8/6/2002

01:41 AM

Logfile from Briny.

 

ldic emblem of Monaco weyr, a stylized dolphin leaping on a field of blue and white.

Weyrhall - Monaco Weyr(#1290RFJM$)

   This Hall rises in two open levels. High above the structure's center, a broad-beamed ceiling supports the slate-shingled roof. Carved wood from four massive trees provide pillars that are both functional and decorative. Bounding the entire open chamber is an upper tier with wide stairs affording access from the lower level.

   The lower tier is arranged in grand style. Various tapestries adorn the lower walls, and tables, benches, and chairs are placed all about, allowing the entire Weyr's population to gather here. Built into the west wall, a large stone hearth houses a small fire that warms klah and some foods. Across the room, between the eastern pair of pillars, a large table stands laden with pitchers of juice and trays of food. Sitting next to the table are two casks of wine; one marked red, and stamped with a badge indicating it is from the vineyards of the North's Benden Hold, and the other, white with markings indicating origin in the newly-favored regions of the South upriver from the Paradise holding. Above the hearth is a large plaque upon which the symbol of Monaco Weyr, a particolored field of blue above white featuring a leaping dolphin, is emblazoned.

Contents:

Vasmar

T'gan

Tapestry: Nellanth's Clutch

Auntie Valera

Obvious exits:

Stairs  Kitchens  Terrace  Commons  Western Landing Field 

 

Vasmar grabs a pastry puff and nibbles on it. A pre-dinner sort of snack, holing the plate in his other hand, peering curiously at the weyrleader and his current state of booze induced 'bliss'

 

Threads of ebony have worked lose from the thick single braid and wing unfettered around hard, chiseled features. Steep brow, squared off chin, sharply rising cheekbones, and aquiline nose are carved into bone and muscle, baked golden-bronze by the sun. The young man appears to be in his late teens, his 5'10 frame conditioned to a fine, sharp edge. Long, lean muscles cord around the bones tightly, not bulky but with the absence of body fat they're more pronounced under the dark, smooth flesh. He moves with an elegant, cat-like grace and speed, nearly soundless as he pads lightly to and fro. In contrast to his bronzed flesh his eyes seem to have the color leached from them. Ghostly silver rings the translucent green of his irises, their pale mint surfaces flecked with gold, like sunstruck sand. Despite the blade-like construction of his body his features are filled with warmth and easy going friendliness.

He is dressed lightly, the cloth loose around his body yet not so flowing as to impair his movement. The bright emerald tunic is belted over tan breeches. Thick sandals encase his feet, keeping them safe from harm.

 

"Brandy," T'gan confirms, with a nod so measured that it can't be wholly sober. "I found it in my weyr, left over from my graduation, I think, and it called out to be drunk."

 

Vasmar winks an aside to Rosie who is attempting to get him to decide on a dish. he pops the rest of the pastery into his mouth and grins at T'gan, "not much fun to drink alone however."

Briny patters into the hall, a smudge of what could very well be mud gracing one cheek, not at all displacing the slight flush to her skin. The strap of her flaccid message pack falls from her shoulder to hook at her elbow as the girl flops negligently into the first chair she comes across.

 

"Oh, it can be," T'gan assures, and settles a loving smile on the half-empty bottl

8/6/2002

01:41 AM

Logfile from Briny.

 

ldic emblem of Monaco weyr, a stylized dolphin leaping on a field of blue and white.

Weyrhall - Monaco Weyr(#1290RFJM$)

   This Hall rises in two open levels. High above the structure's center, a broad-beamed

8/6/2002

01:41 AM

Logfile from Briny.

 

ldic emblem of Monaco weyr, a stylized dolphin leaping on a field of blue and white.

Weyrhall - Monaco Weyr(#1290RFJM$)

   This Hall rises in two open levels. High above the structure's center, a broad-beamed riny's nose twitches, the back of her hand lifting up to rub at the very tip, and from there feeling the dried mud. "Ohhh, for the love of little green redfruit...," he murmurs, fingernail scratching to flake off the dirt. As Vasmar looks her way, the teenager lifts her chin to blink owlishly at him, hesitantly combing fingers back through her hair in some attempt to bring it back to rights. Lips draw into a curious line for a moment.

