Who F'inn, Aignes, K'zre, Kaetryn
What Clutchmates catch up, air some dirty launder and plan fun things like tattoos and goat clothes.
When Day 8 of Month 7 of Turn 2719
Where Living Cavern, Fort Weyr

Living Caverns
This cavern, having been created by bubbles in the volcanic flow of this extinct volcano, has a breathtaking ceiling — a vast dome that arches high above the heads of the weyrfolk that scurry around beneath it. A hollow echo can be heard from loud enough noises, and the chatterings of various firelizards are consequently multiplied into a chaotic babble. All in all, the living cavern is a loud place.
Tables are scattered around the room, apparently in no particular order. Over to one side near the kitchens, two medium sized serving tables are constantly spread with snacks, klah, and other goodies. The tables look worn, yet perfectly fitted to the atmosphere of the caverns. In the 'corners' of the cavern, smaller two and four place tables are set up for more private talks or just a less chaotic atmosphere in which to eat.

F'inn is grinning as he strides into the living cavern with his arm draped around K'zre's shoulders. Sure, one hand is in a cast and the other has a few splinted fingers, but otherwise? All is right with the world. It's just the sort of satisfaction that comes from having successfully bribed a proddy weyrmate out of being in a snippy funk. "You'll love it," he assures as he immediately steers them toward the tables of food. "But first, food." It is in the wake of the last that he nudges K'zre toward the desert table before heading for the more healthy options, himself. Course, that's when he spots Aignes and immediately pauses, "Hey… how you holding up?"

Aignes has embraced a return to the normal and is trying to put all that whole proddiness business behind her as she sits at a table with a giant pitcher of iced tea and her current knitting project. That familiar voice behind her has the weaver spinning around and F'inn's probably lucky he doesn't get stabbed with one of those knitting needles, although she shoots plenty of needles with her eyes until she spots the cast. She'll just skip answering his own question in favor of her own as she crosses her arms and settles for just glares. "What happened?"

All is NOT right with the world, thank-you-very-much. At least, that's what K'zre's expression says. A total counter to F'inn's grinning, the greenrider is looking sullen and apprehensive in turn, altering between scowling and shooting furtive glances toward the kitchen just as soon as their steps bring them inside. "Food? Why food first?" comes in flimsy argument against being encouraged toward the desserts. But while Kez sets his jaw, and there's a brief balling of his fists, it's only a moment before he's wilting and reaching for a plate. It's in the midst of deciding between cookies, or a cupcake, that F'inn is greeting Aignes. And Aignes is spinning around to shoot dagger-eyes at F'inn. But Kez doesn't see that, because his eyes are on the desserts (even if he's not seeing THEM either), a suspicious hunch of his shoulders making his discomfort all the clearer. His plate is still empty when he turns, eyeing the knitting weaver skeptically before darting a glance to F'inn and his cast.

F'inn winces mildly at the daggers being shot his way, one arm raising to push his hair off his face with the back of his wrist. "Punching walls is not a good idea," he allows. "It's a long story.. Things were crazy the day Czarduinath went up." Does he feel a little guilty about leaving her to strangers? He does. But at the same time, one of them was S'van and he is certain that S'van, at least, treated her right. "Did.. Ah…" Yeah, somethings are just not easy to ask. His attention, however, sweeps over to K'zre, his chin dipping toward the sweets as he moves to start filling a plate with healthy options. "Grab something to tide you over, I got the healthy choices for us. You want anything, Aignes?"

Don't be such a sour-puss. Oh wait, it's Kez. Carry on. Fortunately, to make up for his sulks, Kaet's all bounces and grins as she steps lightly into the caverns from deeper within the Weyr. A streak of lurid green paint highlights one cheekbone, while splatters of blue and fuchia decorate the leather pants of her working uniform. "Well, hail, hail, the gang's all here." A pause, and the brownrider's expression flickers slightly before ratcheting back up to cheerful once more. "Almost." Nudging past F'inn, she snags a few stalks of something green and a meatroll before pouring herself into a nearby seat and watching - and listening - with every evidence of interest and no shame at eavesdropping at all. So. Kaet.

"You don't say," Aignes responds perhaps all too dryly. "I was there for most of the crazy things. Unlike you." Fibercrafts might her main specialty, but she can also craft a mighty fine grudge as well. The look of betrayal is all up in her eyes for leaving her to STRANGERS. STRANGER DANGER, F'inn, after all. And even while she's still busy giving the bronzerider The Look (TM), she isn't rude enough to completely ignore her other clutchmates arrival. Both Kez and Kaet get curt nods. She's not made at them anyways.

K'zre is definitely bristling, and it's not getting any better. Even with the promise of healthy-options to off-set the sugar he'll no doubt consume, it takes in a bit longer before he turns back around to the desserts and makes his selection. Cookies wins. And with a small assortment on his plate, he stiffly turns back around to regard Aignes once again. Punching walls. That gets a slant of brown eyes toward the bronzerider and, a beat or two later, a longsuffering sigh. He might have even said something but, well. Kaet. Paint-splattered and bouncy. Grinning. Eavesdropping. She gets the weight of K'zre's gaze as he just… stares at her, brows pulled down into a little frown. As if he's trying to work out the mystery that is the brownrider. "You have paint on your cheek," he points out oh, so helpfully. And then he's taking purposeful, long-strided steps right over to claim a seat at Aignes's table. "Are you alright?"

F'inn hip bumps Kaetryn- the kinda bump that one would use on a bro, rather then a girl. Why? Cause it's Kaet and she's way more of a bro then a girl, any day of the week. "'Scuse you." Flicking a glance toward Aignes, he exhales a sigh, the sort of sigh that makes it clear that he's all to aware he's already lost this battle. "I'm sorry." It's really the only thing he /can/ say. "There were things going on that just made my being there a /really/ bad idea." Course, he's immediately frowning as he regards her, his lips pressing in a thinline. "If…. S'van?" He's assuming. "Treated you poorly, I'll kick his ass for you." Okay, so. He'll /try/ to kick his ass for her. S'van might be a better fighter, truth be told. Course, F'inn's pretty sure he's got him on the muscle/size end of things. Healthy options in hand (cast), he follows K'zre to the table, slidding into a seat before shooting a look at Kaet. "You might as well join us." Cause he's gonna get ganged up on and a front row seat will definately be more entertaining.

