OOC: Log - Minka gets /told/!
Phrederik tells Minka /off/. That's a first! Read on: Amusing!
Living Cavern
The smooth, rounded walls cavern sweep upward from an oval base, two dragonlengths long and one wide, large enough to seat every member of the Weyr at mealtimes. The soft blackness of the lava which forms these caverns swallows glowlight, so shelves for glowbaskets abound, dotting the walls every three or four paces and casting gentle greenish light toward the sparkles of gold volcanic glass embedded in the ceiling. Ancient, lustrous tables run along the axis of the cavern, and at the far end rests the raised dais and high table, where Weyrleaders and honored guests eat during formal occasions. Behind the high table, the Weyr's symbol is embedded into stone: a smoking mountain in black on... [look closer]
Perched near the food are twenty-seven firelizards.
You see Tray of Meat Rolls and Cookies, Firelizard Tapestry, and Phrederick here.
You notice Talara asleep here.
Deaglan and Lynzi are here.
Obvious exits:
Northeast Caverns Kitchens Bowl Southern Caverns
Phrederick smirks at Deaglan. "Don't let them girls bother you. They aren't doing anything original or intelligent." He reiterates with a shudder, before abruptly changing topic. "So how're you finding chores and candidacy and the like?" He asks still working his way through his barely diminished plate.
The girls decide that they are tired of the scene in the caverns, and if cute boys are to be found, they might just be on the beach. Packing up, Lynzi makes sure to saunter past Deag and Phred's table, nodding to both all too politely, "Pretty boy. Not so pretty boy." As to who the commends were meant for is unknown, and Lynzi quickly disappears with her group of giggling girls.
Lynzi walks to the Southern Caverns.
"/They/ don't. /She/ does." Lan says pointing towards Lynzi's back,"It's more the way she's treated my family. Can be rude all you like to me but she messed with my family." He says quite simply. This is why the witch must BURN! Although if he ever finds out about the incident where one of his family got yelled at for trying to be polite...
Minka is brushed past by Lynzi and the gaggle of giggling girls. She frowns, watching them leave, shuffled to the side. Waiting, with arms folded irritably actross her chest, Minka then stalks forward, polite smile nowhere to be seen this afternoon. Deaglan is spotted first, the candidate approached, "Hello." Weary. "Can I sit?" Though her pleasantly-rounded buttox is already slid into place, a brief grin spared for the young man Lan converses with already. Glance. Facial hair. Hrm. Nice monobrow ya' got growing.
Phrederick shrugs. "I guess growing up big and hairy makes ya kinda immune to that kinda thing. If she tried that on my family..." Well needless to say, Lynzi probably wouldn't take on one of Phredericks family, let alone all of them. "Please do." He gestures with his grubby, yet elegant hand. "I'm Phrederick. But you can call me Phred." He takes a breath. "I have the mind of a 15 turn old boy." He claims before smirking. "In a jar, on my desk at home." He's kidding really.
"Hello again Minka! Go ahead and have a seat. That /girl/ was being herself again." Lan says smiling a bit at the other candidate. "So far how many of my family have you gotten to meet Minka? I know Neana and Eym." He says thoughtfully.
Minka kind of stares at Phrederick, "Well met, Phred. Where abouts is your family from?" Probably High Reaches. That would explain the extensive hair coverage, y'see. Keeps out the cold. A laugh is drowned out as Minka hurriedly pours a glass of water, taking a semi-gurgled sip. Calm. Just don't look at single line of hair on the forehead. Maintaining a cool disposition, Min asks, "Talking about that girl, eh? Lynzi did you say her name was." A brief look is spirited back to where the gigglers disappeared. Good riddance. Deaglan returns her attention, "Hrm? Oh, was she just. Glad I missed the worst of it then. I think I've met about four. But I have been told there's a good ten or so more I haven't met yet." Or a thousand. They're everywhere!
Phrederick smiles, then gets right back to his eatin'. "Uh, Telgar." He answers before shovelling more tubers into his maw. Chewing he watches the conversation, before speaking once more. "You've got that many siblings? I bet you couldn't swing a feline without giving offense to at least one of 'em." Charming. Then he's back to eating.
"I have one little brother by blood but via my fostering, which have become as much family as my blood since I've been all but raised by Shayla, so she's kinda become 'Mother', I have about thirteen. N'ano has sired more than his share of children." Lan says laughing a bit,"Don't care so much about the older ones but the lil ones I don't like folks messing with. Them and Neana."