 

T'gan stares hard at Vasmar for a moment or two before shrugging his shoulders and supposing, "Either?" And then, then he's trying to focus on Briny, too. "Hi, there."

 

Vasmar's smile is more relaxed and lucid as he grins back at Briny and then saunters by her and her wild hair. He answers T'gan, "Well, I have drank alone and I dislike it in grand amounts. Or rather I dislike the effects leftover the next morning from such drinking. The brandy here, however, I adore. But wine is much safer." He draws in a breath, "Mind if I join you?" Asked of the Weyrleader, though he glances back at Briny in curious interest.

 

T'gan looks to his left, then his right, and once again shrugs his shoulders. "There are chairs," he points out, with that same silly smile. "Sure, Vasmar. Sit, if you want. And -- and you, too, if you like. It's a little warmer near the hearth, though if you've been out all day you might rather stay near the door, and the breeze."

 

Briny keeps getting looked at, or maybe... She shifts in her seat to look over her shoulder and spy absolutely nobody. No, must be her. Pale lashes brush her cheeks now and again with all the blinks provoked, "I... I... What/ever/ are you two looking at? I haven't suddenly turned into a canine or something?" She narrows a glance to T'gan, gaze thoughtful and thoroughly lost, if that can be managed.

 

Vasmar motions with his wine glass even as he eases into a chair, "i was looking at your hair." He admits candidly and then sets his plate down with a soft clatter. "I can't say as I was 'staring' however. Though I could if requested." He pins the girl with squinted eyes for a moment.

 

"Was I staring?" T'gan seems horrified, for all that he's glassy-eyed with drink. "I'm... very sorry. You don't look like a canine, no, of course not."

 

Briny's fingers dart up to rake through her curls once more at Vasmar's words, and then finishing with some patting here and there. "Staring?" she echoes, watching Vasmar with the very same intensity, clearly mimicked. But, she can't seem to hold it long, especially with the corner of her lips twitching like that, upon the brink of having an amused grin dominate her features. Her next words are for T'gan, "Never said staring. Just looking. Staring would be what this /one/," wave towards Vasmar, "is doing right now. Or maybe it is a leer. I'm not real sure."

 

T'gan turns his attention back onto Vasmar, and inquires, "Were you... *leering*?" He fumbles with the cork on his bottle, now, and pours himself another finger of the stuff. "That's so unseemly."

 

Vasmar grins and leans back into his chair, moving his eyes to his plate with far more hunger and interest as he pokes it with his fork, "Hhhmmm, I save my leering for special occations. Honestly, she's far too young to be leered at." As though he's only a handful of turns older, it seems to matter to the young man.

 

Briny finally manages to drag her attention away from Vasmar to peer almost haughtily at T'gan, "Just as unseemly as a rider that drinks like a bordo and doesn't invite the path-weary messenger girl for a bit of a fortifying drink." Her features twist into something of annoyance, giving Vasmar a look that would be better suited to a herder that is judging up the qualities of a runner, and finding the beast wanting. "Uh-huh," she drawls slowly.

 

Vasmar chuckles as he catches Briny's glance and looks down at himself to see if he slopped any of his wherry down his front. "You're a messender here? I used to do that back home. Before I hurt my leg." He wrinkles uo his nose and then takes another bite of food. Mmming around it happily.

 

"Rude of me," T'gan concedes, and in lieu of another available glass, offers Briny the bottle of brandy itself. "Aunt taught me better manners than this. Messenger, huh?"

 

Briny stretches out her legs before her at mention of Vasmar's injury, flickering a glance from his to hers and back again. At the sight of the mud splatters upon her well cared-for boots, she scowls slightly, before flickering a glance back to the ex-messenger, "Oh, that's too bad. What do you do now then?" Still partially leaned forward, she flickers a glance through lashes towards T'gan, smile resurfacing only to ghost slightly. "Not so rude, just distracted by my sparkling personality." Or something. She leans back once more, only to reach towards the bottle, wrapping long fingers about it. "Yes. Messenger. I get around."

 

"How far?" wonders T'gan, and half-turns his chair as he grimaces down another swallow of his own drink; half-turns his chair to permit Briny access to the hearth's warmth.