Good luck with that one. Even Kaet can't work out the mystery that is her. Moss-green eyes meet Kez's stare evenly, then she sticks out her tongue at him. "I do! Do you know what I was doing right before I escaped for a snack? Paperwork!" That word should not bring such cheer - but, this is the woman who was a secretary before being dragonnapped. "And why, you ask? Because I caught one of the little shits who's been… artistically improving the residential areas." Because crudely scrawled obscene drawings are 'artistic' these days. "Once I fortify myself, I get to go and shake free the names of his cohorts." That might just explain the cheer. She snaps a stalk in half and crunches down on the end, eyeing F'inn thoughtfully. "I don't know. If Aignes did that," and she nods to his broken parts, "I might just stay here and watch the show." She sends a saucy wink towards the greenrider - the not-proddy one - before allowing her mossy gaze to skim back over the group as a whole.

Aignes huffs as she goes to pour another glass of ice tea, no sweetener here. "Really? What things were going on were so important that you couldn't be there? Anybody could have shown up. ANYBODY. And… how exactly do you know his name?" The glaring upgrades now from pure betrayal to betrayed+suspicious. Even she didn't get his name! Although she is turning a bit red at the reminder of just what happened and so turns away from F'inn to focus on Kaet and K'zre and gives a small headshake for the paint covered clothing. "You know, if you use dish soap and soon, the clothes might not be totally ruined." The wink just gets an eyeroll.

More staring. "Paperwork." Deadpan. And now a bit of squinting, as K'zre tries to figure out if Kaet isis joking. "Is that… I don't… Hm." But whatever it is that Kez is wondering about, he seems to decide to just let it go. "Aignes didn't do that," is offered just as flatly, and probably just as unnecessarily. "F'inn did that to himself." But Kez isn't about to offer up that story, even if the bronzerider kind of already told it. A reach for a cookie, a small bite taken as he shoots a look between Aignes and F'inn and their back and forth. But before the bronzerider has a chance to explain further, Kez is cutting in with a quick, "It's my fault." At least for the *things* that did not allow F'inn to be there.

F'inn exhales a snort in response to Kaetryn's suggestion that Aignes broke his hand. "As if." He did it to himself. Not much better, granted, but there it is. Looking back at Aignes, he sighs, scrubbing his uncasted hand over his face. "It's complicated, Aignes. There were things going on that made my being there problematic." When K'zre speaks up, he frowns and shakes his head. "It was not your fault, K'zre. It.." Frowning more, he folds his arms atop the table and leans forward to meet Aignes' eyes. "K'zre's mother showed up. She is very unpleasant. She is very disapproving of our relationship. And she was doing everything in her power to put a stop to it. Czaduinath's rising was an ideal opportunity for her leap on. I know it's probably not enough to appease you, but S'van was there, I was certain you would be fine." Pausing a beat, he looks momentarily confused before oh'ing. "We've talked. S'van helped me out alot right after impressing Nym. And he's going to show me some really cool tricks for Search and Rescue." Things that will, no doubt, give K'zre fits and then some.

"Hmm." Kaet's murmur is noncommital, although her cheerfulness is dimmed in the face of so much GLOOM and DOOM. And sulking. Still gnawing on her stalk, she reaches up to finger several of her piercings, eyes flickering between the two greenriders and the undoubtedly actually-to-blame bronzerider - because he's the guy, and thus it's his fault. Duh. "I like paperwork," she reminds Kez mildly. "And numbers. And filing. I'm also inordinately fond of forms and lists." Probably why she's an adrenaline junkie - needs that release somewhere, and all the good ones are taken. Casted hand is eyed again, expression darkening slightly as she listens in on F'inn's commentary. "Did you break it punching her?" she asks - after all, "wall" could be a euphemism. "'Cause I know how tempting it can be to punch people like that." She won't even arrest him for assault - freebie, this time, out of solidarity for the foibles of interfering relatives. Letting out a huff of a sigh, she finishes the last of her greens and leans back in her chair. "Sorry I wasn't there, Aignes," she murmurs unhappily, "Szorvy and I were out on patrol." Because that would have made things better, right?

Aignes stares over at Kaet at the suggestion the F'inn had actually punched her. The absurdity of that at least gets a small snort. While her unseasonably long sleeves and high collar might be hiding a mark or two, none were from F'inn. Or punches. "People like what?" Explain to her face just how she might be punchable. She reaches out to pat K'zre's arm as a sort of consolation. "It's not your fault unless you held him in a room and forced him." Then she'd withdraw her consoling pats. F'inn's explanation gets a sight and a hand massaging her temple. "It wasn't just S'van there, F'inn." Kaetryn's apology at least gets a smile. "That's sweet, but not the problem. Nymionth was there. F'inn was not." Hence, problem.

"Forms and paperwork doesn't explain how you got paint on your face," points out K'zre, who spends a moment eyeing that green-streak with disapproving eyes. "At least you caught… him." No more graffiti in the tunnels! And maybe Kez would have inquired more about that, if F'inn weren't explaining about his *mother*, and how it related to his vanishing act during Aignes's flight. And even if he won't disagree with F'inn's description of her, there *is* a drop of his eyes to the table and very thorough consideration for the cookies upon his plate. "Of course he didn't punch her!" K'zre is somewhat aghast that Kaet would even suggest such a thing, a side-eye shot toward the brownrider. This is, after all, his mother they are talking about. "It is my fault," is grumped more or less to himself, before one of those cookies is snatched up and aggressively bitten. *CHOMP*. But there's a shake of his head for the idea that he held F'inn in a room. "No." He confirms. Which means those consoling pats are totally his to keep.

"Nah," F'inn assures Kaet. "This was all me and the wall in the crafter's hall." Looking back at Aignes, he exhales a breath, clearly not the least bit happy about her being upset. "I'm really sorry, Aignes." He is. Not that he would have changed a thing, but he is sorry that she is upset. "I'll make it up to you, though?" Somehow, he doubts another tea set for her doll is going to cut it, but he'll try. Course, then K'zre is glowing at his cookies and trying to take blame on himself and F'inn just shakes his head and sighs. "I shouldn't have left you to strangers, Aignes," he admits in quiet tones. "And I am sorry for that." But he firmly believes that doing anything differently at that point in time would have been utterly disasterous. Course, he does flick a glance toward the paint on Kaet's face, his lips twitching in a smirk. "Probably from painting her own graffitti in the tunnels." Cause really, it's Kaet.

