Did You Just... ~ Tag: Saibra/Ember

Nothing like the Isil Tunnelhold the wherhandlers used to live in, these tunnels are just big enough for dark living spaces for the handlers and their whers, a small hatching sands, and a small lounge for the whers and any unbonded whers during the day. Wherlings move straight into the dens after bonding.
Post Reply
User avatar
Parker
Site Admin
Posts: 2394
Joined: Sat Mar 14, 2015 10:46 pm
Title: High Ebilness
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 32

Mon Oct 31, 2016 8:32 pm

(Trigger warning for giving minors alcohol...)

The day had not been a pleasant one so far. Ferghas had been late to lessons, which he hated being late for anything. On top of that, lessons had been more boring than usual. After that he had been stuck with, what he considered, the worst chore he could be given. Birth watch in the stables. The only sort of herdbeast Ferghas cared for was the sort that was cooked medium rare and seasoned to perfection. Therefore, having to sit and watch the dumb beasts just in case one decided to go into labor. He'd hoped for a quiet night of it at least, but of course that also couldn't happen. One of the beasts decided to go into labor, so he had to go get the beastcrafter. The man was not the happiest to be woken up in the middle of the night and took his irritation out on Ferghas. Then, during the delivery of the calf he had to be roped in to help which ended with him getting one of his favorite shirts ruined. After a candlemark the whole ordeal was done and he was finally free to go get something to eat for what was night handlers lunch time.

Walking across the yard, Ferghas pulled out a flask that he generally kept hidden from sight and took a long pull from it. Alcohol was not allowed to candidates, but he dared anyone to try and keep him from a good drink of scotch after the horrible day he'd been experiencing. The liquid burned perfectly going down and he gave a satisfied smack of his lips before he twisted the lid back on. The night was rather dark thanks to the clouds that blocked the moons and stars, but Ferghas knew where he was going. That didn't, however, stop him from getting startled with a high pitched voice yelled at him to stop from out of nowhere. The wher candidate swung around ready to defend himself when he noticed the source of the voice. "Bullocks...what are you doing sneaking around scaring people, you little brat. I could have taken a swing at you." He stated in a voice that was laced with irritation.

"State yer business, mister. I'm guard 'round this yard 'n ain' ever seen yer face before. How I know ya ain' a bandit?" A young boy, couldn't be more than ten turns old, demanded as he held a large walking stick defensively up against Ferghas.

Ferghas groaned loudly. "Of all the..." He mumbled. This was not at all what he needed or wanted after all the previous other irritations. "Scram you little scamp. I don't have the patience to deal with insolent whelps." Ferghas said dismissively and began to walk towards the dining hall again.

The boy ran to move in front of him. "Nah uh, mister. Ya ain' goin' anywhere till I know what ya business is." The stick was held at a more threatening position.

Ferghas's eyebrows narrowed dangerously with more annoyance. "You listen to me, you little mongrel, I don't have to answer to you. Now beat it. I ain't going to ask again twice."

The young boy seemed to shrink back for a moment at the intimidation in the older man's voice. "I ain' no mongrel and I ain' goin' ta beat it. Ya a bad man, only bad men sneak 'round the weyr yard at night. My dad's a wher handler. He told me so 'n iff'n ya don' tell me wha' ya doin' I'm goin' ta go get him 'n his big wher 'n then ya goin' ta be sorry."

Had Ferghas not been in such a bad mood he would have found the little brat amusing, but unfortunately he was not in a good mood. He took a few menacing steps forward, until the stick was pressed against him. "What a daft little snot-nosed brat you are." He pointed to his knots which were still rather visible despite the lack of light. "Wher candidates are also up at night...or did your daddy not tell you that, hm?" Ferghas pulled his flask out and took another swig to try and calm his irritation.

The look on the boys face was almost worth the delay in food. "Oh..." He said in a deflated voice. Here he'd wanted to look brave and strong by capturing a bandit. "Well, what's that you got there then? How I know it ain' poison or something." He asked when he saw Ferghas take a drink.

"This? This is not poison" Ferghas asked curiously before a devious idea came to mind. "This is something adults drink. Makes us stronger, faster, what have you...I doubt you could handle it." He said in an offhanded sort of way. "Now scram. I have food to get to." Ferghas began to walk away then.

"Oi! Wait a moment. I could handle it." The boy yelled after him and moved to catch up.