 

Vasmar finishes his mouthfull of food, "As little as possable." He grins and watches the exchange of the brandy with interest as he spears another cube of meat with his fork.

 

Briny considers the bottle for a moment, takes an experimental sniff of the contents, and then without further ado, the teenager lifts the bottle to her lips and tilts her head back for a drink. Not long or anything, just a drink. The back of her hand wipes across her lips before the bottle is handed back. She shoots Vasmar a knowing grin, but refrains from further commentary.

 

T'gan's been drinking a rather quality brandy, which perhaps explains why he's as well-lubricated as he seems; whether the drink's palatable to Briny is anybody's guess.

 

Vasmar takes another large bite of his food and chews it thoughtfully. When his mouth is clear he asks, "Anything interesting going on in the world beyond Monacho?" He takes a drink from his wine, content in the 'softer' drink for the evening.

 

Briny has downed everything from the basest quikal to the finest of Benden in her day, and so some brandy care of T'gan isn't about to phase her any. "How far? Well, seeing as I don't know the area that much, I've only pretty much well stuck to the vicinity. But as I get more experience, I figure I could go just about anywhere." She licks her lips, glancing over to Vasmar, and then T'gan once more. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of your names, gentlemen..."

 

"Teague," says T'gan, first; then amends, "T'gan. Coluth's rider." Then adds, further, "Weyrleader." As disjointed as all of this is, it appears to make some sense to him, as he rewards himself with another swallow of brandy.

 

Vasmar coughs into his hand at that eliquent introduction from the weyrleadership and then nods his head sagely, "Couldn't have said it better myself." Then he grins at Briny, "I'm Vasmar. Weyr resident and provider of relaxing massage." He chuckles softly as a few men from a nearby table, obviously--or hopefully at least-- his friends, groan and roll their eyes. Vasmar ignores them and sips his drink.

 

Briny smiles softly over to T'van, "Well met, weyrleader sir." As she watches take another drink from the bottle, fingers waggle in a rather obvious, if silent request for him to return the bottle to her for a moment. Her gaze flickers back to Vasmar, "Massage? Truly? I've got the worst knot right back... here." Her hand reaches around to rub at the small of her back lightly. She shoots a speculative glance at the snickering group before looking back to the pair, "Briny... just, Briny."

 

"Welcome to Monaco, just Briny," chuckles T'gan; he's happy to proffer over the bottle, as he's still working on a glass of the brandy. "Massages, Vasmar? Didn't know that about you?"

 

Vasmar's eyes just shift slightly towards his friends and he grins at him, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth....he wasn't asking them anyway. "Running will do that to you." He swirls the wine around in his glass, "Nice to meet you Briny with the sore back." He nods to T'gan, "I've been working on learning since I got here. Seems like lots of people need that sort of relaxing touch with all the stress that goes with weyrlife.:

 

Briny shoots a wry grin at T'gan, lips turning into a fine line. "Well, thank you for the welcome." Brandy bottle is taken once again, along with another sip of the contents before it is placed back upon the table. And then Vasmar is receives the very same wry glance that was just offered to T'gan. "So you get a lot of customers for that sort of thing?"

 

T'gan nods at Vasmar, and supposes, "With all the retirees, especially, I can understand." As he's slowed his pace through the bottle, sobriety appears to be returning to him... a bit at a time. "Good question, Briny. Are there a lot of people who know of your talents, Vasmar?"

 

Vasmar thinks about it as he pushes his now cleaned dinner plate away from him, "Well, I've been getting more requests I'm able to fill now that I'm not tied down to helping the steward. Usually after threadfall is the worst I've noticed." he chuckles and shrugs, "Ah, there are a handful of people. I think most are a little uncertain about asking for a backrub from someone they don't know. But it fills my spare time nicely."

 

Briny ponders this, fingers drumming a rough tattoo upon the surface of the table. "I suppose you just need to make yourself a bit more friendly to the residents is all. And you seem like the friendly type to me, Vasmar. That and word of mouth... people will trust you if they hear good things from the others you've already layed hands upon."

