Long-term Borrowing [I'shan]

T'rielle had a certain proclivity for lifting food from the kitchens whenever he had the chance. There had been that one time where he'd stolen an entire, perfectly cooked herdbeast and proceeded to offer it to a highly amused Caxith. Things had gone downhill from there, apparently, though T'rielle had thought it was the funniest thing ever. The beast, it turned out, was meant for some important event or another (in retrospect he probably should have known that, but thinking things through was generally Caxith's job, and she hadn't particularly felt like helping him out on that specific occasion).

Come to think of it, she had a habit of being the most unhelpful individual on the face of the Earth whenever it would have been benificial for her to give her rider a bit of a helping hand. When he didn't need her commentary, on the other hand, she was a well of knowledge. Like where, exactly, he was failing to properly scratch her itchy head-knobs, why he should be fawning over her instead of 'that bluerider' (which was pretty much her way of referring to every bluerider in existence unless it really, truly mattered).

Right now, for example, the green was currently giving a running commentary of the comings and goings from the Kitchens from her vantage point on top of the Dining Hall while T'rielle did his honest best to ignore her and oil his riding leathers (which he could have sworn he'd just done but apparently not, according to Caxith's "infallible" memory which really didn't exist at all).

And there goes one of those Weyrbrats--oh, another one!

T'rielle rolled his eyes, though he couldn't help but give a little laugh. You trying to tell me something, there?

I'm bored and your attempts at thievery tend to be amusing. So go steal something.

It's not stealing, it's...long-term borrowing.

The green dragon simply hummed in amusement, rustling her wings a bit and settling her head back down on her crossed forelegs. T'rielle, for his part, did manage to finish his oiling before finally succumbing to Caxith's continued subtle commentary and making his way from his hut to the Kitchens. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting the surroundings in a reddish glow. Caxith gave a little rumble of approval at that observation, and T'rielle grinned, running a hand through his hair in what he thought was a casual gesture as he leaned against the entryway into the kitchens, narrowly missing getting run into by a giggling weyrbrat with an armful of bread.

T'rielle was hardly alone in his train of thought, though at least I'shan didn't suffer from a voice in the back of his head telling him to steal. The bluerider received a bemused alert form Ilveriath, who always regarded I'shan's energetic greenrider friends as generally benevolent, but also potentially bad influences. The blue dragon never hesitated to tolerate them, but it did mean he was...cautious when they were around. I'shan was unpredictable enough on his own. Things always got interesting.

Deep down, you love it

I'shan giggled a bit and stuck a meatroll in his mouth before poking his head out of the room he currently inhabited, looking down the hallway to T'rielle. I'shan waved, his mouth too full of meatroll to properly call out to the man, but his enthusiastic flailing was impossible to miss. It had been too long since he'd hung out with the wily greenrider! I'shan spent a lot of time with N'gelt these days, but he'd refused to make his old mistake of neglecting his friends again. He'd made sure to spend plenty of time with the bluerider gang, especially R'nd, but he hadn't seen many of his greenriders lately. What a nice surprise!

The bluerider bit through the roll and chewed quickly, swallowing the bite while pitching the roll to the floor. A flurry of chittering calls rang out as a blurr of brown and blue encompassed the discarded roll. Squeak and Spazz were eager to play tug-of-war with it, but Squee had his own designs. Ther largest of the three fire lizards pounced, sending his two smaller brothers sprawling before taking off across the floor with it. Of course, it was a little too heavy for him to properly lift, so he was more skimming the floor with it. Once he was a suitable distance away, Squeak chided Spazz for their shared failure. How were they supposed to get it back now?! Spazz chittered an apology before bolting off.

"Nawwww, so cute!" I'shan crooned at them before waltzing out of the room and strolling up to T'rielle. "What's up? Haven't seen you in a while," he said, popping the greenrider playfully on the shoulder.

T'rielle took another moment to survey the scene--and to nod an innocent greeting to one of the cooks, who shook a ladle threateningly at him. He raised both hands palm-out and grinned at her, doing his best not to look like the pilfering Weyrbrat they both knew he used to be--and that really hadn't changed all that much, aside from the Weyrbrat part. He reached out to snag a meatroll from the tray cooling on the table as soon as the robust woman turned her back, but was thoroughly distracted by the animated flailing and got a whack to the back of his hand for the trouble as the tray was swept out from under it and moved to a much safer location on the counter by the cook.

He gave the woman a wounded look, rubbing the back of his hand in an attempt to ease the sting. For all the time he'd spent pilfering food from the kitchens because he was too lazy (or not exactly presentable enough) to make an appearance in the Dining Hall proper, he had an astounding inability to predict when such retaliations were impending. Hearing the chittering of fire-lizards he turned back towards the doorway I'shan had been leaning out of with a grin on his face. He dimly heard I'shan's words, then saw the man himself waltzing out of the room in question, and grinned.

"Why, have you missed me?" He deadpanned, somehow managing to drop the grin for the entire five seconds it took to get the words out. Honesty was something that he never had to think very hard about, and as a result his attempts at deception, genuine or not, were never particularly good and more than a little comedic (for others) when he got carried away. His dragon, on the other hand, was much the opposite; she had no trouble with getting on the nefarious side, particularly when it came to T'rielle's safety (though luckily that was generally a problem that didn't need addressing).

