Behind Closed Doors

Xanadu Weyr - Luraoth's Menagerie
Before being cleared to make space for the training field, this expanse of land had been a farm. Fence posts still mark out small pastures or tracts of cropland that have long been left to go fallow and become little more than grassy patches of wildflowers. The path from the coastal road weaves between scattered fruit trees left over from an orchard, offering some measure of shade along the walk.

A huge barn with large doors that swing easily are moved by a mechanism with the sound of clinking chains and the chugging of a generator. Within, what must have once been storage space and the home for farm animals has been transformed into a place fit for a dragon. A huge stone makes up the center of the largest chamber, with heating or cooling with the flick of a tail. There are other stones set about in three other dragon-sized nooks, clearly set there for the comfort of guests or patients.

A set of metal stairs as well as a freight elevator around the side of the building allow easy access to a loft area that has largely been left untouched from the time this place was a farm. There's plenty of room for storage, but also room for any number of animals that may come to live here. One corner has been clearly dedicated as 'tunnelcat territory' with a bunch of little platforms, ramps, tunnels, and toys.

Warning: Rated-R for language, crude humor, and content!

Dragons make excellent umbrellas, and Kanekith doesn't mind being used as one. With his clutch of eggs hatched and the new weyrlings off with their mates, Ka'el finally has his buddy back. The two walk through the soggy Weyr, the sky overcast and grey and fat raindrops falling, splattering heavily upon the muddy ground. The wind is chilly and overall its one of those cold and dreary days in which one merely wants to stay inside and enjoy a cup of soup or warm cider. Well, Ka'el isn't quite sure when the last time was that he has enjoyed his weyr! Crashing into bed in the middle of the night doesn't really count. And although he possibly could be heading home at this point to finally relax in his home, he isn't. He walks beneath Kanekith's outstretched wing (toldja they make good umbrellas) with a thermos-like container in hand. "I don't know what his name is, Kanekith. Why don't you ask him yourself?" His conversation with his lifemate is spoken aloud as the two of them move through the meadow and onto the coastal road, muddy and relatively empty of travelers. "You're the one who wishes to know. … No. No I'm not going to go over there. … What? No, I'm not.." Blue eyes roll and he peers up to glare past the covering wing. The seemingly one-sided conversation/argument continues til they reach a familiar weyr barn, and Kanekith trumpets lowly.

Cold and dreary and wet, at least outside. Inside, in that weyr's barn, it's warm and dry. Okay, so it's not entirely dry, because there's a few puddles here and there, but Luraoth's stone is warm and dry, the gold curled comfortably on it. She lifts her head at the sound of Kanekith's call, and gives a quiet rumble-croon of greeting in return, a flicker of her tail to the control for the barn doors. Soriana's not in there with her, though Toral's stolen a corner of the heating rock. He doesn't bother moving - or even opening his eyes - though Luraoth is friendly enough in her greeting, her thoughts holding a soft haze of warmth, edged with pinkish steam as they brush against the rain. « Hello, Kanekith. »

Into the weyrbarn the two go, and Ka'el skitters out from beneath Kanekith wing as the dragon prepares to flap them, ridding them of the larger drops of water. Flap flap! If it were brighter outside, the spray would look brilliant beneath the rays of sunlight. Glittering droplets of rainbows. But as it is, they fall mostly unseen, their magnificence lost in the gloom. Ka'el lifts an arm to shield himself even as he continues to walk away from his dragon, letting their conversation drop as he instead looks to the gold present. "Luraoth," he greets. "Soriana home? I've something for her," he says, lifting up the thermos as he moves to pass by and through. This is the dragon space. Not the human space. And it's obvious with a glance around that there are no humans here. Just sleepy firelizards and wet dragons. And so he continues on, leaving Kanekith behind with his wings gently fanned as he moves in to claim one of those guest stones in a semi-dry place. « Luraoth » he greets, his mind a mirror of the rain outside, yet his comes with the wild scent of jungle. « Mine seeks the company of yours. He has been thrilled by what lies in the container. I see not why it excites him so. » Humans are weird. Ka'el snorts at the one side of the conversation he can pick up, but doesn't stop to correct his bronze. He has a Sori to find and a door to knock on!

Luraoth croons to Ka'el, which doesn't actually answer his question, but her thoughts do reach out to Soriana's. They also brush to Kanekith's, letting the rain be the mediation between them, her pink haze of warmth and his rich jungle. « He will find her. » Or she'll find him, because, well, Soriana's heard from her dragon that Ka'el is here and she's coming out from her cottage and hopping through the rain to peek into the barn and find him. « Perhaps she will enjoy it as well. » If so, Luraoth will be pleased, whether she gets it or not. Humans can be weird. It's amusing sometimes. « When will he let the contained thing out? » Her thoughts hold the scent of air over sands, the warmth of where eggs will be laid - though not yet, but it's still a part of Luraoth's thoughts. Soriana comes to meet Ka'el before he can manage to knock, dressed in the loose clothing she changed to at the end of her workday, and smiles. "Hey." She glances to that thermos. Yep. It's a thing. Doesn't seem all that interesting, so she looks back to Ka'el. "How goes?"

