Xanadu Weyr - Purgatory
While the cottage is not large, the rooms are spacious, the place constructed with an open floor plan and designed with the young at heart. Large windows allow for light to flood the area, while inside shutters may be closed for privacy. The dragon space is slightly concave, slate laid to protect the floors from sharp claws. The rest of the flooring is polished hardwood. A simple kitchenette has a dining area that juts out over the waters below, along with a breakfast nook sort of room. The living room is completed by a low, comfortable couch and a few large cushion-like pillows that when piled together make more of a nest-like seating around a small, equally low, dark wood table. Two other ground level rooms form a spacious and well furnished 'guest' room, while the other is suited more as an 'study'.
The draw for 'young ones' comes with the spiral staircase that leads to a loft bedroom, also flooded with light from the triangular window in the peak of the ceiling. Beneath that very window, rests a circular-shaped bed. Tiny pinpoints of light are imbedded in the ceiling to form 'stars' when the main lights are extinguished. Encircling the spiral staircase is a slide — a fast and fun way to get back downstairs. Affixed from the stout beam that runs the length of the peaked ceiling is a thick rope swing. For those… rainy days.
WEYRBAES. IN. XANADUUUUUUUUU!!!! They aren't so uncultured that they've just GONE AND SHOWN UP, because that would be RUDE, but they were invited by a certain goldrider who, despite her increasingly frail-looking constitution, is bustling around the kitchen trying to get food ready at the last minute - enough for everybody to partake in, because ILA'DEN EATS TOO DAMN MUCH and MAYBE ALSO because she didn't trust that she made the food well, so she made it a couple (hundred) times to make sure that there was a variety of… the same thing? (IT'S ALL AWFUL, RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!) Regardless, Risali's DOING HER BEST OKAY, looking like she's caught the plague (or the plague has caught her) even if she's still got enough energy to GLARE DEATH AT K'VIR FOR REASONS THAT ARE PROBABLY RIDICULOUS AS SHE MUTINOUSLY STIRS A POT OF SOMETHING THAT MIGHT BE MASHED TUBERS, BUT COULD VERY WELL JUST BE GRUEL BECAUSE IT LOOKS ABOUT AS EDIBLE. "I will hurt you," she's telling her weyrmate, for reasons that may be as simple as him EXISTING IN HER SPACE before Ila'den KICKS OPEN THE DOOR (okay, he very gently used his foot, but it COULD HAVE BEEN MORE BADASS) to come in with… R'hyn and Cita over his shoulders? DAMN RIGHT. ONE EACH. WHAT IS THE USE OF TWO SHOULDERS IF HE CANNOT EMBARRASS BOTH OF HIS WEYRMATES IN ONE GO? THERE IS NONE. THIS IS THE ONLY USE FOR THEM. THE MOST PROPER KIND OF USE. THE - "Risali, that smells awful —" A GLARE. " -ly good. Do you need any help?" EXASPERATION, THY NAME IS RISALI, and she's turning to look at K'vir again with a cooking utensil extended towards him in a manner that's threatening (like she might wield a knife) before she pushes it into his chest like TAKE THIS PLEASE BEFORE MY DAD BREAKS SOMETHING. "Really Dad?" But maybe Ila'den is distracted, because that grey eye is intent on Risa's face, and his grip on Cita and R'hyn is maybe a little tighter instead of getting looser. NEVERMIND THAT ONE OF THEM JUST HAD A BABY. STITCHES WHO WUT. THERE'S ENOUGH S&R RIDERS IN HERE TO MAKE IT RIGHT IF NEED BE.
They ARE so uncultured as to arrive Ilaback, but well, does it REALLY look like that's their choice? DOES IT? Cita looks a little bit like she's given up on any protests she might have long ago, hanging down like a sack of POTATO-s and kicking her feet absently. When she twists — with some difficulty — far enough to meet Risa's eyes, though, the goldrider kind of blanches right out of her stormy moue. "Risa!" Ila's grip is tightening, but the cadence of the feetkicks is definitely getting quicker, or at least body-slams in the general direction of her Weyrmate's daughter. TALLY-HO, STEED. "You look less good than me, Risa!" The healer protests, glancing with narrowed eyes at K'vir, who is maybe definitely getting blamed for all of this. Poor K'vir. "Are you okay? Ila, either put me down, or…" THAT'S HER DAUGHTER, OKAY. OR. SOMETHING.
