Wednesday, February 13, 2002

 

Main Living Cavern (#551J)

Grey stone arches a vast vault overhead, details of the ceiling all but disappearing in the shadows cast by warm, human-height glowsconces and the night hearth's flames; tapestries texture the smooth walls, looking down upon the raised dais, the expanse of tables, the flagstones left cleared for impromptu dancing.

A single broad archway, its carved pattern worn soft with time and passersby's touch, leads west into the bowl; two more, narrower but just as tall, give access to the bustle of living caverns in the south. Predominant looms the builders' masterpiece: the imposing staircase that twines up along the northern wall, leading to the weyr's huge kitchens.

Vintner Harry busies himself behind the 'bar'; nearby hangs the day's 'menu'.

You see Sinaqui and Veran here.

K'rali is here.

Obvious exits:

Bowl       Lower Caverns       Stairs       Weyr Tunnel

 

K'rali strolls, sashays, whatever-you-like, but she won't walk in any ordinary way.  And there's no K'rali-way either, because it changes every day.  "Wingleader?" she calls from across the cavern, weaving her way through tables and chairs.  "Oh, Wingleader mine..." A Sentinel brownrider, leaning back in his chair, gives his eyes an elaborate roll;  K'rali sweetly kicks the leg of his chair just hard enough to put him in peril of falling to the floor.

 

K'rill is just emerging from the shadows of the lower caverns, a most perplexed look to his face as he brandishes a mug of some liquid or another before him. He makes it two steps in before he hears his voice, spoken by that notable voice. And so there he stands in mid-step, peering at her, "Yes?"

 

K'rali is all angelic innocence.  "I was wondering if you took care of that little thing we talked about."  Bluerider beams luminously at K'rill, hands clasped, just short of a coo.

 

K'rill blinks benignly onto K'rali as he is approached by her. So, there he stands, sipping at his mystery beverage, quietly considering her. Hrm... how best to go about this? "Uhh. No?" Should he duck and run now?

 

K'rali's a little to quick for that move.  Try the pick and roll instead.  "Why not?"  That's genuine puzzlement.  "I mean, it's not too tall an order for you, right?"  Or anybody for that matter.

 

K'rill eases to the side, moving towards a table to pull out a chair for her. A hand sweeps down, indicating for her to sit, if she so will. "Refresh my memory, K'rali. You know how slow some of us bronzers can be... what exactly do you want me to do?"

 

K'rali does so will, and sinks into the chair with her gaze trained trustingly on K'rill.  "Well, I want a boy.  We talked about this, remember?  I /really/ want a boy."  Blink, blink, blink go widened green eyes.  "And you did say that you'd be there for me if I needed anything."

 

K'rill continues to stand there, fingers wrapped about the back of the chair. He leans forward, speaking just over K'rali's shoulder. "Unfortunately, K'rali... the deed has already been done. But, if the child ends up being a girl, I'd be more than happy to try again for a boy?" Bronzer, ayep.

 

K'rali is straight-up shocked.  It takes a moment for her to find words.  "You--you won't do this for me?  This little favor?  I know you can just pull a few strings...Talk to Tarin!  That's it.  Tarin can do it, right?"  Open mouth, insert foot--not that she realizes it.  "Or better yet, Gretchen."  Oy.  "Or Zephre or somebody."

 

K'rill blinks, and then blinks again. And then blinks a third time for good measure. Sweet Faranth! Eh? And so, bronzer releases the chair, coming around to take a seat beside her, turning it towards the woman. "How... how would you ask me to do such a thing, K'rali?" Suggestions would be nice, if only for the amusement factor.

 

"Well," K'rali tells him, eyes widening for dramatic effect, hands lifting to trace strange runes in the air, "I already did.  Don't you remember?  I walked up to you and said, 'K'rill, I want a boy.'  And that's how I would ask--or did ask, actually."  There's that smile again.

 

K'rill eyes the exit. Would she give chase if he were to bolt now? Nah, good think K'rill is a nice guy or something. "K'rali?... I'd be more than happy to give you a boy. I'd move the heavens and the earth to cause it to happen..." And then,"... but, I think that is something that is a little bit out of my realm of influence. Its all chance, dear."

 

K'rali plunges onward.  "Well, y'know, if you don't think that Tarin would do you a bit of a favor when in crisis, there's an alternative.  You can just /tell/ it.  I mean, you're supposed to wield a certain amount of influence, so you just tell it to be a boy."  Serenely, the bluerider rests a hand on her not-yet-rounded stomach.

