Bored Candidate, Idle Time (3073.9.5)

[Nicole]

A smile flashed over Elora's face at N'kio's description of her. She glanced back at N'kio, tilting her head to the side, eyes grazing back and forth over him. "Intelligent, up until, oh, thirty seconds ago, was never something that was associated with me, nor encouraged." Her eyes flicked downwards, then back up to his face. "It's hard to break from the old when there's no support for the new. I don't expect you to understand being alone, though."

Her eyes flickered over to the face of the Black before turning back to his leg, carefully covering her hands - rather than his hide - in oil and leaning into the scar, rubbing it gently. Intelligent fiery young woman? I can live with that, mmm. Though he doesn't know quite how fiery, I think.

She did want to keep playing that game; that she enjoyed, that was as much a part of her as that innate desire to understand the world around her, to look up what other people wouldn't explain when she wanted to know. You'll know when you're a Weyrling? Psh.

But that - that had never been looked at approvingly. Knowledge in areas involving rooms with beds (or tables, or pianos, or the wall, or, well-) were one thing. But to just know things?

She had had enough of this conversation. This wasn't something she wanted to deal with, not right now. Why couldn't they just flirt and she have fun and they be done with it?

Because, whispered the voice in the back of her head, That was the life you wanted to leave behind.

She locked the voice up in a box in the back of her mind and dug into Metanath's leg, pushing all of her energy into helping the leg of the Black.

[Moo]

N’kio leaned against Metanath and watched Elora work, catching the glances she made at him with a faint smile. When he had heard her comment on how she had never been considered intelligent before, his eyes widened. What sort of life had she come from? he wondered, finding the sort of attitude she described unusual, to say the least. He said nothing, though. If there was an appropriate response that should have been said, he did not know it, and so remained silent.

Not everyone…had the same path you were given, Mine, Metanath crooned, and relaxed against his forelimbs when he felt Elora pressing into his scar. Yes, that feels nice, he said to her.

N’kio looked down at the ground and nodded. I know that, I just find it…difficult to comprehend sometimes. Through his connection with Metanath, he picked up on the dragon’s contented state, and through it felt slightly better. And here I am, supposed to have the answers for these sorts of affairs.

Metanath lifted his head. You are a larger fool than I gave you credit for, and flashed his Rider a toothy grin. Elora then pushed hard into his leg and he roared in surprise, piercing the ground with his claws, the muscle around the scar tissue jumping.

Suddenly N’kio felt that same spike of pleasure and pain and moaned again, leaning against Metanath for support. A look of complete shock fell over him, and he placed a hand over his face, groaning inwardly. This will quickly get out of hand, he said, feeling his face redden, and glanced over to Elora. There is no chance she did not hear that. This is your fault, you know. Shards, how embarrassing!

Metanath rumbled and swished his tail. Mmmm, I told you it felt nice, Mine. You amuse me, you know.

[Nicole]

A wicked grin flashed it's way over Elora's face, glancing at N'kio out of the corner of her eye. So the dragon-Rider bond is that strong, eh? His attempt to cover her face just made the grin go stronger.

"Well, one of you pleases easy." The comment slid out before she could stop it, but it sounded bubbly and amused rather than a true attempt to tease him. She absently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and placed her hands back on the hide of Metananth, resisting the urge to tease him farther. "I don't even have to touch you."

[Moo]

Metanath snorted, eyes a fast spinning green as he looked over to Elora. Usually I feel what he does, but today…it seems as if it is the other way around, he said to her, not bothering to keep the conversation private.

“Hey, thanks for that,” N’kio replied aloud to Metanath, hearing every word, and he laughed out of bashfulness. He looked over to Elora, eyes flashing with amusement. “Aye, I suppose I do. And yes, you would not have to, but there’s no fun in that. Well,” he paused, and added, “No fun for me, leastways. Maybe for you two,” he gestured to Metanath and Elora both, and shrugged.

I find it amusing.

Oh, go Between.

[Nicole]

Elora's grin twitched wider at Metanath's comment, falling silent for a moment as she followed the muscle down his leg and back up, spreading more oil on his hide as she did so.

She liked N'kio. He was the same as most of the men she had known on basic things, but... different, in the details. Elora liked details. Perhaps it was because he was a Rider, though that couldn't be all of it. Where he was raised, maybe? That could make a man different.

She continued to focus on Metanath's leg, working on the scarred area a little more. Perhaps he was just inherently nicer. Personalities and all that. But that comes from where you come from, doesn't it?

Except her personality - or at least, part of it - hadn't fit where she came from, but she still had that. Perhaps not everybody were - well - assholes. The boxed up part of her brain helpfully supplied the description. Let's face it; they're really the only people who were interested in you up until now, for obvious reasons.