"There have been times I've been tempted to punch my aunt. Of course, I think that might land me in a bit more hot water than I need," Kaet sighs. Hence why she probably never actually acted on the impulse. "It's a valid question." Nope, she is not at all repentant about asking it. Aignes's indignation, however, has the brownrider looking confused for a tiny split-second, before she gapes, aghast. "Not you, dear! Kez's… interfering mother." She gives the male greenrider a sidelong look, as if to underscore how she very carefully did NOT use some of the more creative expressions she might have been tempted to. "If I thought for an instant Finn would punch you, I'd expect he would end up looking a great deal worse than he is now." Her tone suggests that if Aignes or Kez did not beat the bronzerider up for such foolishness, she'd be happy to step in and take care of it. Finn's suggestion garners a heavy snort. "I did not! I caught the little shit in the act, and this was part of his self-defense." She scrubs at the drying paint on her cheek, eyeing her lime-tinged fingers thoughtfully. "I like to think I have better color sense."

Aignes blushes a bit more when apparently she got the whole punch-target thing complete wrong. "Ohhhh, I uhhh… Thanks?" Is that what you say when someone threatens to retaliate for hypothetical injury on your behalf? And she'll definitely let K'zre keep the consoling pats, although she does sneak a cookie away when she withdraws her hand. Strong emotions require cookies. "You're lucky. At least you know Yasminath is absolutely besotted with Nymionth." And so the possibility of Nym not catching Yas is incomprehensible to her. And there's a smile for Kaetryn and her color sense. "Good to know you haven't gotten caught up in some misplaced avant-garde fashion trend. We can do much better with colors than that."

"You don't even know her!" argues K'zre, for the creative things that Kaet could have said (but didn't!) about his mother. Aignes can keep her cookie. Kez is apparently torn between eating them all and pushing the plate away because he kind of does both. A shove of his plate, and then the snatching of a cookie back off of it. Angry chomping ensues, complete with a bit of a look of his own toward F'inn, when he promises to make it up to Aignes. Because what does *that* mean?! It's a look that gets turned on Aignes (because it's just one of those days, apparently) for how lucky he is. "That doesn't… it doesn't… He still chased Czarduinath." It's not a slight on the bronze, simply a point-of-fact meant to illustrate K'zre's point that, "He might not win." Maybe Kez ought not to be in public; apparently, it's one of those days where everyone is going to get glared at. Blame proddy. Or maybe just blame Kez for being entirely too sensitive about things. "What's wrong with green?!"

F'inn rolls his eyes. "As if I'd resort to violence to solve a problem. I'm smarter then that. And we're… we're family. I'd never hit any of you. Well, /maybe/ Kaet, but you know." Course, he finishes it with a wink for Kaetryn, his lips twitching in a lopsided smile. "I dunno, green isn't a bad color for her," he notes to Aignes. Catching K'zre's look, he blinks once, then twice, then wisely opts to remain silent. Really, it's F'inn, it meant he'd take the time to build her a dollhouse, or something equally innocent. "He'll win," he counters as he grabs a lettuce wrap from his own plate and takes a large bite. He's confident in Nym and confident that Yasminath is going to be more inclined to move /toward/ his bronze rather then away. "And if he doesn't, it's fine." There will always be more flights. "I like to know you're in your head and completely aware of everything I'm doing," is murmured under his breath to K'zre.

"Does it matter?" Kaetryn replies flatly, with a long stare at Kez. "She disapproves of something that makes you happy. From what Finn says, she's actively attempting to sabatage something that makes you happy. That's all I care to know right now." A sensitive point for her, perhaps; but then, her whole reason for being at Fort in the first place stemmed from an all too similar situation, so perhaps a bit understandable. Lifting her glass of water, she stares broodingly into it for a second, then swills half of it down in one, long gulp. "Nothing wrong with green. It's my favorite color, bar none." YES, EVEN BROWN. "But this," and she swipes again at the vividly verdant streak, "is a bit too garish even for my admittedly questionable taste." Falling silent, the brownrider gives Kez one more long, thoughtful stare, then drops her gaze again, toying with her cooling meat roll.

"That's an awful shade of green for anybody. Even Kaet." Aignes is going to agree to disagree with F'inn here. But at least she's no longer shooting eye-daggers at him, so progress even if it's minute at the moment. "Speaking of questionable taste though… do you have any use for some ducky slippers? Or runner ones? Or I even have a couple pairs of dragon slippers." And she won't be using them for months. Probably. There is a sympathetic smile given to her fellow greenrider. "He did chase Czardi, but he also won that flight. And Yasminath's last. Seems to be quite the record for Nymionth. And at least you won't wake up with two strangers."

"She is not!" argues K'zre in defense of his absent mother. Who may or may not be attempting to sabotage their relationship. F'inn says yes. K'zre says no. Who has the right of it?! Probably (definitely) F'inn. But Kez is going to sit there and look grumpy either way, stuffing the last of his cookie into his mouth and eyeing that pushed-away plate that holds yet more. And then, rather than argue with F'inn over the assertion that Nym's gonna win Yas, he'll just reach out and steal himself a third cookie. A shake of his head for the offer of questionable slippers, and a mumbled, "No, thank you," before he's taking a bite. He'll even concede the neon-green debate, though it comes as a one-shouldered shrug of dismissal. The rest of the cookie gets broken into small pieces, and then the pieces popped into his mouth one at a time. Which means it's a lot easier to speak between bites. "You're right," comes with a pointed look at his plate, and not his fellow greenrider. "He did." Chase Czardi. Catch Czardi. Catch Yasminath. All of the above. Then a frown. A look at Aignes. A long moment of pause before he asks, "Two?"

F'inn immediately pushes to his feet and steps over to do his level best to wrap his arms around Kaet's shoulders and kiss the top of her head. "That's why you are my bro, Kaet." Assuming he's not pummeled into oblivion, he releases her and slides back into his seat to go back to work on the lettuce wrap. At the mention of K'zre waking up with strangers, F'inn shoots Aignes a Look, his lips twitching in a frown. "Nym's a good choice. He's gentle and considerate." Unlike his rider, apparently. HUFF.

