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Wyn is an observant sort, if not particularly a social
butterfly, and so she meets waves headed in her
direction with little smiles and brief nods to both
Lucan and Caeran, before hovering on the outskirts of
the group, and adjusting the sit of her little black
bikini's (Wyn's ex-Istan Healer, you see.) neck strap
with a cool look here and there. Picking teams, agony
of the bookish. Not that Wyn would ever admit it.
Dayonis sinks into a sitting position to one side of
the sandball net, affectionately stroking the little
blue firelizard on the forehead. Fingers run through
her dark hair a moment as she settles in, preparing to
watch the match.
N'ano conspires with Drutoley, naturally. "How
'bout--you?" Again, no namer. Hand waves towards
Bianca as head bobs, "You look good--I mean, y'know.
You're tall 'nough, look like you could be a good
player. Don't know if you've ever played in your life,
but hey," he grins, beckoning her over to their team.
Bianca looks startled, then makes her way towards
N'ano. "Erm, sure. I'm Bianca. I've played, but..not
for at least a turn. So don't expect me to be all
fabulous and stuff. My talents are not in this area."
Natch stands and starts to divest herself of her
too-heavy-for-the-beach gown, folding it and tossing
laying on top of her shoes
A random male in the crowd whistles and tosses a
mark-piece.
Spencer walks down the trail from the plateau.
Natch graciously ignores the reaction of the
weyr-folk, making exceptions for the behavior of the
less well-bred.
B'ane regards N'ano's decision and then starts to
isolate his next team mate. "Ok." Well, when it comes
to being physically up there, riders got it covered,
right?. "What about you, Wyn, wanna play?" On his
team, that is. You could be on the winning one,
wheeee. If the Reachian refrains, then he's got
another shoe-in for the position, have no fear.
Lyria meanders down the trail from the plateau.
N'ano takes a moment to settle his bottle-o-Lemos down
and out of the way of a ball potentially hitting it
while idly pouring himself a small bit of whatever it
was that Natch brought over. She won't mind, right?
The drink is downed and N'ano returns to his roster,
muttering, "That stuff has bite, woo." Grinning, he
nods his head towards the others awaiting to be
picked, "Mmm..." Turning his head back towards his
small group, he quickly chin-nudge greets Bianca,
"--N'ano, and that's Drutoley," he adds. And now he
goes back to picking, "Okie, how 'bout you." Who? Why,
Natch of course. Grinning, he tilts his head back
towards his team, "You're -are- playin', right?" Of
course she is. And if she wasn't, she is now.
Natch waves a limp hand at N'ano in a shoo'ing
motion. "I will watch," she informs him in a rather
firm tone. "Someone has to."
Wyn manages not to look startled at /not/ being the
last person picked, simply peering over at B'ane from
under her sunhat, and sidling over, abandoning her
sandals at the edge of the court and glancing at her
fingernails. "Thought you'd never ask." she intones
with a dry smile and a hint of humour. "I'm most
definitely in, and I apologize in advance if I become
over-competitive." Warning given, the little
bluerider resumes her people-watching, but now from
within the ranks of A Team.
N'ano sticks his tongue out towards the Holder before
rebrowsing the group, "Okay... Lyria!" he calls out,
waving a hand, "You playing?" he questions, waving her
over.
Drutoley gives Bianca a shy greeting before quickly
turning away to study the crowd busily. Something in
that crowd -sure- interests him. Or perhaps it's his
compulsive need to keep his eyes away from all these
scantily-clad females. Indeed, there's a faint rose
tint to his cheeks, and he seems quite flustered. No
social skills, nope. "Um.. Hrmm," is his only comment
as N'ano selects Natch, though he does look
considerably relieved at the substitution of Lyria.
Hey. Natch might take their ball away and make them
all eat mushy peas or something. Lyria, Lyria he
knows.
Alasse glances over her shoulder at the team-choosing.
It looks like it will take a bit longer, so she ducks
down again, opting to watch the waves rather than the
sandball area.
Lyria scurries back down to the beach, all nice and
un-salty. "Yeah! Count me in!" is the response to
N'ano as she abandons her sandals on the edge of the
beach. Shoes. Puh. Who needs 'em.
Caeran sighs. Nobody seems to want him on their team.
Or at least he dooesn't seem to be today's hot
commodity. No matter. Those rider types always seem to
stick together. Meanwhile, he stands there humming.
He's not humming anything in particular. He's just
humming one long tone in an attempt to get noticed.
B'ane picks up a sandalled foot and rests it on top of
the ball. "Hmmmm.." He drones mostly to himself. "Who
do you think would be good?" Is asked of his few
groupees to hear their input. "What about him.." The
bronzer turns his body for a huddle and points to
Caeran. "D'you think he's worth his mark?"
Lucan stands next to B'ane with his hands on his hips
as he looks at the crowd of people. "Yeah, the
/winning/ team.." he comments right after his captain
does. Wyn is then nodded at and a lopsided grin is
shown. "Right? We'll win. Hands /down/." Oh yeah.
They should be Team Demolition, or something. Even
though this game is just for fun, the lad can't help
but get a teensie bit competitive..
Cockiness, cockiness. Should be amusing to watch the
lad get smushed. Spencer finds himself a spot and
settles in for the fun.
Bianca grins and nods a greeting, though she looks a
bit puzzled as Drutoley avoids looking at her. Oh
well. She shrugs, turning to eye the crowd
speculatively, lingering on several males. Ahem. Might
as well scope out prospective guys, right? Right.
Ooh goody. Another tall-dude has entered the playing
field. "You--" Spencer is pointed at, and thumb-nudged
towards N'ano's group after B'ane makes a choice, "You
wanna be on our team?" It's not really an option now,
is it? He's made his decision.
"Technically," Wyn notes to Lucan in her standard
bland tones. "One would prefer /not/ to have ones'
hands down, in a game of sandball. Although I suppose
that winning hands up lacks a certain... swing." she
admits, with another twitch of the brim of her hat.
A nod for B'ane. "Yes. Caeran I know. He's a good
choice."
Spencer eyes the pointer with a lifted brow,
affronted. "What? Me? Do I look like the athletic
type?" YOu have offended his Dignity.
N'ano nods his head quickly, "Good 'nough! So hop to
it!" Ooh, N'ano's turned on his command, yet still
managing to be friendly mode. And this would be where
he snaps his fingers Spencer's way. "C'mon! It'll be
fun," he adds, beckoning the others to nod while
agreeing.