Minka nods, "Ah I see." That works too. As the question is raised with Deaglan, Minka turns her head to watch the boy answer, chin rested on her hand, "Thirteen. Thought that's what that young boy said. Think his name was Kiano." If she's wrong, it's simply because she snatched it from another conversation in passing. Those tubers are eyed, ravenously so. Gurgle. This is punishment for relying on sweets as supplement enough for dinner.
Phrederick munches on oblivious to pretty much anything else. Tubers, meat, greens, bread, It's all getting packed away with gusto. "Oh it's one of those weyr families." He responds cryptically. "Good for you, good for you." He continues absently. "it's all good." Okay yeah the food has most of his attention for the time being.
"Kiano... That would be N'ano's little boy with Kia I believe." Lan says scratching at his temple a little bit, eyes flickering a little bit,"I've only met the kid a couple times. He doesn't come by mother's often so I never really got a chance to meet him. If he's anything like Naela, he's a handful though. Weyr families? Guess one could say that's what the issue is. "Yeah. It is a Weyr Family. It's kinda nice. I wouldn't want a small family." He says laughing a little bit.
Minka gets up from the table, a little too overwhelmed by the aroma of food it would seem. She picks up a plate, a few things her and there selected from atop the hearth - all the ingredient for a sandwich it would seem. Upon her return she settles back into her seat next to Deaglan, fork picked up and shoved into a small peice of meat. Eating with great relish, she catches the last strains of Lan's words, "He's a bit on the.. Outspoken side, you could say. Got Sorcha scratching her head too, with his funny little manners."
Phrederick doesn't really have anything else to add to the conversation at the moment, its all about people he doesn't know. So he eats some more, apparently his larger-than-normal body, comes complete with a larger than normal stomach.
"So he's a bit of a chatterbox?" Lan asks laughing a little bit,"Knowing Naela, it's entirely possible." He says laughing a little bit. "Just be glad that I'm in one of my 'good' moods. I kinda creeped someone out the other day when I was not having a good one."
"Just a little. He managed to sneak right up on me whilst I was inspecting yesterday's stew. Got myself a nice bump on the head for it too." Min raises a finger tentatively, prodding the back of her head, "Ah well, no harm." She looks to Deaglan for a moment, "Is that so. Why?" Munching on a breadstick, she watches him. Unlike Phred, her body wasn't built for high input - rather it's accomodated her eating habits. Ooh, tuber.
The smile fades from Lan's face, his eyes become rather still for a moment,"There are things in life that can be explained, and those that must be experienced. One cannot use the same situation for more than one person, and did you have a Healer look at the bump. You could have cause more injury then you realize."
Phrederick has almost completed his meal. Finally! Clearing his throat he stands abruptly and wanders off, returning moments later with a glass of juice. It appears that even though he has nothing significant to add, he is enjoying himself. "Good juice." See nothing significant.
Minka shoots Deaglan a funny look, both concerning his answer to her query and his own question, "It's a bump. And I'm still alive. Don't concern yourself. If I start seeing spots in front of my eyes, /then/ I will go to a Healer." Crunch. A particularly crunchy part of her breadstick is chomped upon, sending a spray of flakes falling down. Distraction, she bends down a little, brushing them off, her muffled response rising from beneath the table, "Redfruit, is it?"
Sighing a little bit,"It's time for me to get a little nap in before I go back to working the infirmary. By the way, sometimes you have issues without the little spots." Lan says standing up and then bowing slightly,"Just a little warning on that. Anyway, I have enjoyed both of your company immensely but I really am quite tired."
Phrederick offers a big-handed wave for Deaglan. "See ya little fella Lan." Yeah he can say that, he's big and tall and very hairy. "Yeah redfruit, and some other juices, I just poured a little of every pitcher into my glass." Yeah Phred lives dangerously.
Minka returns from her crumb-dusting expedition, hurriedly sending a wave after the rapidly departing form of Deaglan, "See you later." She rights herself then, straightening her shirt and turning to gaze at Phred, "So, it tastes good?" She's skeptical, "I think I'll stick to plain old redfruit today." Considering her water is all-but gone, she refills her glass with the pitcher of golden juice. Oh yeah, truly living life on the edge there, Phred.