 

"Well, Vasmar," T'gan mentions, quieter. "Now that you've said something in the weyrhall, it'll only be a matter of time before Valera makes sure everybody knows." He nods both Vasmar and Briny toward the old nanny.

 

Vasmar nods his head, smiling at Briny, "True enough. It's something I enjoy doing so who knows, I wouldn't mind if more people knew." though he does give the aunty and uncertain glance, "I think she needs a good backrub myself. Might make her smile a little more than usual if you ask me."

 

Briny, having absolutely no interaction with this nanny spoken of, looks blankly at the pair. Fingers twiddle for a moment before she takes another sip of the brandy before finally handing it back to T'gan. "Well, seeing as I tend to get around, I'll be sure to spread the word as well. Won't hurt none, if I say something, I don't suppose."

 

T'gan freshens his glass once the brandy's back in his possession, and then, with a wistful kind of sigh, sets the bottle down beside his chair. "Will you be staying at Monaco long, Briny, do you think?"

 

Vasmar gives Briny a puzzled look and then nods, "That's a good idea." He looks about to say something more when T'gan asks his question and he falls silent, taking a sip of his wine.

 

Briny watches T'gan's movements with wry amusement, before her shoulders shrug negligently, "I really don't know. I suppose 'til I get kicked out, or whatever..." The ghost of a grin becomes something a bit more substantial as she looks back over to Vasmar, nodding her head in affirmation. "I haven't got that much in the way of plans, really. I'm just... well, loose that way, I suppose."

 

Purse-lipped, now, T'gan downs another swallow of liquor, and supposes, "We've probably got room for you, Briny, if you want to stay a while. I can send Auril your way in the morning -- she's our Headwoman, and she can get you straightened out in a cot or something. In the meantime, there's... a couple of guest weyrs that you could catch some rest in."

 

Vasmar takes another sip from his wine, allowing his gaze to travel from rider to messenger as each one speaks. After a moment he gets up quietly and wanders in the direction of the serving table. When there's a break in the conversation he asks, "you two want something for desert?"

Briny's attention seems to be afforded to the hearth for a moment, before she blinks back to T'gan. "Oh! I'm already a member of your Weyr here, sir. Got the knot and everything." Even if she seems to have misplaced it at the moment. "The guess weyrs?" she echoes, tapping one long finger to her chin. "I might have to bungle my way round 'til I find one of those, or just make myself at home in someone else's weyr 'til they too kick me out." For a moment there, there is an almost puckish gleam to her eye, before it is blinked away at Vasmar's query, "Ohhh, something sweet and creamy, if you will?" And she shoots up to her feet, intent to join him the the pursual of deserts, weaving through the tables with fingers that idly brush the surface of each one she passes by 'til arriving at the serving table as well.

 

"I don't think dessert'll sit well with me, right now, Vasmar," T'gan grimaces, and rises -- albeit a bit unsteadily, after throwing back what's left in his glass. "In fact, only thing that'll sit well with me is bed, so's I can get a little sleep before I've got to be up for drills. Briny, was nice to have met you -- should I leave this?" He indicates the bottle with a flippant gesture.

 

Vasmar note to Briny, "looks as though there's only Fried bananas this evening. But it looks good." He leans forward after grinning at Rosie and has a look at what she's offering. "Who's going to kick you out of their weyr?" He squints at the messenger, as though he missed part of that conversation. To T'gan he grins, "If you need a massage for that hangover in the morning, I'll be in the kitchen the early part of the day I'm sure."

 

Briny glances over her shoulder at T'gan, "Ohhh, no. Please, take it with you. If I drink any more, someone will have to pick me up off the floor, and that won't go well at all." She flashes the weyrleader a quick grin, "It was a delight to meet you as well, sir. Have a good evening." She looks back to Vasmar, wrinkling her nose at the mention of the bananas, but then shrugging her shoulders. "I suppose I could have some." And as for that other comment, "Nobody, I hope. But there is always a first time." *smile*

 

T'gan cocks his head slightly; wonders, "Are massages good hangover cures?" as he stoops to retrieve the bottle. "No sir'ing," he does add, sing-song, as he goes. "G'night, both of you."

From afar, to Briny and Vasmar, T'gan thanks you both very much for the RP. Had fun. :)

 

T'gan walks off southwards to the wide green commons outside.