Fox is all about set to give up, his pale face screwed
up in anger as red begins to color his otherwide white
flesh. "Somebody. pick. ME! I can play, I promise! I'm
not tall, but I'm GOOD." And so modest, too.
Spencer eyes the rider mistrustfully, but hauls his
lazy carcass off the sand and over to the rider. "If
it's not, do I get to drench you in water?" He's
apparently forgotten that dragons like water. "What
are we doing, by the way?"
Lucan rephrases for Wyn's sake. "We'll win... hands
/up/!" he remarks with a grin. Snapping his fingers
because he's antsy, the stablehand begins to shift his
weight from foot to foot. Pause. Fox is then stared
at. "B'ane. Pick him.. he looks mean." Perhaps
'mean' isn't the right word.. Cough.
Caeran notices B'ane looking his way and moves over to
his side. They need one more player, anyway. Yes! He
has the athletic team. The relatively tall lad flexes
his fingers in anticipation, trying to remember the
game rules. From what he remembers it's not that hard.
Just keep the ball off the ground.
B'ane's just can't help but notice the hoppy
carrot-top that while he looks like he may get stepped
on, he's prob'ly fast. Plus Aboleoth said to pick him.
"Ok, c'mere you with the red hair." He's getting as
bad as N'ano now. "There, that looks like it'll be an
even number now. Four or four." Proof that riders not
only look pretty, but can count too.
"Yes, SIR! I won't let you down!" Fox chirps happily
as he skitters over to his team, already babbling
about technique and strategy. He could be planning
Pern's first world war, the way he's animatedly moving
team members around and discussing offense and
defense. Poor little man.
"... ah, sure. Water's nice?" N'ano half grins, "'n
we're playin' sandball... real easy, honestly.
Basically just hittin' the ball back 'n forth over the
net. We don't want it to touch the ground though on
our side--that's the object of the game. Just watch
how we serve the ball up so you get 'n idea, 'k?" he
explains to Spencer.
Blyss walks down the trail from the plateau.
Lyria may be short, but she's fierce. Rawr. And she
may be able to play a mean game of sandball. There's
only one problem though... She spins around to her
team,"So...How do you play?" As N'ano explains she
'ah's. "Sounds easy. Rightrightright. I've seen people
play before." Them beach bums out on the beach y'know.
Wyn smiles prettily at Lucan, exerting herself to be
momentarily expressive, in reward for his amendment.
Considering that Wyn's wearing what she's wearing,
this is not a bad thing. Eyeing Fox, she shakes her
head slightly, and delicately-but-firmly removes
herself from his grip as his efforts at organizing the
team come to her. "I assume," she inquires generally,
with a touch of wicked amusement. "That with the
gender balance on each team, we'll -not- be playing
shirts and skins?"
Natch sits happily in her little semi-shady corner and
watches the semi-clad males as they stand around
choosing sides.
Spencer crosses his arms loosely iover his chest. "If
you say so," He replies dubiously. And yet, it might
be fun..especially when girls are wearing little
clothing. Yup, that'll keep his attention.
Bianca rocks back and forth on her heels, then to her
toes. Back and forth, back and forth. "Sounds easy. I
can do it. Can we attack someone to get the ball?"
Violent little thing, ain't she? The Tillekian brushes
some sand off her hands, then her eyes immediately go
back to surveying the guys. Hmm.
Neana skips down the trail from the plateau.
N'ano is wearing little clothing too! Just some
swimming trunk, but that's another subject. No
swooning just yet, ladies. "Alright, your team servin'
first since we picked first?" N'ano hollars over
towards B'ane. Bianca's question causes a diversion in
his attention, however, "Wha? Ah--not really... y'see,
we can only keep it on our si--okay. Say they serve
the ball... we can either hit it directly over the net
back at 'em, or one of us can set the ball up for
someone else to hit it over... just--try to keep it
up! Don't catch it, either..."
Lucan nods and agrees that the rules are rather
simple. Just keep the ball off the ground on our side
and in bounds at all times. Rahaha. This should
be... amusing. Fox is the eyed and then finally
grinned at as the little guy buzzes around him and the
rest of his team as the stablehand takes a step closer
to B'ane. And, of course, Wyn's approval doesn't go
unnoticed either.. /Beam/.
Alasse breathes a sigh of relief as the game begins,
and finally turns back around to enjoy watching the
game. She draws her legs up, and wraps her arms
around them, resting her chin on her knees. Her eyes
follow the players getting ready, and she whispers a
command to the mischief-makers on her shoulders to
stay put.
Spencer slowly -- very slowly -- peels himself out of
outer clothing. Nobody's looking, right?sister shrieks
and dives under his shirt. "Silly thing, nobody's
looking at you."
Drutoley hovers over his teammates, listening to the
discussion with some interest. First, learn how to
play, Dru. Then, you get the sugar.. Or something.
"They look like a pretty competitive team. Are we
going to rotate positions, or just kinda free-for-all
it? I'll take a spot up by the net, if we do.. I think
I can be a pretty good.. what's the term.. 'blocker'.
Yes. I'll just.. stand there with my arms up and look
mean."
B'ane picks up the sandball, gathers his posse
together and meanders over to one side of the net.
"Yah since you guys got to pick first, we get to serve
first." Is called over the net. So there. And treat
the fishing net nicely, since it's not to be returned
the next day. Since he's got the ball, he might as
well serve first too, right? "Like N'ano said, just
don't let the ball hit the ground." And there we go as
the rider gives an over-hand serve which sails nicely
over to the other side. Start your engines!
Leah walks gracefully down the trail from the plateau.
Lyria shrugs slightly. "I can stand in the back. I
think I should be able to hit it far." All that
firestone sack lifting must be good for /something/,
right? Lyri edges towards the back of the court,
tugging on the edge of her sundress. No skimpy bikinis
here. Although that dress is a tad short. And a tad
low cut.
Wyn isn't saying much at the moment... she'll think up
some good taunts later. Right now, there's simply a
little bluerider sliding into position as one of the
forwards, slightly dwarfed by taller people, but with
a glint in her eye as she stares down the ball as if
it were some strange, spherical bit of Thread. Muah.
Caeran wanted to serve, but he knows his time will
come. For now, he gets into a ready position close to
the net, ready to give any flying objects that might
come his way a nice wallop. Firelizards, beware. He
has a killer spike. "Spikes are allowed, right?" he
asks B'ane.