Kanekith settles his body on the stone and, much like a mega-sized feline, makes a theatrical production of laying down. He must circle once. Then knead claws against the stone, then give his wings one last airing out motion before they tuck at his side. Then he kneads again before shifting his body to the left a little because he was a little off center. Then one last circle, a sweep of his tail against the stone, and he settles himself down. Ahhh, comfort! « The contained thing took much to contain » he answers. « I sensed urgency. A mass of bodies surrounding his, which he fought off one at a time to retrieve the treasure. » Uh, what? « It shall be released soon, and yours will realize the great lengths my Ka'el has gone through to attain his gift. » Even though to him, a thing so small can hardly be worth the excitement. But! Even so, he must make his Ka'el to be the brave hero that he is! A slightly soggy hero who can only make a vaguely questioning look at what he's getting from Kanekith before his attention is drawn to Sori as she opens the door before his knuckles can even wrap upon it. A Sori! "Many ways," he answers with a crooked grin. "But.. later. Here I have to give you this. Do you have a cup? A glass?" he says, already stepping forward to get inside.

Xanadu Weyr - Dragon's Rest Farm
In contrast to the gigantic barn is the smaller homestead. The structure is a small two-level cottage, complete with a covered porch that sweeps around the exterior. The wooden slats of the house seem freshly painted, as if this old place has been brought back to life by careful hands. A chair-swing sways beneath the shade of the porch, moving with the slightest breeze off the sea. Inside, the quaint space has been decked out with the comforts one might expect. Fluffy rugs cover hardwood floors, and finely carved furniture dominates most of the spaces. A few things here and there seem older, heirlooms that now have a new place to call home.

Everything within the cottage is comfortable, rather than elaborate. Though it may have once been empty, there is now a warm, welcoming feel to the place. Many large windows and sliding doors look out upon both the training field and across the road, a view of the beach and the sea beyond. Even on the hottest days, these can be opened to let in air and leave the rooms cool and comfortable. Set back a ways from many of the other Weyrbarns along the roadway, there is plenty of room for those who need a bit of space and privacy. There is plenty of space, leaving room to grow, to learn, to expand, and most of all… it is a warm, safe place to come home to when the day's tasks are done.

Luraoth takes her leisure and listens with intrigued curiosity to Kanekith's explanation. « A treasure indeed. » Her thoughts are the amused chime of bells in with the patter of rain. « All the more to be treasured for the effort of catching it. A story. A chase. » A battle for a worthy prize. Soriana grins to Ka'el's answer. "All at once?" Because the side of the other conversation implies… she doesn't even know, but it's definitely implying something. She eyes the thermos, and laughs. "Yeah, sure. Of course I do." She might even have a clean one. Maybe. Is that required? She can look for one, anyhow, so she goes to the kitchen to look for one (just ignore the mess in the sink) and leaves Ka'el to follow her in and all that sort of thing. Or maybe go on a rampage through her house. But no, he's a hero, so he won't do that.

Kanekith knows of that. Chasing. Catching. An epic story of perfection. His stories would be so grand if the mind would allow him to hold on to such things. But the past is passed and gone, and the memories made from it have slipped from the mind. And so he has no exaggerated story of his chase of Luraoth and his chase of Seryth, which is likely for the best. What he does have is a second hand account of a battle waged in the caverns for a very sought-after thing, which Ka'el has stolen a portion of. The rider follows Sori in, leaving his dragon to spin whatever tall tale he wishes. "The one day you aren't around.." he says, clicking his tongue and shaking his head as he arrives in the kitchen, setting the thermos down, "the kitchens decide to serve the best version of klah around." He doesn't even bother to look at the dishes in the sink or go on a rampage and instead is happy to twist the cap off of the letting lose a swirl of steam in the process.

For Luraoth, the thoughts of chase remain - but it's in a distant way, the blurred ancestral memories of what must have been to make her body hold the warmth-seeking fecundity that now occupies her. The details are unknown, uncared for; they simply are, and a portion of her thoughts remain so even as bright attention follows Kanekith's tale, the battle in the caverns viewed third-hand as distorted through a dragon-mind's lens darkly. Yet it entertains Luraoth. Soriana's memories are clearer, but they don't exactly explain this situation. "Oh, what, are you saying I don't spend enough time in the office?" she asks with an arch of her brows and a teasing tone. Because, seriously, she's preeeetty sure she's been spending plenty. Not that she won't be leaving them for the sands at some pont, when Luraoth is ready for the next stage of what that flight began, but… ugh. Don't remind Soriana of that part. Distract her instead. Klah? Sure, that can be a distraction. "The best?" she asks with a grin as she looks through her cupboards and… aha! Here's a pair of mugs. Don't mind the chip on that one's handle, it's still perfectly good, she promises. She brings them over to Ka'el, leaning in to get a sniff of that steam. Is it really all that?

"The best," Ka'el echoes, looking smug about it all as the steam wafts up from the mouth of the container, inviting noses to take a whiff of the aroma that sneaks out. It smells like klah, yes. But it also smells… harvesty. A smell of cinnamon and pumpkin hidden within the usual klah aroma that can fill a room without even trying. "It's a seasonal blend. From Black rock," said with a mild grin as she heads over with those mugs, and he takes them both, setting them on the tabletop and stealing a quick kiss to her cheek before beginning to pour them both a cup. "Perfectly sweetened already, but you can add extra sweetener if you want. You probably won't need to," he says, filling one mug and then the other before recapping the thermos. "My da used to love this stuff," he notes with a half smirk at a memory. A fond reminisce. "I hadn't known it was brought here, but you're goin' to love it. I heard a ruckus in the caverns," Well, not a /ruckus/ but a vague swell in noise, "and went out to investigate. They'd just brought the first pot out, and people were pushing and shoving to get to the front." And by pushing and shoving he really means milling around the klah pot in an unhurried sort of way. "I had to fight and claw my way to the front.." Ok, so how much of this story is being influenced by Kanekith? "And managed to get just enough for us both." Phew! That was close! There was almost no klah to be had!

