that contact leads. "Please, I'm an attractive woman. Of course someone is going to try to use my rack as a pillow, in or out of the baths." There's a roll of her eyes, because duh.

"Permission. Right." Sylvarin sounds skeptical of this but becomes quite distracted by examining that burned hand. He winces at the left over scar and shakes his head, "Of course. Next time you'll be /well/ prepared to breathe fire. Give me a shout when you try again?" It's go to be at least /somewhat/ entertaining. "Perhaps some other Hold would take them in, but can you imagine the friction between all the Lord and Lady Holders?" It would certainly be something to see! The bakers moves his hands to his head, squeezing out some of the water in those medium-length locks before glancing over at her with a smirk. "You sound like you're looking forward to that. Course, what else would I expect from a woman that just callously throws around marriage proposals?" Speaking of marriage…that relates to dessert…which relates to Taeli. "Going back to an earlier topic, I don't suppose you have any useful information on Taeli I could use for…purposes." REVENGE.

Nessalyn doesn't appear to be bothered by the way the burn mars her skin. In fact, she rather seems to wear it as a badge of honor, taking just as much pride in her failures. "I promise I'll let you know if it happens again, although I think next they were talking about seeing if I could fly." Which no one wants to see, because it'll probably result in broken bones. "You could sell tickets to that. Just have 'em fight each other." Blue eyes seem to light up at the prospect of Lord and Lady Holders attempting to take each other out. It's a little too much enthusiasm, frankly. She leans back, dipping just her hair beneath the water this time to ensure that it's really all clean. "I'm definitely not, thanks." Her expression is one of disgust. "And I'll have you know, you're the first marriage proposal I've ever made. But I also don't spend a lot of time around bakers." And realistically, she'd probably propose to just about any person who reliably fedher delicious desserts. The way to her heart is absolutely through her stomach. "She… likes entrails? Her feelings are easily hurt. Oh, and she owns a lot of knives…"

"I'd rather not witness your untimely demise when you hit the ground…unless there's some sort of contingency plan." Then again, they /are/ in a Weyr with a bunch of dragons. Surely one of them would manage to catch her safely? "Don't worry, hang out with me a bit more and you'll probable be engaged to half the kitchen staff at once." Some sort of weird baker-cook-harem, because isn't that /every/ girl's dream? (It definitely is not). At the provided information on Taeli the baker shakes his head slightly, "No…I'm thinking more in the opposite direction. Anything she /hates/ or can't stand?" A pause. "Though if one used the things she likes to…" To do /what/?! Something nefarious no doubt. Look at those brows knitting together again and mouth twitching slightly. Again the wheels turn!

But they're in Xanadu with Xanadu's dragons, so there's really no guarantee anyone would do anything other than laugh. "I think they've already forgotten the prospect of throwing me off a building. Or if they haven't, flights and eggs will distract them soon enough." A baker-cook harem may not be every girl's dream, but it's quite possibly Nessalyn's. "If they're all willing to feed me as much as you are, I'm in. Let's do it. I'll commit right now." Forget love, there's only food. Unfortunately, she doesn't have much to offer Sylvarin in the way of Taeli advice, admitting, "It's not like we're friends, Syl. She's just some girl who comes along and tries to get up on my personal space and make conversation when I don't want it." There are firm lines being drawn there, much like the way she refuses to call Rhodelia by her name. Nessalyn is an island. "You could use some entrails for a dessert? I mean, that would hurt me to see dessert abused like that, but it'd probably be worth it."

"True, those sorts of things /do/ tend to be quite distracting." Sylvarin grins a bit before he's finally pulling himself out of the water to quickly find a towel. "It'll be the first poly-amorous one of it's kind because who really needs the amorous part, right?" There's a smirk for the engineers before the baker sighs slightly. "I guess I'll just have to go through some trial and error." And as for the entrails part….ohhhh that gling in his eyes. "I would /never/ do something like that." Yeah, he's /definitely/ done it before, while holding back an urge to puke because entrails are /gross/ man. But it's so much fun seeing people react. It takes a moment for Sylv to locate his clothes but eventually he does and they're slipped on with ease. "I'll inevitably see you around, maybe in the kitchen?" Cue another quick grin for the woman before he eventually starts heading off!

"Definitely in the kitchens." Nessalyn tilts her head in acknowledgement of his departure, which is a reminder that it's about time for her to snatch up that oh-so-fluffy towel as well and make her own escape. "And if you ever feed me anything with entrails, I'll kill you!" It's the cheeriest she's been this entire time. Toodles, Sylvarin!

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