An evil smirk spread on Ferghas's lips before he stopped and turned to face the lad. "Oh? Think so do you, whelp? I don't know....the taste alone would probably get to you. I mean... look at you...you're barely a sprout of a boy...and this...well...this is a man's drink." Ferghas was purposely egging him on.

"I'm not a sprout! I can take it! I'll prove it to you." The lad said with passion and held his hand out.

Ferghas made a show of thinking about it for a long moment, complete with hems and haws as he gave the lad a scrutinizing look. "Alright, fine. Prove it." He said and then undid the lid of his flask before he handed it over to the lad. "Remember, it'll taste awful and it'll burn. That's how you know it's the good, potent stuff. The stuff that'll make you really fast and strong. Trick is though...you got to be sure to take three good sized gulps of it."

The lad nodded his head as he took the flask. With a brave face the boy tipped the flask back and took a swig. Much to Ferghas's surprise the kid got the gulp down though he almost hacked up a lung after he swallowed it. The second drink was taken quickly...again with the same result. The third took him a moment to gain the courage to drink. Neither Ferghas or the lad noticed that someone was nearby and more than likely had seen what had just happened.
Image Image Image Image Image
F'lin & Mnenomth | C'sian & Gastoneth | Sid'nis & Iolith | Ao'mek & Tlamehath | Lorcan & Hydranth
Image Image Image Image
So'cles & Ylpeysth | Locke & Wraith | Kisle'vis & Cetovas | Journeyman Zaynallen
Image Image Image Image Image
Darrow & Argow | Naji & Weisdan | Candidate Carver | Ferghas & Fersk | Corbin & Corsk

.::..::..::..::..::..
PC Character Tracker | Marks Tracker | NPC Stash
User avatar
Ember
Moderator
Posts: 1289
Joined: Tue Feb 23, 2016 5:50 am
Title: Plot Enabler
Pronouns: She/Her or They/Them
Age: 35

Fri Nov 04, 2016 5:31 am

Saibra was minding her own business, like usual, and would have continued to do so without question, had she not heard the most curious of conversations. If it could even be called that. Now she wasn't the sort to snoop around, because she knew full well how that could lead to trouble, but the closer the voices came to where she was doing her chores, the more difficult it was to ignore what was obviously taking place. She turned to look, just in time to see the lad take the first sip from the flask and she was... while she could understand wanting to shut the lad up, she wasn't sure how she felt about what she was seeing.

She needed to stay back though, no matter how much she wanted to march forward, swat the flask out of the kid's hands, and give the man a piece of her mind. That was the old her, the one that had been comfortable as the Lady Heir of High Reaches Hold. Now she was nothing more than a drudge, at the lowest rung of the rank ladder. What would happen to her if she let herself get in the way of a candidate, who was only slightly above her rank wise but still had that edge?

Still, if she let this continue, when she had the chance to stop it, there was a chance that something could happen to the stupid little shit, and as much as it pained her to admit, she wouldn't be able to live with herself, or the guilt, if that happened. Instead of staying where she was and ignoring it, she set her broom aside and did what she told herself she wouldn't do - she became involved, In a way she did not completely understand after all was said and done.

She marched over to the kid, yanked the flask from his hands, tasted it for herself, and made a face before looking up - Faranth, she hated being small sometimes - at Ferghas. "No wonder he coughed up a lung. This isn't even the good shit." She slapped the flask against his chest and held it there until he took hold of it. "Cheap asshole." She was going to hate herself for it later on, she knew she was, but it was said, and it was done, and Faranth help her if she got into any trouble for this.
Dirce L'van D'kellen D'ante V'ric Na'vi K'rios J'on
Image Image Image Image Image Image Image Image

Fali'vas Koda'vis Melangell Cataren Sianca Feraliss Yaranavexa Rathiran
Image Image Image Image Image Image Image Image

Compendium | NPC Archive | Wanted Connections | Marks Tracker | Emporium


[ Threads Wanted ]

“It's better to write something, anything, than to starve the monster. The monster must feed. And it will feed on your soul if not your words. Its appetite is insatiable. Write to save yourself from the monster.”
― Don Roff ―
User avatar
Parker
Site Admin
Posts: 2394
Joined: Sat Mar 14, 2015 10:46 pm
Title: High Ebilness
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 32

Fri Nov 11, 2016 9:41 pm

"Atta boy. Took that like a man, ya did. Good job. How do you feel?" Ferghas said to the young lad who somehow managed to beam a proud smile at him despite the faces he was making. There was once a time in the dark man's life that he wanted children, adored them even. His dream had been a noble one then. Marry a woman who loved him for who he was, make sure to support her and their life, settle down in a nice place, have a few rugrats of his own, and be the father he never had. The first two parts of his dream he had managed to achieve, but then that dream was taken away from him. From that moment on he had become a different man.