Caught off-guard, Kaet's only response to hug-and-kiss-and-run is a blink, a gape, and a grin. "Babe, I always got your back - and that means," she adds, shooting a sniff in Kez's direction, "having yours, even when you don't know it's needed." Because no matter how many sparks the green and brownrider manage to shoot off of each other, there's always going to be that mutual adoration for the bronzerider. Who'da thunk a bronzer could cause anything but chaos? She does, however, drop the assault on Kez's mom; familiar, too, with what it's like to love someone who may not be quite so healthy for you. "My only concern," she murmurs mildly to the greenrider, "is your happiness." She might even be telling the truth. Aignes's slipper offer earns a thoughtful glance. "Runners?"

"Two," Aignes gulps and reaches for her glass of tea. While neon green might not be anybody's color, ruby red is apparently the weaver's today cause she is turning brilliant shades at the moment. "S'van apparently. And another rider from Xanadu." She's definitely not making eye contact with anybody when she offers up that confession. And then a cough and she straightens up and looks over to Kaetryn. "Yes, runner slippers. They're bright pink. And fuzzy. They're comfortable enough but not really my style… Although Czarduinath still squeals whenever she sees them. We can bring them over tonight if you want them? I somehow collected way too many…"

F'inn winks at Kaet, his familiar lopsided smile sliding easily onto his lips. "Do you know the name of the Xanadu rider," F'inn asks. Course, the more Aignes talks the more determined he becomes to lock K'zre in a room when Yasminath rises. If Nymionth wins? All good. If Nymionth doesn't? Still all good. It's Kaet's last that has him smiling again, pale eyes crinkling at the corners as he slides an arm around K'zre's shoulder. "Right? Isn't he just the sweetest thing?" Yes, he's taking his life into his hands.

That's alright Aignes; Kez will make all the eye-contact for you. Or at least, he'll just stare hard-core at his fellow greenrider and her ruby-red face. It's not meant to be rude. It's just Kez, being Kez, trying to suss out the truth of the situation and seeing absolutely nothing wrong with his less than socially acceptable approach. And his less than elegant, "You slept with two of them?" No disapproval here, mind. Just something akin to shock. Because they *are* talking about Aignes. Aignes. Who thankfully gets some relief from The Look if just because he's turning it on Kaetryn once again. Or maybe it's on F'inn, for that kiss-and-run (even if it was her head that he kissed). A brief moment in which Kez looks like he might speak, or at least like he wants to speak, and then a bit of a deflating when he just opts for another bite of his cookie. "I am NOT sweet!" says the cookie-nomming greenrider right before he noms another cookie. He at least attempts to look surly and spine-y beneath that arm, even if his glower is directed at the table.

"No, you're all sour and saucy, but that's not a bad thing. It's just you." Kez has given Kaet a million reasons to dislike him, but still she persists in being unnaturally fond of him; clearly, she's a glutton for punishment. Which, come to think of it, might be why she didn't react poorly to Finn suggesting he might - gasp - strike her. Ahem. "I want pink runner slippers. I will make a pink runner hat and scarf and mittens to go with them," she declares firmly.

"I uhh, yes? But I would never, if it hadn't been just… ugh!" Aignes slips down in her chair as she tries not to actually die of mortification. It might be a pretty close call. As for F'inn's question, she breaks enough from her own pity party to look back at the bronzerider. "Why do you want to know his name?" She raises a suspicious eyebrow at that. But as for Kaetryn accepting the embarrassingly pink slippers, she nods. "I think I might even have some yarn to match it already. I'll bring that too."

"Just a little sour," F'inn teases in warm tones. "Just enough to keep me on my toes." Leaning in, he brushes a kiss over K'zre's temple before settling back in to finish off his lettuce wrap. "Just curious," F'inn admits to Aignes. Course, he doesn't find two partners at all questionable and really? S'van, at least, if hot as they come. "Are we still getting tattoos, Kaet?"

K'zre might not sink down to join Aignes in her death-by-mortification, but he's looking equally uncomfortable on his side of the table. Even if his version of looking uncomfortable comes with hunched shoulders and pointedly fixed stares toward a plate of cookies he's already half-demolished. "I'm not… I don't even know that that means," he admits, looking both confused and irritated at being called sour. And saucy. Even temple-kisses don't smooth out the scowl on the greenrider's face. He even appears to miss the exchange of pink runner slippers (for surely that would earn a side-eye, right?!) and Aignes' offer to bring matching pink yarn. But there *is* a slant of his gaze for the question of the other rider's name — maybe because he also questions why F'inn is so interested. Or maybe it's for the question about tattoos because, "What do you mean, still getting tattoos?"

But he's booooring! Not that Kaet herself would know, but meta! Ahem. "Yes, please," she chirps at Aignes. "Having the right color will spare me going to the Hall and scouring their dye lots." Then, even more chipperly, "Hey, I'm always up for tattoos, and I think we still owe ourselves a matching set, no? Join us, greenies?" she asks teasingly, twinkling at Aignes and K'zre. "I'll bet we could come up with a design that would suit all of us." She shoves up one of her sleeves, showing off the Thunderbird badge tattoo artfully nestled in the vines winding around her upper arm. "Maybe something on our wrists," she muses, lifting her hand to study the uninked area with a thoughtful stare.

"It means you can be cranky," F'inn provides in relaxed tones. Smoothing a hand along K'zre's arm, his expression remains warm and relaxed, a hint of amusement shining in his eyes. "Kaet and I had discussed all of us getting tattoos after the hatching. But things got so busy, we never got around to it." It's the thunderbird tattoo that captures his attention next, blue eyes definately showing interest in that. "I so getting that," he decides without a second thought.

Honestly, Aignes was probably as lucky as she could be as for the final result of her first flight. Not one but two hot looking bronzeriders. Too bad it was just so completely out of character that she'll be utterly embarrassed by the mere thought of that night for Turns to come. Or until Czarduinath manages to top that particular flight experience in awkwardness. Aignes stares at F'inn for a moment before finally offering, "His name was K'vir." And as for Kez's confusion, she leans offer to whisper. "I think they're just teasing you." She's pretty sure of it. As for the tattoos, her eyes widen as Kaet shows her off and widen even more when she suggests the joining in of the tattoos. "I uhhh, no. Thank you." She'll reflexively reach out to smooth out her shirt sleeves as if the cloth will protect her from wild roaming tattoo artists plaguing the halls of the weyr.

