A Game of Goat or Girl. AKA Oddisa is Searched

Characters N'sir, Oddisa, R'sner
Synopsis N'sir sneaks down to Keroon to see about getting a goat. What he finds instead is a girl. Whether this was a better choice is yet to be seen.
Out-of-Character Date January 28, 2020

Keroon Hold - Great Hall
Made of stone with an open beam roof, Keroon Hold is low but long, the rooms built close to the ground to keep things cool in the summer and not be too much of a barrier for the winds that sometimes whip across these plains. The Great Hall is no exception to that, though stairs lead up to a second story and an open balcony hallway that vanishes in both directions at the top. Doors lead to offices and the kitchen as well as various other places. The decor is rustic, mostly stone and bare wood, polished to a shine. Tapestries and paintings are all of Keroon and its beasts, especially runner champions that have been born here.

Winter - Month 3 of Turn 2724

It's been a long winter if you're Oddisa. Mainly being stuck inside for a month, and then straight into exams to try and earn her Sr.Apprenticeship. The knot is new, and due to her new status, there's a waiting period. While Journeyman Garphet has fought hard to keep his apprentice, keeping a runner specializing apprentice in a Weyr isn't ideal for education. The sevendays of exploring different areas, particularly meeting Runnercraft, specializing Journeyman in hopes they would take a shine to Oddisa and take her on. The journey to find the perfect match, to continue learning has brought the drawly blonde pixie to Keroon hold. It is still winter here, but a milder one and the day is headed towards an end. Settled in between two much bigger boys, flicking food at one across the table and playfully kicking at shins, she appears content. Each shoulder holds a firelizard, a green, and a brown. Beneath her rump is two thick books that act as a booster. Using literature appropriately. Beyond the size and sex difference, you would never know this was not home. The young men seem to have moved past the oddball beastcraft girl. Possibly because it could lose them teeth.

Despite the fact that there is ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about N'sir to suggest he would have even a passing interest in goats? He has, indeed, been looking at goats for most of the day. Why the very colorful, very flamboyant greenrider would be looking at goats, however is a mystery to all but himself. A mystery that is more then enough to have more then a few of beastcrafters indulging in a bit of gossip and speculation. N'sir, however is oblivious, entering the hall in a flurry of silver, lavender, and curls that are entirely to long for /anyone/ without a lick of fashion sense. Drawing off a billow cloak that just screams 'I AM FROM IGEN', he folds it over one arm, snagging a mug of klah before moving to peruse the offerings on the buffet table. In short order two things become clear, the first, N'sir is as fussy as he is flamboyant; the second, he is not terribly fond of meat. It is in the wake of snagging a bowl of nothing but raw fruit and veg that he steps over and slips into place at the table opposite the rather clashing trio. "Well met," is murmured as he sets the mug and plate down and pops a bit of melon into his maw.

The entrance of the Igen greenrider gets a passing notice at first, Oddisa busy telling a story loudly, "SO like, she was buckin' an' I though' shards. She could prolly jump if she could jus' buck in the righ' direction." The sweet, girlish drawl of the dusty faced teen who really doesn't have any features that would envoke the idea that she is older than 10 or 11. Except, she wears the knot of a senior apprentice and seems to sound like she grew up at sea. As the man settles down, he is looked up and down, "My cousin would love you. Um, well met. An' such." No name, his plate is eyeballed because hers is the opposite. The plate is one meant for appetizers, not for meals, and on it is nothing but bacon. "What brings yu to Keroon? Fancy some races?" Speaking up, the two boys flanking her content to silent staring. With fat fingers, the 6'0 tall, lanky, black haired apprentice beside her snatches a piece of bacon. Lightning-quick a small hand hits the back of his head, hard, and the bacon is dropped. "Lazy, get yur own food. But now that it's been on yur lips." The piece is fed to the green firelizard, "Ahh see." Smiling at the firelizard and turning back with a tilt of her head to the green dragon rider.

