All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are copyright © Anne McCaffrey 1967,2000, all rights reserved, and used by permission of the author. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey, used here with permission. Use or reproduction without a license is strictly prohibited. For more information, visit the Worlds of Anne McCaffrey.
30-06-01: Cabin Fever
As Weyrlinghood drags on, M'kan and Lydiere share in the frustration of being -- apparently -- weyrlings forever.
"Argh!" It's actually a bit more vocal than that: Lydiere's voice comes across the barracks, indulging in a string over colourful curses which has Llysereth all but quivering all over, wings raising to cover part of her form. Storming away from her cot, Lyddie yanks her hair into a runner tail, making tracks for the door.
The last sound M'kan wanted to really hear was an 'argh' from Lydiere. However, the young man lifts his brow and then casts the gold 'ling a long strange look. "Ask Llysereth what happened, Xaeloth?" the brown croons throatily to the quivering queenlet, comforting her with his deep rumbling tones.
The last sound Lydiere probably wanted to say herself was 'argh', or any variant of that, but it's nonetheless said, and whilst Llysereth takes some comfort in Xaeloth, Lydiere takes none, if she even notices. << She is upset, >> Llysereth manages--and it's clear the implication: she's upst *again*.
At the mention of upset, M'kan quirks his brow, murmuring something about--what could it be? Xaeloth seems to ask the same question to the golden queen, <
"What?" Lydiere swings about, facing M'kan -- and somewhat shadowed in his height -- with her head raised. No tears, but her expression is ultimately frustrated. Llysereth hesitates, her mindvoice quavering as much as her body is: << She just is. She won't talk to me. >>
"Uh, hey, what's wrong, Lyd?" Mik asks, biting his lip but then clearing his throat, he then adds, "You sound kinda like you're frustrated, what is it 'bout?" He doesn't ask 'this time' and barely stopped himself in doing so. Xaeloth stretches closer and croons throatily, soothing Llysereth, padding closer to the beauty, wing spread as it gently caresses the lady's back, comfortingly.
Llysereth is soothed, her wings lowering as she lets her head rest upon her forelimbs, whirling eyes watching Lydiere carefully, although she allows a soft, uncertain croon towards Xaeloth. Lydiere opens her mouth, then shuts it again. Finally, she allows a half smile. "I'm frustrated, sure enough. Isn't it time enough we were out of these damn barracks?"
As the golden queen is finally soothed, Xaeloth stays besides her, vigilantly and then settles his whirling gaze upon both his rider and then Lydiere. Blinking, M'kan then nods once, admitting, "Yea, but .. they're slow, and don't think we're able to, or maybe they're just being delayed.. who knows? But I mean...if you want to point that out to them, you should.. not be frustrated and.. hold it all inside."
What more does a girl need--Llysereth, anyway. Lydiere, meanwhile, rubs her eyes with her hands, nodding. "I know, I know. But--argh. It's just infuriating. I'm more than ready to be out of here, and be somewhat able to get some privacy."
M'kan's clearly aware of the frustration of needing privacy and such. He then murmurs, "I understand the need you express.. cause I feel the same way." However, he has yet to express the thoughts to the Weyrleadership. He will, once he finds them. Exhaling, he then adds, "Patience, even as it wears thin, should be a thing you ought to remember."
"Faranth, you sound wise sometimes," comments Lydiere, although without amusement. Her hands sink back down to her sides, and she manages another smile of sorts. "You do? I'm glad I'm not alone, then. I'm just--not sure I can take this for much longer."
Wise? A snort from M'kan and then he mumbles. "Just sage advice, I guess.." That would make him somewhat wise. Bah, not a chance. "Yea, I can hardly think when I notice one of those other green 'lings walking around deliberately with barely a stitch of fabric covering their .. feminine aspects." He coughs, cheeks flushing deeply wit color.
That worked: Lydiere bursts into a fit of giggles, her depression and annoyance at least somewhat mollified, although Llysereth continues to watch on with slight concern. "Attracted, or disgusted, eh? I suppose their lifemates'll be rising soon enough."
"I don't want to /know/... I'm disgusted, is more like it." M'kan declares, still showing that there is the youthful boyishness in him--the grimace obviously testimony of his comments. Taking a deep breath, he allows himself to poked at, for the expense of making Lydiere laugh. That's his goal and he acheived it, ayup. "I find being clothed in public is rather attractive."
Lydiere's initial outburst fades somewhat, and her expression turns--well, not upset, but not delighted, either. A middling point of unsmiling, unfrowning ness. "Ah-hah," is her comment, followed by a nod of her head; "It is pretty inconsiderate, I admit. Fine on the beach, but not anywhere else, not even here." She does restrain a laugh at M'kan's following comment: "Attractive, eh? I'm sure."