Phrederick winks. "I said that already didn't I?" He counters with a question of his own. "Plain is boring." He points out, because drinking juice should always be a taste adventure. Other than that he's not really a major contributor to the whole conversation thing.
A little ruffled by the wink, Minka pushes her glass towards Phrederik, "All right then, I'll be the judge of that." She nods towards the other pitchers, "Stun me." Yup. Minka's totally cool and dangerous too. /Not/.
Phrederick quirks a brow. "Uh?" Uh-oh Minka went and confused the Phred. "Stun you? I don't understand." He blinks owlishly at her a time or two. Bad Minka, no cookie.
Minka frowns, a little confused herself that Phred's confused. Confusion abounds! She taps her glass, then points to the pitchers, "Your little recipe? Of mixing the juices?" Then a little more bluntly, "Can you make it for me?" No cookie? Bap. Bad hairy Phred.
Iya strides swiftly in from the Southeastern Bowl.
Phrederick shrugs. "There is no recipe. Just pour, pour, pour, pour really." He explains. "It really wouldn't be too exciting if you knew exactly what you were going to get before you drank it would it?" It's about as philosophical as he gets
Minka takes back the glass, nearing a scowl, "Oh fine." Redfruit will do. She's too tired to engage in extremely unintellectual conversations with hairy men, "I suppose not." She shifts in her seat, squirming over to the middle and squelching back comfortably, "Plus. I'm sure there's really not much difference, anyway." No - really, she's just put out about the whole thing.
Fango walks, cane tapping the floor ahead of him, in from the Southeastern Bowl.
Iya strides in alongside of Fango, woman partially soaked, all on her bottom half and some of her upper torso, but looking fairly uncaring, "I have no idea what they serve up anymore in the Weyr.." The short woman shares with Fango as a slight aside, "I rarely eat here.." A nod is given to the few people she may know here, and a searching look to those that she doesn't, as if trying to place them, "Ah. Stew."
Phrederick quirks his brow again. "No-one said you had to do it. I only said plain was boring." And thusly he's decided that Minka wants him. Baad. "No need to get your ti...er knickers in a knot." See he does have some form of social editting.
Minka sniffs, pointedly, sipping at her juice. "Mmn. /It's good/." There's a look towards Phrederick, scorn - scorn for the multijuice. The next phrase to come out of Phrederick's mouth is met with a gape of her own, "Goodness me, what a way to speak to a young lady. I suppose this is how you charm all of them, is it?" Huff. Arms are folded across her chest, now she's decided Phred wants her. She's knows it. Therefore, the bosom is concealed from any potential perving. Iya and Fango are noted belatedly, soaked forms given a once over. Stew. Good choice. Back to Phrederick, she sips from her glass again. I'm on to you, buddy.
"Stew is good," Fango comments, following alongside Iya into the living caverns, rather drier than she is. He mostly ignores the people around him, since no one sounds particularly familiar, and focuses on heading for food. Stew and juice is good, so he ends up with a bowl and glass of each, and then waits for Iya to choose a table. "So what exactly was it you wanted to talk about?" he wonders.
Phrederick harumphs. "Don't have much time for girls. They're all just a bunch of silly attention-seekers." Apparently Minka isn't a girl, or is a silly attention seeker. "It could have been worse. I honestly can't believe that you've lived as long as you look like you have and haven't heard, or spoken anything worse that knicker. Most knickers aren't all that interesting either." Yep it's getting all so very intellectual now.
"That renegade you decided to allow to sleep in /my/ weyr." Iya states, tone of voice nonchalant, woman perhaps not wanting to cause a ruckus in the middle of the living caverns, "I'm honestly wondering what you were thinking about when you invited him to do so." She herself has picked up a bowl of stew as well, and a glass of juice, mirroring Fango's choice, "Especially seeing as my son sleeps there." She sniffs lightly, slight smile curving lips then as she finally heads towards a table, chair pulled out with one hooked foot, her bottom settling into it then as she drops her bowl on the table top, "So? Enlighten me? Canllaith isn't the happiest wave in the sea either because of it."
Minka isn't a girl. She's a woman - hear her roar, "Well, that's even more rude isn't it. You think I'm an attention seeker?" Major blush. She sips her juice, angrily. If you've ever seen someone sip juice angrily, you'll know, it's quite menacing, "Where I come from, no matter what age or rank you hold; you at least have the common decency to be polite to ladies." Frown, "And it's not dependant on their entertainment value either." And, Phred obviously hasn't seen many. After all, you can get spotty, stripy, friily, lacy and so much more.