See? K'vir might have tried to gently suggest that HE do the cooking, trying carefully to pick his words to make it seem like it's all for RISALI's health (and not theirs). ALAS! He is not good with words and he is definitely not good with handling a hormonal pregnant woman. HE DOESN'T WANT TO DIE, FOLKS~ So they'll have to suffer through food (SOME must be edible!), but he's made sure there's plenty of alcohol (sorry not sorry Risa) for the REST! And mostly for him. LOTS AND LOTS FOR HIM! And he has NO TIME to go get it or even offer it, because the door is swinging open and there's trouble in three! K'vir looks midway through a barked laugh and pained grimace but ends in a dry chuckle when Risali presses that spoon into his chest. Okay, OKAY! "I'll take over here." GO SAY HELLO TO YOUR FAM! He'll… salvage what he can and pull a Th'ero by being oddly quiet. HE SAW THOSE LOOKS! Including Cita's. None of which he acknowledges because… he may or may not be trying to subtly mask the fact that something is burning in the kitchen. Ahem.
And where's D'lei even? Has he fled the house entirely, afraid of Risali's cooking? …would anyone blame him if he had? But wherever he is, the answer is NOT HERE, NOT NOW. Or maybe, maybe the answer is SNEAKING UP BEHIND YOU, which, honestly, you'd think R'hyn or Citayla would be at least a little observant while slung over Ila-back, but no, D'lei has to open the door himself, even though he's got bags in both hands, because that's just how things are around here. (Okay, so he put down one of those bags to open the door, but never mind that. He picks it back up again once he has a foot shoved in to keep the door opened. Unless someone slams it on him. Like Risali. Quick, distract her!)
CULTURE. HAH. PAH. ROFL. WHAT'S THAT, PRECIOUS. R'hyn's slung over Ila'den's other shoulder attempting to juggle a porcelain dish of something that's probably hot, and probably burnt, because clearly Risa and Ryn should have an AWFUL COOK OFF. Seared everything and a wide wide variety of tuber-gruel in every single flavor. Strawberry potato gruel. It's probably a thing somewhere. But for right now, the bronzerider is shoulder-bound, blindfolded, and making his protests known, a long, low string of words that doesn't stop even though it appears they've reached their destination. "two very good feet and enough autonomy that even you'd choke on it and" Risa! Citayla's announcement makes Heryn sigh and droop across Ila'den's shoulder. "You said this was a surprise. Risali is not a surprise! You tricked me. Take this stupid blindfold off." Another voice enters the fray, and if possible, R'hyn melts further into his weyrmate's shoulder because of course they're not alone. "Sweetbabyfaranthifuckinghateyouwearesohavingadiscussiononyourabuseofpowerwhenwegethome," muttered low, followed by, "Hello, I'm sorry," for K'vir. It comes out more sullen than he intended, elbow coming up to smack Ila in the back of the head, hopefully not sloshing that mystery dish all over D'lei when that door opens behind them. "Faranth," R'hyn sighs because this is SO MANY SHADES OF UNDIGNIFIED, but also par for the course, shifting his bowl into one hand to wave one oven-mitted hand at the so-far-unidentified-but-he-can-make-guesses D'lei entering the weyr. "Also I don't know what you're talking about. Whatever it is, it smells fine." Which tells you about how much you can trust R'hyn's nose. "What's wrong with Risa?" CHILDISH FEET KICK. "Put me down already!"
PRECIOUS CINNAMON ROLL THAT K'VIR IS, he MIGHT make it out of tonight ALIVE and in ONE PIECE. But ONLY if he somehow manages to sneak in the alcohol into everybody's cups, because Risali will murder them all slowly and watch them all drip blood, and then she will drink that, and then she will become a renegade, and then she will sacrifice R'hyn to sate the insatiable, and THEN WHERE WOULD WE BE? BESIDES. Risali was offended that K'vir told her (gently, sweetly) that she could go help with other things, and so THE CHALLENGE WAS ACCEPTED (and failed) AND FIGHT HER. Still, she's reaching out to catch his wrist in one hand and squeeze as she goes, taking two steps forward until her eyes meet Citayla's and the NOXIOUS SMELL OF R'HYN'S COOKING REACHES HER NOSE. It might also be whatever's burning in the kitchen, but whatever it is, Risali is reaching for the table to lean against it, and suddenly looking a little bit like Cita in space - green, and sick, and not at all okay with the world suddenly so far below her. "I'm - " A beat, a hard swallow that has Ila's grip TIGHTENING EVEN MORE, and then INCOMING! There's D'lei, letting in MORE FRESH AIR, and letting out some of that DANGER DANGER THE BABY DOES NOT AGREE fume of death long enough for Risali to swallow down what MIGHT have been bile, and choke out, "Fine, Cita. Really." Which is when Ila'den moves, rumbling low laughter PROBABLY at R'hyn's threats as he shifts forward and crouches just enough to let his weyrmates OFF THE RIDE. "Is the discussion going to involve silk ties and Cita leaving shame cat by our door again?" BECAUSE IF NOT, HE'S STAYING IN XANADU TONIGHT. WHATEVER. Ila hangs back as shoulders roll, and he reaches forward to pull the blindfold from R'hyn's face with a wolfish smile that says too much while not really saying anything at all. "Look for yourself, husband. I think the surprise is what's making her make that face." OR MAYBE IT'S JUST R'HYN'S FACE. And maybe Ila'den's words are a little tighter than they need to be as brows rise and that eye goes Cita-wards, then D'lei-wards when he shifts long enough to let the younger bronzerider through. Risali's moving forward, to grab the older goldrider and pull her into a hug, arms going around shoulders and holding tight as she leans in with TOO MUCH GUSTO and breathes out, "I think I'm going to vomit," because SHE CAN SMELL R'HYN'S FOOD AGAIN AND THEN YEP. There she goes, CATCHING R'HYN'S PLATTER TO EMPTY HER STOMACH ON because it DESERVED IT and maybe R'HYN DID TOO, and those grey eyes are looking at D'lei first, and then K'vir with the kind of desperation that questions WHY THEY DID THIS TO HER before she starts… crying? "You had a boy? In space?" she says, once she's managed to swallow down enough breath and gumption to PRETEND she isn't crying her face off like an IDIOT after throwing up ALL OVER R'HYN AND HIS FOOD. Ila? Well… he's looking less and less amused, but at least he's still smiling? He'll let Cita answer baby questions. Even if Risali's sobbing out, "I want to have a boy in space too." WELP. WELCOME TO THE PARTY. BETTER START DRINKING NOW.