"That was som'thin' awful, mister. O' course I took it like a man. I tol' ya so, didn' I?" The young boy declared as he tried to not get sick after the awful tasting liquid. "I don' feel any diff'rent. I though' ya said this would make me faster 'n stronger?" The boy said in an accusatory tone of voice.

"Patience is a virtue, boy. Takes it a few moments before you start feeling the effects. Believe me though, you will know when you start to feel them." Ferghas explained. He knew that this was low, even for him, but he had a feeling it was going to be rather amusing. Granted, he wasn't going to let the boy do anything too dangerous. After all if he got hurt or worse got himself killed, then that would be on him and he didn't need that sort of aggravation.

"No wonder he coughed up a lung. This isn't even the good shit. Cheap asshole."

The short-stack of a woman appeared out of no where and stole his flask and took a large gulp of it. Ferghas had a penchant for one of two reactions to such bold behavior. He either got really, really pissed off or he got really, really turned on. In this instance he felt the latter. His dark eyes lit up with amusement as a smile cracked his face. "Well well, what 'ave we here?" He asked in an obviously flirtatious tone of voice.

"You mean he gave me bad stuff? Why he do tha'?" The kid said with agitation, his words beginning to slur already.

"Don't worry, lad, cheap or expensive it all works the same. Now how about you run along home." Ferghas said, pretty much trying to shoo the kid away as he was far more interested in the fiery little minx that was now standing in front of him. "You're right, this stuff is shit. If you'd like I would be more than happy to get you a bottle of something better."
Image Image Image Image Image
F'lin & Mnenomth | C'sian & Gastoneth | Sid'nis & Iolith | Ao'mek & Tlamehath | Lorcan & Hydranth
Image Image Image Image
So'cles & Ylpeysth | Locke & Wraith | Kisle'vis & Cetovas | Journeyman Zaynallen
Image Image Image Image Image
Darrow & Argow | Naji & Weisdan | Candidate Carver | Ferghas & Fersk | Corbin & Corsk

.::..::..::..::..::..
PC Character Tracker | Marks Tracker | NPC Stash
User avatar
Ember
Moderator
Posts: 1289
Joined: Tue Feb 23, 2016 5:50 am
Title: Plot Enabler
Pronouns: She/Her or They/Them
Age: 35

Thu Nov 17, 2016 5:48 pm

"Well well, what 'ave we here?"

The reality of the situation she had thrown herself in hit her like a ton of stone. Inside she was screaming at herself to turn on her heel and leave. But then, she reminded herself, if she did that it would look even more suspect on her part. No, she was going to have to glide through this conversation - if it could be called that - and hope she landed on two feet rather than flat on her face. Maybe if she gave him the flask back he would leave her alone? Though by the way he spoke, with that flirtatious tone of his, she doubted it would be as simple as that. She had to play it cool, level-headed, and not dig herself deeper. Any sign of panic would land her in shit and she wasn't about to let that happen. "You must be pretty fucking desperate to use a tone like that on a drudge." Way to go you dumb shit, add more fuel to the fire...

"You're right, this stuff is shit. If you'd like I would be more than happy to get you a bottle of something better."

She wasn't going to lie though, even if she had just insulted him right to his face. Something good would be nice. It had been far too long since she'd been able to feel the burn of a good whisky, or the delightful fruitiness of a beautiful wine. Perhaps a drink wouldn't hurt. Even drudges accepted drinks, right? "You're just sweet talking me to try and get your flask back." She was going to tuck it away, keep it for herself and maybe get a little bit tipsy off of the contents later after lights out. But instead, she held it out to him. "It's working." She wasn't completely immune to charm, and really, she hadn't let herself go that much since using this cover. A little dirt here, a little bit of grime under her nails there... no matter what she tried though, she wasn't completely able to pull off the look. It was better than it had been in the very beginning, when she'd first started trying to disguise herself. And it was by far the best one she'd chosen yet. She squared her shoulders and flashed the flask once more. "If you're offering to by me a drink, I'm going to take you to the ringers. Make you buy me something expensive. I have too refined a palate to properly appreciate your swill."
Dirce L'van D'kellen D'ante V'ric Na'vi K'rios J'on
Image Image Image Image Image Image Image Image