Fango stiffens a little, slightly defensive. "Well, he didn't have anywhere better to sleep," he responds. "And... I kind of thought it was our weyr, since I /was/ living there too. But I suppose I can move out if you don't want me there anymore." So much for him being in a cheery mood. He falls silent as he follows her to the table, juggling walking cane and dinner until he gets there and settles successfully into a chair. "He's not bad, okay? He's a good kid, and if I thought he was going to hurt anything, I'd be the first to get him away from Isaek."
Phrederick shrugs. "Where I come from we're all to busy doing useful stuff to worry about polite. You should hear my Ma, she'd make your toenails blush." He points out. "Politeness is just people pretending to give a wherries arse if you ask me." Well at least he's talking now. It appears drinking your juice menacingly is an invitation to converse further on the subject.
Iya snorts suddenly, a spoon stabbed into her bowl as she eyes Fango from her seat near him, "Don't get dramatic, Fango. And just because we share a weyr does not mean you can let any little raggamuffin into it. It's /ours/. I don't let bloody drunk riders crash there after a nights worth of drink therapy." A slew of words delivered in a low annoyed whisper, that stew mashed around before she finally takes a bite. Then she's silent for a while, chewing meat chunks and other bits identifiable as food, "You /ask/. And you know he makes Canllaith upset, and if he's upset /I'm/ upset. And if I'm upset then this parasite inside me is upset." You know, that thing known as ~spawn~, "And he doesn't look as if he bathes." She adds sullenly, "And he smells like an old person." All justifiable reasons not to like someone.
"Being polite is useful. It gets you places." Sage nod. "I see." So it's like that, runs in the family, does it? "And I don't pretend. I really do." Well, Minka doesn't give a wherries arse, obviously, because she doesn't have any. Or the desire to hunt one down, but metaphorically speaking: "Maybe you should try it some time. That way you'd be less inclined to come off as an arrogant sod of a male."
Fango shrugs a little. "I'm a Weaver. We're second only to Harpers for drama, you know. And there's a /big/ difference between Adriathan and a bloody drunken rider. Adriathan isn't hurting anything." He doesn't bother to whisper, since he doesn't really care anything about what other people are thinking. He stabs a spoon into his bowl with annoyance, and chews in silence until he is drawn to speak again. "If you were around to ask, I would have. You ran off to do...whatever it is you do. Sweeps, or something /neccessary/, I'm sure." He doesn't sound as sure as he claims, but that's probably just being defensive. "Anyhow. I made him bathe. And he /doesn't/ smell like an old person. I know how old people smell." He stabs his spoon into his bowl, and snaps, "And would you /not/ call it a parasite!"
Phrederick snorts. "I don't care how you percieve me. I have other things to think about." He points out. "Perhaps you should take the opportunity while you are here at the Weyr to learn how other people from other places live, instead of getting all huffy when someone has a different upbringing than your own." Woot, Minka coaxed a lecture from the Monobrowed candidate.
Minka got /told/. She's stunned. Sort of humiliated really. There's definite pause before she moves, which firstly is to check out who heard, then secondly to look back at Phrederick, "Well..." She splutters a little, obviously realising he's got a point wether she like sit or not. Meekly, she replies, "Fine. But, just so you know, I didn't mean to offend you." She'll admit that, but not the fact she really was quite interested in his juice-ish creation.
Phrederick smiles "See now you can sleep knowing you didn't waste today." He points out brightly. "And I wasn't offended. It'd take alot more than prim disapproval to offend me. "D'ya wanna sip?" He asks, offering his glass, Phred-cooties and all towards the younger girl.
Minka laughs, "I see. Well, considering up 'till now I'd done nothing but chores - you might just be right." Sparing a grin, she comments, "Somehow I'd believe that from you. And it wasn't disapproval.. Just my way of things." Or a really shallow, self-absorbed sort of view. But shh. The cootie cup is eyed, Minka gearing up for a big fat no to his germs. But seeing she's making an effort, she takes the glass, tentatively sipping at the concoction. Pleasantly surprised by the flavours, she muses, "Not bad, not bad. You could sell that, Phred." Pause, the now Minka and Phred cootie-coated glass returned to it's owner, "I'd bet be on my way though, promised Sorcha I'd help her out this evening." Blush, "It's been nice chatting with you." And with that, Minka bids farewell to the hairy man.