"I don't want to be cranky," comes, well… crankily. K'zre is just going to be all sorts of irritable and surly and unmanageable until Yasminath rises, no doubt. And then there's Aignes, offering explanations that have Kez looking… well. It might be impossible for him to look *more* unhappy, but now there's the addition of his own flush, though it doesn't reach ruby-red status. He does snap his mouth shut from more complaints however, when he seems to realize that he's doing exactly what he said he didn't want to do, opting to just nibble on his FOURTH cookie and glower sullenly toward his plate. The name of the other bronzerider is not familiar, so at least Aignes is spared further inquiry from Kez on that particular life-event. The tattoos tho? That has him shooting looks around the table. To F'inn first, and then to Kaet. And then to her tattoo, because despite himself he's curious. But there's a abrupt shake of his head for the offer to join them. "No." Beat. Two. Three. "Thank you." Even if he's shooting looks at Kaet's ink when he thinks no one is looking.

"It doesn't hurt," Kaet soothes. "Much," comes the honest appendage. Her gaze drops to the stylized vines winding up over her arm, tracing the stark black lines fondly. "But I would never dream of trying to force you, so just know, the offer remains open indefinately." She beams a smile at her fellow female, then lets her gaze drift to the boys, slowly sliding down her sleeve again. "I still have the original design, I'll get it to you so you can take it with you." She doesn't miss Kez's stealthy peeks, but she simply offers him a sweet smile and a slight shrug. "Well, I promise whatever design Finn and I decide on, it'll look good on any of us." Them four, and probably the absent Care as well. "Just in case."

"It might be fun," F'inn provides to K'zre. "You could get a crescent moon for Yasminath? She'd /love/ that." And F'inn has more then a few ideas on locations. Course, those he'll keep to himself, thank you. "Think about it, we'll discuss it after Yasminath has risen." Pushing to his feet, he crosses the room and grabs a pot of klah, two mugs and a bowl of sweetner. When he returns, both mugs are filled, one (and the sweetner) nudged toward K'zre before he reaches for his own. "Thanks Kaet," he adds in regards to the tattoo. "I really like the thunderbird." And he will be getting it. "There you go. Draw up some designs and we can all look at them. You can get something tiny, Aignes? Easily hidden."

"It'll pass," Aignes gives to cranky Kez. The crankiness is a feeling she knows ALL TOO WELL. And she'll also help relieve the other greenrider of another of those dangerous cookies, snagging it and nibbling on it herself. She squirms at the mention of tattoos and even turns a bit white when F'inn asks her to get something tiny. "I don't like needles. Not even the healer ones, no offense K'zre." There's a half smile given to the healer before turning back to the pro-tattooists among them. "Although the Thunderbird does look interesting. You could probably convince a few more of your wingmates to get it as well." Since Search and Rescue is where they put all the crazy adrenaline junkies who might like tattoos, right?

"… Fun?" Because Kez fails to see how a tiny needle, repeatedly jabbing him to deposit ink beneath his skin, will be a fun time for anyone. Except maybe the one jabbing him. This thought is probably clearly illustrated in the look he lands on F'inn. A look that totally follows the bronzerider when he rises, collects Klah and supplies, and returns to the table. It leaves only once there's a mug set before him (with sweetener!) and Kez is turning his attention toward this new addition instead of his weyrmate. "None taken," comes in a low murmur for Aignes (who is more than welcome to his cookies — save him from the cookies!) "Many people dislike needles." And he's learned not to take it personally. "It is. I like it, too," he agrees, echoing both F'inn and Aignes for the look of that Thunderbird tattoo. But that doesn't mean he's going to get one.

K'zre is getting a tattoo. It /is/ happening. He might not know it now, but he will. Oh yes, yes he will. Rather then voice any of that, F'inn turns his attention to Kaet. "You said you had a guy who does them, right? I'm gonna need to wait til the cast is off, but… As soon as that happens, I'm in." Who knows, maybe he'll get his ears pierced, or other body parts!

"It takes a certain temperament to find the experience enjoyable, perhaps," Kaetryn murmurs smoothly, shooting F'inn an ironic smile. "But after all is said and done, there is a certain visceral satisfaction to seeing something so uniquely you limned indelibly upon your body." Sleeve is pushed up again, thorny vines studied affectionately. "I have a girl who does them," she corrects the bronzerider gently. "R'hra has a guy I've been meaning to try, one of these days. He's supposed to be really good - rides for Igen. Maybe we'll try him together." She says it with a straight face - but it's Kaet. There's innuendo there, it's just comes naturally. AHEM. Declining to put any more pressure on Kez or Aignes, she instead focuses her mossy gaze upon the bronzerider. "I have so many thoughts for you."

Aignes turns a very serious eye towards the design as wheels begin to turn. But not tattoo wheels. "You know, I could probably make that design into a quilt. If you wanted." The offer is mostly for Kaet since it's her design. As for the mention of there being not one, but two folks doing tattoos, she blinks. "Why are there so many people stabbing themselves with ink?" Just why? Even though they already went over how some folks find it satisfying somehow, that fact just can't stay in her head. It doesn't belong there. It just hits it and rolls off like it never happened.

K'zre is (apparently) getting a tattoo. He might actually want one, even if he's doing his best to maintain that staunch defense of his original position (that being: no). But nothing wrong with appreciating nice artwork, even if it happens to be scrawled across flesh rather than canvas. Perhaps it is for the best that he totally misses all that innuendo. It flies right over his head and lands somewhere in the bowl, missed entirely by the greenrider. "There are many more than two," comes in a low murmur for Aignes. As for why? That one, Kez can't really answer, so he doesn't even try. But mention of F'inn's cast has K'zre casting a critical look toward the bronzerider, lips pressed into a thin line before he asks, "Where are you getting this tattoo? Maybe you *should* get it before the cast comes off, or they might ground you longer."

