The Antisocial Butterfly (Ghost/Open)

[Ailuran]

The lake ~ 76.03.16 ~ early evening

Steady, deliberate motions guided a needle through thick straps of hide to ensure that the delicate thin strip of leather, acting as string, would not break. It had been candlemarks since N'rel started the detailed stitching work on his own riding straps. For anyone else it would have been a simple task of re-enforcing them, finished in as little time as possible. N'rel, however, had a bad habit of making his own gear more complicated and intricate than it really needed to be. The light had long gone from his perch on Nysqualith's couch. Even with the bright daylight, it was fast becoming impossible to continue in his current position without the direct sunlight. Nysqualith, curled up behind his rider, decided to pounce on the opportunity to convince N'rel to leave their weyr. Even if it was only for a little while. The Bronze stretched out a little, letting his wings unfurl just enough in the confined space to allow for a gentle breeze when he moved them. N'rel's greying hair fell into his eyes a bit as the breeze hit his back. Startled by it, the rider pulled too hard on the thread and a quiet snap brought Nysqualith's movements (and the rumbling laughter at his rider's discomfort) to a sudden halt.

We shall move to the lake. You can finish it there, and maybe even speak to someone for once. The Bronze spoke quickly and with all the commanding presence he could muster. It was not the right move. A silence so thick that neither of them dared to breathe settled into the room. Nysqualith knew that N'rel was furious at him for both the disruption, and for the bossy order. N'rel knew that Nysqualith was just as furious at him for not speaking to hardly anyone for the 7 months they had been at Rainbow Mists. The silent mental stand off lasted only a moment before N'rel caved. He did really want to finish the straps.

"Shard it you wherry! Drag me in on one of your conversations with the other dragons, or try to get their rider to speak to me, and I will be using your thick hide to make a runnerbeast saddle. Got it?"

If that is how you want to use it, fine. My hide will make a fine saddle that shall make you very rich. I only thought it best to get more light so that you may finish before the day is out. I know how you dislike to work by firelight.

Mumbled swearing accompanied N'rel's climb onto the bronze back for the short trip down to the Bowl floor. He didn't stop cursing his dragon until the beast waded out into the water, choosing to be at the far side of the lake from where N'rel had chosen to work. It wasn't long before he was completely engrossed in his work again, oblivious to anyone else who was there.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

Rukbat was setting, sinking into the ocean as a red ball, turning the clouds to dusky orange and the sky to pinkish red. Ironically, it would be easier to see once Rukbat finished setting, leaving only the dusky grey evening light to be worked with. Despite that, or maybe because of it, T’kar was spending a rare few minutes basking in the last rays of light as Rukbat set. Even Ancalanath seemed subdued, sunning himself on the Heights as T’kar lounged next to the lake.

A shadow passed overhead. Idly, T’kar glanced up. The Bronze coming down to land looked like…

Yes, it’s Nysqualith.

T’kar’s eyes narrowed slightly as the Bronze settled and N’rel slid off. N’rel was clearly pre-occupied by something; he didn’t even notice T’kar lying there as he settled down to work on flight straps. That must have been his purpose in coming down here too, for Nysqualith waded out into the lake, heading for the opposite shore without any concern.

A couple seconds crept past, then T’kar stood and ambled over to where N’rel had settled. “Nice straps,” he commented, eyeing the almost decorative stitching. Kicking his legs out, he landed with a flop, leaning against a smallish rock.

“You happen to know anything about this whole “syndicate” thing? Heard anything on Lord Ser Ralt and Lady Harra?” The words were companionable enough, but the tone was, decidedly on the colder side of things.

[Shoki]

Kashpa stretched her arms above her head as she walked. She was glad that things were starting to get organized, everyone was working so hard together. Soon enough they likely wouldn’t need help from a spare harper. However, for now she was just glad enough for a spare moment to herself. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to do, until she spied a Bronze wading out into the water. Hmm. She moved to the side of the water, observing the king and wondering idly about dragons. She liked them, at least in theory. She wasn’t a Weyrbrat or anything and her brother might be a dragonrider but she certainly wasn’t. Still, she liked being around this place, she had come to like it. Or maybe it was just the people. She smiled a bit at that.

