Morlanol shrieks like a girl. It is quickly becoming clear that the juvenile is under the influence. "It may be jus' a fli', bu' i's comin' righ' t' me!"
- Ale Puddle Fun
"Not me, I don't want a girl, she'll just try to hold me down or make me grow up, bleck." Morlanol makes a face, sticking his tongue out and scrunching up his brows
- Package Sorting and 'Girl Talk'
Morlanol's eyes go even wider, clearly caught completely off-guard by the offer, "Be a candidate? Bu' I… I mean… Yeah, I'd love t'. I di'n't know I was even ol' enough. D'you really mean it?" He's begun running his words together in excitement, "An' yeah, a bath's no pro'lem an' I have a few quar'er marks layin' aroun' I coul' use t' buy clothes." He turns back to Vwayath, "Are y' serious? I mean, coul' I really stand?"
- A Special Turnday Present
Yontal is laughing hard by this point as Morlanol mumbles a hurried "sorry" his face turning a deep shade of scarlet as he leans in the rest of the way and kisses her on the lips.
Cenlia is too surprised to jump back, having been distracted by Yontal, the girl letting out a startled, "Mmmaubgh!" noise when she gets kissed. Cenlia does the first thing that comes to mind: Cenlia brings one knee up. Hard. On her shoulder, a very loud Charmer chitters at Morlanol, wings flapping in both their faces as Cenlia flails and tries to shove Morlanol backwards.
Yontal bursts into laughter, slapping his knee hard as he does so before making a conspicuous exit to avoid the after-events. Morlanol's eyes get as big as saucers when Cenlia hits him. He makes a very quiet 'eep' sound and is easily pushed backwards by her shove. He topples straight back, landing on the thankfully empty cot next to hers. There is a moment of utter silence save for Charmer's sqwauking before he begins to howl in pain, tears streaming down his face. He manages to splutter out, "I said I was sorry!"
- Wetness, Kissing, and Pain
Morlanol looks somewhat taken aback, "I… well… I di'n' wan' t'. Y' go'a know tha'. Bu' Yontal said I had ta since I los' th' bet. I was jus' gonna ask Cen t' tell him I had an not do it, bu' then he decided t' come watch 'n' I had ta. Otherwise th was gonna throw me in th' trash midden. 'Course tha' might've been better 'cause then y'all wouldn' be mad a me an' my jewels wouldn' hurt so bad. I tried t' 'pologize, bu' she wouldn' listen. I don' wanna kiss any girl, Cen or no… bu' he made me." Morlanol sounds serious when he says he didn't want to and that he won't do it again. Keeping his focus on Ro, just in case, he calls over his shoulder to Ruzel, "Sorry 'bou' th' wa'er, Ruz… I had t' bathe Tam'sth and he likes t' dunk people."
- Confrontation and Chores
Morlanol continues to feed the little blue, "How c'n y' say y' were curs'd? I's like havin' a frien' who'll always be there. An' they're like gems, a sm'll range o' colors bu' a wide range o' details."
- Lizards and Love Letters
Morlanol continues to stroke his flit, "Flowers? Naw, no' m' style. If'n i' were me, it woulda been a frog or summat."
- Lizards and Love Letters
Morlanol grins proudly, pointing his thumb at his chest as he says, "I'm a miner, so I've crawled ou' of a lo' of holes. Bu' bein' a can'date is nice, too."
Vivian's eyes roll up at that admission. "Oh shells, a miner." It's possible to see the immediate sense of loathing that comes to her face. "I'll give you a piece of advice right now, keep yourself away from me." She tells him, "You're probably no better than a Wher. Filthy disgusting creatures that they are." Oblivious to any insult, intended or not she turns on her heel and starts to walk away, lifting her water to her lips again for another drink as she stalks away.
Agate pokes his head out of Morlanol's coveralls and gives a sleepy hiss at Vivian as Morl starts to turn away, obviously no longer interested in her either. He calls back over his shoulder, "Y' migh' as well stay 'way from me, too. Yer mean as an old wher."
- Ugh a Miner!