Neana wanders into the room, humming to herself and
not running...for once. She eyes the crowd
suspiciously, and looks up brightly at N'ano, running
over. Bother, she really didn't mean to kick up all
that sand. "Daaaaad", she tugs on his wrist,
"Pleeeeeeeease can I play dad?". Neana tilts her head
slightly, none of these other people really seemed her
size, but so what?
Drutoley draaaags his eyes away from Lyria
reluctantly. See, he can look at her, because she's
not running around in waterproof underwear. She's
just.. wearing a skimpy dress. A skimpy, low-cut dress
that makes Dru's adam's apple bob like a cork going
over Niagara. "Served!" he yells as the ball comes
sailing over, stepping forward to let someone in the
back row take it.
B'ane gets into the position, leaning forward, hands
resting just below his knees. The people in back of
him with have a nice view of his uh,... the ocean.
Right. "C'mon team, we can whip 'em." That's right,
grrr. "And remember to call it so we all don't dash at
once for the thing." He advises quickly since most of
his attention is on the ball. "Yep, you can certainly
do spikes." To Caeran.
Fox, like a large, beligerent gnome, chuckles nastily
as he scampers into position, knees bent, arms out as
the ball is served. Rocking back and forth on his
toes, ever at the ready, he beckons with one tiny
hand. "C'mon, c'mon, y' big SISSIES! Return the ball
so we can GRIND you into the SAND!" Nyucknyucknyuck.
"Er---uh, sweetie? I don't mean to sound like a poopie
head, but the ball might hurt you, so I'd rather you
stick to cheerin' on the side, if that's alright? We
can play after--just you in me, if you want? I
promise..." Think N'ano's compromise'll work with his
daughter? Hopefully. And this would be where he ushers
her off to the side now that the game's starting.
Spencer snorts in annoyance at the little Fox-type,
digging toes in the sand as he swats the ball back
over the net -- right at the little carrot-top. "May
he be knocked clean into the ocean..
Bianca belatedly skitters into position, shooting an
annoyed glare at Fox. "Two words: Shut up!" Pause.
"Okay, four words: Shut up, you fool." Grr. The girl
pretty much bounces about, waiting for the perfect
oppourtunity to either slam the ball over the net or
slam her face into the sand. Most likely, it'll be the
latter.
Neana plops down in the sand beside Alasse and pouts a
little, crossing her arms and doing her best to look
annoyed. Brat. Oh well, she'll probably be over it by
the time the game gets going. She squooshes her toes
through some wet sand, idly watching the game.
Squeak. The ball heads right for Fox. 'Heads' being
the appropriate word, too, as it lands atop his
carrot-y locks and bounces back into the air. "Argh!
Me HEAD! Ooooh, you'll be payin' for that, you
lily-livered son of a groundmite! You festering bucket
of feline foulness! You-- Och, get the ball, would
ye?"
Alasse looks surprised to have her little niece join
her. "Um...." Very eloquent there. "So, how's your
firelizard?" she asks, a bit bewildered. She bobs her
head up and down in a fashion that she thinks looks
like the interested-older-girl. "Did you get your
rabbit-thingy?"
Wyn moves to dart after the loose ball after it
thwocks Fox on the head, but then stops and returns to
her post as it bounces in the opposite direction as
her. "Yours!" she calls hopefully to whoever happens
to be hunting it down, shaking her head slightly at
the Angry Dwarf. "Perhaps if you kept your eyes on
the ball...?"
Lucan takes his rightful place -- front, left -- on
the 'court' and watches as B'ane serves the ball over
to the other team. Standing ready for a counter hit,
the lad follows the ball with his eyes as it
saaaaiiiils across the net. Mmkay. Pause. Fox is
then smirked at, "Hey, Fox! I'll lift you up so you
can spike it when it comes back.." Har har. It
should be hit back in three.. two.. one.. SMACK. It
wails into Fox's head. "Perhaps not?" Luc manages to
say just before breaking into a fit of laughter..
The ball comes rocketing off of Fox's head and into
the air. It is in danger of hitting the ground, until
Caeran takes action. He sprints for a couple steps and
then dives into the sand. His clenched hands touch the
ball at the last possible moment as he bumps the ball
backwards onto the side of the opposite team.
N'ano gets back from the sideline just in time too to
see the ball heading his way. He's in no position to
whack it back over though, so he does some punchy move
to keep it afloat in the air, "Dru! Spike it!" He
knows what a spike is, right? Hopefully he's close
enough to the net to do it, too.
Lyria will hopefully not be too busy sniggering at Fox
and the ball hitting his head to hit the ball when it
returns to their side of the net. She hops from foot
to foot,"C'mon Dru!" she cheers on her team. Yayrah.
Leah walks onto the beach, yeah shes a little late for
the start, but at least she came. She walks over to
where those that are watching are watching. "Hello."
she adds to those she joins at she sits down in the
sand to watch. Her fair of firelizards chirp happily
as they watch the ball fly around.
"Just fine" Neana peers at Alasse in a way that says,
why are we talking about this anyway? She glances
nervously at N'ano, before standing up and heading
down the beach. He didn't notice that, right? Kids get
bored sooo easy. Or do they?
Neana skips south along the beach.
Drutoley turns. Somebody called? Oh, the ball! With an
awkward lurch and absolutely no clearance from the
ground, the lanky lad raises a work-calloused hand and
returns the leather-wrapped demon from whence it came
- B'ane's side, of course. His entire body isn't in on
the swing, due to his surprise, but the effect is the
same - With his height, he sends the ball rocketing
towards the ground. SPIKE.
Bianca is now useless, for she's laughing
uncontrollably as Fox gets thwacked in the head. Oh
boy. She wipes a hand across her eyes, getting rid of
the tears of laughter, and tries to focus. "Yay! Go
team!" And then she's doing some type of dance,
bouncing around in her place. She'll just be a
cheerleader until the ball flies her way.
Caeran spits the sand out of his mouth and stands. He
sees the spike, but he's a little far away now to do
much good, and he's not about to try another stunt
like that anytime soon. He simply stands there and
waits for a teammate to come to the rescue.
Fox twirls on his heel, words tumbling out of his
sneering mouth before he's fulling facing Wyn. "And
maybe YOU should.. Uh.." But then the little man spots
not-as-little Wyn in her quite-little-enough swimsuit,
and his jaw hits the sand. "Duh.. baah.. mmm... You!
Yes. Maybe you should just.. keep.. playing! Yes! Why
don't you come stand up the front with me, eh? Jump
for the high balls, yeeeeahh... That'd be good."