Rubbing his shoulder unnecessarily he glanced around the room before his attention turned back to I'shan. "I have an incredibly boring life that's not even worth the telling. I wasn't expecting to see anyone in here, actually."

I'shan smirked, pointedly reaching out with one thin finger to prod the greenrider in the same spot. ''C'mon you pussy. I didn't hurt you that bad," he crooned, rocking from his toes to his heels and back again with a dangerous blend of energy and boredom. Shards today was a drag! The kitchen women were more bossy and naggy than usual, and up until now there had been absolutely no one to talk to.

"I wasn't either, really. There's shit all to do in here," he said, rolling his eyes as he motioned to the area around him. "C'mon, let's get away from our adoring fans..." He stood up on his tip-toes, waving at the glaring ladle-lady and flashing her the most charming smile he could manage. It came out a bit silly and he was fortunate enough to get out of it without having something thrown at him. "C'mon!"

Without thinking, he reached out to snatch at T'rielle's wrist and haul him along down the hallway. He never though twice about pulling a greenrider along. After all, they were greenriders! It was kind of what they were for, though I'shan surely never meant any of them harm. They were cute and charming and excellent company! Besides, all he wanted to do was go chat and explore and maybe steal something.

"So, what have you been up to? Anything cool? Any scandals or sexy flights or anything?" I'shan crooned as he walked along, bored out of his mind and hungry for something interesting to talk about. It didn't help that he wanted nothing more than to keep politics out of his brain...he was so sick of politics. It was nasty, scary business...

T'rielle had a brief moment where he had to resist the urge to stick his tongue out at I'shan like he was ten Turns old again. He would give the statement token defiance, but this wasn't a particularly rare occurrence. He had a fairly childish outlook on life--forgiveness was something that he had in spades, though his relatively thick hide didn't go to waste, either. He tended to take things for granted--like Caxith's mostly impeccable choice of Flight partners to date, for one.

He heard tales, everyone did, and while he wasn't the type to lay blame where it was unwarranted, he was well aware of the hierarchy within the Weyr and the opinions (also known as colourism) that went with it. Taking it in stride was part and parcel, in T'rielle's mind, though he didn't fault those who felt otherwise. He had never really had a heart to heart with another greenrider--his attention span, not to mention his personality in general, typically didn't do too well at getting people to open up about sensitive subjects--but gossip ran like wildfire in the Weyr, and most stories had a grain of truth to them.

"Oh, shove off," he muttered good-naturedly, flapping a hand at I'shan's finger without much hope or intent of actually making contact with the digit. He grinned at I'shan's antics and gave serious consideration to ducking himself in anticipation until the bluerider came down off his toes (which presumably meant that the coast was clear). He'd been at the receiving end of that woman's throwing arm more than once, and was always keen to avoid getting there again if he could help it. Not, of course, that he didn't bring these things on himself in the first place.

"I'm--okay!" He certainly wasn't going to argue (or get his arm ripped out of the socket, at the rate I'shan took off). He scrambled a bit to catch up, managing not to fall flat on his face (which had happened before). This, at least, was treatment he didn't mind--hell, if he did, he would have been happy to call himself a hypocrite as other people had a tendency to react too slowly for his liking and it wasn't like he was going to drag them off a cliff or into a lake (okay, he'd done the latter before, but at least he went in too, right?).

"Scandal? Me? No!" He grinned--didn't even try not to--and carded a hand through his hair in a very misguided attempt to tame it, which never actually worked. Caxith picked that moment to make a comment about the uselessness of the action, which went more or less ignored. "And my flights are always sexy, thanks."

"Always sexy? Well, you're a lucky little bastard, aren't you?" I'shan asked as he dashed into the back of the kitchens, well away from that damn woman and her terrifyingly effective throwing arm. I'shan released T'rielle's hand at this point, content that he'd earned a bit more of the greenrider's attention, and meandered right into another storage room. "You know, I caught this old greenrider a couple months ago...it was pretty gross," he said, wrinkling his nose as he plunged into what appeared to be a well-hidden wine cellar. What luck!

"And then there's A'liran," I'shan said as he started to rummage, paying no attention to the labels on the bottles...well, at least the ones that designated an owner. "A'liran...That bastard just flew in my face like some kind of wild feline the last time I caught him. It's like he wanted to smash my face in!" Scandalous. Didn't that greenrider realize that it didn't work that way?

His fair appeared, winking into view overhead. Squee bolted right for the wine bottles, settling on top one of them and perching delciatly upon it's slippery round surface, watching I'shan's actions with interest. Spazz joined him, wedging in beside his larger cousin and watching with equal eagerness and somehow even more energy. The more reserved third flitter, squeak, instead opted to cling to T'rielle's shirt sleeve and eye him balefully. You gonna pet me, or not?

I'shan paid no attention to his little bonds or the trouble they were causing. He just kept rooting around until he found a bottle that looked good and grinned. ''Check it out.." he said, showing the label to the greenrider and smirking.