Morlanol straightens up, releasing his touch on the egg with a soft 'hmph.' He stands for a moment, contemplating again, before moving on. Nearby lays an egg of bright, changing color. He reaches for QUITE A LARGE MESS EGG before he even realizes he's moved, both hands following the lines along its surface.
Morlanol strokes the egg, his unfocused eyes examining it closely even as he whispers softly to it, "You won' be 'lone fer long, li'tle one." He shifts down to one knee, eyeing the egg almost reverently.
Morlanol sighs wistfully for the moment, continuing to nearly hug the egg in a comforting, friendly manner. He hmmms softly to the poor egg, whispering, "It'll all be okay one day."
Morlanol continues stroking the egg, tears streaming down his face now, even as he continues to mutter, "It'll be okay, li'tle one, y'll have someone t' share yer burden wit' soon."
Morlanol stands slowly, wiping the tears from his eyes as he does so. One last sniffle and the crying is over. he gives the egg one last, sorrowful look and a soft pat as he steps away from it. He stands for a moment, alone with his thoughts.
- Avaeth's Clutch: Egg Touching
Chaton sits up and reaches out to scritch the head presented to him. "Alright, alright." he says, scritching good. "Whose a good fellow? Whose a good little fellow?" he coos.
Faraeth lets out a strong breath, wuffling the healer's clothing, nearly a draconic snort. M'nol chuckles, coming closer, nearly into view, "He says he's a dragon, not a canine."
- Mind-Healing the Weyrlings
she does turn back to M'nol all smiles again. "Just wondering, see come graduation, you'll need to learn to dance properly, because there is the possibility we may all have to dance at least once with each other, and I for one will likely stab you with a hairpin if you stand on my dress and rip it." She says it so nicely. "So get up and lets see how good you actually are." She waves a hand imperiously at him, her outfit may not be the best for getting up close to the miner, but some sacrifices have to happen and it's baths next for Kelioth so she's not that bothered.
M'nol waves a hasty goodbye to Tali, then stands, "I wouldn' tear your dress, Vivian." When she motions for him to dance with her, he glances her over once, possibly checking for weapons, then approaches with a bow, "M'lady?" Oooooh, he's being nice… maybe *he*'s the one with the weapon. Or maybe it's because he only stands a little above her chest…
Vivian growls back at Keziah, "Now nothing, we, all of us have to ensure that each and every one of us goes through graduation flawlessly." She explains more evenly before turning her attention back to M'nol. "You say that but all of us girls will be wearing them probably and I'd rather be safe than sorry for a graduation dress." I.e. it's likely to be a one of a kind and expensive in her case. She dips a polite curtsy at his greeting and holds out her hand to him. "Just keep your eyes off of my boobs and looking into my eyes and we'll see how well you do." She says, taking him into a formal hold, course the shirts she wears aren't the best for being able to keep to that instruction.
M'nol steps forward, accepting Viv's hands gently in his own. He really does do his best to look into her face, only sneaking a couple of peeks. He smiles, leading with a small step with his left foot, "I hope our graduation goes best as can be. An' I don' wanna be 'barrassed by damaging someone else least as much as you don' wanna be 'barrassed by beain' stepped on."
"It's not so much the stepped on that worries me." Replies Vivian as she moves herself gracefully through the dance, only the once shifting a hand to flick a finger under his chin to bring his gaze back to eyelevel instead of chest level. "Eyes are up here." She chides gently even if it is likely to leave him with confused dreams. "Stand on one of those dresses, it tears and there could be a whole other reason for being embarrassed depending on where it rips."
M'nol allows himself to be adjusted, "Sorry… they're a little distractin'." He moves relatively fluidly, if not so gracefully as Viv, "Well, I promise tha' in th' even' tha' I mis-step, I'll provide th' human sheild fer your honor."
"Little?" Murmurs Vivian as if it was an insult to the size of her chest, even if she is less than a handful, that's not the point. She does continue the dance though, swishing her way through the moves like an almost pro. "If you do, just make sure and keep your neck exposed to make it easier to stick a hairpin in you." She replies in an ever so sweet tone of voice as the dance ends and she steps back, still holding his hand as is proper as she dips into a curtsy.