Lucan wises up just in time to watch Dru leap and
spike the ball.. but, unfortunately he was too busy
laughing to react fast enough. "Faranth!" he says
/just/ before diving in attempt to block and hit the
ball back across the net. But... he fails. The ball
slams into the sand and it just so happens that poor
Luc dove too late and is now lying on his stomach from
the futile attempt. "Oops?" says he. Mebbe next time
he'll pay attention and not laugh so hard..
The gathered crowd, thoroughly enjoying the cider and
stuffed spiderclaw-rolls take a breath now and again
to cheer for whatever team they've grown to fancy.
"Stormcrest will flay you good!" Which is countered
with, "Shards no, Wavecutter will throw the puny
Stormcresters to eat with the fish!" And so the
general census flips from side to side.
"WOO!" Comes the cheer from N'ano as he reaches over
to Hi5 his teammates. "Nice job! Who wants to serve?"
is soon asked as arms are reached beneath the net to
retrieve the ball.
Caeran had been serious until the ball hit the ground,
but now, after a quick glare at Lucan for letting the
ball drop, he bursts out laughing himself. Fox may be
a teammate, but it's always fun to see him get hit. So
he waits for the serve.
Mage glides down the trail from the plateau.
"Keep your eyes on the /sandball/, pet." purrs Wyn to
Fox with practiced evil amusement and a casual
catching of the ball as it bounces near her. She
tosses it over the net to the Wavecutters for their
serve, and then retreats. "Your eyes will do better
there as opposed to hiding themselves in my cleavage."
With a blown kiss, she steps over to help Lucan up.
"You'll get it next time."
While Natch was watching the game with rapt attention
to the players, the sun crept over her and shone down
with rays of sleep-inducing heat. Slowly Natch
succumed to the warmth and dozed off, head resting on
her knees where they were pulled to her chest.
Alasse giggles as Lucan misses the ball. She lets out
a yell for N'ano, cheering him on, and startling her
firelizards a bit. So she turns back to sooth
them-jumpy little critters, huh? She watches for the
next serve.
B'ane stoops to gently shake poor Fox's shoulder. "You
ok there?" Helping the lad up, he then asks if he
wishes to sit out for a few to grab a drink. B'ane is
nice by _not laughing_. "Are ye crazy, I want to EAT
them!" Is the red-head's vehement reply as he bares
his teeth to the Wavecutters. "What about you, Luc?"
Asks B'ane. Sheesh, his team's gonna get broken bones.
Bianca hesitates, then moves towards N'ano. "Here,
lemme serve. Or, try to serve. Don't expect too much,
though," she warns with an amused look.
Lyria cheeers. Loudly. And hi5s N'ano back. "I'm
staying back here. In the corner." Solemnnod. She
likes it back here. "Who's serving?" Besides, back
here she has a nice view of Fox and his idiocy and
Wyn's flaying of him. Mwahaha.
N'ano hands the ball over to Bianca, pointing to the
serve spot, "Just stand over there and whack it over.
I have faith in you!" he bellows before taking his own
spot once again.
Lucan quickly springs to his feet from his sandy
position on the ground. Cough. "I'm ok!" he says as
he brushes sand from his bare torso and from his
shorts. As if anyone cares since he made the other
team gain their first point. BUT! That won't happen
again. Yeah. Ahem.. Wyn is grinned at and a
"Thanks." is said to her right after she offers to
help him to his feet. "I'm a'ight, B'ane. No
worries." Now let's /play/!
Bianca sweats. No pressure, no pressure. She takes the
ball, and moves into position. "Okay..um..okay." She
can do this, honest. She takes a deep breath, tosses
it in the air (not too high) and puts all her weight
into whacking it over the net. And over it goes. Whee.
"Ooh, look, I did it!" Squeal.
B'ane laughs at Wyn just as he stands somewhere that's
not considered back there and not really up there
either. "Get ready, she might have a doozy that
wiggles in the air or something." Just be prepared,
boyscouts. Er, and Wyn. "And don't forget to call it,
too." That's all they need is for all four of them to
collide and the ball fall to the ground.
Leah chuckles to herself as she sees Lucan take a
fall. Now /which/ team should she cheer for? Its soo
hard to chose. She giggles as her flits chirp happily
as the first point is scored. Guess they are cheering
for the team Lucan ain't on. But which should she
cheer for.
Drutoley shuffle-step-steps to the middle of the
'court', palms parallel to the net, knees bent a
little. He looks quite ridiculous, really, though his
face is set in a mask of utmost concentration.
"Alright, team - They're strong, so fall back a little
and keep light on your feet." Not that he would have
any idea, really, but.. it sounded good? "Back line,
get low, be ready to scoop it up!"
Natch starts awake and recomposes herself, a smile
immediately, politely on her face.
Natch releases Faerie, who launches into the air.
Aboleoth wakes from his slumber as someone spills
cider on one of his toes and he gives a mighty yawn
that makes him stick out his tongue. Wha? His Bond's
team is losing? Don't expect him to be a cheerleader.
Crossing his forepaws, the bronze watches the puny
object fly into the air and has the urge to eat it.
But he holds back.
Wyn is only a girlscout if it means she gets a line on
those frighteningly addictive cookies. And really, no
proper girlscout should let competition get in the way
of good manners and cameraderie. Which is precisely
what Wyn's doing, pouncing on the cautious serve by
Bianca as her sunhat flies off of her head. Angling
it sideways, she changes the direction to send it at a
taller person on the front lines. "B'ane!" the
bluerider orders urgently. "Can you spike /them/?"
Alasse yawns and leans back in the sand, arms beneath
her head. No, she's not asleep, but her eyes are
closed, and she has a bit of a bemused grin on her
face.
Natch cheers indescriminately. "Huzzah!"
Thistia saunters, hips swaying gently, down the trail
from the plateau.
Speaking of girlscout cookies, Caeran is a lot like a
ole-oles. Outside, he's covered in sweet powdered
sugar. On the inside, he's nuts. This is aggravated by
the fact that they are losing. "SPIKE IT!" the voice
of his adrenaline yells more loudly than Fox could
ever hope to. "BEAT THEM INTO THE GROUND AND USE THEM
FOR FIRESTONE!"
B'ane darts in front of the net like a freight train,
hollers an "I got it!" and spikes that baby for all
it's worth. He's tall and so it helps to be so. Once
landing on his feet, he quickly looks back to see his
handiwork whether it gets blocked or not.