"I certainly think so," T'rielle purred, in a shoddy imitation of his own dragon at her best. He was, honestly, a terrible actor, and couldn't manage to suppress the giggle that followed shortly after. Then, of course, I'shan simply made it worse by bemoaning his own flight experiences, and T'rielle manfully resisted the urge to laugh out loud. What little political correctness he had only stretched so far, however. "That must have been terrible. I don't know how you survived," he said, coming to a leisurely stop in the doorway of the storage room and leaning against the doorframe to watch I'shan poke around.

He whistled lowly, doing his best to give I'shan's back a passably sympathetic look at his recollection of A'liran. "Are you sure he was aiming at your face? Flight-lust, you know. Screws with your perception."

He would have helped with...whatever I'shan was searching for, of course, but I'shan seemed to have it well in hand, and beyond T'rielle's disappointing lack of knowledge of fine wines, they most definitely wouldn't have gotten out of there without at least a few broken bottles. And what a waste that would have been.

"Well I suppose there was that one brownrider a while back," he mused, eyes following I'shan's hands as the bluerider rummaged through the various bottles. He didn't get a chance to elaborate on that comment, as I'shan's trio of fire-lizards chose that moment to appear. He was sufficiently distracted by the two perching precariously on top of the wine that he didn't notice the third until Squeak was settling himself on his sleeve. "What do you want, troublemaker?" It didn't take long for his resolve to crack and crumble, and he shortly found himself stroking the fire-lizard's forehead gently.

He glanced up when I'shan spoke, his expression skeptical. "I'll be honest, that could be the worst wine on the planet and I wouldn't know the difference," he said, beginning to shrug his shoulder before remembering that there was a fire-lizard currently attached to it. Unhitching himself from the wall, he moved forward to get a better look at the label just for shits and giggles, because he probably wouldn't have voiced his opinion on the quality of the wine if he had one. "I'm going to take your word for its quality, though. If you have it."

"Which brownrider?" I'shan asked, cutting his eyes towards T'rielle with interest. Had someone hurt the greenrider? Now, that was very much a part of dragonrider life, but I'shan had never been a particularly aggressive greenbasher. Sometimes he got excited and had to hold the poor dears still, but he'd never quite condoned the way some of the Weyr's more aggressive men just had at them. Flight lust made people do strange and often violent things, but I'shan liked to see his friends going through periods of good luck. If someone had hurt the poor greenrider, I'shan was going to be rather bothered, though probably without the balls to do anything about it. Could you really argue with nature?

T'rielle seemed okay, though. The incident was mentioned casually and seemingly forgotten, but I'shan wasn't going to let it go. The greenrider's casualness encouraged I'shan to treat it was juicy gossip rather than some sort of serious incident, and he behaved accordingly. "Tell me all about it," he insisted, smirking as he snatched the wine bottle back and pulled a corkscrew from his pocket. He opened it quickly and took a drink before passing the bottle back to T'rielle, content to share.

Squeak crawled up on the greenrider's shoulder, nose quivering at the scent of the wine. Squee and Spazz situated themselves on each of I'shan's shoulders, crooning and chittering softly. I'shan took a moment to shush both of them, lifting one hand to give each flit a nice pat before turning his attention back to the greenrider.

"You know, I've caught greens ridden by girls a couple of times. That's always a pretty unwelcome sight," he mused. They always cried. Or he always cried. Usually both. It wasn't a pretty situation! Fortunately, Ilveriath had taken some mercy on him in recent turns. Such incidents were starting to become rarer and rarer, and I'shan was just fine with nthat. Like he needed any more flight brats running around, too!

"Gossip whore," T'rielle deadpanned, lip twitching despite his attempt at a straight face. It was a moment before he frowned, brow furrowing as he thought back in an attempt to recall the particular brownrider's name.

"It was....M'rar? M'rer? Something. Older, definitely older," he said, then grimaced. "Disgustingly enough he reminded me of my father." Which was, honestly, something that could be said for the vast majority of brownriders over forty, considering he frankly didn't remember much about the man aside from his name, dark hair, and the color of his dragon.

In terms of luck, T'rielle's streak was something to be reckoned with. He wasn't stupid, not really. Just optimistic, and perhaps a little too trusting. He was fairly certain that neither he or Caxith had paid much attention to the whole 'how to avoid getting your ass beat during a flight' lesson. T'rielle because he lacked the attention span required to pay attention to something that seemed like it was just so far away, and Caxith because she had been a rebellious little bitch nearly since breaking the shell.

More than anything it was a matter of chance that nothing particularly noteworthy had ever happened to him, because Caxith was not a gentle flight partner. Belligerent to the core, gentleness was something reserved for T'rielle,and him alone. The rest of the time she tended to be aloof and (to an outsider, anyway) very quiet. She tended not to put too much effort into things unless something set her off--an errant scrape of the claw, perhaps, or a lovebite that went a little too far.

"Waking up to that wasn't the most exciting thing in the world, at least," he said, giving Squeak another gentle stroke once the fire-lizard had relocated to his shoulder. Taking the bottle from I'shan, he gave it a moderately dubious sniff before drinking, passing it back afterwards. "I guess there wasn't anything wrong with him, aside from the unfortunate nature of his appearance."