Yep. Soriana can identify a klah at 500 paces. Okay, so probably not actually (unless it's a very strong klah, and the wind's in her favor), but she can certainly smell one when she's practically sniffing at the thermos. This? This is klah. But it's also… something else, and so she takes a second sniff. "Huh," is her comment, followed by her being quiet so she can listen to Ka'el. She nods to his explanation, with a sidewise glance at Black Rock - sorta making sure he's okay - and then a smile for the kiss to her cheek. Her hand lifts to rest against his back while he pours, not interfering with anything but just… being there. Because there is a good place to be. She nods to the mention of his father - keeping her thoughts from going… elsewhere… from that - then grins for the fact that she'll love it. "Well, it is klah." Which is not to say she doesn't have standards, because she definitely does. Even if they do get occasionally relaxed when she discovers it's 2am and she's got something she has to finish before morning. This doesn't mean she doesn't have them. They're just… flexible. "Did people get out the swords?" Because, well, ruckus. And clearly Ka'el fought heroically to get his share. Their share, actually, because, well, there's a mug being poured for her. "It doesn't smell like it needs a lot of sweet. That's mostly just when it's…" Not up to her standards. Or, well… "Really strong." Which is also good at 2am. At least when you're planning (needing) to stay up until 5am. Or the morning after doing so. Details. But she'll take the mug of this, once it's poured - though she won't move her arm from around Ka'el to do it - and lift it up to take a sip. Aaaaand… "Mmh." That's the sound of it being good. Enough so that she doesn't want to open her mouth and let the taste out by saying words.

"Shards, swords? Axes, Soriana. Axes," replies Ka'el giving her a wide-eyed and meaningful look. Like, really big axes man! "It was a life-or-death sort've situation, but I wanted to brave it all so you could have a taste of .. what was my home." Ah, there's the rueful look. A dimming of the eyes that makes way for a wistful expression brought by the thoughts of a home lost, faces missed, and gathers of friends and family that no new memories shall be made from. Do they even know he's Weyrleader? Was there a hint of pride felt at all? Errant thoughts are refocused and guided back to the here and now. The ever-present sound of rain. Soriana. The klah that stirred the memories. "I don't think it was brewed strongly," he says in inferred assurance that she likely won't be wired and up all night because of it. Hopefully. Even though not as much of an addict as she, he's already had a cup back in the Caverns. He watches as she sips, the feel of her hand to his back a welcomed one, and he awaits her verdict. Mmh? … Mmh! That's a sound of approval if he's ever heard one! His expression brightens. "I knew you had a good taste in klah," he says as he hooks his arm around her hips, extending his other to claim his mug. "I came bearing gifts, so you have to let me stay a while, huh? It's rule written."

Faces missed by the axes? Or missed because they were chopped up with axes? Well… neither, really. Faces missed because of changes that they couldn't accept and beliefs that were too strong to bend - so family ties broke, instead. Soriana's grin for Ka'el's tale of klah-finding adventure fades, becoming a crooked, quiet expression of sympathy. She knows enough to recognize the bittersweet - which is sort of a description of this klah, too, with the sweet flavoring layered on the underlying flavor of the bark itself, the sharpness that's a reminder of how it'll kick you into awake for the day - or night. But the good part of drinking klah regularly is that an extra mug or two won't do any harm, or at least that's the theory and Soriana's sticking to it. And hopefully not to the ceiling. Hopefully. "Course I have good taste in klah," she says with a smirk, and tilts her head to kiss his cheek in between sips. "That depends on where the rule's written. Buuuut I think I'll let it slide this time instead of checking the rules. It's raining, after all." An autumn rain to go with their autumn klah.

Maybe Ka'el enjoys self-inflicted pain? He is the one that brought up Black Rock, and he is the one that thought bringing her a drink from his home would be a good idea. Or maybe, sharing small pieces of home, echoes of the real thing, is the closest he'll get to ever bringing her there and showing her what life was for him before this. Which is silly. He's the Weyrleader. Black Rock is part of his … realm. Territory. Reach. Whatever He should be able to go as he pleases! Which he can, but won't. But … that's okay because he has the klah that tastes like home and Soriana who helps to chase lonely thoughts away those rare moments that they manifest, and it's with a smile on his face that he walks with her, mug in tow, to the living area to find a seat. With her, of course. He sees her rarely enough to not let much space get inbetween them when they do have time to catch up with the happenings of each other's busy lives. He settles, not spilling a drop. "It's written on a tree," he answers. "The rule? Carved in the bark of an ancient tree of…power and might." Ooo, fancy! And mythical and magical and oh so official. He takes a sip of the klah, savoring the taste. Then, "Tell me things." All the things.

Maybe Ka'el does. Or maybe it just comes along with the klah, somewhere in the bitter and hot. It's not like he can ever truly come home again. Even if he were feted as Weyrleader… he wouldn't be coming home as Kale. Still, he's got the klah, and he's got Soriana, who walks with him into her living space with another sip of the Black Rock Klah along the way. There's the couch, by the fireplace that she hasn't bothered to start up yet this turn - though there's still wood from last winter, ready and waiting. Room enough for both of them, not that either of them wants much room in between. "Oh, an ancient tree rule?" She nods sagely. Though sage is more a woody herb than a tree. "That'll do." What'll it do? Whatever it's supposed to. Soriana rests her head back against Ka'el's shoulder, leaning in. The things? "Hah." All the things. Oh so many things. Doesn't Ka'el get enough reports as Weyrleader? "Luraoth's decided she's into sandcastles." At least this month. "She's got at least a dozen weyrbrats all making them and showing her." Soriana smiles, amused… though really, it's getting too wet for sandcastles anymore. So… moving on. "The weavers have been complaining they need more space. With how there's going to be the camelid wool." Only… nobody really knows exactly what it's going to need. Or how long the camelids will take to settle enough for shearing. "So that's fun." Not. What else? "And there's a ghost." Important news, that. "From the ruins, or so I heard."