Living Cavern
The smooth, rounded walls cavern sweep upward from an oval base, two dragonlengths long and one wide, large enough to seat every member of the Weyr at mealtimes. The soft blackness of the lava which forms these caverns swallows glowlight, so shelves for glowbaskets abound, dotting the walls every three or four paces and casting gentle greenish light toward the sparkles of gold volcanic glass embedded in the ceiling. Ancient, lustrous tables run along the axis of the cavern, and at the far end rests the raised dais and high table, where Weyrleaders and honored guests eat during formal occasions. Behind the high table, the Weyr's symbol is embedded into stone: a smoking mountain in black on... [look closer]
Perched near the food are twenty-seven firelizards.
You see Tray of Meat Rolls and Cookies, Firelizard Tapestry, and Phrederick here.
You notice Talara asleep here.
Deaglan and Lynzi are here.
Obvious exits:
Northeast Caverns Kitchens Bowl Southern Caverns
Phrederick smirks at Deaglan. "Don't let them girls bother you. They aren't doing anything original or intelligent." He reiterates with a shudder, before abruptly changing topic. "So how're you finding chores and candidacy and the like?" He asks still working his way through his barely diminished plate.
The girls decide that they are tired of the scene in the caverns, and if cute boys are to be found, they might just be on the beach. Packing up, Lynzi makes sure to saunter past Deag and Phred's table, nodding to both all too politely, "Pretty boy. Not so pretty boy." As to who the commends were meant for is unknown, and Lynzi quickly disappears with her group of giggling girls.
Lynzi walks to the Southern Caverns.
"/They/ don't. /She/ does." Lan says pointing towards Lynzi's back,"It's more the way she's treated my family. Can be rude all you like to me but she messed with my family." He says quite simply. This is why the witch must BURN! Although if he ever finds out about the incident where one of his family got yelled at for trying to be polite...
Minka is brushed past by Lynzi and the gaggle of giggling girls. She frowns, watching them leave, shuffled to the side. Waiting, with arms folded irritably actross her chest, Minka then stalks forward, polite smile nowhere to be seen this afternoon. Deaglan is spotted first, the candidate approached, "Hello." Weary. "Can I sit?" Though her pleasantly-rounded buttox is already slid into place, a brief grin spared for the young man Lan converses with already. Glance. Facial hair. Hrm. Nice monobrow ya' got growing.
Phrederick shrugs. "I guess growing up big and hairy makes ya kinda immune to that kinda thing. If she tried that on my family..." Well needless to say, Lynzi probably wouldn't take on one of Phredericks family, let alone all of them. "Please do." He gestures with his grubby, yet elegant hand. "I'm Phrederick. But you can call me Phred." He takes a breath. "I have the mind of a 15 turn old boy." He claims before smirking. "In a jar, on my desk at home." He's kidding really.
"Hello again Minka! Go ahead and have a seat. That /girl/ was being herself again." Lan says smiling a bit at the other candidate. "So far how many of my family have you gotten to meet Minka? I know Neana and Eym." He says thoughtfully.
Minka kind of stares at Phrederick, "Well met, Phred. Where abouts is your family from?" Probably High Reaches. That would explain the extensive hair coverage, y'see. Keeps out the cold. A laugh is drowned out as Minka hurriedly pours a glass of water, taking a semi-gurgled sip. Calm. Just don't look at single line of hair on the forehead. Maintaining a cool disposition, Min asks, "Talking about that girl, eh? Lynzi did you say her name was." A brief look is spirited back to where the gigglers disappeared. Good riddance. Deaglan returns her attention, "Hrm? Oh, was she just. Glad I missed the worst of it then. I think I've met about four. But I have been told there's a good ten or so more I haven't met yet." Or a thousand. They're everywhere!
Phrederick smiles, then gets right back to his eatin'. "Uh, Telgar." He answers before shovelling more tubers into his maw. Chewing he watches the conversation, before speaking once more. "You've got that many siblings? I bet you couldn't swing a feline without giving offense to at least one of 'em." Charming. Then he's back to eating.
"I have one little brother by blood but via my fostering, which have become as much family as my blood since I've been all but raised by Shayla, so she's kinda become 'Mother', I have about thirteen. N'ano has sired more than his share of children." Lan says laughing a bit,"Don't care so much about the older ones but the lil ones I don't like folks messing with. Them and Neana."