He grinned at the bluerider's reflections, not quite feeling sorry for the man but more than willing to commiserate for I'shan's sake. "See, I'm glad I don't have that problem. Once was quite enough, thank you.”

I'shan's lip twitched. "It's sort of rare on my end, too. I think Ilv means well, but every so often he forgets his manners, so to speak." Everyone knew that instinct was stronger than sentiment when it came to dragonflights, but Ilveriath was usually a gentleman. Some dragons were better about it than others. T'rielle was lucky indeed, since I'shan knew plenty of greenrider who had no fortune at all in that regard. A green dragon may try to choose her mates, but with the males all larger and stronger, many of the poor dears were caught without that sort of discretion.

Lucky bastard. I'shan hoped it held out.

He took the wine bottle and threw back a long drink himself. Spazz craned his neck over to sniff at the lip of the bottle as it lingered near I'shan's lips, but he skittishly pulled back when I'shan eyed him. Squee, being an opportunist, chirped and boldly stuck his head forward to lap at the bottle's lip. The taste didn't agree with him and he started to shake his head vigorously.

I'shan snickered and wiped the mouth of the bottle off. "Your fault, dumbass," he said to Squee before taking a second drink. He offered the bottle back to T'rielle and smirked. "Speaking of girls and kids and all that, my son got a fire lizard," he preened. I'shan hadn't exactly been thrilled to reveal himself as Isharyn's father, but over time he'd acclimated himelf and could even concede that being a dad was fun...as long as it was part-time. Ilveriath was of the opinion that he would be an excellent full-time father, but I'shan wasn't ready to go that far yet....as if the child's mother would ever give him up.

"Have you met Isharyn?"  I'shan asked, lifting a brow. Kids weren't usually the sort of topic he'd bring up with his guy friends, especially cute greenriders that an uncommitted I'shan might have been interested in tossing around a bit, but the topic of female flight partners had no other logical conclusion. After all, that was perhaps the greatest horror of such encounters!

"If not for the lack of female blue- and brownriders I think Caxith would take immense pleasure in doing just the opposite," he said off-handedly, already mentally moving on to the next subject of focus, which just so happened to be the bottle of alcohol that I'shan was passing back to him. He paused a moment when Squeak inched closer to the bottle, still not totally used to the independent movement on his shoulder. He perked up at the bluerider's comment about his son, breaking into a grin that was half-obscured by the bottle that was still halfway to his lips. "Oh? That's exciting!"

T'rielle had nothing against fire lizards, obviously, though he wasn't so sure about Caxith; she wasn't actively hateful towards them, but he suspected that she wasn't overly fond of them (except when they were helping T'rielle bathe her; then she adored them). He was pretty sure that that was unfair to the lizards, but didn't particularly care enough to confront her about it, mostly due to the fact that it really wouldn't be all that effective.

T'rielle had always possessed a certain neutrality towards children. The well-behaved individuals he didn't mind one bit, though for Caxith's sake he tended to be a little more selective about the ones who got a little overexcited. Hell, some of them could be a little overwhelming even to him with his endless reserves of energy. "I don't think I have, actually," T'rielle said, frowning. Thinking too hard was just about the only time he would affect a frown without it being a complete drama-queen moment. "Not officially, anyway. They all tend to look a lot alike running around the place."

He'd pulled a double-take over his own son once or twice (though he would never admit that out loud, especially in the vicinity of the kid's mother), though his defense tended to be along the lines of 'he's two years old, he looks like a little blob. What do you expect?' He wasn't particularly active in the kid's life; every once in a while Kiva would need some freedom that a young child didn't lend itself to, and T'rielle was never going to say no when she asked for a couple hours; he just wasn't the type to be overly paternal. He was the fun dad, which typically ended in Kiva yelling herself hoarse at him for letting the kid do something 'unsafe'--like go within fifty feet of Caxith, who was in all honesty a better babysitter than T'rielle himself was.

"That is true,"  I'shan confessed. "I think I have another one out there myself, running around among the masses. The mother has never really been straight with me over it...won't admit that it's mine but won't tell me who the real father is, always pushy when I ask for details....so fuck it." He'd given up on that one a long time ago. He only half-cared and had acted out a sense of obligation that he developed when dealing with Isharyn. Dads were supposed to care about their kids. May as well try, yes? Well, trying was hard when the mother was too much of a wher to even share basic details. For all he knew, it wasn't his at all! What could he do about it?

Exactly nothing, that's what.

He shrugged, then laughed. "Her loss, right?" he said with an amiable chuckle. "Not that it's so much of a burden...the creche takes care of them for women who aren't particularly interested, and she is a dragonrider." I'shan wasn't convinced that being a dragonrider was a legitimate excuse to avoid one's children, but by shards did people use it! It worked for him, though since getting to know Isharyn more, he was less inclined to need or want excuses. The whole 'Dad' thing was okay so far.