Stormcresters, cross your fingers! A piece of leather
from the ball then is noticed in his hand. Whoops,
can't be the thing was made with such craftsmanship. A
one-sided shrug is given as he ties the strip around
his forehead. He's cool.
Thistia walks down to the beach, expecting quiet and a
chance to take it easy. She blinks as she hears
someone screaming and looks up, grinning as she sees
the reason for all the shouting. "Sandball?" she
calls out loudly as she runs the rest of the way down
the beach, looking from person to person as she waits
for someone to answer.
Girlscouts? Fox has nothing to do with girlscouts,
apart from perhaps chasing them off his stoop. And
maybe nipping at their heels if he's having an off
day. With the spirit of vengeance one usually finds in
small breeds of canine, he lunges at B'ane. Actually,
he was meant to lunge for the ball. But he just has to
get this -energy- out.
Lucan stands ready once again and watches as Bianca
serves the ball to his team. "Here it comes!" he says
as he follows it with his eyes. Since it's well on
the other side of the court, the lad lets a teammate
go after it this time. And that teammate happens to
be Wyn. "Woooo! Atta girl!" There it goes, straight
up into the air and before he can act on it, B'ane
steps up and wails that ball for a spike. "/Oh/,
yeah!"
One of the older brown riders arrives, still in flying
gear and heads toward the Gar Holder who looks so
lonely, even if she is enjoying the game, or the
participants. He joins her and soon is offering her a
hand up and leading her away.
Natch scrambles up the sandy trail to the plateau.
Drutoley is paying attention this time. Promise. His
face wrinkled with determination, he leaps, he leans,
he blocks! Roof-roof-roof! But the dull smack of
leather on flesh is disheartening, and with a hiss of
pain he withdraws his hands too early. Though he took
a lot of spin off the ball, it still floats over the
net. "Sorry, back row! Easy on the pass, easy on the
pass, it's just a gentle one, now!" As he speaks, he
massages his wrists irritably. Right. Now they're
going down. Gardener style!
Faerie suddenly disappears ::between::!
Nadine struts down the trail from the plateau.
Making a bit of a disgusted face, both rider and
dragon seem rather suprised at the comment from
Caeran. "Firestone out of humans?" Trik replies from
her napping area against the forearm of Agzanth,
plucking a sweetstick into the corner of her mouth,
"That wouldn't be tastin' so good now would it, Ag,
eh?" The red and white licked stick is broken up into
little bites, contenly watching the players
with...'feeble' intentions of hitting the ball across
the net. However that white knot, Drutoley, seems
fairly well at the game. "Haha. Most of them appear
ta' be catchin' flies, dun they, rather than the ball?
Appears so..." Though she isn't exactly being activly
involved in anything at the moment besides stripping
the color from the sweetstick with her tounge.
Lyria has been in the back, all ready to get the
ball...Then Dru gets it. Oh good. She lowers her
guard. Until the ball keeps going. In her direction.
One hand wrapped around her other she scurries
forward. Leaning..Leaning...Hitting the ball. And
falling onto the sand with a flump. But she did get
the ball back over the net.
Caeran shrugs. It was the best line he could come up
with at the time. Once again, he can't do anything for
now. He keeps his eye on the ball, trying to decide
what to do if it comes his way. Maybe he should try to
hit N'ano in the head. He can do that now that he
isn't living here anymore.
If it was ever said that males overcompensate, it can
be said again for Fox. "I got it, I got it, I GOT IT
IT'S MINE BACK OFF!" Like a fireball out of the great
underworld, he barrels completely out of his position,
into someone else's, and takes an almight swing at the
ball. If he'd ever played before, he'd know that the
ball has enough spin to simply rebound off the players
with minimal upswing. But he hasn't and doesn't, and
the ball rockets upwards into the great blue yonder.
"Oops." It does seem positioned to go over the net -
by a margin of a few fingerwidths at most - but not
for a few seconds. It's got a ways to go before even
someone of Drutoley's height could take a swat at it.
Thistia grins, watching the game for a minute before
deciding to opt out of it. She takes a seat somewher
near Trik and Agzanth, grinning at rider and dragon.
"Looks like a crazy game," she says, loudly enough to
be heard, but not really directed towards anyone.
N'ano doesn't want to be hit with the ball, but if
it's to be, now would be the best time since he's
letting his guard up momentarily. Why? Because some
hot girl seems to have made her way onto the beach
from the plateau's path. So naturally, his attention
is focused there. And alas, with all of his luck,
direct contact with the ball and his head occurs. At
least the ball's still in the air though, which is
more than you can say 'bout N'ano, who's taken a
slight tumble to the sand, "Aeeeeow? SOMEONE GET
THAT!!"
Matsuri blinks in from ::between::!
Lyria at least has had time to stand up and brush the
sand off of her arms. Just in time to watch N'ano get
beaned with the ball. Snickersnickerhaha. Ladies and
gents, this is your weyrleader. "Nice one, N'ano,"
calls Lyri with a wink.
The guy with the guitar starts some spicy music that
shifts to something a little more fast pace for the
moment. At that, half of the crowd throws their
drinking glasses at a chance to dance. No one seems to
notice a certain runner meandering through the
procession, eating someone's flower garland here,
taking a bit of rolls here and even goes as far as to
sip some of the cider. Great, a drunk runner.
Bianca snaps back to attention at N'ano's yell, then
glances at him. "Oh, right. The ball." She leaps at
the ball, giving it a good hit slam her hands, and
then she's on her face in the sand. "Owowow." Well, at
least she got it over the net.
"As you wish..." intones Wyn, neither backing off 'nor
advancing at Fox's orders. And remaining irritatingly
bland, despite her eyes tracking the ball like a
Border Collie eyeing an errant sheep. The first one
to call Wyn a b*tch gets kicked in the shins, though.
She whistles a little at the low pass, twitches her
lips as N'ano gets conked in the head, and then backs
up to about midcourt to keep an eye on the return.
"Who's got it?"
Caeran chuckles. So N'ano can hit himself with the
ball. He loves this game. Suddenly, the orb whistles
past him. He misses the opportunity for a nice set.
"Uh...I don't got it," he sates, hoping that somebody
else does.
Lucan positions himself back into his appropriate spot
on the court and awaits the ball to be countered back
across to them. That Drutoley certainly can hit.. as
proven in that last spike he did. The same spike /he/
missed. Err... cough. Now that the ball has been hit
back and forth a few times, mebbe he can redeem
himself if he actually hits the ball this time around.