"Unless he's getting it on his ass - or some other place that will make riding uncomfortable," Kaet amends, "they don't ground you for a tattoo. Just gotta wait a few hours afterwards before going between to let things settle - and cover it well." Thus speaks the voice of experience. "And while there's nothing wrong with an ass tattoo," thus speaks the voice of experience? "he might want his first one to be somewhere he can show off to more than just you." Her grin is positively vulpine as she flashes white teeth in Kez's direction. "Some people display their art on their clothes. Some on their walls, or tables. Some prefer to show it off on their own body." She rubs her hands gently across her arms and turns that sly grin on Aignes. "If you'd like to see more, let me know when you come by my weyr later." Yeah, that's not even veiled.

"You do realize how frightening that sounds," F'inn laughs in response to Kaetryn. "But I'm game. K'zre gets veto power, mind you." So Kaet's work is cut out for her on that front. "It's art," he provides to Aignes. "Like a wall hanging, or a painting, but one you carry with you forever." At the question of where, he glances at K'zre and considers a moment. "Well, the Thunderbird Tattoo is definately bicep thing. If we decide on another? We can discuss-" Whatever else he was going to say is lost as his gaze goes distant. After a moment, one brow arches, then the other and he exhales an amused laugh. "Um…" Glancing at K'zre, his expression is more then a little amused. "Apparently we are goat sitting for a week. Your father and Toith are on the way with Marvin. He is not," he adds in comically seriously tones. "For eating, so sayeth Toith."

"You can have a painting forever," Aignes grumbles as she oh so helpfully goes to save K'zre from another of those vicious cookies. Which she then almost chokes on when Kaetryn makes her offer. "I think I've seen enough new body parts for this month." So many new body parts! She may just ding, dong, ditch the package when she goes by to drop off those runner slippers to avoid even the possiblity. But nearly choking on cookie is forgotten with the blink towards F'inn's news. "A goat? How are you getting a goat to your weyr?"

Again, there is that look. The one that says K'zre is trying to figure out if there's a joke here, or Kaet is being serious. But really, it's not Kaet he should be turning that stare on, but F'inn. Because it's his body that will be acquiring this tattoo. Thankfully, he's already asked the most important question (where!) and the answer is a good one (i.e. it is not 'his ass'. Because that would get veto'd). "But you can't *carry* the painting with you everywhere," he points out nice and logically for Aignes. And while he might have missed that first round of innuendo, he's not missing the second. Or, rather… he very strongly suspects there was innuendo that second time. Which has him squinting between Kaet and Aignes until the declination comes. Maybe thankfully, they're saved from questions by the announcement that F'inn and Kez are, "Goat sitting?" because that's the sort of announcement that apparently has the power to turn thoughts away from naked bodies. "He's… what? Why?!" Kez does not *want* a goat! Which he is happy to state very clearly with, "I don't want a goat."

"To be fair," Kaet replies helpfully, "there is nothing new about my body. I have the exact same parts you do." Still, the brownrider knows when she's dismissed, and she bows out with a soft laugh and a nod of her head towards the greenie. "No worries, I was only teasing." Maybe. A little bit. But she allows her attention to slide away from Aignes before she can discomfort the greenrider further. "Naturally," to Finn. "I would never dream of dragging you off to make permanant changes to your body without his knowledge. You can do whatever you want to you, but he at least has the right to object." Maybe not be listened to - but damned if she's going to help the bronzerider do anything behind his weyrmate's back. Then - "Goat?" Blank look. "What in Faranth's name are you going to do with a goat? Read it bedtime stories? Dress it in booties? Oooh, Aignes," she gasps, "we could make it cute little booties and a hat and scarf and sweater!" Yeah, by the time R'sner gets this goat back, it will be totally decked.

"I assume R'sner and Toith will drop him on the ledge and secure him," F'inn admits. "It's his weyrmate's lifemate's pet. And apparently, he eats everything," is asided to K'zre. "We need to grab feed before we head up." At K'zre's questions and protests, F'inn just laughs, his shoulders rising and falling in a slow shrug. "I guess he's taking N'sir on vacation? This is… a family thing. We're goat sitting." He's cool with it, R'sner and N'sir have done a lot for them. "I think," he affords to Kaet. "That N'sir has made outfits for the goat, actually. He's a tailor," is afforded to Aignes. "Well, was a tailor… Now he's an assistant weyrlingmaster. N'sir," is added. "Not R'sner. R'sner is the weyrlingmaster. And I'm pretty sure N'sir would love it if Marvin came home with new clothes."

Aignes squints at Kaetryn as she can't really think of a retort to that aside from "But my parts are my parts…" There's a shrug for the tattoos. She might never get it, but she'll at least shut up about it for now. There's more interesting things to talk about, like this goat. "The little booties would probably also help keep his hooves quieter in the weyr." So practical as well as fashionable, the best type of garment! "But what are you going to do about the goat poop?"

"He will *NOT* be in the weyr!" Lines are definitely being drawn! And having a goat wander around their weyr? DEFINITELY where a line is! "He can stay on the ledge. He's a goat. He stays outside." It's enough to have K'zre looking all sorts of irritable again. Which isn't helped by the discussion of dressing him up. Kaet gets a look. Aignes gets a look. F'inn gets a look. All the looks before there's a sullen turn toward the plate of… "where are my cookies?!" because apparently, he missed Aignes snatching more for herself. A sigh. "Maybe you should watch him," he hisses at the weaver, "if you want to dress him up." But then there's F'inn, who apparently has the final word on this, and Kez is just glowering at his empty plate of cookies. "Fine." Grump.

For a long moment after her retort, Kaetryn gives Aignes a sidelong glance, as if aching to say something smart. Instead, however, she swallows whatever retort she might have to that statement and focuses on more important things. Like goats. And clothing said goats. "Maybe we could get the goat a tattoo," she muses. "Or a piercing. Something in its ear." From the sly tone of her voice, she isn't entirely serious - but, this is a woman who hails from Keroon. Where the Beastcraft is. Who knows what mischief she and hers got up to surrounded by all of those animals.

"I have a shovel," F'inn assures. They live in FORT, of course he has a shovel. Glancing at K'zre, F'inn shakes his head. "Marvin is an inside goat, not an outside goat, K'zre, you know that. It would be mean to make him stay outside. Ledge is fine, but near the hearth with Yasminath and Nym." Fortunately, F'inn is used to the LOOK and just grins back at K'zre. "It's going to be fine," he assures as he pushes to his feet and goes for more cookies. (And cupcakes, and a few stuffed pastries that he would have bathed in once upon a time) Setting the plate down in front of K'zre, he snags his mug of klah and takes a long swallow. "Besides, after N'sir being so sick, they probably need a vacation, you know that." Glancing back at Kaetryn, his smile broadens, laughter dancing in pale eyes.