Cita smells what the Rock is cookng, and it ain't pretty. Not that she's going to say anything about it. Maybe she isn't necessarily Half Moon's Weyrwoman just now, but she still has at least some of the manners, and also, well. She's not pregnant any more, so unlike poor Risa, she can hold it down with some amount of dignity. "Hello." She finally deigns to greet the foreign bronzeriders, squinting a little suspiciously between them and Risa still. Never mind that they're very clearly trying to salvage something, here. Bless. "It's good to see you." The healer adds, cautiously, like she's not real sure whether or not it is. She's very good at ignoring R'hyn's muttering — this is how life goes sometimes, passing by FROM ASTRIDE ILA'S SHOULDER — but not his taste in smells, shooting a vaguely concerned look in his direction. "Riiight." Cita drawls, then twisting to eye Risa some more. Squiiiiiint. Ila allowing the dismount gets an ungraceful kind of lurch, but she steadies herself and huffs impatiently. "Ila, for the love of little baby dragons." Mutter mutter mutter. She might not have muttering on the level of poor, abused R'hyn, but she does kind of roll her eyes and MAYBE stomp ENTIRELY ON ACCIDENT on Ila's foot as she moves to hug Risa tightly. "It's good to see you, even if you look like —" Ohp. There she goes, grabbing R'hyn's platter of Faranth-knows-what, and barfing all over it and him, and Cita tuts sympathetically. "Oh, no, hey," The goldrider starts. Stops. Blinks, mystified for the sudden tears — flashes a quick look up at K'vir and D'lei because WHY THIS??? — before reaching out in an attempt to steady poor Risa. "Ask your them," Maybe crying isn't the best time to tease about Your Two Dads. "About that one, it wasn't my idea." At least she pitches her voice towards soothing, even if she is glaring daggers over at R'hyn and Ila, oNLY BECAUSE IT IS ENTIRELY THEIR FAULT. "…okay. We, uh, can work that out?" HELP. SHE'S MAKING PROMISES SHE PROBABLY CAN'T KEEP. But is she going to stop? Nope! No, why would she do that, squeezing a shoulder bracingly. "You get the first part, and we'll work out the rest, some day." Pat pat. Pat pat.
K'vir would have a LOOK OF RELIEF - oh wait, no, that's definitely it when he turns to spy D'lei enterting now too. Only he's still trying to avoid a complete DISASTER in the kitchen while Risali goes on to create a catastrophe of her own. HELLO AND WELCOME TO THEIR HEL- HOME! Home. There's a sort of wave or gesture of some sort of greeting given to Cita but the bronzerider isn't about to go shouting across the room. There's enough going on, anyhow! Now that Risa's thrown up and crying and… oh boy. This is a dream, right? Some weird quasi nightmare? No? Damn it. Maybe he's wishing he didn't work so fast at keeping the place from burning down either, because now that (what's left of) dinner is saved, he's no reason to be hiding. That - and he has one upset weyrmate. K'vir to the rescue! Kind of. In the form of him appearing with a glass of water for Risa and a gestured tilt of his head to R'hyn and Ila. "Some stuff in the closet over there… to clean." DON'T MAKE A FUSS OF IT. Just do it. NO QUESTIONS! He's going to just try and calm Risa too, though leaves much of it in Cita's (suspicious) hands. "Here." Gently insistent and concerned, but he'll offer that glass. SHE KNOWS THE DRILL! Deep breaths, slow sips. Please don't murder him.