T'gan has left.

 

Vasmar laughs quietly at Briny's remark after waving goodnight to T'gan, not answering him. "Rosie my dear, two of those lovely deserts if you please." He grins at Briny, "I imagine you'd be quite at home in any number of cozy weyrs around Monaco. The people here are friendly and eager to make people feel at home."

 

Briny reaches for a plate of the desert as it is handed out to her, smiling happily onto Rosie. Spork prods at the desert for a moment before she flickers a glance askance to Vasmar though her lashes, grin amused, very amused, "Oh, absolutely. Such a bunch of friendly folks just salivating at the chance for little ol' me to make myself right at home." Her grin grows for a moment, "Ah well, I suppose my hammock will have to do 'til I take over someone else's place."

 

Vasmar smirks and then laughs aloud as he turns to head back towards their previous seating area, "why on earth would you want to take someone else's place? That's just a silly idea." It takes a moment to still his chuckles and his eyes twinkle with mirth. "You want to eat this in here or enjoy some fresh air?

 

Briny holds her plate for a moment in decision, "Because that is just how I am. I look all sweet an innocent, but don't let the curls fool you. I can infest a place faster than 'snakes if you let me in." She glances back to him, toothy smile flashing. "As in out in the elements with the vtols and wild whersports? Sure. Anywhere in particular you know? For a messenger, I'm real good at getting lost, but getting better."

 

Vasmar ohs and winces slightly before looking the girl up and down warily, "I'm not sure I like the sound of 'infesting'. I like to keep squeaky clean myself." He starts for the door. "There's a few nice places out by the water. Keeps cooler than in here and the view is a whole lot better."

 

Briny chuckles lightly, following after him, "Well, don't look at me as if I'm some slimy tunnelsnake." Never mind the slight splatter of mud on her boots or the residual remains of that smudge that was on her cheek. "When I say infest, I mean... what is yours is mine. I like to make myself at home, once invited. Access to it all." She looks thoughtful for a moment after her idle banter, before moving as if to nudge him forth, "Show me."

 

Vasmar pauses by the doorway but then decides against making a moment. Instead he simply looks amused as he edges out, leading the way.

 

Vasmar walks off southwards to the wide green commons outside.

Vasmar has left.

 

Eastern Landing Field - Monaco Weyr(#345RFJLa$)

  This huge square of hardpacked dirt stretches for dragonlengths between the sylvan boundaries on three sides: the trees muffle the noise of the Weyr's comings and goings, from casual arrivals to harried departures. The fourth, western side, lays open to the river and the bridge arching over the rushing waters. Oaks and rowans give way to a low metal-roofed building -- the infirmary -- at the southwestern corner of the landing area, with ground weyrs dotting the land hidden behind the whispering foliage to the north and east.

Contents:

Vasmar

Obvious exits:

Stone Bridge  INFirmary  Waterfall Pool  Feeding Grounds  Jungle Path  Guest Weyr  Beach  NOrthern Weyrs  Eastern Weyrs 

 

Vasmar pauses here, "Well, we can go to the waterfall, or the pool there or the jungle. Whichever way you'd like."

 

Briny contemplates

8/6/2002

01:41 AM

Logfile from Briny.

 

ldic emblem of Monaco weyr, a stylized dolphin leaping on a field of blue and white.

Weyrhall - Monaco Weyr(#1290RFJM$)

   This Hall rises in two open levels. High above the structure's center, a broad-beamed

8/6/2002

01:41 AM

Logfile from Briny.

 

ldic emblem of Monaco weyr, a stylized dolphin leaping on a field of blue and white.

Weyrhall - Monaco Weyr(#1290RFJM$)

   This Hall rises in two open levels. High above the structure's center, a broad-beamed    This pool is very deep, and likely could hold a smaller dragon comfortably. From nearly 300 feet above, the Monaco River splits and thunders down into two faultline-weakened channels. The water spills over into a single lower pool and remains fairly deep all the way to the ocean, with high tide waters affecting the flow this far upstream on some occasions. When humans swim here, dolphins will occasionally join them, especially if the high tide has lent some increased salinity to these waters.

