29.Jan.13, 11:56 AM
Z’ia had clearly developed a case of the giggles. The breathy little sounds were tumbling free of the tiny bluerider at odd intervals, popping up between the various words spoken – or growled – by the various riders in the room. He was doing terribly at the game, but hardly seemed at all put off by it, the young man not really paying all that much attention to it at any rate; it was so much more fun to watch the two greenriders throwing tantrums when his fellow blueriders made snide comments. The way B’jin flared up, however, really knocked Z’ia over and he burst into proper laughter as he picked up his next hand, one arm wrapped lightly around his stomach.
“Y-y-yeah, D-d-dhyss,” Z’ia choked out, gasping suddenly and trying valiantly to capture his breath and regain his voice so as to sound less like his timid dragon and more like himself. Giggles continued to rupture past his steadying breathing, however, and dark green eyes danced with deep humour. “Fuck you.” Z’ia toppled off the edge of sanity once more with that, laughing delightedly while Aveleth stirred slightly on the edge of his mind and Plague gave a squeak of interest, fluttering over to land on Z’ia’s head and peer at him with an upside-down twist of her head. Whatever was so funny!? Z’ia muffled his giggles by biting his hand, while peering happily at his cards.
Waiting until B’jin lead the way, Z’ia watched the others before revealing his own hand. Folding was for pansy holder girls; the tiny bluerider didn’t give two hoots how much clothing he lost at the end of the night, just watching A’liran and B’jin was far more entertainment than he had hoped for. Plague took off from his head, as Z’ia poked his cards toward the pile for reshuffling, and reappeared with the wine glass in hand. It was empty, and Z’ia smiled at her in amusement. “Well, it’s a start.” Taking the glass, Z’ia wandered over to fill it with wine. When he had filled it, he returned leisurely to his seat, side tracking just enough to pass A’liran and leave a mockingly wet kiss on his cheek before bouncing over to his own seat and settling in.
“Next round?!” He beamed cheerfully at the group.
“Y-y-yeah, D-d-dhyss,” Z’ia choked out, gasping suddenly and trying valiantly to capture his breath and regain his voice so as to sound less like his timid dragon and more like himself. Giggles continued to rupture past his steadying breathing, however, and dark green eyes danced with deep humour. “Fuck you.” Z’ia toppled off the edge of sanity once more with that, laughing delightedly while Aveleth stirred slightly on the edge of his mind and Plague gave a squeak of interest, fluttering over to land on Z’ia’s head and peer at him with an upside-down twist of her head. Whatever was so funny!? Z’ia muffled his giggles by biting his hand, while peering happily at his cards.
Waiting until B’jin lead the way, Z’ia watched the others before revealing his own hand. Folding was for pansy holder girls; the tiny bluerider didn’t give two hoots how much clothing he lost at the end of the night, just watching A’liran and B’jin was far more entertainment than he had hoped for. Plague took off from his head, as Z’ia poked his cards toward the pile for reshuffling, and reappeared with the wine glass in hand. It was empty, and Z’ia smiled at her in amusement. “Well, it’s a start.” Taking the glass, Z’ia wandered over to fill it with wine. When he had filled it, he returned leisurely to his seat, side tracking just enough to pass A’liran and leave a mockingly wet kiss on his cheek before bouncing over to his own seat and settling in.
“Next round?!” He beamed cheerfully at the group.
Unless stated otherwise, Aveleth never speaks to anyone but Z'ia