M'nol nods, "A little, they keep jigglin' and distractin' me." Wow, innocence. He finishes the dance out, stumbling only a little once, his feet catching on the edge of a cot, but he manages to make it look almost intentional, "'Snot like I have anything t' cover it up with, but I think someone migh' have an objection t' tha'… someone 'sides me." He steps back as well, bowing and kissing her hand ever-so-gently, "M'lady." At least the harpers taught him curtesy… tact? not so much.
"Of course they jiggle, they're boobs!" She replies with a shake of her head, it's easy to tell he's young, and unfortunately on eye level with hers. Kids are so short these days. Vivian lets him raise her hand for the kiss before she retrieves it and scrumptiously wipes it on her shorts. "If you can learn to keep your eyes on your partners you'll do fine by us." She tells him, admitting indirectly that he's not that bad as she sashays back over to her cot and sits down on the end of it, eyeing the buckle that she now has to stitch the leather round.
M'nol steps back, grinning a little, "So that's what they're called? My older brothers called them chest-dragons…" He lets that comment linger for a moment, nodding his thanks at her admission that he wasn't a horrid dancer before saying, "Thanks, you're not so bad yourself," and retreating to his own cot and continuing his work on his own straps, pounding another hole into his strap. Faraeth intends to speak to M'nol, but his excitement causes him to think a bit too braodly. The silk and velvet ruffle confusedly, colored a faded orange, « chest… dragons…? They're much to small to be dragons. Maybe chest flits… »
Vivian sighs a little at the descriptions and there's a bit of a wince when Kelioth relays what Faraeth just said. "You may want to stop him on that note before he's broadcasting images from your head of my chest all over the weyr." She tells M'nol before picking up the buckle of the strap and retrieving the needle and thread to start stitching the leather together.
- Girly Talk and Fantasies
Vivian sighs when she hears that little bit of news, "That's certainly got nothing to do with what Faraeth was passing out, we all know you quite like her, but that dream was bordering on very naughty." She tells him calmly, not showing any preferred emotion over her statement while she stitches, though she is watching him out of the corner of her eye to catch the reaction.
M'nol gulps, blushing hugely, "Oh… *that*… I, uh…" He trails off, thinking for a momen. He pounds two more holes to avoid having to answer, then mutters quietly, "He started it…"
Vivian giggles a bit at that reaction. "I'm just wary of you comparing me with her in your dreams again." She states flatly, still remaining ever so calm. "Especially with your little bit of jiggly privilege earlier." She's trying not to laugh really she is and has to duck her head down and bend to her work, yep she's sewing, honest, look her hand is even shaking the slight quiver in her voice at the effort could be taken entirely the wrong way though.
M'nol snerks, his face still bright red, "I'll try no' to…" He bends to his own work. hammer hammer hammer… He looks up, nearly purple with flush, "Uh… which dream was it you saw…?"
Vivian takes a deep breath to stop herself shaking, get that composure back before she can dare to look at him again. "Which one!" She asks, jaw opening slackly as she stares across at him. "That suggests that you have multiple dreams involving me!" Astonished.
M'nol's blush inexplicably manages to deepen. He scratches the back of his head, "I… welll… uh… um…" hammer hammer hammer. "Ummm… two with you an' Cen…" There's a definite implication he's obscuring something… poor boy, too honest for his own good sometimes.
Vivian continues to stare at him. "Now wait there, what kind of sick fantasies are you involving me in." She demands as her things get placed down on the cot with a thump, that needles likely to be found later the hard way. She gets up and stalks over to him, some purpose obviously in mind.
M'nol looks up at Viv with wide, worried eyes, waving his hands back and forth in front of him. "Jus' th' one with th' matin' fligh' 'n' th' one wi'ou'…"
Vivian stalks over to him and she does indeed have a purpose, to hear him out, though he doesn't get very far with his explanation, mating flight is about as far he gets before she snarls and swings for him, it's a beauty of a slap, D'son can testify to how strong her right arm is and that was before all this weyrling training. "Don't even dare think about that again, do you hear me." She pretty much screams at him. "I do not want to be the object of your fantasies."
- Girly Talk and Fantasies