"N'sir," is provided in the wake of sucking melon juice off his thumb. "Rider of Green Elianneth," plucking another slice of melon off his plate, he pops it in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before adding. "Assistant Weyrlingmaster for Igen. And no, no interest in races at all." Runners are big and smelly and a little scary and smelly (Did I mention smelly?) "I've been looking at goats" he admits as he dabs his lips with a napkin before draping the napkin over his lap. "Female goats. Dames? Mares? I have no idea," he admits as his wrist twists in an airy wave. "At any rate there none suitable." Suitable for what? Who knows.

At the giving of a name Oddisa dip head polite, "I am Senior Apprentice Oddisa, but Odi works cuz it's shorter. Nice to meet yu." The bacon is nibbled at, slowly tossed into her mouth without any care for proper manners. Both pale eyebrows arch upward at the mention of goats, and a stupid smug smile graces chapped red lips. "Do you have a weyrling dragon with a taste for goats? I'd hate to take marks from pockets but, the ones around Keroon have no meat on em. You'd do better going north, all the ones around here are fancy, or furry, but not worth eatin' unless yur starvin'. You wantin' a nanny or a doe. Nanny, once they kid, doe before." The shorter and stockier boy rolls his eyes, "She's an expert on everything now, the knots addled her." He also gets smacked; apparently, she's not exactly friendly to all her peers. How does one expect someone so tiny to earn respect? Keep her slap hand strong.

Fancy is EXACTLY what N'sir is looking for. Which, really, should come as no surprise to anyone who has spent more then a moment in his company. "Not fancy enough," he notes with a distressed sniff. "And no, no eating involved." Even the thought is enough to have him grimacing mildly and to inspire a mild shudder to running the length of his frame. "I don't think a nanny would be appropriate," he murmurs. "Marvin is very particular. And grumpy. Still… When you say fancy," changing topics, he leans forward, resting his arms on the table as he eyes the trio curiously. "What exactly do you mean?" Because so far, all the she-goats he has been shown look disturbingly like he-goats. The slapping, though, earns a twitch of dark brow, one hand drifting up to tuck a stray curl behind his ear.

Now R'sner looks like a man who would definitely eat the goat. He's probably threatened to do just that a time or two (though he'd never follow through. At least ONE particular goat is safe from being his dinner). He also looks like a man who might not be terribly pleased to be here, stalking into the hall with a stern look and a keen eye. Thankfully, he doesn't need to look long — N'sir definitely stands out in a crowd. And whether Elianneth has forewarned of his arrival or not, he's still marching straight through apprentices and journeymen alike to get to his weyrmate's side. "Pretty sure violence is frowned upon," comes in dry tones for all the head-slapping, even if that sharp-eyed gaze is pinned on the greenrider. "Unfortunately."

Stretching arms overhead, there's a glance at a clock and then a nudge to the taller boy, "Yu gonna be late." There's more to the relationship between the three then meets the eye. Turning back to N'sir, the remaining bacon is delivered into the waiting mouths of Haygirl and Trot, both lizards crooning lovingly. "Oh, well, if yu go out to the southeast, there's a cothold 'bout four miles off. Green roof, can't miss it. My cousin's dragon likes fancy food, we got her one for graduation. They're pretty, worthless, though. Small, big eyes like baby canines, I'm sure inbreeding is involved. Long hair, mustaches with legs really. Come in forty odd colors, and expensive." The idea that an expensive, fancy goat, was an elaborate meal for a prissy dragon might give N'sir unrest. As the other man walks in, Oddisa stares at him long and hard, eyes affixed. "He's in training, we've tried other methods, but thus far this works fastest." Squinting, face pressed forward R'sner is under harsh scrutiny. "Can't escape him, can I." Is mumbled, shaking the thought off with blonde braids smacking cheeks. "Go to Clearfast, tell em Odi sent yu. Don't mention that we fed it to somethin', they think they're pets." Snort, eye roll.