Contents:

Vasmar

Obvious exits:

Downstream  Eastern Landing Field 

 

Vasmar edges along the shore until he finds a spot that's nice and comfortable looking on the shore. "How long have you been here did you say?"

 

Briny trails in dutifully after Vasmar. As she gapes at the scene displayed before her, she manages to balance her plate just right as they descend into the waterfall area. "Ohhh, a handful of days, I suppose. I haven't really kept that close of track, really." She drops down to sit with crossed legs, plate in her lap. "How about you? You mentioned not being all that well known around here, I believe...?"

 

Vasmar settles down himself, arranging his long legs under him to get more comfortable before lounging back lazily. "I was 18 turns when I first arrived and my 22nd turnday wasn't that long ago. So, I've been here for awhile. I helped the stward for awhile but I wasn't doing a very good job of it so they replaced me. Now I help out in the kitchens." The smirk he wears speaks of him doing more harm then good there. "And the massage thing is just a part time interest."

 

Briny delves her spork into the bananas, cutting some of the pieces up before taking a bite of the desert. She chews slowly, listening to him, even if her gaze has drifted over to watch the play of the water. "Ohhh, that is a pretty good amount of time though. Far more than a couple of days." She glances back to him, smiling. "Kitchen helper slash masseuse. You don't find one of those every day."

 

Vasmar takes a bite of his desert as he makes himself comfortable. At length he responds with good humor, "I like to think I'm an unusual character." His gaze drifts to the spray of water and then wanders back to Briny, "It's a lot more fun doing what I do now than being an assistant steward. All work, no play. Ick!"

 

Briny chuckles softly, "Having never quite had the distinct pleasure of working under a Steward in that way, I'll have to take your word for it. And if you don't enjoy what you do, there really isn't any point in doing it... I suppose that is why I'm here now. New place. New experience. New adventures... oh, /please/ say that Monaco has its adventures and pleasures, otherwise I fear I'll get bored quick here, and it seems so nice at first blush."

 

Vasmar shrugs up his shoulders, "it all depends on what you find pleasurable and adventurious. There's threadfall and flights and hatchings and all sorts of everyday drama like that. People are much more....open than at the hold and hall. I'm not sure where you were before but I came from the weaverhall and, this was quite a different turn for me. I enjoy it a great deal. Always something different."

 

Briny twiddles her fingers. She leans towards him and whispers in a conspirational tone, even if unnecessary. "Just 'bout every Weyr is like that, but..." And she leans back, "But, I suppose Monaco has this whole Southern continent thing going for it. That is /definitely/ new and exciting." Her eyes seem to glitter with a light that has nothing to do with the heavens at the moment. "Directly? I came from a seacrafting ship that needed some deckhands -it was a great way to 'pay' for my passage here. And before that I was a hall server in Big Bay Hold, I think." All her past jobs seem to merge into one another after a bit. She turns an interested glance to him, "'Rents were weavers?"

 

Vasmar lifts a finger in Briny's direction, "IT's /warm/ here though and that's better than a lot of those =other= weyrs." He winks and adds, "I haven't stayed long enough at another weyr to see how they are to compair." Under his breath he 'mmms' at her words and nods his head, "Sounds as though you had a hand in a great many things. I would like to learn how to sail. Noone around is too keen to teach me. Or i'm too lazy to activly follow up with it." He nods again at her question, "Parents, brothers, grand-parents. The whole family."

 

Briny's smile breaks out once more, "Oh, don't get me wrong, I can't sail. I just pull on whatever line they tell me to pull on, and spent more time on my hands and knees than upright. You'd be surprised how well acquainted one can get with the deck in the amount of time it takes to move from Big Bay to here." She licks her lips before eating some more of the desert, "Yes, warm. Warm is very nice. But, see, I grew up in the Boll area..." Yes, she very well knows that most Weavers come from that area, "and I am very appreciative to this climate. It suits me just perfect." A breath before she reaches over with her free hand to play with the lush grass, fingers weaving in the blades. "My, you come from quite the weaving lineage, and you didn't wish to follow in the footsteps of the rest?"