"Got it!" he says. So, taking a step forward and
leaping into the air, the SeaCliffer wails that ball
to the other side of the net..
"Nah. They look like a bunch ov' bovine, the way they
all run around after the ball and smack into things.
And even the way some ov' them run /away/ from the
ball, like they're gettin' chased by summat'." Trik
comments on over to Thistia with a thin set of lips.
Crunch goes the sweetstick, and up comes the mug to
peel her sour attitude off. "I say, though, I like
these types ov' things. It gives me an excuse to lay
in the sand and drink. Yes'sah. Mighty fine day.." The
contents of the mug are taken in small sips while the
rider scans the area.
"Alright, I--" Drutoley begins, taking a rapid couple
of steps backwards to accomodate the high ball. "No,
no, not I don't!" Erp. It's over even his head, a
high, narrow-arching ball that's destined to land in
the middle. "Bianca, Lyria! Come forward, come for--"
But.. is it too late?
And there it goes... The ball's not exactly in N'ano's
range, and it's getting closer and closer to the
ground, so a little "Someone got that?" encouragement
is given to the others in hope that someone'll save
the ball.
Lyria stares at the ball, waiting for it in her
corner,"Yours!" Pause...It heads to the ground.
">..Oooor not.
Thistia grins, nodding her agreement. She laughs at
the idea of people running away from the ball.
"Sounds like the perfect excuse for some people to be
silly and crazy and others to be lazy and have a nice
relaxing afternoon." She smiles, clearly planning on
the latter as she gets comfortable, curled up on the
sand.
Nadine skids down the beach from the plateau until
she's a few steps well in sight, then immediately
slows to a casual
I-really-don't-care-whether-I'm-here-or-not saunter.
She glances at the game, her eyes skimming over the
players, then peers around in search of others who
aren't playing, thus remaining, for the moment, simply
standing on the sand a ways away from the bulk of the
people as she tries to understand what's happening and
mutters about chores that make people late.
N'ano drops to his knees as the ball hits the ground,
emitting a long "NOOOOOOOOO!" Aww. Surely it's not the
end of the world, is it? He's nearly crying, so it
must be. Eventually though, he gets ahold of himself,
stands, and wipes at his face. "1 to 1 now, right?"
The crowd goes wild as the ball goes down on the
Wavecutter side, and a few marks are exchanged between
those that have placed bets. This is growing into a
very festive occasion for the Candidates and weyr
residents.
Drutoley, unlike N'ano, controls his disappointment as
he turns to gesture to his teammates. "Okay, let's try
something a little different. We've got to cover these
gaps, I think, so Bianca - You're back middle, so you
step into this hole. Lyria's got the back corner of
her half, N'ano will watch the net, and I'll try to
get them before they even come over.. That should work
well enough."
Since the game is quite intense, it builds up an
appetite for cider. As the ball is exchanged to the
other side, N'ano quickly makes his way to the
sideline for another cider drink. The Lemos liquor
will have to hold out till the end... "Cover the net?
Suuure," he states once he makes his way quickly back.
"That should work."
Lucan heads back to his left side position while he
grins at his achievement. "One serving, one!" he says
loud enough for everyone to hear. Facing the other
team now, the stablehand gets ready for someone to
serve the ball on his team. And that someone is Wyn.
"C'mon, Wyn! Let 'em have it.." Clapping his hands
together a few times, his focus then returns to the
other team.
From above, Dsalth wings down and lands on the beach.
Dsalth lands, scattering sand about with his wings.
Dsalth watches with interest as P'rru descends
carefully
Speaking with her hands; fingers wiggle with amusement
towards the court and even the faint resembelence of a
smirk touches up her features, "Like /canine/
training!" Her tone changes to fit the mood, "'Ere'
boy! 'Ere girl! Go get the ball, dimglow! Go on! Fetch
that ball!" Laughter turns her high-pitched mock tone
into a barrel of baritone, clutching her stomach with
her other hand. However, when it seems that N'ano's
side is losing, Trik doesn't seem to take kindly to
this, "You're...You're making our wing look like it's
nothin' but the rear of a bovine! Shapen up, N'ano!"
Caeran smiles as team Stormcrest scores their first
point. "Yeah, Wyn! Wail that ball! Make them eat
porcine bladder!" He wonders if they should do some
rearranging themselves. Then again, with Fox running
around everywhere their area is pretty well covered.
Lyria doesn't really get dissapointed. Rawr. She may
just play harder. Nose wrinkles up and she shifts her
feet around in the sand. No ball will touch the sand
in /her/ corner. She's over her little fit of
furiosity quick enough and grinning widely. "Hey Trik,
I don't see /you/ out here playing!" she shouts over
to her other fellow wingmate. 'Sides. They're not
loosing. They're just tied.
Dsalth lands up the far end of the beach, in amongst
another knot of dragons who seem to be keeping
relatively out of the way. His rider, dressed in mango
coloured boarshorts makes his way quickly towards the
net, the crowd, the game. "Who's taking bets? Anyone
keeping tabs on wagers?" Purr is urgent in this
request as he barely pays heed to the teams or the
sport, but really seeks out who's got the marks.
Wyn crinkles her nose as she catches the ball, padding
over to the serving line drawn in the sand, and
tossing the ball and catching it a few times
experimentally. "Porcine bladder would probably be
anything but edible. Their pride, I can arrange."
the 'Reachian avers, before pursing her lips
thoughtfully, ignoring Vorkoroth's helpful suggestions
about trajectory and velocity, lining up, tossing the
ball in the air a final time and then... firing it
straight and fast across the net, directly at the
throat of whoever is tall and unlucky on the opposing
team.
N'ano is tall enough, actually, and in the line of
fire. Hands raise as the ball nears, and rather than
knocking it over, he sets it up, backing up for
Drutoley to bump it over if possible.
"Getitgetitgetit!" he chants once the ball has left
his fingertips.
Drutoley squeaks. Oh, it's a strangled squeak, yes, as
he quickly ducks. Not blocking a serve, no way, no
how. "Lyria! That one's yours. Get ready for it -
She's a beast!" Well, it wasn't the other B-word he
could've called her, at least. "Just tap it, or you'll
send it out of bounds! Or N'ano - N'ano, yours!"
Someone, really. Anyone.
"I am playing! I'm playing the offering-moral-support
part of the game, Y'see. That's what I do best, Lyria,
and some'un's gotta' do it!" Trik cat calls from over
the crest of her mug, offering up a bemused simper.