Ka'el has gotten more than enough reports as weyrleader. But none of those reports have come from Soriana. Those reports he'd want to hear, only if because they are being reported with Soriana's voice, which he's sure he can listen to for the better part of the day. As long as it's not Angry Sori Voice. Or Upset Sori Voice. Or WTF Did You Do Now Sori Voice. He's getting her regular tone now, which he likes and listens to while sipping a liquid memory that steams up around the nose as he drinks. He smirks at Luraoth's report. Alas, sandcastle season is over and the gold may not get her fix of them until the warmer months of spring. And when are weavers not complaining? He smirks a little at that, a particular weaver coming to mind at the mentioning. And… a ghost? He quirks a brow up. "Wouldn't be surprised," he says of that. Ghosts are real! Maybe. And they should be aware. "As long as it isn't worrying the dragons, it can haunt til its heart's content." He pauses at that, thinking it over. "Mm. Guess not til its heart's content, as ghosts don't have hearts, eh? It can haunt til its…spirit's rested?" He smirks and leans back against her a little, content even without the crackle of a fire to serve as background noise. "I've chosen a Weyrsecond." His news. "And handled Mur'dah, I think." Oh, and that reminds him.. "Do you think I'm too soft?"

Sori has many voices, but the one she's using now ranges from Amused Sori Voice to Vaguely Put-Upon-But-Not-By-Ka'el Sori Voice. Luroath'll be getting more time with the sands before long, but… not so much with castles. And if it wasn't the weavers complaining, it'd be someone else. There's always something As for that ghost? "It has a ghost heart, doesn't it? Sorta spooky and… translucent. Or ectoplasmic." Or something. "S'why you get the stories about the heart beating on through the walls. Besides, if it weren't for the hearts, where would haunted weyrs with bleeding walls get the blood?" Practical ghosting! Buuuut, regardless of how practical, the ghost (or not) doesn't seem to be worrying the dragons, so Soriana's not worried about it either. She tilts her head to the mention of a Weyrsecond, looking up at Ka'el. "Yeah? Who?" It's the obvious question. Mur'dah… mmh. That makes her frown a little, though it's not the sort of frown that makes her body tense up and move away from Ka'el. She's just… meh. Her mouth tugs to the side, and then she blinks at his question. "What? No." Now she does move a bit, but it's just so she can look at Ka'el more fully. "Why would you be too soft?" Curious Sori Voice.

She makes very valid points! Where would the blood come from if not from ghost hearts? Translucent…bloody hearts with invisible blood that only becomes visible when in contact with walls. Exactly. Ka'el grins throughout that because it’s funny and who else would he have a conversation about bloody ghost hearts with and not be looked at as if they were crazy? Ha. Soriana's awesome. "Noted," he says with a slow, reverent nod. Then about his Weyrsecond. "Kiena, rider of Ujinath. Blue." He's not sure why the color seemed necessary to tack on, but it did. "You've met her… I think?" Maybe. She was on the beach that day, right? And probably informal passing times in-between. "Though…I may be lyin' to you," he adds with a vague wrinkle of his nose. "She hasn't accepted yet. She wishes to think on it, which I get. I mean, I would've like the chance to think on bein' Weyrleader," said with a crooked smirk. "She .. doesn't seem to think she's the best fit for it, but I think she is. I'm hopin' the next time we meet, she'll come to me with a yes." It's like a proposal! Well, it is a proposal, just not of the marriage kind. As for being soft… "Meh. I was told I was… easy on Mur'dah with his punishment. "

Crazy? Maybe. Soriana's not going to entirely claim she isn't. But it's in a good way. A very sensible sort of way, that understands important things about ghost blood. She grins back to him as he agrees about those important things, then listens as he moves on to others. Kiena? "Yeah, I've met her. Couple times." Not enough to know her well, but enough that she'd probably have known the color of the dragon even if he hadn't mentioned. And also… "Smithrider, right?" She knows these things. Ka'el's lies - possibly - get a curious tilt of her head, followed by an, "Oh," of understanding. "Yeah. Can't blame her. It's… a big change." So why do the biggest of them not get a chance for second thoughts? It's not just Soriana who's crazy. Sometimes… the whole system is. But here they are. Even if things are hard sometimes. Or… soft? Soriana makes a face of vague distaste. Meh, indeed. She's quiet for a moment, putting her words together. "Nah. It's…" A shake of her head. "What are you punishing him for? Really?" She leans in against Ka'el lightly, though she keeps her head angled such that she can see him as she starts counting things off on her fingers. "Making a mess. Interrupting your work. Being stupid? Hah, if we started on that, the punishment roster'd be impossible. So… you made him clean up the mess. And you reminded him of the importance of work by taking him off his. What else should you have done? And why?"