 

K'rill peers at K'rali, then peers in the direction of her tummy. Pale eyebrows jack up to his hairline. "You... you can't be serious? You want me to order... you want me to talk to your...?" Aye, rendered a bit speechless at that concept.

 

K'rali grows a little severe now.  "C'mon, K'rill, you do it every day.  Just to a different person this time, that's all."  Suck it up, ya big baby.

 

The things he does for the women in his life.... Gee, just how wrapped about someone's finger is he? K'rill suffers K'rali with quite the unamused glance, "What? Here?"

 

K'rali isn't amused either--this is /business/, not pleasure, though failure may very well affect her pleasure in the future.  "Here.  Now.  C'mon, then, let's get started."  She'll even push back from the table a little, see?  It's easier to get at the bebbe that way.

 

K'rill glances about the caverns, before dropping to his knees. Sweet Faranth.

Sweet, darling, fardling Faranth. WingLeader is on his knees in the caverns for all and sundry to witness. A hand moves as if to rest on her knee as he mutters, "You really want for me to do this? You think it might just help?"

 

K'rali doesn't bother lowering her voice.  "Oh, yes, I'm sure it will work.  Only, maybe you shouldn't kneel--you look like you're proposing to me."  She smiles down at him, unaware of the sniggers from nearby Sirocco riders. 

 

K'rill glances back up to the wingriders, not quite glowering... but instead a rather smug grin touches his features now. "Feeling a mite jealous about now, mates?" Yeah, he was the one who got her in this condition, and the male pride shows. And so, his next words are directed at K'rali's tummy, "You here that, littling? Your mother wishes for a boy."

 

This room transmits to FortLC channel, which is currently listened by K'rill.

"Mulligan," K'rali tells him, her face alight with maternal joy.  "His name is Mulligan.  Well, go on, tell him more."

 

"You hear that, Mull- What?" K'rill sits back on his heels, peering up to K'rali, "Ohhhh no. I won't be the father of a child whose name is Mulligan.

No Mulligan. Doesn't even sound like me."

 

The joy dissolves.  The gaze hardens to granite.  "Well, it's not /supposed/ to.  /I'm/ the mommy, which makes it /my/ child.  It's supposed to sound like /me/."  The severity melts as K'rali's eyes glaze over, back in that happy dream.  "Mulligan, Kalrania, Mulligan, Kalrania..."  Yeah, a definite resemblance.

 

K'rill continues to gape up at her, "What?... What?" Astonishment continues to blaze in the depths of his eyes. "Kalrania and Korrill... not Mulligan. They don't even sound the same." And so, he pushes to his feet, but not before shouting at her belly. "Go ahead, do what you will child... be a girl." If only not to be named Mulligan.

 

K'rali gasps the gasp of one who's been mortally insulted, forcefully shoving her chair back as she also rises to her feet.  "What?  Don't /say/ that, he'll /hear/ you!" ex-harper warns, but the damage has been done.  She draws herself up to her full height, smoldering, hands splayed protectively over her stomach.  "You--you--"  Veran wanders near, gazing up at her with wide eyes.  K'rali visibly chokes on her words and takes a moment to hastily amend them.  "You /Wingleader/!" she hisses.  Now there's an insult to be heard 'round the Weyr.

 

K'rill erupts to his feet as well, knocking over the chair we was sitting in just a moment ago with a resounding crash. "I'll be sent between before any child of mine is called /Mulligan/! Mark my words, K'rali!" He would roar some more, but then Varen shows... and he holds his tongue as well. Wingleader eh? And he leaps upon that, "Exactly! And as your Wingleader I order you /not/ to name our child's name... Mulligan." Hah. Take that.

 

Furiously, K'rali glares at Veran and points a finger towards the Kitchens.  She repeats the gesture twice before the child toddles off.  "I /refuse/," she cries defiantly, shaking an irritating curl out of her face.  "And I'll go ::between:: before our child's name is anything else."  Civil disobedience, that's K'rali's motto.

 

Milligan enters from the Bowl.

 

K'rill takes a long step up to her as Veran leaves, "Ohhh! But that's just it, you /can't/ go between. And if I have to I'll not only ground you, but move you into my weyr to teach you the error of /Mulligan/'s ways." He nearly growls, "I'll show you the glory of the merging of our names, and what grand sounds they can produce."