D'lei steps closer to VOMIT RISALI even as she turns away to talk to Cita (and maybe vomit on her, who knows) to lean in and kiss the back of her head, there in the hair. He certainly notices the looks he's getting from Ila'den and Citayla (and, yes, Risali), but it's like he's floating in a serene cloud of not-answering-questioning-eyes. And then he puts the bags down again, this time to reach into his jacket pocket and pull out a handkerchief… which he passes to R'hyn. And another one! Which is offered to Citayla. Does he just keep a supply of them around to mop up Risali's mess? THE ANSWER IS YES. BE PREPARED is not the motto of Deluge Wing, but it would be a pretty good one if it were, now wouldn't it? (Answer: it would.) And, well, as K'vir notes, they have not only cleaning supplies but also clean clothes that may or may not fit. (It's okay, K'vir is a giant scarecrow anyhow.)
It all happens so fast. One minute R'hyn's regaining his feet, brows tucking down beneath the blindfold, so steep is the frown that is swiftly uncovered. "It most certainly is no- How do you even- Are you even rea- No." The next he is turning, following Ila'den's lead to peer towards the heavily-leaning Risali, face twisting up in narrow-eyed math-meme calculation and— WARHGARGARBL. ALL of R'hyn goes tense, from his hair to his very spleen, visibly stiffening along every line he has. "You-" Ohp. Nope. White noise scatters whatever was in the bronzerider's brain, fizzing almost audibly before his eyes go blank, departing somewhere nice where he isn't covered in puke while his face registers a vapid screen to cover the disconnect. We are experiencing some technical difficulties. Please stand by. Tinny elevator music plays. Doo doo doo doo doo, doo do doo do doo deee, dododoo doo doo, doo doo da doo deeaaaand we're back. "-'re pregnant. Con-" Just kidding, he inhaled and smelled the vomit. Tinny elevator music plays again, this time on fast-forwards to get to the good part, apparently, as it takes less time and one mere large swallow to speak again. "-gratulations." He at least seems like he means it, distress and concern finally registering on his features. Oh no there's tears. Oh no there's glares. Oh no there's no way to make this better, with his OFFENDING FACE and OFFENDING VOMSALAD STILL ON DISPLAY AND SO— "Yes. Clean. That. That sounds good. I'll just—" Look around awkwardly for a place to place his dish, move about three or four times indecisively, find nowhere that's good and that won't wind up in potentially eliciting more crying or, WORSE, unleashing THE MURDER, and so he just… takes it outside. HERE, PERN-SEAGULLS. FEAST. "Thank you," is murmured gratefully for the offered kerchief from D'lei, taking it and pawing uselessly at himself while angling as UNOFFENDINGLY AS POSSIBLE towards the CLOSET OF CLEANLINESS. Don't be suspicious, don't-don't be suspicious!
And Ila'den? Well, he's rumbling more of that laughter, unrepentant and EQUALLY UNPERTURBED by Citayla's backsass as she's granted her feet and STOMPS ON HIS FOOT and earns herself what should have been a hiss of pain, but sounds alarmingly like an invitation to do things most inappropriate like make MORE OF THEM BABIES (dragons, GEEZ GUYS) annnnd now the bronzerider's looking decidedly not at all amused when Risali's simultaneously throwing up everything that ever existed in her universe on R'hyn and his food, and K'vir is appearing to tell them where cleaning supplies are. Ila'den's hedging his way towards the closet while Risali MOVES ON TO CRYING ABOUT CRYING and is taking the cup from K'vir, and looking MAYBE LIKE SHE IS GRATEFUL but also MAYBE LIKE SHE IS GOING TO MURDER HIM, and she stifles her internal (pregnant) rage by drinking water in sips instead of putting her hands around K'vir's (or D'lei's or R'hyn's or Ila's) throat while trying to breathe. She's getting kisses to the back of her head, and leaning into them as grey eyes seek out Cita and maybe she leans a little too much because D'lei is suddenly not there, and she's stumbling backward, but… WHATEVER IT IS, she's looking back at Cita without removing the rim of the cup from her mouth and staring at her through tears that say END MY MISERY PLEASE HOW DID YOU DO IT. "I already did," she finally manages, weakly, pulling her mouth away from the cup to look at the handkerchiefs being passed around and reaching out for K'vir and probably D'lei who SHOULD PROBABLY MAKE THEMSELVES SCARCE IF THEY DON'T WANT TO BE THROWN UP ON. "We're having a - " BLLEEEEHHHHHHGHHHH. Yep, there she goes again, Ila'den taking a step back and then rocking forward as impassiveness rules his features. The silence might seem like a good thing, but everybody sans two people in this room probably know Ila well enough to know that that silence doesn't bode well for ANYBODY. CERTAINLY NOT R'HYN, who is trying to CONGRATULATE RISALI ON HER PREGNANCY, and who is getting a look that says DOES IT LOOK LIKE I WANT YOUR CONGRATULATIONS? before she sobs out, "I wanted to say it, you stupid wherry-faced -" BLEEEEEEEEAAARRRGGGGH. Gross. But now she's clinging to Cita and one (both?) of the men in her life as Ila'den looks as if he's pondering the benefits of mutiny, first on K'vir's face, and then on D'lei's, before he chooses the safe route and tries to get supplies from the closet instead. And maybe scrounge up some clothes for R'hyn while he's at it. The alternative is probably murder, and nobody likes murder.