N'kio had been interested in her for obvious reasons, but that had been a game he had voluntarily walked away from.

Perhaps the game could be picked up again.

"Oh, don't worry, N'kio. You'll get your turn." She flashed him a grin, giving Metanath's leg a few final squeezes before moving her over to his other back leg. Perhaps.

[Moo]

N’kio eyed Elora, almost fearfully so, as she continued to work the muscles along Metanath’s leg, waiting for any sign that would suggest she had found another tender spot. He did not want to go through that again, least of all in front of her.

Do not pretend you would not like it, he whispered in N’kio’s mind.

Now what’s gotten into you?

Oh, I just know you, Mine. You are not so difficult to read.

Some friend you are, said N’kio.

Indeed, the best you will ever have.

Slowly, he lowered his hand from his face and tried to return to some semblance of normality. He tilted his head brought his eyes back to Elora. He was not sure if she thought him a pain or not – wouldn’t be the first time, either – but as far as he was concerned, he found he enjoyed being in her company quite a lot – with the slight exception of what had just happened to him.

It was her grin and cheeky comment that brought him back to the present, and he smiled at her both her beauty and audacity. “Oh no, that—that won’t be necessary,” he stammered, finding his voice. “You don’t have to do that.”

Metanath stretched out in the time it took her to switch legs, and he gave a loud sigh. Seems like you would not need it anyway, with the way things are going now, he said, conveniently speaking to both N’kio and Elora in a voice that almost sounded like he was smirking.

[Nicole]

Elora turned her head away from him, letting her hair cover her face as a giggle escaped her at his answer. She pulled the bottle out of her pocket and laughed louder at Metanath's comment.

A grin dancing across her face, she fell silent as she worked on Metananth's leg. The urge to tease N'kio was nipping at her, but she tried to press it back; he was already having a hard enough time spitting out his sentences. Better give him a moment or two to compose himself and see what he said next, right?

So instead of talking, she focused on finishing the oiling on the Black, rubbing his other hind leg. I'm going to do just a basic oiling on your front legs. You don't put as much pressure on them normally, and since I got the back, you should theoretically be okay.

[Moo]

Metanath rumbled at her amusement, tail swishing as he looked back and forth between the two. It has not even been a day, and already you speak without the slightest show of hesitation. He nodded in approval. Yes, yes, that is good. But whether or not that was toward her innate understanding of how their conversation worked, or to her own comment, he did not specify. Silence passed between them all for a few moments. He eyed N’kio, who in turn was watching Elora, and then tapped him on the back with the tip of his nose.

Mine, he said, speaking to him. You should say something. Don’t be rude.

Suddenly bumped, N’kio turned around at the sound of the voice. He glanced over to Elora, who was finishing up on the back legs, then once again to Metanath. What is there to say? he asked.

He shuffled his claws. Ask her about herself. Just don’t mention the weather.

And why not?

That is all I hear from you sailors, day in and day out. No doubt she would like to hear something else. I certainly know I would. Metanath nudged him toward Elora.

That is a very important piece of information, I will have you know.

Not on dry land it isn’t. Now go!

Unceremoniously pushed closer to Elora, N’kio smiled at her and considered what to say. Metanath lay his head back down and waited for her to come nearer, and listened intently.

“So,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “How are you liking it here at this Weyr? Have you been here long? I heard there was a Hatching recently…” N’kio stroked at his beard in thought.

Not bad, commented Metanath, tone encouraging, if a bit hopeful.

“This cold air you’re getting here would be perfect for flying.”

The dragon groaned.

N’kio looked back up at her, a small smile on his face. “Have you flown before, Elora?”

Metanath lifted his head up in surprise. Ohhh! He had not expected the conversation to go that way.

Oh, ye of little faith, replied N’kio, resisting the urge to laugh at him.

[Nicole]

Why would she hesitate? Elora raised an eyebrow at the dragon, though the Black couldn't see it from his angle. It wasn't that difficult once it happened. Strange, certainly. But all you had to do was think in the proper direction, almost like talking, but different. Hard to explain, certainly, but not hard to get a grasp on. Probably easier once you Impressed, too.

Elora turned around just as N'kio was pushed towards her, absently taking a step back from him out of surprise. "The Weyr? It's fine, I suppose."

She didn't respond to the Hatching comment - clearly she hadn't Impressed, and if she hadn't Impressed there wasn't much to discuss about it, was there? Popping the oil bottle out of her pocket, she moved forward past him, beginning her work on the front legs.

Cold air would be perfect for flying? She supposed. Warm air would be better, in her opinion, strictly for lack-of-chapped-lips-and-red-nose reasons. But cold air could be nice too, especially for dragons. Did they got hot when they flew for long periods of time?

She didn't know.