Something broke up her pondering and she looked to where she saw the Weyrleader and another rider talking. Well, the other man had bronze knots, so maybe he was the rider of the Bronze dragon? She got that little tickle in the back of her head again, and she sat down where she was, pulling her legs up and resting her hands on her knees. She then put her chin on her hands, looking at the men with a curious eye and a devilish smile. Well, what could they be talking of? Important matters perhaps? The Weyrleader had already been apart of a…memorable event of late, perhaps one more was in order.

[Ailuran]

A voice above N'rel started speaking. If he had been settled into his project a bit more he wouldn't have heard the Weyrleader at all. "...Anything about this whole “syndicate” thing? Heard anything on Lord Ser Ralt and Lady Harra?” was the only part he caught. His dark eyes found T'kar settling against a rock that was located a bit closer than he cared for. What on Pern would make anyone think he was interested in being social?

Despite the sudden discomfort of having T'kar settle down nearby, he returned focus to the leather in his hands. With a haughty chuckle he dismissed the Weyrleader's inquiry. "No." That was supposed to be the end of the conversation. The younger rider would probably become incredibly offended and either start yelling or simply walk away. That was what normally happened. However, something in the way T'kar spoke rubbed the Bronzerider the wrong way. Maybe it was the fact that the man had disrupted an otherwise productive evening. Whatever the reason, N'rel felt compelled to ruffle feathers. Two more stitches, and then N'rel looked back over at T'kar. "Tell me, Weyrleader," his tone was just a hair short of a sneer, "do you suspect me of being a member of the syndicate?"

Nysqualith surfaced after a brief dive. N'rel's odd mood made the Bronze look back over at the far shore. He then noticed a small figure watching the conversation between His and the Weyrleader. He slowly swam closer, not wanting to draw N'rel's attention to her. His rider would then just up and leave and Nysqualith wouldn't get the chance to find out who she was.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

T’kar’s nostrils flared, and he took a brief pause to throttle the rapidly growing fire of anger. Maybe he wasn’t under such good control as he’d thought.

That-!

Ancalanath, not now.

“Well, it’s interesting that you should assume that,” T’kar commented, forcing his voice into something more closely approximating civility. “Would you happen to know a reason why I should suspect any such thing? Other than an accident of timing that could happen to anyone.”

T’kar had no intention of divulging the hints he’d received, not yet, but…

Z’der’d skin you for withholding it, part of his mind commented. Besides…

“Because there seems to be a certain amount of hinting around in Cliffside that would seem to indicate that the syndicate anticipated a rider that owed them some favors showing up here not too long after the disappearance.”

Might work.

Worth trying, at least. He really is with them, he might just try and get in touch to let them know that someone’s been leaking stuff. And if he’s not, than … T’kar wanted to add a comment about not much time having been wasted, but the simple fact was, if N’rel wasn’t with them, than he and Ancalanath — not to mention Rilora, D’gan, and everyone else involved — would be right back at step one. Maybe step two. After all, they knew the syndicate existed.

[Shoki]

Hmm, it looked like they were carrying a conversation, of sorts. T’kar looked… not angry, or at least not actively angry. However, to her it was quite clear he wasn’t happy either. She could catch it in his eyes. So either the topic or the other man was causing him to be annoyed. The other man was not happy either, but it was different. More apparent for one. He also seemed to have something to keep his hand busy. He appeared to be sewing, at least from the motions he made. Interesting. Obviously T’kar had come to talk to the other man for some reason, and it was distinctly possible this man was not happy about it. She wasn’t privy to Weyr politics, at least not interweyr politics. Most of the people she had made connections with thus far were weyrfolk or those helping with relocation efforts.

She fell into thought as she watched them, before abruptly realizing that she was very much staring. Hmm, she was usually more subtle then that. She had come to see the dragon, might as well keep that as her story. Best not stay with her eyes glued to the two men, as she could be accused of eyeing them both at this rate. Not that either of them were unattractive, but she didn’t need that. So she turned her gaze back to the water, and she blinked rather rapidly. The Bronze was looking at her. Oh. Right. Dragons had eyes too, they could tell she was staring. Huh, what exactly did she do now?

Kashpa sat up, taking her hand off her knees and stretching out her legs, facing the water. She then grinned and gave the Bronze a wave. When in doubt, be friendly.