<OOC> Risali says, "MEANT TO INCLUDE HER BEING OFFENDED AT DASH HAVING HANDKERCHIEFS. SHE CRIED AND ASKED INCONSOLABLY IF HE JUST THINKS SHE THROWS UP ON EVERYBODY. HAPPENED."
Thank you." Cita murmurs primly for D'lei, like she's not got little…bits…on her, like she's PERFECTLY TIDY and also not in the least bit stepping in it in order to comfort poor crying Risali. And still kind of flicking wide-eyed looks between K'vir and D'lei like what did you do why is this happening. "Yeah…" For Risa's boys — R'hyn might. Well. He might be in need of some of those supplies. Not that his brain is anywhere near any of them, rather than off in the clouds somewhere safe. Somewhere lacking in puke. You only THOUGHT you were done with the barf, R'hyn! And MAYBE it's a little deserved, because no matter how wide Cita's IXNAY, ABORT eyes, her weyrmate's gone and spilled the beans, and the goldrider kind of. Sighs. Watches Ryn and Ila wander off towards a closet with a pained kind of look. "Please. Don't." She can't finish that, not with Risa clinging to her, just — « IF YOU GET IT ON IN THE CLOSET, CITA WILL KILL YOU. » Ilyscaeth bellows, then goes back to screeching joyously at/with Leirith — oh. Well. That. Cita presses her forehead to Risa's shoulder for just a second, then frees a hand to rub circles on her back, humming under her breath. "Easy, Risa, it's okay." She tries, using her hanky to pat what she can off of the other goldrider's person and shooting D'lei another thankful look. "A baby! That's really good, Risa!" This, at least, she's sure of, smiling beatifically. "You're coming up to the Yokohama with me as soon as you're cleared." She decides, nodding once. "Meet Ciardyn. The healers. If that's where you want to get things done." Maybe she won't be quite so TERRIFIED OUT OF HER MIND if she has somebody to fuss over in addition to a baby. MAYBE. IT COULD HAPPEN. "How far are you? Do you need any healer referrals? Any help?" This, at least, she shares magnanimously with the goldrider's companions, glancing in D'lei's direction with a tilted-up eyebrow.
Does Risali vomit on everyone? …is Leirith joyous at them? D'lei arches his eyebrows at the question given him about WHY DOES HE EVEN CARRY HANDKERCHIEFS, and leans in to slip an arm around her. CAREFULLY. "Only the most deserving." Sorry R'hyn. (But he's right.) "That's why /I/ need to be prepared." Because clearly he is deserving. Of…. vomit, apparently. And also murder? Probably! But hey, at least he's being supportive now, in the sense of letting Risali cling to him. There's a glance past to Ila'den, who gets the faintly stonewalling smile that pretends there is nothing at all wrong. Because this is his bed (well, okay, that's upstairs) and he will lie in it (well, okay, it's more he did lie in it, on a fateful night when - ANYHOW, RISALI'S PARENTAL FIGURES DO NOT NEED TO HEAR DETAILS). But yes. BABY. THERE WILL BE SPAWN. THESE FIGURES WILL BECOME GRAND PARENTAL. In addition to being parental, and also grand, and - thank you, Cita - making good use of handkerchiefs. D'lei knew you were one of the ones with sense around here! And asking if they need help, even better! But D'lei lets Risali answer that one. Mostly. "She's only threatened to murder half of the healers here," he says with a note of pride.