 

Milligan slides in with a gracious stride. He whistles slightly. Not uncertain, just not loud. "Eh? Is that MY name I hear mispronounced?"

 

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"  K'rali flares.  She wouldn't do anything so childish as stamp her foot, but she's tempted.  "Me in your weyr, eh?  Well, I say no!  And I also say Mulligan, Mulligan, Mull--"  Milligan's entrance stops her in her tracks, and she swivels his way.  A moment before realization arrives.  "A real live Mulligan!" bluerider breathes.  "And a /harper/.  It's our baby's namesake, K'rill, it is." 

 

Milligan

Head tosses restlessly, as if still carrying the dark brown hair long. Such twitches are no longer necessary to reveal his eyes, an empty pale blue leeched to a hollow gray. Instead the head is shorn to mere stubble. Hands are also constantly moving, usually clasping or clenching at nothing.

There is a starkly simple harper's journeyman knot adorning one shoulder.

A smooth unadorned charcoal tunic drapes with such perfection to imply exquisite tailoring. The rainwashed blue of his trous show best on his lithe legs during his habitual rapid strides. There is little casual about how he wears these simple clothes, instead their subdued tones hint at a fading strength in their struggle to contain the harper's boundless energy.

Milligan is 43 Turns, 8 months, and 27 days old.

He is awake, but has been staring off into space for 3 minutes.

Carrying:

Shoulder slung Gitar

Milligan's Songbook

 

K'rill groans under his breath, shooting a glance over to the entering harper with quite the smoldering glance. "What the fard-" *throat clearing* A glare is flashed at K'rali before he tensely inclines his head to Milligan, "My duties, sir...." And then a lowered mutter to K'rali, "I don't /think/ so."

 

Milligan manages to raise a single eyebrow. Quite high. "I must say I can't place the accent, but do try a bit harder. Eh. Eh. Not -Uhl. Higher in the throat, you see. And I'm so glad you were able to place me as a harper so quickly. It is a testiment to your teachers." Dropping his voice as if talking to himself he adds, "One I'll be certain to look up."

 

K'rali, in marked contrast to K'rill, has her hands clasped near the curve of her neck, a sparkling gaze upon Milligan.  "But I /am/ a harper!" she declares breathlessly, brushing off the first part of his explanation.  "Or was.  I'm K'rali, that's K'rill, and if you don't mind, I think I'll name my

baby after you."  Her smile's brilliant.  "I love the name Mulligan."

 

Milligan drifts closer to the table in a casual stride. His attention drifts as well, studying the rest of the cavern before the pair. "Don't let me stop you." He decides K'rali needs a closer look. His eyes trace her facial curves as he checks, "Your baby's not mine, is it? I'm ever so sorry, because I'd have thought I'd remember something like that. Embarassing this." It is K'rill's turn for scrutiny next and Milligan's features brighten, showing a spark of heightened interest.

 

K'rill makes a few noises, almost sounds like he is choking with all the harsh croaks. His face gets all kinds of red and everything. Really is quite a picture. It takes as least one breath, maybe two before he finds his voice once more, sliding smoothly around K'rali to stand before her, and face the harper, "K'rill, not of the harpers but well versed in those of your hall."

And their messed-up ways, he refrains from adding. "How K'rali jests... we haven't a name for the child yet." And then Milligen mentions fatherly duties, which doesn't help matters any.

 

K'rali pokes her head up over K'rill, which, let's be honest, ain't that hard.  "It's /yours/?"  How extraordinary.  "K'rill, did you know anything about this?"  It's tough to tell how much of her idiocy is real and how much is put-on, especially since it occurs with no symptoms.  "I guess I /have/ to

name it Mulligan now."  Oh, that's smug, that is.

 

Milligan suggests in honeyed tones, "Perhaps 'Kralligan'?"

 

K'rill facepalms. Yes, he honestly does facepalm as the heel of his hand strikes his forehead. Maybe it might knock some sense into the situation... probably not. He quirks a glance over his shoulder to his wingrider and 'apparent' mother of his unborn child, "Well, K'rali... if the child is his, you are more than free to name it whatever you will. In fact, I'd be delighted and give you both my best." *sigh*

 

Milligan murmurs suggestively to K'rill, "*Do* you now? I look forward to redeeming your best." The harper's eyes follow the line of his lips while Milligan licks his own, tasting its curve. His sigh echoes K'rill's.