Fali'vas Koda'vis Melangell Cataren Sianca Feraliss Yaranavexa Rathiran
Image Image Image Image Image Image Image Image

Compendium | NPC Archive | Wanted Connections | Marks Tracker | Emporium


[ Threads Wanted ]

“It's better to write something, anything, than to starve the monster. The monster must feed. And it will feed on your soul if not your words. Its appetite is insatiable. Write to save yourself from the monster.”
― Don Roff ―
User avatar
Parker
Site Admin
Posts: 2394
Joined: Sat Mar 14, 2015 10:46 pm
Title: High Ebilness
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 32

Tue Nov 22, 2016 2:12 am

"You must be pretty fucking desperate to use a tone like that on a drudge."

Ferghas' eyes lit up even further at her saucy tone of voice. Yes, this was how he liked his women. Okay, it was one of many way that he liked his women, or men, for that matter. The wher candidate was not very picky when it came to lovers. "Desperate, darling? Oh no. Not at all. I prefer to think of myself as opportunistic, not desperate." He responded with the same tone of voice. "Besides, a pretty little thing like you shouldn't think of yourself as just a drudge. Labels are such ugly things, meant only to keep people down, and I personally don't like to use them." Ferghas stated with a dramatic wave of his arm.

"You're just sweet talking me to try and get your flask back. It's working."

The young lad was getting rather annoyed at being ignored. "Oi! I want some of this good stuff that she's talkin' about." He stated with irritation. Ferghas looked down at the lad and growled at him, "Bugger off now, brat. I'm sure you have a curfew you shouldn't be ignoring." He said and shooed the kid off, then turned his attention back to the woman. "Is it now? I'm glad to hear I haven't lost my charm." He took his flask back and put it in his coat pocket. The kid tried to be sneaky and pull that flask out of his pocket, but Ferghas put a stop to that. "I'm not going to tell you twice... bugger off." He practically growled at the kid.

"If you're offering to by me a drink, I'm going to take you to the ringers. Make you buy me something expensive. I have too refined a palate to properly appreciate your swill."

A curious look crossed his face for a split second. "A drudge with a refined palate....so you do agree with me that labels shouldn't matter." He couldn't help but tease her. While he did mean what he said about not liking to use labels, he also realized the truth in them as well. Most drudges would be grateful for the bottom shelf swill not even he would touch even if he were desperate. For her to say she has a refined palate was most curious to him. Granted, the most likely reason was that she knew an opportunity when she saw one. "I would be more than happy to treat you to something more refine. In fact, I insist upon it. When would you be free to get that drink?"
Image Image Image Image Image
F'lin & Mnenomth | C'sian & Gastoneth | Sid'nis & Iolith | Ao'mek & Tlamehath | Lorcan & Hydranth
Image Image Image Image
So'cles & Ylpeysth | Locke & Wraith | Kisle'vis & Cetovas | Journeyman Zaynallen
Image Image Image Image Image
Darrow & Argow | Naji & Weisdan | Candidate Carver | Ferghas & Fersk | Corbin & Corsk

.::..::..::..::..::..
PC Character Tracker | Marks Tracker | NPC Stash
User avatar
Ember
Moderator
Posts: 1289
Joined: Tue Feb 23, 2016 5:50 am
Title: Plot Enabler
Pronouns: She/Her or They/Them
Age: 35

Thu Dec 01, 2016 10:40 am

"Desperate, darling? Oh no. Not at all. I prefer to think of myself as opportunistic, not desperate."

She held up a finger. "I would like to, with every ounce of humbleness I possess, like to challenge that thought. It was said with a bit of a smile, just a little bit, because if she were honest she missed human interaction. Oh, she had plenty of it each day, but never like this. When was the last time she had taken the time to let her hair down, to even consider letting her guard down for more than a few moments? It couldn't hurt, right? It wasn't like they had found her. Unless he was one of them... The paranoia that had wracked her brain for so many Turns was starting to slither its way through her, and she was starting to look for ways out of this just in case.