To be fair R'hyn is CHOCK FULL OF REGRETS. Most of them involve the fact that he CLEARLY MISSED CITA'S KILL BILL SIREN EYES in his haste to make his soul depart his body lest he puke right back at Risali out of sheer reflex (sympathy puking man, it's the worst) and NOW HE'S GONE AND SPILLED THE BEANS. "I'm-" Sorry? The worst? BOTH? We legitimately may never know because THERE SHE GOES AGAIN, SHOOTING OFF LIKE A HUMAN FIRE HYDRANT AND R'HYN JUST SORT OF. CHECKS OUT. It's the Hotel California up in this b, because he never quite leaves but there's definitely NO R'HYN HERE TO SPEAK OF. WHO DAT. WHO DIS. « DO NOT WORRY CITAYZLEAT. IT SOUNDS LIKE THERE HAS BEEN ENOUGH 'GETTING ON' IN THIS HOUSEHOLD, » Xermiltoth supplies in R'hyn's absence, beatific heat beaming down into all of their minds, because D'lei won't say it but HE SURE WILL. « I DO NOT THINK R'HYN IS IN ANY SHAPE TO PRACTICE AT MAKING ANOTHER, WITH ILA'DEN OR OTHERWI—» "Okay that's enough. I'm grossed out, not dead," R'hyn says with a twitch, hands waving through the air near his head as though to billow all of his dragon's eye-dazzling thoughts away. Xermiltoth laughs a smug laugh as though this had been his plan all along and withdraws, if only to join in the mental cacophony outside. "Sorry," the bronzerider says, finally finishing that long-abandoned sentence. "I'd offer you a…" Arms lift. Hug? Person to punch? AGAIN BOTH. "But." But there's now an ALARMING AMOUNT OF VOMIT ON HIM, and Ila'den is being the CALM BEFORE THE STORM and fetching him cleaning supplies, and so he drops his arms to his sides again and wisely opts to NOT SAY ANYTHING ELSE JUST NOW. He'll just be over here, staring piteously at Ila because he's gross and MESSING IT ALL UP AND WHAT ARE THIS. « ONLY HALF? THAT IS NOT A HIGH ENOUGH NUMBER. FIGHT THEM ALL, RISALI. » Xermi has no such qualms. « CITAYZLEAT HAS IT RIGHT. USE THE YOKOHAMA HEALERS. THEY MAKE VERY FUNNY FACES WHEN DRAGON HUMMING VIBRATES THEIR SPACE SHIP, » he says with borderline-illegal levels of amusement. Rude.
« MY MINION WISHES TO ADD THAT IF YOU GET IT ON IN THE CLOSET, SHE WILL VOMIT ON ALL OF YOU AND NOT REGRET IT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. » BABUM, BABOOM, BABAM! There's the overly-cheerful gold, much too delighted (and perhaps entirely too disappointed in her minion) to stay out of this conversation despite the fact that she's stuck on the sands, turning over eggs. It does not stop her from screaming with Ilyscaeth in abject enthusiasm, perhaps alerting exactly ALL OF XANADU to the fact that her rider is now VERY MUCH PREGNANT and a BADASS and COME LOOK AT HER EGGS THEY ARE BADASS TOO EVEN IF ELENTH IS A BIT OF A STICK IN THE MUD AND — you get the point. She's even chiming in on Xermiltoth's assertion with giddy exuberance bordering on unnecessary and MUCH TOO OVER THE TOP. BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM. BOOM!!!!! « THAT IS WHAT I TOLD HER, XERMILTOTH. SHE SAID SOMEBODY HAS TO DELIVER THE BABY AND THAT IF THEY WERE ALL DEAD, IT WOULD BE D'LEI OR K'VIR, AND THEY ARE MUCH BETTER AT - » "LEIRITH." Laughter chases the screen aimed towards the highest beams of the house, as if screaming at her dragon externally is necessary when Leirith can hear her mentally and she is so very far away to begin with. Still, there's a hiccup of EXISTING, and then Risali is swallowing down air and feeble laughter, punching D'lei in his arm before murmuring the TIMELESS CLASSIC OF, "Shut up, D'lei," because he deserves it, and then she's clinging to Cita a little more and turning a little more green because SHUT UP XERMI. ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW. « YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH ON-GETTING THERE IS. ONE TIME, THE WERE ALL ON THE - WHAT IS THIS MINION? NO, IT IS NOT CALLED THE LEIRITH, THAT WOULD BE PREPOSTEROUS - THE THING THAT HELPS THEM TO NOT FALL TO THEIR DEATHS AND THEY - » "LEIRITH I WILL END YOU." Unnecessary, and probably sure to take out at least ONE of Cita's eardrums. She's got a fistful of D'lei's tunic now, and her face buried in Cita, and she's trying REALLY HARD to pretend like they are just talking about HAVING BABIES and not MAKING babies. EVEN IN THEIR HEADS. DASH. "I would like that," Risali whispers to the healer, and nods her head, laughing again at D'lei and maybe striking out a hand to punch him once more. "And if they didn't tell me that I can't do things, I wouldn't have to threaten them." And those eyes are on R'hyn, and she's suddenly green again, because he is covered in vomit and - ILA TO THE RESCUUUUUE. The older bronzeriders got those new clothes, and he's got a washcloth with a liberal amount of soap on it to try and appease the Gods of Stench extended for his weyrmate - whom he is making no moves towards. "Cita," comes that husky voice on an accented burr. "You act as if we haven't already used Risali's closet for just that." ANNNNND that grey eye is locking on D'lei as unimpressed stares are met with stonewall smiles - the kind that inspire wolfish grins and the kind of posturing that says he might be going feral. "Congratulations to you all," he tells the three of them AND THEN HE'S TURNING ON HIS HEELS, to step outside. It looks badass and rude, but really it's probably just to escape the vomit (which he can't really, because now there's a feast for the sea birds outside, and they're gathering it up in great gobbles of disgusting that leave bits of it littered EVERYWHERE, GROSS). "There's a guest room, R'hyn," Risali says faintly, too busy burying her face in Cita AND D'lei simultaneously to know if she's REALLY pointing at the guest room, or just the wall. "And then we can eat…?"