"You know...sometimes I like watching them all and trying to figure out whose they are," he said with a smirk. "D'ren's little girl is starting to look like him, so that one's easy enough. But some not so much! I'm convinced that if I watch them all long enough, I'll find one that looks like  R'nya..."

Now that would be rich. I'shan's former classmate was utterly boring and seemed to have no interest in sex whatsoever, which would make finding a brat even funnier. I'shan kept his eyes peeled every time a kid ran past, hoping he would glimpse enough of a resemblance to keep him in stitches for the rest of his life.

He smirked. "Or S'kef. Rumor has it he abandoned two little girls in the north...Sometimes I can't help but wonder if he has any...replacement kids."

"That must be irritating." He agreed solemnly, unsure whether I'shan's predicament--if it was even worth calling it that--was considered a good or a bad thing in the bluerider's eyes. Being generally lazy and irresponsible when it came to these kinds of things, T'rielle didn't have any issues with Kiva's overprotectiveness until she stared raging on about how Caxith was a bloodthirsty beast with no regard for decorum. She was the one who'd popped the baby out, after all. He'd been the one with the relatively fun job. T'rielle just wished the woman would be slightly nicer about his dragon, because she certainly wasn't going anywhere and only had so much patience before she'd start making comments right back.

And nobody wanted that.

Her sense of entitlement was only good as long as it didn't make the mother of his child unwilling to let the kid anywhere near him. Not, of course, that Caxith was particularly inclined to heed his pleading, but it was worth a try. He would have liked for his own son to know him beyond 'hey, that's your dad over there with the crazy green dragon,' and since that wouldn't be happening for at least another Turn or so, he had every intention of sticking around.

"Oh really?" He asked, chuckling. "I'm not much of one for politics, but I think him--either of them, actually--openly claiming a kid would cause quite a stir." Thinking about it, though, he could concede the point that irate mothers could be quite terrifying. They'd sent him scrambling behind Caxith for protection more than once, and they hadn't even been trying to get him to acknowledge another child. "I've tried it a couple of times myself. Never lasted very long, but it was entertaining, to say the least." He grinned for a moment before it faded into a brief frown. "I was actually quite terrible at it. They all looked like A'liran, to me." 

Which wasn't entirely true, but after ten minutes he'd decided that the whole thing was quite boring, actually, as nobody was running and screaming and being otherwise entertaining. Easier to say they all looked like a single person than to explain that. For T'rielle, laziness tended to win out over pride. It was Caxith who tended to defend her rider's pride when she was feeling particularly touchy or protective (which were essentially the same thing, as far as an exasperated T'rielle was concerned).

"I always got a kick out of coming up with names for potential brats when I was a kid. There were some spectacular combinations that we came up with." Spectacular or hilarious, he supposed, depending on who you talked to. There was always the chance of anger, too, but then, since when had that been a concern for T'rielle? It was a game, after all, and he never meant any harm. Wasn't his fault if no one else had a sense of humor.

"Oh, man," I'shan said with a wide, impish grin. "A'liran?! That's rich...you know he doesn't claim any children right now," he said. "I bet he has a couple, though. I do know that a few turns ago, he had one that died when it was still little." In polite company, I'shan might have hushed that particular piece of information, or at the very least not shouted it, but who was there to overhear? Worse case scenario one of A'liran's annoying bronze fire lizards would overhear and tell him, and I'shan could run faster so who cared. A'liran was cruel and beastly and I'shan did not like him, so he would say whatever he pleased about the scoundrel.

"I bet he would claim em if he did, though," I'shan said. "He's all into women's rights and things like that...I bet he's too much of a bleeding heart to go without claiming a kid. Though it's pretty funny...for someone who goes on about girls this and girls that, A'liran sure isn't keen on actually touching them," he said with a snicker.

I'shan had never been big on sleeping with women, either. He'd kept more female friends than male friends before the plague and he'd always respected his mother, but A'liran's approach to the issue of women still seemed laughable to I'shan. They were like greenriders, really. He didn't understand why greenriders or women (or woman greenriders) complained so much! They lived better lives than they would anywhere else on Pern, did they not?

Whenever some plucky woman in the weyr opened her mouth to complain about injustice, all I'shan could think about was his poor disgraced mother, working her fingers to the bone to raise a child with no father. The fact that a woman living an infinity more comfortable life in the Weyr would dare complain that she didn't have even more, it actually came close to making the normally cheerful bluerider angry. His mother suffered horribly and dedicated her entire life to raising him, something he'd never forgotten. She had to give up her career, her social life...everything. Women in the weyr could hand their children off and continue on their merry way, they could choose their own partners...What the shards were they complaining about?

Especially the ones with dragons. Ooh, wait..what was any greenrider complaining about? What a bunch of whiners! I'shan didn't necessarily feel contempt towards them or wish ill towards them, but he just didn't get it. Why not just enjoy? Life was better than so many people tried to make it out to be...even his fellow blueriders were guilty of it much of the time. So what if they weren't at the top? They still had so much. Why try to be unhappy?

A broad, somewhat mean-spirited grin crossed his face. "T'rielle, does it drive you nuts knowing that a dick like that is out there making your color look bad?"