Knives, she knew where her knives were. She knew how much she could drink, even if it had been a while since she'd last had a sip. There were exits to the the right and one directly behind her. She was tiny, but she knew where to strike if he tried to grab her. Comforting herself with the essentials soothed her just enough to put starch back in her spine. Even if she was now weary of him, which she reminded herself she should have been right from the start, she kept the smile on her face because she knew a sudden frown would be most suspicious of all. If he were after her, and she tried to tell herself that he wasn't, then he would have struck by now.

Somehow, that did little to comfort her, and she resigned herself to remaining in his company just a bit longer. Keep up the act, recall his name, watch how he moved, try and get some idea of how he spent his time in the Weyr and then... avoid those places like the ghost of Faranth herself was after her.

"Besides, a pretty little thing like you shouldn't think of yourself as just a drudge. Labels are such ugly things, meant only to keep people down, and I personally don't like to use them."

She lifted a brow, now pulled out of her obsessive thoughts long enough to catch the rest of his words. "Pretty? Well now, are you sure you haven't been hitting the flask a little too hard?" The part of her that had once been Heir to the Lord of High Reaches was secretly pleased with the compliment. Saibra had failed to keep in touch with that part of herself, and in her opinion, for good reason. It would do her no good for one, and for two, it usually gave her away. It was a mark of sorts, one she couldn't scrub away, only hide.

Thinking of marks reminded her of the tattoo on her finger, and she quickly made sure her hand was hidden from view, lest it be seen. "So by your logic, we're of the same rank as the Weyrwoman herself? Perhaps it would be best if I keep the flask after all. I might name it, make the claim more official." She was teasing, of course, and she knew full well he didn't mean it that way. If she was trying to pretend, might as well have some fun. If this was her last encounter with a living being well... fuck it. She would just have to find some way to maim him as she was being brought down.

"A drudge with a refined palate....so you do agree with me that labels shouldn't matter."

"Wait a minute, now I never said that." It took her a moment too long to realize he had only been teasing and she gave him a playful shove, though it was light enough that it would barely move him. Even if she put her full weight into it, she doubted he would feel it. She wasn't as strong as she'd once been. That, for whatever reason, brought along an image of her father, and while once that would have brought tears to her eyes, she had long ago accepted the fact that tears wouldn't do shit for her. She did hold her head a little high, and finished up with what little sweeping there was left to do in the little corner she'd sequestered herself off in. Or, at least, it had been a private little area until him and that little kid had come along.

"I would be more than happy to treat you to something more refine. In fact, I insist upon it. When would you be free to get that drink?"

She gave it a moment to consider it, or at least make it seem that way. In the meantime she was thinking of other things, of those exits, of the tunnels, of where best to hide herself if it came to it. Maybe if she appealed to the Weyrwoman... but why the fuck would the Weyrwoman see a drudge, or at least someone who was portraying themselves as one? Besides, even if she tried, she had no way to prove who she was - all that she had left of her old life was that bane of her existence tattoo, and she was more likely to be sent back to the Reaches, where she'd probably be hanged, than to be granted asylum.

Perhaps if she'd tried when she'd first arrived...

Now that she thought about it, she really did need to get shitfaced. Maybe... Maybe to just forget it all for a little while at least.

She set the broom aside and dusted her hands off on her skirts. "That depends on how many marks you're willing to spend. I may not look it, but I could drink your ass under the table. It would be kind of sweet, to see you whimpering and begging "No more, not another drop." It'll be so bad, you might even consider becoming a stone cold sober man for the remainder of your days."
Dirce L'van D'kellen D'ante V'ric Na'vi K'rios J'on
Image Image Image Image Image Image Image Image

Fali'vas Koda'vis Melangell Cataren Sianca Feraliss Yaranavexa Rathiran
Image Image Image Image Image Image Image Image

Compendium | NPC Archive | Wanted Connections | Marks Tracker | Emporium


[ Threads Wanted ]

“It's better to write something, anything, than to starve the monster. The monster must feed. And it will feed on your soul if not your words. Its appetite is insatiable. Write to save yourself from the monster.”
― Don Roff ―
User avatar
Parker
Site Admin
Posts: 2394
Joined: Sat Mar 14, 2015 10:46 pm
Title: High Ebilness
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 32

Sun Dec 04, 2016 11:11 pm

"I would like to, with every ounce of humbleness I possess, like to challenge that thought."

Ferghas gave a feigned look of offense. "My dear woman you wound me deeply." He said as he placed a hand over his heart as if it was literally hurt. "I promise to you, desperate is the last thing I am." He'd known desperate in his life time. Back when he was still a child and living holdless with his abusive father. Those times had been desperate. Until he'd finally taken control of his own life and decided that he was worth more than living in some hole in the ground with a man that didn't give a shit about him. Since then Ferghas had sworn to never go back to that life of poverty again, no matter what he had to do.