Ah, so she does know Kiena. That's good! And it's also good that he hasn't noted any disapproving expressions on her face at the revelation of just who his hopeful Weyrsecond may be. Her opinion? Obviously valued, and although it's unlikely that he'd suddenly retract his proposition to the bluerider just because she wrinkled her nose, but he'd pry for information. But prying doesn't seem necessary, as there isn't anything to pry about. Other than his motives on Mur'dah's punishment, be it harsh enough or not. Ka'el watches her hands as those reasons are listed off, his head bobbing slightly at each one and snickering slightly at the imagined list of 'stupid' incidences to be hashed out. Yes. Far too lengthy of a list that'd be. He himself would be on there multiple times if it wasn't for his rank! "Admittedly…" Oh, fancy word! "I was mad. Shards, I'm still mad when I think of it, but it's more of an .. aftershock of mad. Like the spread apart ripples when you've dropped a stone in water. At the initial drop, I wanted to do…anything to him that'd make him feel as big of a fool as I did. Nothin' seemed harsh enough. But then, I thought to myself, I don't want to be remembered as the angry Weyrleader. Thea's already compared me to A'dmar once." His nose twitches. Still a sore spot, that. "So. I gave him what I did, but I guess I was expected to do more. Just what more, I don't know. This whole thing made me realize I don't know shards about giving punishments. What's effective and not. His…I don't think was seen as effective. He hardly batted an eye about it and apparently enjoyed what he was doing. Or at least made it a point to seem as if he was."

And even if Soriana did wrinkle her nose, she wouldn't try to tell Ka'el no about it. She'd just tell him why. Kiena, though? Yeah, she doesn't have any objections. Admittedly (yay big words!) that may just be because she doesn't know Kiena well enough, but rest assured Ka'el, if Soriana comes up with objections… she'll tell you. She doesn't have any. She grins crookedly to go with Ka'el's snicker - yeah, they're neither of them immune from being stupid - then sobers as they continue. Ka'el was mad? She nods, entirely unsurprised. Of course he was mad. She doesn't seem shocked that he wanted to be harsh, either. Because, well… he was mad. Being mad's like that. The mention of A'dmar gets a curious tilt of her head, a moment of thought… and then a sigh, a frowning curve of her lips as she lets it go for now. A'dmar's gone. And the punishment's over, for that matter - unless it gets revisited, but… her mouth tugs sideways and in. More? But … yeah, like he said, what. And… meh. Punishments. She sighs, and reaches up to trail her fingers lightly through Ka'el's hair, ruffling it up. "Expected by who?" she asks, then shakes her head. "Y'don't have to say." Weyrleader confidentiality and all. "But that's the thing. It's not about proving you're tough and… mean, or whatever. Y'think Mur'dah's going to do it again? Because if he's not… then it was effective. You think he was going to complain about it?" Her lips quirk to one side. "Would you have? Because I sure's Faranth wouldn't."

Weyrleader confidentiality. This probably wouldn't be the first time, or last, that Ka'el has kept the source of something quiet. Even though, granted, this time it's hardly a situation where important things are at stake. Well, important in a way, but not to the entire Weyr. And so although his tongue initially begins to move, he stills it. The name isn't as important as the content, and the content is being discussed. And along with that, his hair is being ruffled, and that brings with it a small smile despite the topic of punishments, lack thereof, or a lack of effectiveness of them. He leans to set what's left of his drink on whatever nearby table is available, and with his hands now free his arm lifts and curls around her shoulders. "I don't think he'll do it again, no," he says with a shake of his head, those words confident sounding. "And it wasn't that he wasn't complaining. It's more've the fact that he was so damn chipper about it. As if anything I could've done or said to him wouldn't've really mattered anyway. But," he shakes his head once, "he's been handled. Other things that have happened that are worth reporting? I may be goin' to Fort to help Kiena handle her ex-weyrmate and gather her girls. If I can get a way. I want to go, just in case. I'm looking to buy a music player for the office. And apparently there's already bets circulating about when Luraoth will clutch." … "Any insight?"

Soriana leans into Ka'el's arm, and nods. Mur'dah won't do it again. Punishent successful. And… she looks considering as he explains the rest of the problem. Like it didn't matter. And… "Well. Why should it?" It's a serious sort of question, her gaze steady as she watches him. "Have you given him any reason to care? Because… last I heard… you being mad at him's about the most you've done with him, the past turn. Mur'dah's not going to care because you're Weyrleader. His mom's Weyrwoman, he's used to that. He cares about his friends. That's… about it." She shrugs. But it's true, that's been handled - so… moving on. To/from - "I thought she was from Western?" is asked about Kiena. See? She does (vaguely) know the bluerider. "Call it diplomacy, when you go. S'good excuse." She's used it! Though at the moment… Luraoth's getting close to egg-heavy. How close? "Hah. Not this seven…" Mmh. "I don't think, anyhow." So… yeah, she doesn't know. Neither as rider nor dragonhealer.

"He's used to getting his way. Having free reign of this place," snorts Ka'el on the dropped topic that's not dropping very well, even if it has been handled. "I don't stay mad at people for turns. No one's worth strife for that long." Disregarded, on the other hand. That's totally different than being mad. To be mad, one must have an ounce of caring left. Disregarding is easy. "I've left him be as he's wanted. 'Not worth the effort.' Those were his words months ago, not mine. I'm not his friend. I couldn't care less that he doesn't care about me. But as a rider, he should care when he's out of line or is in trouble with his Weyrleader regardless've who his Weyrleader is. The fact that he doesn't, that's what bothers me." As for Fort? Did he say Fort? "Her brother is there. Weyrleader…Her girls live in Western, you're right." He's ruffled, vaguely, and it's annoying. Or maybe he's ruffled because he's annoyed. Whatever the case … annoyed.