Xermiltoth's the recipient of something that might be a mental high-five from Ilyscaeth, or might be some sort of remonstration, either way it's served up with a generous splash of color that the whole Weyr probably gets treated to. Good job, Ily. Disruptive. Rude. "Xermi." Cita, meanwhile, presses a thumb to the bridge of her nose, shaking her head against Risa's shoulder. Ryn just gets an expression that might well be patience, but probably only because he's currently covered in sick and Cita feels maybe a little bad for the poor guy. "XERMI." Not for the ass-beating Xermi's going to get if she starts barfing too, though, because she's looking a little green around the gills, eyes closing tightly for a moment. "I'm not remembering that, Xermiltoth." D'lei's smile gets a snort on her way to tucking her head briefly against Risa's shoulder, eyes a'rolling. "Only half of them?" The healer repeats, maybe a little proudly, snickering to herself. "Not bad. You're doing great, sweetheart." Cita hums, happily, firmly ignoring Xermi's insistance that Risa fight the rest of them. Nope. Nope nope. « LEIRITH, TELL ME ABOUT THE EGGS. » Ilyscaeth somehow has the presence of mind to attempt at distraction, or perhaps Cita threatened her within an inch of her life too, as she gives one massive twitch in Ila's general direction. NOT LISTENING TO YOU, ILA'DEN. "Your brother is beautiful. I can't wait for you to see him." She laughs, sharing the goldrider with D'lei happily enough, still pat-patting gently. "Let them get cleaned up and we'll eat!" Yeah! That's what they'll do! That's exactly what they'll do, and definitely without any further incidents of puking brought on by whatever's been, uh. Cooked. If you can call it that. Not that Cita could do any better at all. "Do you have ginger tea for the nausea, Risa? I can bring you what's left of mine for now."
How is it that D'lei is not also tempted to puke? There is a secret to that. It's called "shaking down a healer for anti-nausea meds, the good ones, the ones that they can't give Risali because they might not be good during pregnancy, but D'lei is not pregnant and is also a Wingleader and knows how to glare at a healer AND has the good sense to do it in Monaco where word is less likely to get back to Risali that he did this thing, not that he has any secrets, really, because HAVE YOU MET LEIRITH? but even so, SUBTLETY, IT IS A THING". So yeah, he's doing okay, and contributes his part of pettings to Risali's hair and leaning-surface for her body. And being deafened, both in and out of his brain, because SUBTLETY is … not a thing that certain dragons have heard about. But food! Eating it! He's heard of that, and he nods his agreeproval for Citayla's proposed plan, adding for his part, "I brought some of that sweet applemint cider." By which he does NOT mean the sort with booze in, but instead the sort that is made of APPLES and probably some herbs but is mostly VAGUELY APPLE AND MINT FLAVORED SUGAR WATER which means that it stands a chance of being actually digested rapidly enough by Risali that she will get some nutrients into her before the next time she throws up, while ALSO being flavored enough that he too is willing to drink it and she does not FEEL that she is being given healer-approved nutritional supplements EVEN THOUGH SHE IS. …okay, so she does feel that way sometimes, but not ALL THE TIME and THEY TAKE WHAT THEY CAN GET, OKAY???