"So by your logic, we're of the same rank as the Weyrwoman herself? Perhaps it would be best if I keep the flask after all. I might name it, make the claim more official."

"I've barely hit it at all. Come now, though, truly you realize how pretty you are m'dear?" He asked with a charming smile and a wink. "Same rank? No, of course not. Obviously the Weyrwoman has more rank and authority than you or I. I do believe that everyone can potentially have the potential to be the same rank. I suppose I believe we are all equal." One man bled the same way as another. If that didn't make everyone equal he didn't know what did. As for rank, his goal was to obtain some rank himself...eventually. Which is why he decided to stick around here and try seeing what he could do as a wher handler.

"That depends on how many marks you're willing to spend. I may not look it, but I could drink your ass under the table. It would be kind of sweet, to see you whimpering and begging "No more, not another drop." It'll be so bad, you might even consider becoming a stone cold sober man for the remainder of your days."

Ferghas burst out laughing at that. "Well then! Now I must insist that you allow me to take you drinking now. It's not often that someone is brave enough to declare they can drink me under the table and less often that it's a lovely woman that is challenging me." Ferghas held out his arm to her in invitation. "Shall we then?" He wasn't sure where this evening was going to head, but he was sure that it was going to be a fun one. Anything would be more fun than dealing with a bratty child. Looking around he didn't see the lad anywhere. Perhaps he should have been worried that the drunk child was going to end up getting himself hurt, but he really didn't care.
Image Image Image Image Image
F'lin & Mnenomth | C'sian & Gastoneth | Sid'nis & Iolith | Ao'mek & Tlamehath | Lorcan & Hydranth
Image Image Image Image
So'cles & Ylpeysth | Locke & Wraith | Kisle'vis & Cetovas | Journeyman Zaynallen
Image Image Image Image Image
Darrow & Argow | Naji & Weisdan | Candidate Carver | Ferghas & Fersk | Corbin & Corsk

.::..::..::..::..::..
PC Character Tracker | Marks Tracker | NPC Stash
User avatar
Ember
Moderator
Posts: 1289
Joined: Tue Feb 23, 2016 5:50 am
Title: Plot Enabler
Pronouns: She/Her or They/Them
Age: 35

Sat Dec 10, 2016 8:31 pm

"I promise to you, desperate is the last thing I am."

Desperation was a funny thing, and from her initial judgement of him, he didn't seem the sort to sink that low. He actually seemed like a man with certain standards. Which she found funny considering he'd been the one to give a child alcohol. She scratched her nose and lifted a shoulder. "I suppose you're not desperate then. But I've got my eyes on you." She flicked two fingers at her eyes, then pointed them in his direction. Don't make me regret this decision... She was taking a chance on trusting him with her company. It might prove to be a mistake later on, but for now she wanted human companionship so badly that she was placing her trust in a virtual stranger. At least she could stab him if it came to it. She had just sharpened her knife, too.

"I've barely hit it at all. Come now, though, truly you realize how pretty you are m'dear?"

Another person might have flushed at such a high compliment. Saibra was long past the point of letting her cheeks turn red over pretty words. She did try and brush him with her broom though, and rolled her eyes. "Be careful. Flattery might get you everywhere with me." Not really. She didn't know when, or if, she'd ever be ready for intimacy again. That meant letting someone closer to her than what she was allowing now. It was fun though, this little back and forth flirting, the banter. She would let it continue, and she would know when to cut it short. "If you must know, I haven't been called pretty in a long time. So i'm not entirely sure if you're trying to sweeten me up or not right now."

"Same rank? No, of course not. Obviously the Weyrwoman has more rank and authority than you or I. I do believe that everyone can potentially have the potential to be the same rank. I suppose I believe we are all equal."

It almost fell from her lips that she'd once been of a rank. But she bit down on her tongue before the words could slip and nodded her understanding. "I don't think I'll ever be of a rank. Which doesn't bother me, to tell you the truth. I'm content... well, no. I'm not content where I am. But I'm too old for most things so I'm more or less stuck where I am right now." She lifted her shoulders, and thought she rather expertly hid her disappointment at such a revelation.