It's kind of a semi-dropped topic. Because it keeps coming back, doesn't it? Worth the effort or not. "I'm not telling you to be," Soriana says of Mur'dah. She isn't. She hasn't. The (former) friendship… yeah, she hasn't talked to Ka'el about it, because… "He was stupid." Her eyes are on Ka'el. "He didn't think about his Weyrleader. Because even Mur'dah's not stupid enough to do that to a Weyrleader. He should have realized that there's nobody in that office who isn't, but…" A shrug. "He didn't." Which was, let's review, stupid. "So yeah. As a rider? He should care. So you took away his rider-ness." For a sevenday. As much as possible, given, well, the fact that Kalsuoth's still there. "If he does it again…" She tilts her head. "But he won't." Ka'el said so himself. "People shouldn't be afraid of their Weyrleader. They should respect him. If you'd been harder on him? He'd think it was you being mad. You, not the Weyrleader. And he wouldn't respect that. He'd just try to get back at you. Being fair, he'll respect. He'll stay out of the way." And that's what Ka'el wants, right? "Lesson learned." She hopes, anyhow, but she does think so. As for Kiena's girls… Soriana nods. Okay, Western. Which means Zi'on's Weyr, which means… eh. She sighs a little, and leans in against Ka'el.

Time will carry this away and eventually it'll be an annoying, yet distant memory to Ka'el. Right now, it's just as annoying, yet unfortunately not so distant that he can escape it as easily as he wants to. Ruffled feathers remain ruffled, but gradually do they begin to smooth. It happened. Lesson learned. Ka'el will need to learn to stop analyzing things that have already been dubbed 'handled' because if he doesn't, he may never find peace of mind. The situation is no longer one, and if it happens again.. well. They'll cross that bridge when they come to it. A vague noise is made in his throat as he exhales, nodding to her in agreement about fear. There should be no fear. No terror, anyway. A slight fear of being in trouble? Always a helpful thing. As she leans in against him, he tightens his hold around her, molding her against him as he turns his head and nuzzles against her hair. Feathers, unruffled. No more brownrider talk. "There shouldn't be trouble in Western. Apparently there were terms set, she's met them." As far as he knows anyway. Family matters obviously aren't his forte. "He'll hold up his end of their deal, and there should be no problem." Should being the key word! "Easy." Hopefully. Fingertips rub at her arm while his free hand lifts to brush them against her jawline. "Haven't had word of his bronze being around here as much anymore." And that's just peachy if you asked him. "He hasn't bothered you, has he?"

Soriana generally aims for the 'fear of disappointing' personally. It's a nice fluffy gentle sort of fear, and… it seems to work! The other sorts of fear? Maybe she'll have to engage them at some point. No terror, though. That's going too far. For now, she's not going anywhere at all, because she's leaning in to Ka'el, pressing her body in against the shape of his. Squish. In a very pleasant sort of way, and so she smiles. The talk of Mur'dah (errant brownrider) is left behind. There's talk of Kiena to be had, and this she simply listens to and nods. "Sounds good. I'm sure Luraoth'll be glad to observe their sandcastles when they get here." Or whatever else. Luraoth knows the children of this Weyr better than Soriana does, and the goldrider's okay with that. She tilts her head and kisses at his fingertips, nuzzling in lightly… then pausing. "Who, Zi'on?" she asks, with a glance up to him, then shrugs. "Not really. I mean…" She gives her head a shake. "He thinks with his dick." Apparently Soriana's being undiplomatic tonight. "But he takes no." Eventually.

That's right! The twins will be new sandcastle contestants for Luraoth. Two pairs of hands for her to watch shape the sand into … likely, some shapeless thing that'll be their masterpiece. "After learning how to properly swing while standing." Totally safe. Kiena is not going to regret bringing her kids here! Not at all. Especially with such amazing role models Xanadu has to offer, like Ka'el. No child is safer than when they're with the Weyrleader, right? … Heh. So one would like to assume. Ka'el is really digging those fingerkisses, and his thumb brushes lightly beneath her jaw before she answers about the Western leader. He blinks. Wait…. Wait, what? He looks at her, eyes taking on a vaguely owlish quality to them. "..Did you just say dick?" He almost, almost wants to laugh, but by some miracle refrains from doing so, although his eyes betray his mirth. "I don't think I've ever heard you use that word before," he says, unable to fight his smile at least, and portions of it are seen tugging at his mouth. "Long as he hasn't been .. a dick to you, we're alright." He pauses, traces of a smirk on his face and that lifted hand of his lowers to rest upon her thigh. "My ears don't believe me. Say it again." Straight face. Straight face!

"And you're making Kiena your weyrsecond," is Soriana's only comment on the part where Ka'el's going to teach the bluerider's children how to swing standing up. Okay, that and a smirk, because her smirk definitely counts as a comment on this. On his head be it? And hopefully not on theirs, when they go tumbling. Which they won't do, because it's perfectly safe, right? … yeah about that thing where it's lucky stupidity isn't a punishable offence. At least not yet. But for now (and, really, any time up until the bleeding and screaming) it's funny, and so Soriana's just teasing with her words. Also with her lips, and those small kisses. And… "What?" she demands of him, with a glare that'd be fiercer if it weren't also amused. "Yes, I did. I do have a vocabulary, you know." A large one! That… includes words such as dick. Even if she doesn't use them very often. (Hardly ever, really.) But they exist. "Yeah, no, he's -" Eye. Soriana gives Ka'el an eyeing. An exasperated one. Seriously? Seeeeeeriously? Because she sees that face, and it so doesn't look serious. Pretending to be serious, yes. Actually serious? "No," she says in the I-Am-Not-Laughing Sori Voice. (But not the one where she's not amused. Just the one where she's not laughing.) "He hasn't been a dick to me." Not that she expects Ka'el to hear more than one word out of that particular sentence.