"I remember that." T'rielle said, pausing long enough to have a moment of quiet, however unintentional it may have been. A high mortality rate wasn't something unfamiliar, exactly, but it still deserved a moment--and even if he wasn't the type to insist that others join in on said moment, it never kept him from doing it anyway. It was relatively short, anyway, being slighlty distracted by I'shan's continued commentary on A'liran and his equal rights fixation. That probably wasn't the most accurate description, but being that T'rielle never quite managed to draw his attention out long enough to get through one of the other greenrider's rants, that was about as good as he could get.

T'rielle was decidedly neutral on the outspoken greenrider, mostly because he liked him a fair bit when he wasn't raging on about something or other. He'd always do his level best to lend an ear, but he certainly didn't like being the center of attention when it came to things like this. Petty pranks and troublemaking, sure, he was all for it, but when it came to Weyr politics he preferred to keep his nose as clean as he possibly could. "I don't blame him. For the not-touching-women part, at least."

He laughed--he couldn't help it--at the look on I'shan's face and the words that followed, though he gave a one-shouldered shrug shortly after. "Oh, I definitely think there could be worse," he said, cocking his head to one side in consideration, "though he could use some different tactics to get his point across, I'll admit. If he has a point." He grinned and shrugged again. "So I guess that would be a yes. I like my rebellions subtle and tactful." Complete sarcasm, of course, because the greenrider didn't have much of a rebellious streak where it mattered and wouldn't have been any good at it even if he did. He rarely got away with much of anything--people knew him too well, apparently, and his ideas tended to be more than a little transparent.

The way things were now--and not saying that he was unhappy with his lot, quite to the contrary--he was just glad the he'd had the pleasure of being born with external genitalia. He couldn't guess what he'd have done if he'd been born a girl--peril the thought--but Caxith was testament enough to what the female personality was capable of. He also wouldn't dare to guess what life was like for the feminine part of the population, but from what he could tell...well. Things could always be worse. "I dunno, though. There are worse examples. Hell, some people might consider me one of them. I'm not always a perfect angel."

I'shan didn't quite believe what he was hearing. He raised one brow and smiled at T'rielle, his expression settling somewhere between disbelief and amusement. "You? Come on now...you're a good greenrider," he said, both serious and teasing all in the same breath. I'shan had never been one to really rub hierarchy in people's faces knowingly, but he slight air of bluerider condescension was there, innocent and well-meaning, bolstered by his total obliviousness. T'rielle was a good greenrider! He didn't bitch and whine about his place in life, he didn't fight back during a nice flight, and he was okay being led around by the wrist from time to time. On top of all that, he was great fun to be around. See? Perfect greenrider.

Being a perfect greenrider and being a perfect angel weren't the same thing, though. I'shan snorted and waved one hand at T'rielle. "Who cares? You don't fuck up where it really matters," he said. "I dont remember the last time I saw you pitching a fit at the Weyrleader in public or something stupid like that. I think you're mistaking being badly behaved with being interesting and not friggin' boring," he said.

I'shan was a lot of talk, but in reality he was pretty scared of S'kef and his creepy followers, especially that T'rel. What an ass. I'shan wasn't likely to be causing much public trouble from now on, either. I'shan was less an active troublemaker and more had a passing disregard for rule-following. Maybe staying off the radar would be nice for the time being.

He realized at once that he was frowning. "Screw it," he declared aloud, realizing he'd let his fears catch up to him. He took another long drink. "So, anything else new going on? Anything at all? Tell me everything." Shards, tell me anything.

"Good is relative," T'rielle chuckled. "And what's the difference between a good greenrider and a good goldrider? Because there are definitely people who don't know the difference." At least, he was fairly certain there were. It was a bit like unicorns; he heard the stories, but he'd never met one in person. Well, he thought he was funny. Mention of the potential pitching of fits in conjunction with the Weyrleader made him shudder; nervous was an understatement when it came to being in the vicinity of the new leadership, and that was when he was virtually invisible to the man; he'd do something really stupid, like cower and beg for forgiveness (dramatic, remember?) if he ever happened to do something that actually caught the man's attention. Thank Faranth that between him and his dragon they were actually quite good at staying out of the politically dangerous kind of trouble. Normal danger, however, was completely within the limits of attainability.

"Okay, sure, but that's only because they all scare the shit out of me." He waved him off, as if that explained everything. It certainly did to the greenrider. He wasn't stupid, nor suicidal, and getting his name on some list in some dark room alongside A'liran's for stirring up trouble was not in his life's plan. He enjoyed the freedom of being relatively unknown, and would most certainly fester and die if he was ever put on house arrest. A little dramatic, perhaps, but a ridiculously vivid imagination was something he had never quite grown out of. It made for great storytelling, anyway, which he enjoyed when feeling particularly vindictive towards groups of Weyrbrats who took up just a little too much of Caxith's attention for just a little too long.

"Well..." He started, truly racking his brains because damn was politics boring and he did not want to go there. Ever. Even thinking about it put him on edge, and therefore he was more than happy to find a suitable topic change. "We took a bit of an excursion into the forest a few weeks ago. Caxith chased a couple giant felines--I swear they were the same size as she was--while I screamed like a girl, and just caused some general disruption of nature. Ended up spending the night because the bitch decided she didn't want to fly home just then." He finally said, realizing just how much he hadn't done recently when put on the spot. "It was a surprising amount of fun, actually."