P'rru is noticed as Dsalth lands and Agzanth eyes the
brown for a moment. Bets and marks? Gollyno. This
rider always loses a bet with these types of ordeals.
Her best bet is runner racing. Now that is a sport
she'd bet her Weyr on.
Lyria watches N'ano set the ball. And then Drutoley
not get it. Squeak. Lyri takes the couple of steps
forwards to bump the ball back over, it skimming the
top of the net and barely making it over. Phew. Close
one?
Way back over there Dsalth settles, in amongst the
blues Agzanth and Vokoroth, offering both grumbles
about how this occaison has caused him to miss the
incoming tide at Tillek. P'rru meanwhile, has found an
ally- B'nk is here, as the wager-rider usually is, and
marks are quietly swapped between the pair. Then Purr
needs a front seat and he slips towards the front of
the crowd, only now noticing his former wingmate "Go
Wyn!" cheers the brownrider, as if that'll help.
"Knock 'em dead!" Guess which team he bet on?
Leah cheers for both teams, cheering for the team that
last team to hit the ball. "You can do it!" she says
to them. Her fair cheering their own way with
chirping.
Fox is tiring rapidly of this ball-batting.. thing.
It's quite namby-pamby, when you get down to it.
Noticing the small gathering of female riders, he
decides it's time to show a little.. muscle. A little
spit and polish, if you will. Dare he say..
/Machismo/. With a cocky leer, he swaggers up to the
net and peers through at N'ano. "Hey, wherry-legs," he
sneers softly. "Your team gonna return the ball, or
give it to you as a consolation prize for the ones you
lost when you picked this team? Eh? Things gettin' a
little slow in the furs, aren't they, old man.. Life
not as.. fiery as it once was..?"
N'ano just sneers back at Fox, "Wh--WHAT!? Shards man!
Where in--" Ah, forget that. N'ano's easily
distempered, thus why he jolts towards Fox, knocking
both him and the net over in the maneuver. "I'm plenty
sure that I'm gettin' way more than you ever will in
your /life/!" Idle returned comment, "And I'd watch
what you say buddy, you ain't gonna be stayin' in the
Weyr very much longer if you don't!" And with that, he
pushes the young man down into the sand and scoots up,
tossing his arms to the side as he leaves the
situation, "I ain't playin' no more..." And
apparently, no one else can either since the net has
since, well, been slain.
Alasse starts awake, sitting up and blinking. Nope,
she wasn't actually asleep. "Was... Who's winning?"
She looks toward the sandball net, seeing the net down
in the sand. "Um?" she throws out to anyone who will
answer. She looks from side to side hopefully,
wondering what happened.
Drutoley's jaw drops in shock - Such manners! "Now,
now, fellas.. I don't know what was said, but I'm sure
it's nothing to lose tempers over." Wrong. He rushes
forward, clapping a sturdy hand on N'ano's shoulder.
"You okay, Weyrleader? He didn't lay a hand on you,
did he?" Troubled eyes flicker towards Fox, though he
makes no effort to pick the man up. "Here, Fox, you're
no more than a Candidate here, just like me. You watch
you mouth around people and stop causing trouble,
mind."
Pendren shakes his little boo-tay down the trail from
the plateau.
Fox skids backwards into the sand, casting an
embarassed look around him. Hrmph. Scrawny Weyrleader
has more in him than he though. Well, them's the
breaks. "Hey, N'ano - I ain't the one assaulting
innocent Weyrfolk, here. Nobody heard what I said, but
they all saw you push me down!" A small band of rabbly
travelers raises a ragged cheer for their fallen hero
as the betting turns a little more sinister. "Easily
offended, eh, N'ano?"
Caeran shrugs. "Well, I guess that's over." He moves
toward the refreshments, ready to have a nice mug of
fermented beverage that is forbidden to apprentices.
Journeyman Enpycee, however, sees the net go down, and
immediately her facial expression is more jovial.
"We'd better be going, Caeran," she says, grabbing his
arm just as he gets his hand on a bottle. "It's a long
way back to Harper Hall, you know." Caeran waves
feebly as he is dragged away.
Caeran goes home.
P'rru steps forwards, shaking his head at the ruined
net "Nonsense, Weyrleader, we'll get this net back up
in a moment..." He calls, busying around the edge.
Purr might just be motivated by losing a few marks
here, but nevertheless, the old traditionalist glowers
first at this Fox dude, and then at N'ano, muttering
about how High Reaches weyrleaders never behaved like
that!
Lyria runs toward the situation, rather stuck between
wanting to break Fox's nose and trying to drag N'ano
away. Well, she doesn't do either, but she does strut
over to the fallen Fox to shake her head in disdain
and point out calmly,"There are no words for your
idiocy." Especially if that was to impress some female
riders in skimpy clothing - Lyri happening to be one
of them. Headshake. "There goes that fishing net..."
she mumbles as she inspects the net with a shrug, then
leaves for the sidelines, perking up as she looks
around,"Isn't there supossed to be some cider 'round
here?"
Looking a tad worse for the wear, a tea-sipping,
nose-twitching Pendren stalks out onto the beach
looking for some sun. Tea o'course is sipped
occationaly, but it seems to be consequentialy
forgotten when Pendren comes upon the small gathering.
A tentative smile is awarded those he half-knows,
before he promptly sneezes. Trust Pendren to get sick
in a tropical climate in the height of summer.
Trik stares. Her jaw slacks some, falling ajar to
catch proverbial flies. Did he just /say/ that? He
did! Standing from her lounging spot in the sands,
Trik wiggles her mug in the direction of the offender,
sputtering out a few droplets of spit. She's so angry
she could...well, spit. "Aw, Son, He ain't easily
offended, Y'see...It's that he has this thing, Y'know,
called dignity to keep that gapping bubbly-sized hole
in your face /shut/ when it comes to such the likes of
you. You're nothing but a /boy/!" A hand seizes to
stand on her hip, "Thinkin' the best you've pro'lly
gotten was a late night look into the bath
chambers..."
Nadine quickly covers her mouth with a hand to hide
her sudden onslaught of snickering. Still standing
apart from everyone else, she folds her arms, smirking
crookedly, and scuffs her foot through the sand. After
a moment, she decides she needs to be closer to hear
just what's going on, and starts cautiously making her
way through a somewhat stunned crowd as nonchalantly
as she can.