Ka'el will be the most popular Weyrleader amongst the kidstaff of Xanadu. And by kidstaff, we mean weyrbrats. Under the age of seven. Why? Because he'll be showing them all the glorious ways not to do things that could be totally safe! Like swinging (while standing) and sliding (backwards of course) and see-sawing (with three kids on each side to make it a competition of who's heavier). Ah, those were his glory days, they were! But Kiena's kids are not here yet, neither are the masses of children for him to corrupt. What is present is the word "dick" hanging in the air, which he still doesn't believe was actually said, and so he's left looking at her with that not-laughing-but-wanting-to-laugh look on his face while he waits… Yes. YES she DID say it! *snerk!* He can't help it. A chortle escapes, one which he tries to strangle back but that only makes the sound louder than what it would've been if he would've just left it. *snickersnort!* His cheeks bulge and he looks at her with a wide-eyed expression. Not. Gonna. Laugh. Nope. Not even…a..little… Dick. He fails in his attempt to keep the cackling in, and out it comes because to hear Sori say a word as vulgar as "dick" obviously is the funniest thing in the world to him. Hahaha! He laughs despite her pretend serious look which he may know is a pretend serious as opposed to seriously serious. He continues to laugh as he jabs a finger against her side and proclaims "You said dick!" in such a non-Weyrleadery way that anyone looking in would have a hard time believing that he actually is a Weyrleader. But..hey, funny's funny!

Oh yes. Such a Weyrleader is Ka'el. With being a shining example of what not to do for small children. And with laughing at Soriana. Who's being an example of what not to say. At least not in front of small children, but oh wait, there's none of those here… except Ka'el, who is evidently nine and just heard his first dirty word on the playground. Where he's been demonstrating all these irresponsible ways to have fun. Soriana rolls her eyes at him, and pokes him right back. Poke poke poke. It's an escalating war of pokes. "What?" she demands of him. Glare. Or maybe, "So what?" Because yes, that's also a valid question. And valid poking. That she's doing to Ka'el. Because… uh… she's a serious Junior Weyrwoman. And he's a Weyrleader.

Hey, she can't poke him! Because he's poking her and it's not fair for her to poke while he's poking! Jab, jab, poke, prod. Ka'el's finger keeps up its assault, adding in a wiggle here and there as they press into her side. "So what it's dick," he says, cracking another grin and snicker. "Y'can't tell me it doesn't sound funny comin' out of your mouth!" Well … maybe it doesn't to her. He leans away from her in a sad, sorry attempt at avoiding fingers that are far too close to be avoided. That's ok! That arm that was around her unhooks so he can use it as a shield. Blocked! "It'd be as funny soundin' as me saying…I don't know…some word I never use." Which may be a difficult task to do. His colorful at times. "It's funny!" he concludes with mirthful eyes.

Fair? Who said anything about fair? Nowhere in the many annals of Weyr Rules and Regulations (and shards, are there a lot of those!) does it say anything about fair. Soriana gives her eyes another roll. And Ka'el another poke. Well. More or less. He's trying to block. "Since when am I some perfect little holder lady?" she asks with grinning exasperation. "You… have been spending too much time in the office." Hah! So has she. "With etiquette and manners and all that shit." Oh yes. She used that word deliberately. Because colorful language! …brown is a color. And so now she eyes him. Gonna make something of it, Kaaaaa'eeeeel?

Ah! That last poke of hers got through his blockade, causing him to flinch away. She's a crafty one, that Soriana! "I wouldn't go as far as saying perfect" he says, giving her a playful look as he resettles in his seat. "Snobbish? Definitely. The way you have to use the correct forks and spoons, and only if they've been polished to a shine. The way you're never seen without a dress, an' always the latest…thing from…FashionWeyr." Ha! "The way you walk, so prim and proper, afraid to get mud on your shoes. And the way you talk" Apparently also so prim and proper, but he never gets around to saying that because it's not long after that she says "shit" so purposefully that he has to laugh. "Ooooo. What would your mother think??" he says with false shock once he's gotten his laughter under control. "You'll be sent back to etiquette school. Five more turns of apprenticing in the Snob Craft for you! I'll haul you there myself!" Complete with pink fuzzy handcuffs! Or maybe diamond-encrusted. Hmmm.

Oh yes. So crafty. But the craft in question? Is definitely not etiquette. Her perfection - she arches a brow, then goes - "Ha!" at his claim of her snobbishness. "Bone china teacups." As opposed to the mugs (one of them with a chip) that are sitting on the table while they poke each other. And FashionWeyr? She can't help but snicker. Because that's not even a place. And her - "Crystal slippers." That she sashays around on, and… okay, she can't even come up with an amusing retort for the bit about what her mother'd think, because… well… Sorrin never did cover her ears when one of the beastcrafters went on a blue streak. And with the tempers of some of those runners? Oh yeah. Blue was a color. "Ha! They won't even have me. They'll cast me out. My pinkies are too…" something. "I'll never hold the teacups again!"

Ooo, fancy teacups! And slippers more expensive than even the most finely crafted piece of jewelry! Soriana is totally fancy. Or, was. Til her mouth started spitting out uncouth words. Like … dick. Heh … heh, Ka'el still finds that funny when he thinks about it. And shit. And who knows what else she's been randomly spouting off in her free time? She's in dire need of re-education. "Shards, you may be right," he says with an owlish gaze. "They may not take you back … y'could be too far gone!" Shock! Horror! "You'll be in exile. Forced to wear clothing of the common folk…rags. And you won't bathe in the sacred waters of a hidden mountain pool. You'll bathe in a regular pool!" No! "Damnit Soriana. Why, why did you have to say … dick." Snerk. It's like an automatic response now, that snicker! And his next poke is aimed at her belly. Poke!