« THAT SOUNDS LIKE A CHALLENGE, » Xermiltoth sings right back into Leirith's mind, anticipation in his tone and amusement in sparks that strike through Ilyscaeth's colors. On a scale of one to THE EXORCIST, just how pukey can they make this encounter?! He doesn't push the subject, though, and neither does R'hyn - the bronzerider does his best to pretend his dragon doesn't even exist, earning a rush of amused diamonds for himself and Cita both, along with the distinct impression that he'll take himself somewhere he is wanted, then. « I AM COMING TO SEE THESE BABIES. I HEAR YOUR CLUTCHFATHER WAS ALSO OF HALF MOON. HE IS MY BROTHER AND HE IS AN AS—XCELLENT FLIER, YES, THANK YOU R'HYN BUT WHAT DO I CARE ABOUT ELENTH'S FEELINGS, HE CARES LITTLE FOR OURS. » As for on-getting, « THAT SOUNDS ACROBATIC. I WOULD WARN YOUR MINES TO BE CAREFUL. ONCE MY MINES TRIED TO HAVE RELATIONS IN A HAMMOCK AND R'HYN'S ANKLE STILL HURTS HIM WHEN A STORM IS COMING IN. » "And on that note," the rider in question sighs, only too glad that the dragon is taking off to visit Leirith and her eggs, hoping beyond hope this means talk will turn to THEM instead of THIS INTENSE AWFULNESS as soon as possible. "I'm just going to pretend you never said that," he says to any one of them really, neither CONFIRMING NOR DENYING ILA'S REPORT, "and go change. I'm sorry, gents, but I'm going to need to borrow…" He trails off, looking down himself with a press of his lips. "A lot." His mouth opens to add on to Ila's congrats, but THAT DIDN'T GO SO HOT LAST TIME so he gives up again and follows Risali's pointing with his eyes, eyes that squint hard when she does indeed point at a blank wall. "Ahm…" It's fine. He can figure it out. It's ONE OF THESE ROOMS, SURELY. "Don't start without me, yeah?" Not that he's in ANY MOOD TO EAT JUST YET, but it's an attempt at being nice, teeth flashing in a brief, weak grin, brushing the absolute cleanest finger against Ila's sleeve as the bronzer EXITS STAGE LEFT and R'hyn goes to explore what hopefully is NOT the study because that's the last thing D'lei needs to happen upon when those meds wear off!
Annnnnnd WHAT HAS BECOME OF THEM. WHAT HAS BECOME OF THIS DINNER, AND THIS SURPRISE, AND THIS EVERYTHING. Risali's looking at Citayla like the healer's affectionate validations are putting her right back on the cusps of hysterics and unnecessary tears, nodding her head as she clings tight to the older woman and forces out, "I want to meet him. And four months. I'm four months pregnant." LIP WIBBLE. "I want to hold him. Can I hold him when I meet him?" And maybe she's lifting her head to look at Dash with TAKE ME TO THE MOON eyes because BABIES ARE IN SPACE and she can TOTALLY GO ON A SHIP PREGNANT, CITA HAD A GD BABY UP THERE and IF YOU TELL HER NO, YOU'RE GOING TO RELEARN WHY THEY CALL HER (and by they, we mean R'hyn) A HELLCAT. And then D'lei is mentioned DELICIOUS FOOD, and thankfully NOT THE FACT THAT HE IS ON GOOD MEDICATION that she CANNOT HAVE, but knows ALL ABOUT, and sometimes is GRATEFUL FOR EXISTING, and sometimes HATES D'LEI FOR, but definitely has nothing to do with Applemint Cider that Risali can probably keep down. "I don't have any, but I'll go get some tomorrow." Risali tells Cita, "And whatever you can spare would be great." « It is always a challenge! » Leirith booms, bombastic by her very nature… and a bit shy? WHO IS THIS DRAGON? XERMI IS COMING TO SEE HER BABIES? IGNORE THE EXPLOSION OF SOUND THAT'S PROBABLY JUST LEIRITH HYPERVENTILATING DRAGON-WISE BECAUSE HAVE YOU HEAR XERMI DROP A BEAT AND — « THEY ARE BADASS. PERHAPS ONE DAY I WILL CATCH YOU, AND WE CAN MAKE BADASSES, AND THEY WILL BE — » she just keeps going, forever, rambling into infinity and still somehow managing to illustrate to Ilyscaeth that SHE SHOULD COME LOOK TOO because HER BABIES ARE AWESOME AND MUST BE GRACED BY HER NUMBER ONE TRUE LOVE. ANYWAY, THE POINT IS THAT R'HYN (sweet R'hyn) GOES AWAY SOMEWHERE TO GET DECENT, and Ila'den returns with bits of Risa-vom bird-delivered except that JOKE IS ON THEM BECAUSE HE WAS IN HIS JACKET HA and he manages not to end D'lei in the faceplace, and not to trail R'hyn into the room to do horrible and unspeakable things that would make Cita shame them for the rest of their lives and possibly join Risali in vomiting and leaving D'lei in a sea of lady-vomit which is NOT the reaction that man deserves because have you seen D'lei and ANYWAY. THEY HAVE DINNER AT SOME POINT. A GOOD DINNER. THE BEST DINNER. In which Risali CRIES ABOUT NOT BEING ABLE TO EAT, and everybody else probably tries their hardest to pretend like they're enjoying the poison Risali created out of spite via K'vir challenges so as not to make her burst into more tears and possibly grab the nearest, sharpest object to go on a murderous rampage with. Leirith is hanging out with all her hotties. LIFE IS GOOD. LIFE IS SO VERY GOOD.