Minka nods, "Ah I see." That works too. As the question is raised with Deaglan, Minka turns her head to watch the boy answer, chin rested on her hand, "Thirteen. Thought that's what that young boy said. Think his name was Kiano." If she's wrong, it's simply because she snatched it from another conversation in passing. Those tubers are eyed, ravenously so. Gurgle. This is punishment for relying on sweets as supplement enough for dinner.
Phrederick munches on oblivious to pretty much anything else. Tubers, meat, greens, bread, It's all getting packed away with gusto. "Oh it's one of those weyr families." He responds cryptically. "Good for you, good for you." He continues absently. "it's all good." Okay yeah the food has most of his attention for the time being.
"Kiano... That would be N'ano's little boy with Kia I believe." Lan says scratching at his temple a little bit, eyes flickering a little bit,"I've only met the kid a couple times. He doesn't come by mother's often so I never really got a chance to meet him. If he's anything like Naela, he's a handful though. Weyr families? Guess one could say that's what the issue is. "Yeah. It is a Weyr Family. It's kinda nice. I wouldn't want a small family." He says laughing a little bit.
Minka gets up from the table, a little too overwhelmed by the aroma of food it would seem. She picks up a plate, a few things her and there selected from atop the hearth - all the ingredient for a sandwich it would seem. Upon her return she settles back into her seat next to Deaglan, fork picked up and shoved into a small peice of meat. Eating with great relish, she catches the last strains of Lan's words, "He's a bit on the.. Outspoken side, you could say. Got Sorcha scratching her head too, with his funny little manners."
Phrederick doesn't really have anything else to add to the conversation at the moment, its all about people he doesn't know. So he eats some more, apparently his larger-than-normal body, comes complete with a larger than normal stomach.
"So he's a bit of a chatterbox?" Lan asks laughing a little bit,"Knowing Naela, it's entirely possible." He says laughing a little bit. "Just be glad that I'm in one of my 'good' moods. I kinda creeped someone out the other day when I was not having a good one."
"Just a little. He managed to sneak right up on me whilst I was inspecting yesterday's stew. Got myself a nice bump on the head for it too." Min raises a finger tentatively, prodding the back of her head, "Ah well, no harm." She looks to Deaglan for a moment, "Is that so. Why?" Munching on a breadstick, she watches him. Unlike Phred, her body wasn't built for high input - rather it's accomodated her eating habits. Ooh, tuber.
The smile fades from Lan's face, his eyes become rather still for a moment,"There are things in life that can be explained, and those that must be experienced. One cannot use the same situation for more than one person, and did you have a Healer look at the bump. You could have cause more injury then you realize."
Phrederick has almost completed his meal. Finally! Clearing his throat he stands abruptly and wanders off, returning moments later with a glass of juice. It appears that even though he has nothing significant to add, he is enjoying himself. "Good juice." See nothing significant.
Minka shoots Deaglan a funny look, both concerning his answer to her query and his own question, "It's a bump. And I'm still alive. Don't concern yourself. If I start seeing spots in front of my eyes, /then/ I will go to a Healer." Crunch. A particularly crunchy part of her breadstick is chomped upon, sending a spray of flakes falling down. Distraction, she bends down a little, brushing them off, her muffled response rising from beneath the table, "Redfruit, is it?"
Sighing a little bit,"It's time for me to get a little nap in before I go back to working the infirmary. By the way, sometimes you have issues without the little spots." Lan says standing up and then bowing slightly,"Just a little warning on that. Anyway, I have enjoyed both of your company immensely but I really am quite tired."
Phrederick offers a big-handed wave for Deaglan. "See ya little fella Lan." Yeah he can say that, he's big and tall and very hairy. "Yeah redfruit, and some other juices, I just poured a little of every pitcher into my glass." Yeah Phred lives dangerously.
Minka returns from her crumb-dusting expedition, hurriedly sending a wave after the rapidly departing form of Deaglan, "See you later." She rights herself then, straightening her shirt and turning to gaze at Phred, "So, it tastes good?" She's skeptical, "I think I'll stick to plain old redfruit today." Considering her water is all-but gone, she refills her glass with the pitcher of golden juice. Oh yeah, truly living life on the edge there, Phred.
Phrederick winks. "I said that already didn't I?" He counters with a question of his own. "Plain is boring." He points out, because drinking juice should always be a taste adventure. Other than that he's not really a major contributor to the whole conversation thing.