Totally fancy! Or… not. Not is really the far more reasonable option here. Soriana's spouting - which sounds dirty, but isn't (or is it?) could be getting really out of hand. "I'm besmirched." Aww yeah. Big words. "…by dick." …not so big words, but Soriana's got the smirk for it. "They'll never let me into the dust-free halls of graciousness ever again." Or in the first place. "I'll be… why… I might have to eat food instead of dining on the airy scents of perfume and flower petals!" Imagine it! So tragic! No more will she eat di- waitno. That'd be something else entirely, but for…tunately?… she doesn't get that far, on account of there's that poke to her belly which makes her squirm and laugh!

Poor Soriana. Exiled to normalcy. To places like … this! Just a regular weyr with regular things and regular company. With regular conversations about dicks. And eating. And it's so very (un)fortunate that she did not voice both of those things together! Because Ka'el's already in a nine-turn-old's mindset when it comes to hearing that word. Now … eating that word? He may explode! (in more ways than one?) But luckily, (right?) he's not exploding and instead Soriana's laughing which puts Ka'el in attack mode. Bewaaare the attack Ka'el! Soriana soon has to contend with a one hundred sixty something pound man all over her, literally. He looms, body pressing against the side of hers as one hand poke poke pokes at her stomach in staccato attacks. The other hand? Well it's making a nuisance of itself by grabbing at her in general as he continues to press and squish. "Might as well give up, eh? what's the point? Your life, so … uh…" He knows a word .. "Mundane. So commonplace! I'll take you out of your misery!" Death by squishing! And tickle attacks, apparently. What a death. What a glorious death!

Oh yes. So very lucky is Soriana. Ka'el's exploding dick is - oh wait, no, they're not talking about that. And a good thing too, because, uh… they're… really, it's a good thing the curtains are closed, because nobody in this entire Weyr would ever respect the authority of either of them ever again if word of this got out! Because Soriana's squirming and poking back up at Ka'el, laughing as she tries to tickle at his sides and really not being all that effective at getting him off her, mostly because she's not really trying. Though there's a few bumps of knees and hips and such when he's squishing some part of her that'd rather be unsquooshed. For the rest, though? Attack Ka'el to the forward! "My life as a fashionista is over! No more will I be - hee - the belle of the ball! Nevermore!" Quoth the raven. Or would, except ravens are serious birds and wouldn't get anywhere near this.

"And now you're talkin' about balls!" Ok so yes Ka'el is very much aware that that's not the type of 'ball' that she's talking about. At all. Buuuuut… it fits so well with the theme! "Dicks and balls, Sori. Dicks and balls! That's the sort've thing that's gotten you kicked out of the FashionWeyr and Snob Craft. And here you are, still at it! Have you learned nothing?" Wrestle, poke, ouch! Ha! Prod, wiggle! So many verbs are being done here on her sofa, which is turning out to be a great playground. His pushing continues, attempting to flatten her down against the cushions and pin her, chest to chest, heavy male sprawled upon female. Mwuaha! There. Try to escape from this, The Ka'el Hold of Squishdoom! Yes. Doom!

And just what sort of belles are these anyhow, if they're so fond of balls? "What?" Soriana goes, and then she makes an almost choking laugh. Oh right. Balls and dicks and - "Well what else have I got left?" she declares. "No snobbery! No fashioning! Nothing - nothing at all to sustain me - to satisfy me - but dicks and balls!" And this is the part where she - having wriggled about and squirmed against and pressed at, along with the poking and pinning and flattening - has worked a hand around in an attempt to add another verb to what's being done on her couch. The verb Soriana adds is grope. And she does it (or attempts to, anyhow, this is kind of not exactly anatomy-textbook easy) to Ka'el's… dick. And also balls.

Oh is that what she needs to satisfy her? Well! Ka'el can certainly provide both of those and heartily at that! She's right. She has nothing, absolutely nothing left! .. Other than a boyfriend who's intent on squishing and poking her for the rest of the evening. Play is a necessary thing, and he's been short on it for a while. Especially play with her, which is one of his favorite types. And so he laughs and grins with her, keeping himself heavily upon her with a lengthy monologue of his might to come .. but in one movement, Soriana wins the epic battle. Hey, she may be going in blind, but as long as she's headed in a southerly direction, there's not too much wrong she can do. Dick and balls … for the win. Ka'el's fight against her fails now as his body gives an instinctive and slow grind against her hand. Yup. Game over. He looks at her, his grin still in place, but it's a grin of a different sort now. What was that word she used? Satisfy. His intentions of being close have shifted from comfort, to play, to satisfaction. He aims to please, and as his lips close in on hers to kiss and once poking hands settle upon her to roam and grope softer areas in return, 'satisfy' and 'pleasure' are now the two words that guide him for the rest of the night.

Nothing other than that, and that, well, it's going to take Soriana all night. Not… all of it in groping and grinding, in kisses where her lips press to his and wriggles of her body that focus on toward rather than away from his - they'll sleep at some point - but Ka'el's not going to be going anywhere tonight except a journey toward satisfaction with Soriana. Oh, it'll be playful along the way, and they'll like be comfortable when they're done (especially if they manage to move from couch to bed, though… that's going to require a pause from the seeking of satisfaction), but they're definitely going to be occupied with the pursuit of pleasure. Poking? Yeah, there'll be some of that still. Also one dick, two balls, and… various other anatomy. Satisfaction? Oh yeah.

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