"But… the ledge doesn't have a wall. What if he wanders off?" Aignes has not been around goats or really any other herdbeasts. She definitely doesn't know it's probably more likely the little sucker would manage to climb up into one of the higher weyrs somehow than fall to his demise, but she's worried for the unseen goat anyways. he didn't ask for this. "No piercing or tattoos. If people find them scary, imagine how much more it would hurt if you had no idea what was happening and someone started stabbing you with things." She shudders at the thought. "Czarduinath says we need to make him a little jacket like some of those racing runners wear before a race." And as for the mysterious whereabouts of K'zre's cookies, she dabs at her mouth with her napkin to get rid of any lingering cookie crumbs before straight-facedly replying with, "You ate them."

"I didn't mean outside-outside," grumbles K'zre. "I just… I meant… not in the weyr…" Which is just so much more precise. "He won't," comes in return for Aignes' fear of Marvin's falling to his death. "Yasminath won't let him fall." Or clamber over to someone else's ledge. And as they are currently weyrbound, the green has plenty of time for goat watching. And goat snuggling. And goat… dressing. "I don't… uh…" yeah. Kez is in agreement with Aignes on this one: No piercing the goat. "I don't think they'd like that." They being the actual owners of said goat. The plate of sweets is eyeballed. And then Aignes is eyeballed for her innocent observation. But even if Kez might suspect foul play, he's too busy deciding between cupcake or stuffed pastry to call her on it. "I know," comes a bit quieter, a bit more subdued, for the reminder of that recent illness. It's just hard for him to feel anything besides twitchy and irritable today.

"Then I'll just crochet him a hat. And scarf. And nosewarmer." From the slightly misty look in Kaet's eyes, she already has all sorts of ideas plotting out in that twisted brain of hers. Here's hoping N'sir has a halfway open mind. As her gaze falls upon Kez once more, it sharpens and narrows. "Is Yas going to be okay with it up there in her condition? If you need a place to stow it once she's - ah," and she offers several airy gestures in explanation, "I'm sure Szorvy would have no problem goatsitting for a bit. You know how he is on the feeding grounds." More likely to save the animals from his fellow dragons than eat them himself.

Fortunately for Kaet, she could send Marvin home in knitted chaps and a Freddie Mercury vest and N'sir would be delighted. Marvin? Marvin would annoyed and R'sner? R'sner would just sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose. "That would be great," he admits in response to Kaetryn's offer. "Yasminath doesn't even blood though, so. Marvin /should/ be fine." Should be. Settling back in his chair to drink his klah, F'inn can't help chuckling, his head giving a wry shake. "You know," he asides to K'zre. "I should bring the twins up while he is visiting. They would love to play with a goat." If they can dress him up as well? Double bonus points.

Some lines do have to be drawn, and Aignes will throw a few out there. "It's summer. I don't think he's going to need a nose warmer." Jacket, hat and scarf are apparently all fine but a nosewarmer is just too over the top. And as for Kez's belief that Yasminath won't let the goat fall, she nods. "True. Czarduinath would probably dress him up and then find him so cute she could eat him." And then she would, but picking off the clothes first. And as for any eyeballing? She's just going to sit there innocently drinking her ice tea. Like she's been doing all along for the past five minutes when she finished eating the last of the cookies.

Marvin will probably endeavor to eat whatever clothing is put on him. Out of annoyance. And because he's a goat, and he eats everything. And while Kez might twitch an eyebrow (and definitely scowl) at the clothing that will undoubtedly find its way onto the goat while he is in their possession, he'll let it be. It's in the midst of licking frosting off his cupcake that he pauses to consider Kaetryn's offer. More specifically, that narrow-eyed gaze leveled his direction. A swipe of his tongue. A quick swallow, and he's shaking his head. "She's… she'll be fine." And he has one-hundred percent confidence of that. "Yasminath… she would never hurt him." It's still a struggle to get the green to hunt, too. "And she didn't even blood last time…" he murmurs, echoing F'inn's own observation. "I don't think she will this time, either." But Czarduinath? Threatening (however metaphorically) to eat him? That gets another look, and a murmured, "She's not allowed." To eat him, presumably. Mention of the twins has him once more pausing to eye F'inn skeptically. A moment. Two. And while he looks like he might way to say something (there's definitely that little suck of air that premediates speech), he appears to decide against it and just takes a bite of his cupcake instead.

Now isn't that an interesting idea? Rainbow chaps and a little fringed vest? Thankfully, Kaetryn is a little less meta than her player - although she's just strange enough that whatever wardrobe she comes up for him is likely to be equally… fabulous. "It won't always be summer," Kaet mutters sulkily, tossing Aignes a sad glance. "It never hurts to plan ahead." But FINE. Vest and chaps it is. Bouncing up from her chair, she pads swiftly across the room towards the tressle table, making up a plate of fruit before moving to plop herself at her clutchmates' table. "Cantelope?" she offers all around.

F'inn chuckles as he watches K'zre, his expression unconciously warming. "They love you and I know they miss you," he points out. "We'll be sure to have cupcakes on hand and the three of you will be fine." As long as there is sugar, everything is dandy. Taking another swallow of his klah, he groans as he stretches, his shoulders rolling before settling back into a comfortable slouch. "We should think about a vacation for end of summer," he suggests. "I wouldn't mind heading to some where we could get a bit of surfing in. Yes," F'inn states as he promptly leans across the table and snags a piece of fruit. "Cheers," is uttered as he pops it in his mouth.