His next question caught her off guard, and she turned her head towards him, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Flown? Just the once, when I came here. I was preoccupied mentally at the time, though, so it wasn't - I mean to say, I don't remember much of it." She turned her head back towards the leg.

[Moo]

N’kio nodded. Naturally, he should have suspected that she had been Searched, but it would not do to assume whether she was raised here or not. He wondered what other Hold or Weyr she came from. Not that it mattered, really, so long as it was not one that bordered the ocean. “There is little of mine here that I could trade you for your kind service,” he started, and gestured toward the oiled dragon.

“We packed light and would not have more on us, leastways until a ready about comes from this Weyr again. I could not take you very high with these minimal straps, but if you find yourself interested...I would be more than willing to take you flying. As compensation for your help today.”

Metanath regarded Elora calmly. I would not let you fall, on my egg, he offered, if you would like to sail the skies.

[Nicole]

Elora blinked and turned around, managing to snap her jaw shut. "What?"

It was Metanath's swearing not to let her fall that made her eyes widen. She hadn't been expecting this, not at all. Playing the game had been fun, but usually that had only one end; doing a favor had required nothing from her and had been enjoyable for her.

Perhaps not all men are the same? The little voice that nagged her often spoke up, and a small smile appeared on her face. She was quiet for a moment, and then she nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

[Moo]

Her expression alone made asking worth it. N’kio grinned. “I am glad to hear of it,” he replied, voice warm with approval. “It’s not much, I know, but I figure I could at least give you that.”

Metanath tucked his head against his chest and wriggled his body, like a feline preparing to pounce, but this time, it was out of excitement. Clear weather flying was his favorite.

“We would have to wait, though,” he said, and ran a hand over the dragon’s hide. It came away with a thin trace of oil. “I might be used to flying at odd angles, but I don’t think you would enjoy it if the saddle slipped in mid-flight.”

He wiped his hand on the underside of Metanath’s wing, and the Black squirmed under his touch – he was a little ticklish, after all.

“Just until the oil dries a bit more,” N’kio promised. “And then, we shall get you all sorted out.”

[Nicole]

Elora looked over at the wriggling Black and ran a hand through her hair, the small smile refusing to leave her face. He wants to take me flying.

This - this was new. If she talked to men, it was usually because they wanted to take her one area, and it wasn't anything like this. That was her own fault; that's what her profession dictated, and not many people wanted to associate with somebody like her.

But that was in the past. That wasn't here. And while she may enjoy that, this - this was different. Perhaps not all men are the same after all.

His comment about the saddle slipping made her laugh. "Oh, trust me, N'kio. My balance is impeccable." Her smile slipped into a suggestive grin. "But for your sake, I suppose we'll wait." She couldn't help the teasing; it was second nature.

But she was grateful for his kindness, Metanath's kindness, this opportunity. "You know, you don't have to feel obligated to do this." She reached up and undid the smock, letting it fall into her open hand. The shirt underneath clung to her chest, accenting all the curves on her body. She didn't notice. She had forgotten what she was wearing.

[Moo]

N’kio had an idea of where that comment could go, but he said nothing, his only response a smirk. However, before he could contemplate a scenario where her balance might be needed, she spoke again, and his face colored, almost as if he had been caught. Almost. “But you see, I don’t feel obligated at all…” he began, and absently glanced down as she took her smock off.

He had seen many women before, and yet, he could not help but look. She seemed not to notice the difference her smock gave her, which made the situation all the worse for him. Still…

Those are not her eyes, you know, came a mental prod.

He quickly looked up, not wanting to seem like he had been staring for too long. Though to be honest, he was not sure how much time had passed. He laughed nervously and scratched at the back of his neck. Just what I needed to happen. Fantastic, he thought, inwardly kicking himself.

“I, I’m sorry about that. I found myself…distracted, and I apologize for staring. It was not polite of me.” N’kio cleared his throat and met her eyes once more, forcing himself to stare at her eyes and nothing else. A man could try.

“Well...as I said before, I don’t feel obligated at all. I hope I do not make you uncomfortable by saying this, but I find your company rather enjoyable. It is of no obligation to me to take you flying. I would very much like to, if it pleases you to do so.”

[Nicole]

Elora glanced down at her shirt as N'kio began apologizing. At the end of it all - and his repetition that he didn't feel obligated to fly - she smiled slightly and shrugged, her shoulders moving up and down.

"I'm used to being stared at, and if it pleases you, it doesn't bother me. No sweat off my back." She grabbed an oil bottle, tossed aside after it was made empty, and tucked it under her arm.

Most men don't apologize, either. I could get used to him. He, at least, tries to be polite. Maybe chivalrous, even. She looked up at N'kio, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with a free hand. "And I would love to go flying with you."