A little ruffled by the wink, Minka pushes her glass towards Phrederik, "All right then, I'll be the judge of that." She nods towards the other pitchers, "Stun me." Yup. Minka's totally cool and dangerous too. /Not/.
Phrederick quirks a brow. "Uh?" Uh-oh Minka went and confused the Phred. "Stun you? I don't understand." He blinks owlishly at her a time or two. Bad Minka, no cookie.
Minka frowns, a little confused herself that Phred's confused. Confusion abounds! She taps her glass, then points to the pitchers, "Your little recipe? Of mixing the juices?" Then a little more bluntly, "Can you make it for me?" No cookie? Bap. Bad hairy Phred.
Iya strides swiftly in from the Southeastern Bowl.
Phrederick shrugs. "There is no recipe. Just pour, pour, pour, pour really." He explains. "It really wouldn't be too exciting if you knew exactly what you were going to get before you drank it would it?" It's about as philosophical as he gets
Minka takes back the glass, nearing a scowl, "Oh fine." Redfruit will do. She's too tired to engage in extremely unintellectual conversations with hairy men, "I suppose not." She shifts in her seat, squirming over to the middle and squelching back comfortably, "Plus. I'm sure there's really not much difference, anyway." No - really, she's just put out about the whole thing.
Fango walks, cane tapping the floor ahead of him, in from the Southeastern Bowl.
Iya strides in alongside of Fango, woman partially soaked, all on her bottom half and some of her upper torso, but looking fairly uncaring, "I have no idea what they serve up anymore in the Weyr.." The short woman shares with Fango as a slight aside, "I rarely eat here.." A nod is given to the few people she may know here, and a searching look to those that she doesn't, as if trying to place them, "Ah. Stew."
Phrederick quirks his brow again. "No-one said you had to do it. I only said plain was boring." And thusly he's decided that Minka wants him. Baad. "No need to get your ti...er knickers in a knot." See he does have some form of social editting.
Minka sniffs, pointedly, sipping at her juice. "Mmn. /It's good/." There's a look towards Phrederick, scorn - scorn for the multijuice. The next phrase to come out of Phrederick's mouth is met with a gape of her own, "Goodness me, what a way to speak to a young lady. I suppose this is how you charm all of them, is it?" Huff. Arms are folded across her chest, now she's decided Phred wants her. She's knows it. Therefore, the bosom is concealed from any potential perving. Iya and Fango are noted belatedly, soaked forms given a once over. Stew. Good choice. Back to Phrederick, she sips from her glass again. I'm on to you, buddy.
"Stew is good," Fango comments, following alongside Iya into the living caverns, rather drier than she is. He mostly ignores the people around him, since no one sounds particularly familiar, and focuses on heading for food. Stew and juice is good, so he ends up with a bowl and glass of each, and then waits for Iya to choose a table. "So what exactly was it you wanted to talk about?" he wonders.
Phrederick harumphs. "Don't have much time for girls. They're all just a bunch of silly attention-seekers." Apparently Minka isn't a girl, or is a silly attention seeker. "It could have been worse. I honestly can't believe that you've lived as long as you look like you have and haven't heard, or spoken anything worse that knicker. Most knickers aren't all that interesting either." Yep it's getting all so very intellectual now.
"That renegade you decided to allow to sleep in /my/ weyr." Iya states, tone of voice nonchalant, woman perhaps not wanting to cause a ruckus in the middle of the living caverns, "I'm honestly wondering what you were thinking about when you invited him to do so." She herself has picked up a bowl of stew as well, and a glass of juice, mirroring Fango's choice, "Especially seeing as my son sleeps there." She sniffs lightly, slight smile curving lips then as she finally heads towards a table, chair pulled out with one hooked foot, her bottom settling into it then as she drops her bowl on the table top, "So? Enlighten me? Canllaith isn't the happiest wave in the sea either because of it."
Minka isn't a girl. She's a woman - hear her roar, "Well, that's even more rude isn't it. You think I'm an attention seeker?" Major blush. She sips her juice, angrily. If you've ever seen someone sip juice angrily, you'll know, it's quite menacing, "Where I come from, no matter what age or rank you hold; you at least have the common decency to be polite to ladies." Frown, "And it's not dependant on their entertainment value either." And, Phred obviously hasn't seen many. After all, you can get spotty, stripy, friily, lacy and so much more.