"I know. And that's why we'll not be goatsitting," Aignes nods, not like anybody was asking her to sit the goat but just in case. Plus, she did enough mucking as a weyrling and has no desire to deal with that crap again. "Well, you can make it for him, but how often will the goat need to wear a nose warmer in Igen?" She then turns back to the twin conversation. "You could have them decorate their own cupcakes. They'd probably have a ball." And then back to Kaet and the cantelope. "Ooooh, yes. Oh, and does anybody want any tea?" She's sharing, even if there aren't exactly extra glasses…

A shake of K'zre's head for the cantaloupe. He's perfectly content with his cupcake (for now). He's polishing it off fairly quickly, too. And while there are more on his plate, a long look toward the sweets has him determinedly pushing them away from him. Away enough that getting them back will require effort. Or maybe it's the idea of the twins coming to visit that has put him off eating, the little shake of his head less dismissive and more… apprehensive. "I just… I don't know if now…" But whatever concerns Kez might have they go unspoken, his sentence remaining incomplete as it fades away. The mention of tea? That has him glancing briefly toward his untouched Klah (and the sweetener beside it), a moment or two of further consideration before he decides, "No… thank you."

"Igen? They live in Half Moon Bay," F'inn laughs. "Granted, N'sir is from Igen, wears those fabulous pants." Which reminds him that he wants to get a few pairs for K'zre. That," he adds in reference to the cupcake decorating. "Is a great idea, actually. Klah," he adds with a raise of his mug for a long swallow. "Hey," he murmurs to K'zre. "Then it can wait until after Yasminath rises. There's no rush." Particularly when he can go play with them in nursery any time he wants. "Speaking of which.. Their turnday is coming up," he points out with a glance to Aignes. "If I can get my hands on their dolls would you being to take a commission from me for frilly dresses and little hats?"

Eyeing F'inn thoughtfully, Kaetryn hands the plate out to everyone who indicates yes - lingering before Kez temptingly before withdrawing it to pick her own choices and plop them in her mouth. "Still, it doesn't get all that cold there. But you never know," she states stubbornly. "And it can actually get really cold in Igen at night, in the winter." Keroonese. She's familiar with the weather in that part of the world. "Maybe a muzzle warmer. Definitely a vest. Maybe some little shorts, with a cut out for the tail." Decked goat. Totally decked goat.

Aignes may have been wrong, but she'll just shake it off. "Igen… Half Moon… not like either really gets cold cold." Not like Fort cold. Or Farnath forbid High Reaches cold. A High Reaches goat would definitely need a nose warmer. But regardless, there is no way this goat is not going to be totally decked even if nose warmers aren't needed. As for the commission question, she nods. "I have a few patterns already made up. Was trying to design something new…" Back when she was proddy so it was a cross between something cozy and something OMG FRILLY. "Maybe it'll work for them."

Igen. Half Moon. Neither would be top of the list for winter-weather fun. Except it's currently snowing in Half Moon. Go figure. But K'zre does not know this, and so he cannot comment about whether or not Marvin needs a nose or muzzle warmer. If he has an opinion on shorts (with tail cut-outs!) and vests for herdbeasts, he doesn't voice it. No comment. Nope. Even if there's a particular look about him. Something caught between incredulous and disapproving. But there is a shallow nod of his head for F'inn, and something murmured quietly between them that is probably a thank you. "Their… Oh." Because the idea of getting the twins gifts clearly did not cross the greenrider's mind, and now he's looking somewhat mortified about it. Turndays. Just another thing that Kez is learning should be celebrated.

"That would be great," F'inn notes with a flashing smile. Course, his own birthday is coming up, but he's not saying anything about that. "I'll get the dolls from my mother and bring them to you." Glancing at K'zre, he leans in and bumps his shoulder. "Frilly dresses and hats, from the both of us, we're covered." Course, he'll mention the turnday party /after/ Yasminath goes up. Cause really? Somehow he can only imagine the proddy response to the thought of a toddler party.

Meanwhile, Kaetryn is happily planning an entire goat wardrobe in her head. Granted, he'll be here a week, and she's got juvenile delinquents to torture and incarcerate, other various misdemeanors to investigate, not to mention the oodles of paperwork that comes with being in the Policing half of Thunderbird - but she'll find the time to crochet SOME goat clothes, mark her words! Absently, she pops another slice of cantelope in her mouth, then holds the plate of melon pieces out to the table at large for another go around. "What twins?" Okay, she's very out of the loop here, people!

Let's get creative. Torturing juvenile deliquents could be forcing them to make the goat clothes. For… reasons! Aignes however has drank most of a pitcher of ice tea by herself this afternoon and well.. nature calls. "If you'll excuse me. F'inn, you know where to find me for the commission tomorrow? And Kaet, I'll find you tonight for the slippers." And as for poor proddy K'zre? She gives him a pat on the shoulder. "Hang in there." Because for now, she's out of here before she has to do something as undignified as the peepee dance.

Only if Kaet wants Marvin decked out in sub-par clothing! Or lime-green and fuchsia! Let's not forget the crimes for which those juveniles are being tortured! And while Marvin could probably totally rock a pair of fuchsia shorts… well. Do we wanna go there? (I DUNNO, MAYBE WE DO!). A sullen nod of K'zre's head for Aignes's words. He'll try. He's already trying — valiantly — to do just that. And he's been marginally successful. But there comes a point where Kez just… cannot 'people' any more. And he's just about reached it. So he's mute instead of contributing, gaze cast toward the mug of Klah he has yet to actually touch, expression drawn and edging toward strained. And he doesn't even KNOW about the toddler party yet!

"I do. Thanks, Aignes" F'inn states as he sets the mug down and pushes to his feet. "We should head back to the weyr to check on the goat," F'inn notes to K'zre. Course, he carefully wrapping up the pastries to bring along with them. "After Yas goes up," he notes to Kaet. "We'll make arrangements for tattoos?"

The mystery of the twins shall be left until another day, it seems. Not that Kaet is too het up over not being answered. She waves after Aignes before turning her attention bronzer-wards. "Yes," she agrees firmly, her eyes flickering thoughtfully to K'zre before she glances back to F'inn. "I want him in the right frame of mind before we decide on designs and parts and how best to convince him to join in." A sly grin is directed in the greenrider's direction, before she, too, stands and begins clearing her empty melon plate away. Alas. Time to go interrogate. With hot pokers. Or feathers. Something.

"I am right here," hisses K'zre, though it's more to himself than in outright rebuke of being spoken about as if he weren't present. But he's already pushing up, already making eyes toward the bowl even before F'inn is (no doubt) putting an arm around his shoulders and guiding him that way. "I am not getting a tattoo," is very firmly insisted upon, in the tones of one about to stomp his foot. And then they are gone, vanishing into the bowl.

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