 

Vasmar, to his credit, doesn't laught outright. Only his eyes twinkle with merriment to her question and his shoulders hedge up a little, "oh, I'm not really interested in weaving at all. Running was my passion and would be still if I hadn't hurt myself." He doesn't seem overly bothered by that, or at least has come to grips enough not to wear his heart on his sleeve about it. "Boll is nice. We're not from that area of course, we're the southern weavers-- my family anyway. Did you have an itch to see the world and so you set out on your own?"

 

Briny sets the plate to the side, allowing any passing VTOL to come by and have a meal upon the remains of the bananas. "Running, that is one thing I've never done. My legs aren't near as long for it, that and I do tend to get distracted. Galloping up and down the same trail all the time to get to one place as quickly as possible. That isn't for me. I'd probably take a 'short cut' into some grotto and end up half-way to Nabol, when I'm supposed to be in Keroon. Wanderlust, I think it is called. I just go wherever the chance takes me. I suppose I'm whimsical and impulsive that way." Again, she shrugs her shoulders rather negligently, acceptant of her ways, knowing them well, and not about to change them. "Mind if I ask what happened to cause your hurt?"

 

Vasmar shakes his head slowly, "remind me not to send you to deliver any important messenges I might have." He winks to show he's teasing and takes the last bite of his desert before setting the plate down by his feet. As he sprawls onto his back he thinks about the question and then answers, "I got bowled over by a runner trying to save a little girl from hurting herself." He shrugs slightly, as though he's not given it much thought for awhile.

 

Briny's smile actually goes wolfish as she drawls, "Give me a nice enough tip to keep my mind off any other paths, and I'll make sure to take it to the person intended right away." She watches him silently for a moment as the explanation is given, nodding quietly in acknowledgement. "And now, instead of using your legs, you use your hands."

Dump complete, resuming game.

 

Vasmar taps his toes back and forth at the sky as he peers up and chuckles, "I'll make sure to make it worth your while to not make a missed dilvery, that's for sure. Perhaps a nice footrub upon a safe return--something like that. I don't have enough marks to blink at." He rolls onto his side, "And yup, that's about it. Healers said that if I insisted on keeping up my activities I'd end up a cripple as an old man. I'm not sure I could handle that, so I take life a little slower now. Sometimes not an easy thing to do."

 

Briny watches him thoughtfully, "Slower never has to mean more dull. After all, if you rush along the path, you see nothing but a blur, but... if you take it at a more drawn pace, you get to see that nested flizen over there, or the glitter-carapace of the trundlebug on the leaf." A breath, two, three, and then the girl actually breaks out into her first honest laughter, nearly musical as it rises up and down the scale. "Listen to me. I'm going to sound like some old auntie before I reach my twenties." She flashes him a warm and inviting smile, "And a footrub would sound simply divine." Even if she is wearing her boots, her toes wiggle at such a possibility.

 

Vasmar stretches out his own boot clad foot and tries to nudge Briny's lightly as she laughs, "Goodness, you've got an understanding of the slow pace. It's easy to talk about and think about, but watching the grass grow isn't the same as feeling the wind rushing through your hair while you're running. Feeling like you're really using your body instead of just shuffling around." He nods at the water, "But swimming...is a good alternitive."

 

Briny's shoulder quite visibly slump with a sigh, "Ah, but either way you can have fun, and /that/ is the most important. Fun." She taps her fingers upon the turf for a moment, before another sigh takes her form, and she practically collapses onto the ground. "Swimming sounds marvelous, but I think I've dawdled long enough, or my words from before really will be prophetic and I will get kicked out." Her head lolls to the side to regard him, "I've a couple more message runs to do. Maybe another time?"

 

Vasmar sighs, looking oh so forlorn at having his company about to abandon him. "Completely understandable. There'll be other times. So long as you don't get tossed out." He winks and sits up, reaching for his plate. "I should go take these in and give Rosie a bad time before sneaking off to my cot."

 

Briny is only laying upon the ground for a moment before she is pushing herself up and climbing to her feet. Fingers interlace and then she reaches up to the sky, lifting to the toes of her boots with a stretch. "Oooohhhh. It really was a pleasure to meet you Vasmar. I'm sure our paths will cross again." A wink and with that, leaving her plate behind, the girl takes to her heels and lopes off back in the direction they originally came.