N'ano cocks his head to the side as Drutoley's hand
clasps his shoulder, "Huh? Oh--I'm fine." As Fox
continues to babble on, N'ano rolls his eyes, choosing
just to ignore the kid. He does turn around though,
holding a fist out at him, "So you wanna keep it
goin', eh? Well, I've got great news for you--you're
goin' home! That's right! You're hereby suspended from
the Weyr!" Oh yeah, baby. N'ano's got the power.
Booyeah. And now he ignores anything further Fox might
say. Another cup of the cider is poured, the bottle
picked up and waved towards Lyria, "Some right
here..." See? Back to normal.
Lyria beams at N'ano and finds herself a cup of cider
and a nice spot on the sand to sit and watch the waves
and the people.
Fox jumps to his feet, sweeping back vermillion curls
to reveal his haughty expression. "I wouldn't want to
stay in a Weyr with -you- as the top man, anyway! A
man who'd be better on a harlot green, ruling over
Ista Weyr? For shame." With a dark sneer, he spits at
N'ano's feet and stalks off, surrounded by his posse
of unshaven, unbathed men.
Alasse stands up as the realization of what occured
slowly (very slowly) dawns on her. Her jaw drops as
she gets the point, and she looks quickly from N'ano
to the lad, then it drops even further as she hear's
her brother's ultimatum, if that's possible. "Um..."
she says, half to herself, and takes a few quick steps
toward N'ano.
P'rru is still jimmying with that net, in desperation
it seems because B'nk, now flanked by L'oan, is
snickering, having yet again won money off the older
brownrider. "Oh come along, folks, just a bit of a
scandal, weyrleaders through rotten types out all the
time, we're still playing here...there's still points
to be scored!" Ramble,mutter. Is that deep chuckling
sound from over yonder Dsalth -really- laughing at his
rider?
Pendren was just out for a quiet stroll! A quiet
stroll dang nabbit! Drama seems to be in full bloom
and the only bit of what seems to have been a lengthy
confrontation and now-- A candidate going home? He was
never particularily fond of Fox, sure is sure, but
what the-- Wait. No. Oh no he dinn't. Snap, snap,
snap. Harlot green?! Pendren just happens to -like-
greens and -like- N'ano and, well, with a sneeze and a
snork, he strides on over looking positively out of
sorts.
Leah sighs as the game is disrupted and stands up to
get a better look, she doesn't walk over to them, she
instead stays where she stands. She wonders briefly if
they are going to continue with the game or not.
Drutoley casts a sorrowing look at N'ano, obviously
quite distraught over the confrontation. Flowers never
yell at each other! Saplings don't push each other
down! Oh, how he longs for the simple peace of his
gardens. He looks about to cry - And what a sight that
would be! A man as big as he, breaking down like a
child. He needs.. a hug. Sniffle.
Disturbed, Alasse snatches a mug of that cider,
bringing it over to N'ano. She kneels in the sand
near him, and pushes the mug close. "Perhaps you need
something stronger?" she suggests. "Maybe some food?"
She peers at him, eyes wide and more than a bit
concerned.
"Something stronger!?" And that's where N'ano's voice
cracks. Oooh boy. Back to adolescence. "Ah honey,
don't think there's anythin' much stronger than--well,
yeah there is, but not this..." N'ano grins, accepting
the mug of cider anyway from his sister. "But
thanks--" Of course, he doesn't really know the
strength of Gar's Cider now, does he?
"He jus' needs some lemos. Y'always leave a man be
when he's drinkin' down a mug. Can't disturb him, I
say, or it ruins his thoughts." Speaking of food, Trik
rollicks on down towards the set-tables, plucking a
few bakery items stuffing them into the pockets of her
coat. Nothing looks suspicious here, officer. A chunk
of bubbly is scrapped onto a plate and taken back to
where she was nestled up in the sands near Agzanth,
nearing to be oblivious to anyone on the beach. It's
just her and the bubbly pie, and some nice cider.
Alasse grins at her brother. "Then maybe something
less strong is better." She laughs quietly, eyes
dancing. "We don't want our beloved weyrleader flat
on his back from whatever's in that bottle tomorrow,
huh? Wouldn't do." She shakes her head emphatically,
sending strands of hair flying around her face.
"Can't ruin our reputation of having the most handsome
Weyrleader on Pern by having him clutching his head
now."
Pendren slogs his way past excited brats, bickering
aunties, and the occational dragon on his way to a
certain bulk of blue and a certain lounging rider.
"Trik?" Is querried stuffily as the sick Dren putters
a few feet away and plops, still sipping at cool tea.
P'rru just sighs, stubbing his toe in amongst the
waylaid sandball net. With a droop to his shoulders, a
sign of definate disapointment, the brownrider turns
tail and heads towards the waterline, his bare feet
not noticing the water that rushes round his ankles.
"Stupid sport, I must remember to only bet on eggs and
dragonpoker.."
N'ano laughs at Trik for her comment, holding the
bottle of Lemos up in one hand with a mock-toast while
the other keeps the mug of cider to his mouth, take a
long sip. "Aye--though there ain't nearly 'nough in
this bottle to keep me satisfied, so the cider'll do
for now," he grins... and then he melts at Alasse's
comment, reaching over to noogie her head, "Aren't you
sweet," he laughs, offering a quick salute towards
P'rru as he breezes by "Hey 'ol man! You lose a few
marks or somethin'? Sorry 'bout that--I can pay you
the difference if y'like?"
P'rru glances over his shoulder "No, N'ano, no need.
It'll teach me a worthy lesson.." the brownrider calls
back to the passing comment from the weyrleader, hands
slung on his hips, his mango boardshorts getting damp
at his knees where the water sprays up.
Trik isn't very attractive when stuffing her face full
of bubbly, peering up at the common voice of Pendren
with a toothy red-stained grin. Then again, she isn't
really all that attractive at any moment when she's
eating. "Sit down!" Is all that commands the bluerider
towards the white-knot. A swig of cider is taken so
she can ease up her speech. The boy is overlooked for
a moment before sticking a finger at him, "Farnath,
'Dren! Y'look awfully ill. Swallow a trundlebug or
summat'?"
Xaylianx blinks in from ::between::!
Alasse grins, ducking away from her brother. She
stands up, brushing sand off her hands, and shrugs.
"Hey, I don't want people to think that just because
my brother is a drunken maniac I am too. Gotta look
out for myself, right?" She winks, and takes off for
the bowl, yelling a goodbye. "I'll try to find Neana
for you!"
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