One would think that Elianneth would have warned N'sir. Really, she should have warned N'sir. Unfortunately, Elianneth is Elianneth and is far more interested in bounding over to Toith and poke-prod-nudging the older green into playing. Or cuddling. Or playing and cuddling (which is technically wrestling, but still). That being the case, N'sir is completely taken by surprise, his head jerking up and eyes going momentarily wide before he affords his weyrmate an entirely to sweet smile. After a momentary pause, he lightly clears his throat, slidding down on the bench to make room while nudging his plate toward the weyrlingmaster. "Fruit?" Course, Odi's last immediately steals his attention, as does the description of the expensive fancy goats. "That is exactly what I want!" Which is promptly followed with a horrified look at the mention of eating them and a slant eyed gaze toward his weyrmate as he realizes he's pretty much lost any hope of talking himself out of being in trouble. "I.. ah… thought Marvin…Heh. I love you." Cause that ALWAYS helps.

A dark eyebrow arches at the wide-eyed return. R'sner says not a thing, but does he really need to? That look holds all the promise his words ever could. Instead, there's a drift of dark blue eyes over to Oddisa, as the scrutinizer gets scrutinized in return. "Not for eating," is what he'll say on the goat business, voice flat and dry and coupled with another twitch of an eyebrow. "Mmhm," comes for the declaration of affection made by his very in trouble weyrmate, before Res slings a leg over the bench and drops down into a seat beside him. "Don't need a goat," he says pointedly before tipping his head and tossing a finger at Oddisa. "And you'd be surprised how unhelpful that sort of discipline can be when wanting to curb behavior."

"I have a fella at Fort you should meet." Piping up, pressing hands down on the table to lift feet up and underneath her bottom. "Eventually though? Old meat doesn't bother a dragon." The idea behind pet goats evades ODi entirely, the waste of resource alone baffles the girl. "I'm not allowed a crop in here no more, they make me leave it in the barn." No idea why, none at all. "If yu don' need a goat then that settles it, I've got final barn checks here soon." A Journeyman passes behind Oddisa and drops several veggies on her plate,the sprouts might as well be live snakes the way they're glared at. "Not fair, I'm not gettin' any taller. Stop trying to force nature." The boy beside gets the largest doe eyes, lip out in full pout. With a sigh he swallows the vegetables and Odi smirks.

N'sir grins in the wake of R'sner's words, the weyrlingmaster's last inspiring a husky laugh as he plucks a piece of fruit from his plate. "Of course /we/ don't need a goat," he assures. "/Marvin/ needs a goat. Particularly since we're going to be so busy with candidates and weyrlings and grandbabies…. You know how distracted Eli gets when there is so much going on. We do," N'sir insists as he twists around to eye Oddisa as she attempts an escape. "Need a goat. Or Marvin does. He /needs/ a lady friend," he notes in adorably insistant tones to R'sner. It is the mention of Fort that has him exhaling a quiet laugh. "Who? Our son's weyrmate is the weyrsecond at Fort." Course, he's pushing to his feet, slanting 'doe' eyes at R'sner as he does so. "We should at least look at the goats? Since we're here?"

"Shame," says R'sner for the crop. But it's all dry and sarcastic and coupled with a subtle smirk that says he probably knows why. Ahh, kids and their violence. The blatant abuse of doe-eyes gets a much steeper arch of his eyebrow, and Oddisa is privy to a look that might have curdled milk at one point in time. Alas, he has no jurisdiction over senior apprentice beastcrafters and so can only glower disapprovingly at the sudden vanishing of vegetables into a mouth that is not her own. "We don't need a goat," he agrees, though the words are spoken more to N'sir than to Oddisa. "Marvin does not need a friend. We're not looking at goats." They're definitely gonna end up with a goat. But maybe not today. "You want a pet," adds R'sner, tossing a thumb towards the tiny crafter girl. "Take her instead. Though I'm not convinced she'll be any less trouble." Squinty-eyed look offered to Oddisa this time. "She's small, but looks like she'd deck you if you call her cute." Toith would definitely approve.