 

K'rali's lips twitch, as if she's stifling a smile.  Gravely, the bluerider observes, "Maybe I should let you two get acquainted."  Tossing a wicked smile to a nearby Sirocco wingrider who's choking into his soup, she takes a few slidey-steps backwards.

 

K'rill is apparently so lost in his misery to even notice the attention he is receiving from Milligan. And so, at the harper's words, the bronzer flashes a most pained glance towards the man, soulfull eyes and everything. "You have /no/ idea, harper." K'rali's words cause him to wave the harper to the seat that she was in before, "Please. Sit. Yes... lets get acquainted and I'll be happy to tell you everything." Bronzer moves to right the chair he tipped over, and sit in that as well.

 

The former greenrider takes the seat. He moves in with will and a crowding shoulder. "You must tell me. I can see it has upset you. And surprised you too, no doubt?" Milligan devotes the entirety of his attention to listening to K'rill.

 

K'rali discreetly sinks into a chair several seats down, well within hearing distance, but hidden behind a hulking brownrider.

 

K'rill leans an elbow onto the table, dropping his head into his hand with fingers that extend into his hair, tousling it nicely. "Its just... I don't even know where to start.. Milligan, was it?" Another flickered glance to the harper as he leans towards him, "Ultimately, its the women in my life. Nothing but trouble. Every time I turn around. My wingsecond alone causes me heart palpitations... and then there is the goldrider I've know since...." Who goes nameless. "And now the Istan... But it seems to all come back to." Wait for it. Wait for it. A hand waves at K'rali, "/Her/. Mulligan, she says. Mulligan!" Figure that one out.

 

Milligan nods, dripping with insincere sympathy. "It could almost be expected, but that's what women do. And a major reason why I try my best to avoid them. But then, we all know how difficult that can be. So between this and that, you must be looking for some quiet stability."

 

K'rali briefly considers suggesting that K'rill consolidate his problems and make /her/ his wingsecond--but that would be beating a dead horse.  Or a dead wingsecond's knot, actually.  So she just listens, peering now and then around the brownrider's massive form.

 

"Stability!" K'rill leaps upon that word, and reaches over as if to grasp Milligan's arms. "Exactly! Stability. That is /exactly/ it. Its like, you know precisely where I'm coming from." A groan, "What I wouldn't give for it. Stability." Reverence in that word. Ohh! Idea. How about he gives K'rali the wingleader knot so that K'rill can move to Boll and fish to his heart's delight?

 

Oh, and wouldn't K'rali like that.

 

Milligan bobs his head with understanding reflecting in those cool grey eyes, rock colored not quicksilver. "It is a noble quest, but takes a profound mind to see such a goal ripen. Some can find it just watching clouds go by, but most of us seem to ache and do without. Some perhaps find consolation in anothers arms."

 

"Or they find unplanned pregnancies," floats up a comment.  It could have come from K'rali.  It could also have come from the bluerider just beyond her, or the other bluerider sitting across from her.

 

Milligan drops his voice and echoes, "Or they find conveniently unplanned pregnancies with a man in a position to help."

 

 

K'rill is hanging off of Milligan's every word, and it shows. Head turns to the side, overly-long bangs parting for a moment so that the bronzer's gaze levels with that of Milligan's. "I don't know what I-" Okay, it was that 'pregnancy' comment that yanks the bronzer's attention from the harper and back about, lips pursing with the tense  line of annoyance, only to have eyes alite upon K'rali.

 

Hey, what K'rali?  She's lurking, hidden behind the brownrider.  What brownrider.  The one that just got up to refill his mug.  Um.  Bluerider blinks up the table and smiles pretty.

 

Arg! So close. Yet Milligan knows the value of patience. "Take a deep breadth. Think before you act. Don't let others pull your flight-straps." Instead trust honest Milligan. His smile sparkles invitingly even as his eyes enjoy the delightful cascade of bangs.

 

One of the other rider at another table has an unimpeded view of the lurking K'rali and watches her hunched form with a smirk. A very satisfied smirk. She even chuckles throatily.

 

K'rill considers K'rali for a long moment, almost sedately. "Pardon," he murmurs to Milligan, before rising and moving to the bluerider with a sigh, "Yet again, you have managed to drive me to the brink, K'rali." Not an accusation, just a simple voicing of the obvious. He cants his head back towards where he and Milligan were silling, "Join us?"