Now there was some sentiment that I'shan could agree with. He nodded slowly and let out a nervous laugh in acknowledgement of it. Politics were indeed scary these days, and he counted those who stayed well away as among the wisest people in the Weyr. It was sticky business, and the deeper you dove the stickier it got. N'gelt taught him that much. "You're right about that," he muttered aloud, sneering softly at the thought of it before following T'rielle's example and letting the topic go. Leave that mess to the troublemakers like B'run and Ravana!

He shifted gears quickly, his dour expression fading quickly as T'rielle told his little story about Caxith's feline-hunting antics. It was yet more proof of what handfuls green dragons could be! I'shan was glad he got saddled with a nice, calm blue like  Ilveriath...not that he hadn't seen blues that were anxious and catty! Regardless of color, though, he couldn't imagine a dragon simply refusing to take it's rider home. Poor T'rielle! 

"That sucks. I'm pretty sure I would have thrown a fit over that," he replied. Luckily, Ilveriath wouldn't stand for fits and would have quickly tried to fix the problem. I'shan knew of dragons who could and would behave in awfully contrary ways, but that was another blow he'd managed to dodge. No need to rub it in T'rielle's face, of course, but his perplexed expression betrayed how hard it was for him to grasp.

"Sounds like an adventure, though. I would have bitched and complained all night," he acknowledged with some amusement. "I haven't been out in the jungle for ages now...Not since I went to steal fire lizard eggs for Isharyn, and that was just down to the lake," he said, jerking his thumb in a direction that he was pretty sure pointed to the lake. "..Little queen came after me in the process, though. Little bitch was going for my face."

He had learned very early on that Caxith was not a creature to be ordered around, and took it to heart; in a way, he could sympathize. Where they differed, though, was that T'rielle could swallow his pride and do as he was told when the situation called for it, and keep his mouth shut while he was at it. Caxith would, for the most part, do the same, but she didn't keep quiet about her discontent as long as she was around those she trusted not to go running to teacher over it. That in itself was a rather short list, if only because the green was of the opinion that there were very few people who could be considered one hundred percent trustworthy, and it wasn't easy to prove her wrong. T'rielle was even inclined to agree with her on occasion.

He didn't miss I'shan's perplexed expression, but wasn't quite sure how to explain that particular dynamic without going on for hours. The basics were understandable, if somewhat out of context, weren't they? "Oh, I think she would have given in if I'd been really upset, but it's generally better to just let her have her way, no matter how unpleasant it turns out to be. I swear by the Egg, I was itching for days." If only because he'd flat-out refused to go to the Healer Hall to get anything for said itch. Pride rearing its ugly head for once, Caxith had called his stubbornness. He just called it her fault and left it at that. He was still alive and fully functional, so no harm done, right?

He knew his dragon was a bit of a conundrum, and while there were certainly times where he got exasperated, she generally did know just what he needed, and would do her best to accomplish that goal, even if her convoluted idea of 'fun' (which, according to her, he didn't get enough of, despite his escapades that she usually didn't participate in) was virtually an exploratory mission. "There was definitely a fair share of bitching and complaining. It started raining a couple hours before we headed back. There was this big bush, though, with these leaves that had to be a couple feet wide. It was better than sitting out in the rain, at least. I should've brought one home." He shrugged. "It really is lovely, though. You never really learn to appreciate the color green--besides a dragon's hide--until you see the shades in the jungle." He smirked, and then just because he could, chuckled lightly. "Everyone's after your face, aren't they?"

Then again, he'd never had much to do with firelizards outside social situations. On the rare occasions that they opted to flock around Caxith while she was swimming they seemed like perfectly pleasant little creatures, but he'd heard plenty of stories of irritation and woe that made him slightly leery of the things. As long as they were well-behaved, he didn't mind them, and he hadn't any encounters with truly nasty individuals, so he tried not to judge them too harsly.

I'shan grinned. "Of course they are. My face is awesome," he purred. He took another long drink, distantly aware of Ilveriath's warnings in the back of his head. Something about too much and stupid and something like that. I'shan wasn't too worried, though. Ilveriath always stopped him before he could do anything really stupid, so yeah, he would be fine probably.

Off in the distance, Ilveriath thought about how no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't actually force I'shan to be a mature adult and listen to his warnings. Even now the human was taking another drink and rattling on about how a swarm of fire lizards had attacked his face and pulled his hair as he ran and flailed about. Ilveriath didn't remember it, but his guts told him I'shan was exaggerating for the sake of theatrics, which was fine...but apparently also too distracting to listen to good logic. I'shan wasn't half as irresponsible as he'd been only a few turns ago, but it seemed he would always have his moments.

"...And then they all hatched a few days later," I'shan concluded. Squeak sat perched on one hand while the wine bottle remained grasped in the other. I'shan smiled, then threw back another long drink of wine. "I think they're worth it...they're good little friends," he said, lifting Squeak closer to his face and butting noses with the tiny beast. Squeak purred for a moment before arrogantly fluttering away.  I'shan watched with more amusement than he probably should have before taking an awkward step back towards the wine rack.