The aftermath proves to be trying for M'kan but then he nods absently, "Rather.." He admits before blinking a few times at the restraint in the laugh. Having caught that, he preferably keeps quiet and then remarks softly, "Yea, even clothing can make you.. attractive.. if in the right tastes..."
Lydiere has another trying restraint--and this time she doesn't get so far, and laughs outright, although it's a quiet laugh. "Oh really? A fascinating idea. Clothing, and attraction, together." If she's making any sense, and that's quite possibly unlikely, it'll be a new thing.
"Of course it's not, it's just logical thinking. If you bring the cloth close enough to you, and at a certain angle, you can bring out the stunning curve of your toned form." M'kan then thinks a moment, just wondering what he just said and then blinks. Well, that's true, or so he knows--from experience. Cursed sister (foster) of his. Exhaling again, he shoots Lydiere, not a scowl, but quite a weak grin.
Lydiere, again, laughs. "You're funny, sometimes, M'kan." She peers across at him, head shaking after a pause.
"I try." M'kan admits, solemnly and then smiles ever so sweetly to Lydiere and then he looks over to the dragons, blinking. "Ohboy..." He marvels, noting how his brow is so.. close to the gold.
Lydiere allows a smile; she's amused, if still uptight. Her attention turns at M'kan's statement, Llysereth and Xaeloth given a lengthy glance. "That's cute." Llysereth raises the eyelids on one of her eyes, regarding both her rider, and Xaeloth's, candidly.
Xaeloth, for the most, is too comfortably besides the beautiful gold which he has admired since he broke his shell. Rumbling throatily to the queen lady who is much larger than him, he then stretches out. M'kan seems to ponder but lifts his shoulders up, "Yea, cute.." However, he smiles a little, nodding, "Any cuter.. and..."
Llysereth warbles quietly, her dainty soprano rippling merrily--she, too, stretches out, although it's purely friendly, her pale hide glistening as the muscles tense and relax. "Any cuter and, what?" queries Lyddie, the edges of her lips twitching.
"I might lose my lunch or something." M'kan admits and then groaning, he eyes the brown, "I know she's pretty, yes, she has a lovely voice, I know..." Yeah, he knows all right. The young man struggles not to scowl and grins weakly to Lydiere even as Xaeloth stretches closer to Llysereth.
Lydiere is not going very well with this being frustrated--she's laughing, again, and admitting, "You've got a point. Of course, Llysereth on her own is enough to provide a sweetener overdose for anyone." Her lips twitch more obviously than ever, as she adds, "Eh, it's not harming anyone. He's allowed to be enamoured; she rather likes him, too."
Enamoured?! That was the /last/ thing he wanted to hear. Ack. However, M'kan nods almost sagely and then sighs under his breath, "Oh well... no, you have a point there..." He would think otherwise, but M'kan dares not to. A glance to the draconic pair and there is a thought, "Add more sweetner and you get too much."
It could be enamoured in a good way? Not that Lyddie's counting--she's not all that precise with words. "Point. It could be worse, though; they could be flirting, or something--not that Llysereth'd *ever* do that."
"Uh.. I don't want to think 'bout that." M'kan softly admits, thinking of flirting and shudders. The last time he had to deal with that was..eck... a few Turns back.
"I'll shut up," agrees Lyddie, "It doesn't bother me, but...still."
M'kan's brow lifts, "But...?" His curiosity is terrible thing but he just had to ask, it's .. how is tends to learn things.
Lydiere shrugs, "But...I don't know." So incredibly wordy, this day.
He turns and then peeks to Lydiere, but realizing he's looking down, M'kan scrunches down to more of a better height for the woman. He seems selfconcious and then nods, "Okay, well... suppose flirting isn't too bad.. much."
Lydiere is evidently amused by M'kan's scrunching, although she manages to constrain it to a point. "Flirting isn't *that* bad. It's good for a laugh, or for a bit of fun, but it can be...well, slightly strange, and hard to get used to."
"Tell me about it, I'm not used to be flirted with.." As if he is glad there isn't too much. M'kan then pauses, "But watching it.. seems all right, I am glad not to be the one everyone finds utterly attractive." Yup, he sure is. Mik's modest and heavily so. However, every now and then he'd get some female drooling over him.
Lydiere chuckles slowly, nodding, "I can imagine. I'm not either, for that matter--although..." she trails off, head shaking. "I bet. I'd hate to be drooled over constantly."
"Ther are.. some that don't mind being drooled over.." M'kan clears his throat, murmuring, "Mothers especially, their children constantly do that, you know?" Jokingly commenting, he grins.
Lydiere phhts, laughing, "I can safely say I'm not one of *those* mothers," she offers, grinning. "I'm not much for drool of any kind--and there are some who are fans of any kind."