 

Milligan offers carefully chosen words of his own. "I'm certain we can trust you."

 

K'rali's voice is all chill amusement, "It's really very remarkable how easily you manage to make everything my fault.  Quite a talent, I admit."  At the invitation, her gaze slides up towards Milligan.  "No, no, you two are enjoying each others' company far too much for me to intrude."  She bestows her blessing upon the harper with a small smirk.  "I just couldn't, really."

 

Milligan shines a glowing smile of appreciation, but fears it won't be enough. K'rali seems to have a knack of words of their own full measure. Best he add his own leavening. "I'm sure he doesn't mean to *intrude* on you."

 

K'rill quirks his eyebrows at her words. "Is that so... which would be why you /insisted/ on trying to make a fool out of me by ordering her tummy to be a boy? Too bad that I actually went along with it and instead asked for a /girl/." Not really words to draw her over to where the harper and he are sitting, are they? "Will you just please, K'rali? That's all I'm asking right now."

 

Milligan starts a bit, giving K'rill a suddenly stern look. "No. No. You can't order her to please herself. That's not how it works. She has to figure things out herself. Meanwhile, do you know what *you* want for yourself."

 

K'rali, who had opened her mouth to give K'rill some species of answer, shuts it and turns a surprised gaze upon Milligan.  But the question's a good one, and she waits for the answer.

 

K'rill looks confused. It is a look he is very good at. He excels at it, to be honest. He turns away from K'rali, to blink at Milligan, "What?" Lips turn down into an equally well-used frown.

 

Milligan rolls his eyes but waves a 'hold-that-thought' hand to K'rill before he leans back, pointedly away from K'rill. His look at K'rali is a bit stern, but in a paternal 'I-ve-seen-it-before' way. "*Some* people feel tugged in many directions and don't respond well to yet more tugging. Or what *seems* like tugging. You must remember not everything must be settled in one night."

 

K'rali's glance is decidedly cool.  Harper he may be, but he's also a bit nosy.  "Of course," she dryly acquiesces.  "But about K'rill..." She trails off in a manner indicating that the focus isn't on her--or shouldn't be.

 

Milligan gives her an encouraging smile, "Don't you think he'd make better decisions after a chance for quiet reflection?" Preferably in Milligan's bed, but he doubts that's likely. Still, no need to push the pretty boy away. He gives the male rider a winning smile. "Some peace. Simple pleasures. No need for deep thoughts right away. He doesn't need to plan the rest of his life in one night."

 

K'rill continues with he bewildered look, flashing a glance from K'rali to Milligan and back again. He sighs, and heavily with dropping shoulders, before moving to push in his chair with those manners drummed so very well into him. "I duties tomorrow before the wing assembles," by way of explanation for trying to leave.

 

K'rali lifts one brow--the left one, actually.  "Well, we were only planning on naming Mulligan Mulligan.  Not exactly life-changing.  But...you're right.  Simple pleasures.  I'm sure that K'rill--K'rill? don't go yet--can turn to you for that sort of thing." 

 

Milligan murmurs sympathically, "Yet more thread to char, even if it's falling over the sea."

K'rill flashes an unamused smirk to K'rali, before replying, "I doubt doubt that Millgan could satisfy me in ways that you are so very lacking, even if I didn't swing that way. He has done a magnificent job thus far." He glances to Milligan, "No slight upon you harper. You have been very understanding and extremely helpful. Forts hospitality is yours." And so, he starts for the bowl.

 

K'rali sputters for a moment.  "You /slime/!" she manages to spit after K'rill.  "I'm naming the baby K'rillsmells."

 

Milligan suggests quietly, "I see my time is being wasted."

 

Milligan gives K'rali a cool, evaluative look. "That wasn't your best choice of tactics. Do you *enjoy* offending him?"

 

K'rali shoves to her feet.  "Right, whatever, I know, you're thinking I didn't pay attention in that mediation and diplomacy class.  Well, I did.  I was /very/ diplomatic."  She sniffs, injured, but can't help adding for honesty's sake, "In class."  With that, she sweeps out the same exit as K'rill, through presumably not to chase him down.

 

K'rali heads out into the immense bowl.

 

Milligan unfolds himself to his feet, straightening to his full and not insubstantial height. He gives the trail K'rali left a shrug. "Sometime you must decide what you want. *I* always do."

 

Milligan heads out into the immense bowl.