"Maybe there is some from a better year.." he muttered. He set the other bottle on the floor and started to root around. "So! Anything else new going on? Sounds like Caxith is a real bold lady...I bet she gets you into messed all the-...Ah! Here we go..."

In a moment of unparalleled wisdom, he spun around and tossed the new bottle to T'rielle. It took a second or two before the contortions of his face revealed that he'd realized what he'd done.

"Well, I'm not going to argue with that." While T'rielle was never one to be overly self-conscious about his preferences (in friends or sexual partners), he generally did have the decorum to keep them to himself. A loose tongue was only good in certain situations (one of which this was not). He hadn't made a fool of himself yet, and likely wouldn't unless vast quantities of alcohol were involved--which was, honestly, entirely possible considering their current location. The greenrider listened to I'shan's tale of dastardly fire-lizards with a cocked head and a curve to his lip.

"They're certainly something else," he said, watching the bluerider's little moment with the fire-lizard. It was...well, cute. There was no other way to describe it. I'shan might be as dramatic as anyone, but there was definitely genuine affection for the miniature dragons that couldn't possibly be faked. T'rielle had never had a particular interest in having a fire-lizard, and certainly didn't have any intention of going hunting for a nest (that would take more of an attention span than he had, if we're being completely honest), but he did enjoy watching those that belonged to others. It was like...having the fun without the responsibility. Or something. Not that responsibility was ever at the top of his list (usually somewhere around the middle, actually), but living, breathing creatures tended to put a wrench in that (see: Caxith).

Chuclking at I'shan's estimation of Caxith's troublemaking, T'rielle shrugged. "It evens out, I guess. She--oof, easy!" He cut himself off with a yelp as he ducked automatically while simultaneously reaching for the bottle, even though it was obvious that his chances of actually catching it were negligible at best. If he'd been stone-cold sober, maybe he'd have been able to manage it, but his reaction was slow enough that by the time he thought to open his eyes and actually try to adjust to the trajectory of the bottle it was already in his hands (bounced off of them, more like), then slipping through his fingers--which sounded really dramatic, in hindsight--and to the floor, where it miraculously didn't shatter on impace. After a moment of wide-eyed silence spent staring down at the bottle he gave a short laugh, then looked up at I'shan. "Well, now we have to drink it."

It was funny, how the world became slow-motion on the brink of disasters. I'shan's eyes flew open as he watched the bottle bounce out of T'rielle's hand and fall to the floor, cringing afterwards as the sound of glass hitting stone reached his ears. He started to shout, but he caught himself when he realized that somehow, the bottle hadn't shattered. It was laying there in the floor, awkwardly rolling to one side in a lopsided arc, it's surface scratched but otherwise intact.

"Wow. We really do have to drink it," he reasoned, leaning down and scooping it up by the neck. Hhe laughed just a little, a mild chuckle to try and take the edge off the awkward stillness in the air, though the drunk part of his brain found the whole thing pretty funny. At this rate, that would be all of his brain that was left within another half-hour or so. What time was it again? Still sometime during the day, right? Was this appropriate? Who cared?

He quickly opened the bottle and took a drink. It was a little bit dryer and less smooth than the previous one, but that was arguably better, depending on who you talked to, right? He smacked a little bit, not sure if he liked the flavor or not, but he definitely liked the kick. "This one's stronger," he reported, handing it off the T'rielle and grinning wickedly.

"It's so damn boring around here lately," he blurted afterwards. He could feel the bubbling warmth of the wine in his stomach. "It's ridiculous. I'm so friggin sick of it here...." Maybe this was the wine talking.

The quickly diminishing logical part of T'rielle's brain kept trying to tell him that 'appropriate' wasn't a term that should be applied to the current situation. The troublemaking part of him wanted to know who was there to judge them (the answer being no one, if anyone was wondering), and why he should care. Once I'shan had retrieved the bottle and taken a pull T'rielle straightened up, raking his hair back out of his face and releasing a relieved sigh. In the greenrider's opinion, alcohol was alcohol and there wasn't much of a difference between breaking a bottle of vinegar and breaking a bottle of 100-Turn-old wine. He wasn't so foolish as to waste any, bad or good, so the fact that this miraculously still-intact bottle contained above average wine only made the whole thing that much better.

"Oh, good," he said, taking the bottle from I'shan with a grin and a nod, and raising it to his lips as the bluerider spoke again. He took a drink before responding, wiping his mouth with the back of his free hand. "I'm sure there are ways to make it not boring," he said slowly, passing the wine back. "Could always skip wing practice and go on an adventure." He grinned. It was a good idea in theory, of course, but in practice? Not so much. The fact that he was more than a little inebriated made it hard for him to judge whether he actually sounded like he was joking or whether I'shan might take his suggestion literally (which, honestly, as long as he was invited along he probably wouldn't have minded). It had been intended as a joke however, so he felt compelled to continue. "Besides, something's bound to happen soon, right? I mean, things can't be boring forever, can they?"