Fango stiffens a little, slightly defensive. "Well, he didn't have anywhere better to sleep," he responds. "And... I kind of thought it was our weyr, since I /was/ living there too. But I suppose I can move out if you don't want me there anymore." So much for him being in a cheery mood. He falls silent as he follows her to the table, juggling walking cane and dinner until he gets there and settles successfully into a chair. "He's not bad, okay? He's a good kid, and if I thought he was going to hurt anything, I'd be the first to get him away from Isaek."
Phrederick shrugs. "Where I come from we're all to busy doing useful stuff to worry about polite. You should hear my Ma, she'd make your toenails blush." He points out. "Politeness is just people pretending to give a wherries arse if you ask me." Well at least he's talking now. It appears drinking your juice menacingly is an invitation to converse further on the subject.
Iya snorts suddenly, a spoon stabbed into her bowl as she eyes Fango from her seat near him, "Don't get dramatic, Fango. And just because we share a weyr does not mean you can let any little raggamuffin into it. It's /ours/. I don't let bloody drunk riders crash there after a nights worth of drink therapy." A slew of words delivered in a low annoyed whisper, that stew mashed around before she finally takes a bite. Then she's silent for a while, chewing meat chunks and other bits identifiable as food, "You /ask/. And you know he makes Canllaith upset, and if he's upset /I'm/ upset. And if I'm upset then this parasite inside me is upset." You know, that thing known as ~spawn~, "And he doesn't look as if he bathes." She adds sullenly, "And he smells like an old person." All justifiable reasons not to like someone.
"Being polite is useful. It gets you places." Sage nod. "I see." So it's like that, runs in the family, does it? "And I don't pretend. I really do." Well, Minka doesn't give a wherries arse, obviously, because she doesn't have any. Or the desire to hunt one down, but metaphorically speaking: "Maybe you should try it some time. That way you'd be less inclined to come off as an arrogant sod of a male."
Fango shrugs a little. "I'm a Weaver. We're second only to Harpers for drama, you know. And there's a /big/ difference between Adriathan and a bloody drunken rider. Adriathan isn't hurting anything." He doesn't bother to whisper, since he doesn't really care anything about what other people are thinking. He stabs a spoon into his bowl with annoyance, and chews in silence until he is drawn to speak again. "If you were around to ask, I would have. You ran off to do...whatever it is you do. Sweeps, or something /neccessary/, I'm sure." He doesn't sound as sure as he claims, but that's probably just being defensive. "Anyhow. I made him bathe. And he /doesn't/ smell like an old person. I know how old people smell." He stabs his spoon into his bowl, and snaps, "And would you /not/ call it a parasite!"
Phrederick snorts. "I don't care how you percieve me. I have other things to think about." He points out. "Perhaps you should take the opportunity while you are here at the Weyr to learn how other people from other places live, instead of getting all huffy when someone has a different upbringing than your own." Woot, Minka coaxed a lecture from the Monobrowed candidate.
Minka got /told/. She's stunned. Sort of humiliated really. There's definite pause before she moves, which firstly is to check out who heard, then secondly to look back at Phrederick, "Well..." She splutters a little, obviously realising he's got a point wether she like sit or not. Meekly, she replies, "Fine. But, just so you know, I didn't mean to offend you." She'll admit that, but not the fact she really was quite interested in his juice-ish creation.
Phrederick smiles "See now you can sleep knowing you didn't waste today." He points out brightly. "And I wasn't offended. It'd take alot more than prim disapproval to offend me. "D'ya wanna sip?" He asks, offering his glass, Phred-cooties and all towards the younger girl.
Minka laughs, "I see. Well, considering up 'till now I'd done nothing but chores - you might just be right." Sparing a grin, she comments, "Somehow I'd believe that from you. And it wasn't disapproval.. Just my way of things." Or a really shallow, self-absorbed sort of view. But shh. The cootie cup is eyed, Minka gearing up for a big fat no to his germs. But seeing she's making an effort, she takes the glass, tentatively sipping at the concoction. Pleasantly surprised by the flavours, she muses, "Not bad, not bad. You could sell that, Phred." Pause, the now Minka and Phred cootie-coated glass returned to it's owner, "I'd bet be on my way though, promised Sorcha I'd help her out this evening." Blush, "It's been nice chatting with you." And with that, Minka bids farewell to the hairy man.