"Well then! Now I must insist that you allow me to take you drinking now. It's not often that someone is brave enough to declare they can drink me under the table and less often that it's a lovely woman that is challenging me."

The grin was back on her face and she decided to take the chance. She slid her hand through his arm. "And it isn't often that I have such a lovely man to prove wrong. Are you ready to get to get so drunk you regret breathing?" She chuckled and patted his arm. "I mean it. I might look tiny, and a lightweight," Faranth knew she needed to put on some weight after so many Turns on the run and going with the bare necessities. "But you're in for a whirlwind. You'll be worse off than the kid in the end."
Dirce L'van D'kellen D'ante V'ric Na'vi K'rios J'on
Image Image Image Image Image Image Image Image

Fali'vas Koda'vis Melangell Cataren Sianca Feraliss Yaranavexa Rathiran
Image Image Image Image Image Image Image Image

Compendium | NPC Archive | Wanted Connections | Marks Tracker | Emporium


[ Threads Wanted ]

“It's better to write something, anything, than to starve the monster. The monster must feed. And it will feed on your soul if not your words. Its appetite is insatiable. Write to save yourself from the monster.”
― Don Roff ―
User avatar
Parker
Site Admin
Posts: 2394
Joined: Sat Mar 14, 2015 10:46 pm
Title: High Ebilness
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 32

Wed Dec 28, 2016 6:21 pm

"I suppose you're not desperate then. But I've got my eyes on you."

Ferghas gave her a wicked little smile as he held his hands up, palms out, in defense. "Fair enough, darling. Besides...I think I'd rather you have your eyes on me. Otherwise how am I ever going to win you over with my astonishing good looks." While he was egotistical and a braggart, he managed to say such a thing without it coming off as too egotistical. Instead his tone was more charming and playful. Charisma had always been one of his better assets. He discovered the trait young and when he realized how much easier it was to manipulate people when they liked you, then he began to cultivate it better.

"Be careful. Flattery might get you everywhere with me. If you must know, I haven't been called pretty in a long time. So i'm not entirely sure if you're trying to sweeten me up or not right now."

"Everywhere eh? Well then, I suppose I'll just have to keep flattering you. I rather like it when I know I can go everywhere with a pretty girl." He stated with obvious flirtation. Okay, his banter was a little beyond flirtation and more like obvious suggestive comments. She didn't seem to mind though, so he wasn't going to either. "Of course I am. Isn't that what all men do when they wish for the company of said pretty woman? The only question I have though is if it's working."

"I don't think I'll ever be of a rank. Which doesn't bother me, to tell you the truth. I'm content... well, no. I'm not content where I am. But I'm too old for most things so I'm more or less stuck where I am right now."

"No one is ever truly stuck in the situation they're in. Unless, of course, we're talking physically stuck then there's not a lot to be done about that." Ferghas said with a bit of humor. "Metaphorically speaking, though, there is always a way out of a situation. Trust me, I've gotten myself in and out of some rather hairy situations that seemed nearly impossible. If you're not content where you are now...fix it. The only one stopping you is you." Ferghas, on occasion, could honestly try and help people like now. Then again, being stuck in a place you didn't care for hit rather close to home.

"And it isn't often that I have such a lovely man to prove wrong. Are you ready to get to get so drunk you regret breathing? I mean it. I might look tiny, and a lightweight. But you're in for a whirlwind. You'll be worse off than the kid in the end."

Ferghas put his hand on top of hers as they headed towards the dining hall. He would have to keep his eyes open to make sure he didn't get caught drinking as a candidate, but he wasn't too worried about that. "Any time you wished to be proved wrong, let me know. Yes, I believe I am ready...though we'll see who will be regretting what by the time the night ends." He said playfully. This was turning out to be a far better night than he thought it was going to be. Faranth only knew what sort of mischief and fun the two of them would get into...hopefully nothing they couldn't get themselves out of.

{fin}
Image Image Image Image Image
F'lin & Mnenomth | C'sian & Gastoneth | Sid'nis & Iolith | Ao'mek & Tlamehath | Lorcan & Hydranth
Image Image Image Image
So'cles & Ylpeysth | Locke & Wraith | Kisle'vis & Cetovas | Journeyman Zaynallen
Image Image Image Image Image
Darrow & Argow | Naji & Weisdan | Candidate Carver | Ferghas & Fersk | Corbin & Corsk

.::..::..::..::..::..
PC Character Tracker | Marks Tracker | NPC Stash
Post Reply
cron