The exit to the hall has received a fair share of glances, Oddisa scooting sideways off the books to reveal the fact that the bench was built for large men and not, whatever it is she is. Probably nutritionally deficient tiny problem children weren't the ideal demographic for this hall during construction. "You're welcome to go look, I can' tell yu what ta do. Goat, no goat, I'm runnercraft." Not her circus, not her dancing wher show. The word shame gets a crooked grin, cheeks, and nose wrinkling impishly with an innocent flick of her hands up to the sky 'right'. Somehow at least feigning that R'sner was not being at all sarcastic. Standing up and hopping over the bench, she tilts her head down to her shoulder at R'sner, "You coulda had the vegetables if yu wanted them, I'd of shared." Obviously. There's a pause, lips puckering forward as his look finally registers. YEP. TIME TO GET. "I don' know what you two are into but, I'm not for sale. I have a huntrillion family members who'd come lookin' for me. Weyr's don't let you keep women as pets, least none I've been in. I know the Weyrsecond and his weyrmate, I'm sure they wouldn't approve of this idea." The books are grabbed up, both men the targets of her fiercest 'try me' face. "I'm far from cute.. Good luck with yur goats." Before she can make her escape, the Journeyman from earlier hands her another plate, twice the sprouts, they've doubled. The audacity. The newly acquired plate slows her exit down, momentarily.

N'sir tilts his head in response to R'sner's words, full lips twitching up in a smile that ridiculously beautific. "You know," he muses as he slants a glance back at Oddisa. "That is not an entirely horrible idea." They are still getting a goat, however. Not today, but soon. Very, very soon. Making a grand show of mulling it over, he pops a carrot in his mouth, eyeing Oddisa like goods at the bazaar as he chews and swallows. Course, her reaction has a husky laugh spilling past N'sir's lips, a pointed twinkle shining in dark eyes as he shakes his head and slants a glance at his weyrmate. "Fiesty," he allows. "But not particularly quick on the uptake." Pushing to his feet, he indulges in a slow stretch— a gesture meant more to distract his weyrmate— and circles around the table toward Oddisa and her plate of sprouts. "This," he notes as he dangles a white knot before her eyes. "Is far more interesting then a plate of sprouts. If," he adds. "You'd consent to stand for Raaneth and Nymionth's clutch in Igen."

Better luck next time, N'sir. Distracting stretches just get an arch of the weyrlingmaster's brow (it's a wonder it's not stuck like that yet, honestly) and a quiet snort of what might be amusement. With his weyrmate sauntering around the table, R'sner just leans forward, elbows planted to the top, and leans over to peer at Oddisa. Squint. "You know the Weyrsecond and his weyrmate, hm? So do I." And better than you, missy! says the smirk curling at his mouth. But a moment later, he's done playing whatever game has been afoot (if a game was going in the first place), settling back and bobbing his head at N'sir's offer. "That is the truth of it. Not a pet. A candidate."

The laughter inspires no confidence, standing her ground and pressing shoulder back with head raised in defiance. Staring N'sir straight in the face, prepared to fight, though the chances she wins are obviously nearing single digit. No fear, no looking for help or an exit. Once the knot is revealed, there's a roll of denim eyes, "Whatta yu wanna search me for anyhow?" The drawling tone of a long-suffering search avoider, R'sner is glanced at, but the loudly dressed assistant weyrlingmaster in front of her is being issued as much of a challenge as she can present. "I'm sure they'd not approve of this." Dismissively staring at the knot. Understandably, she is thinking, eyes squinting and disconnected. A past conversation mulled over, her mind back on a trail outside Fort Weyr. There's an unexplained twitch of one lip, because well, she pisses K'zre off as much as this other guy.

N'sir tilts his head, dark eyes slanting a glance toward R'sner before he flicks the knot back up into his hand. "One never knows what the dragons might be looking for. It would not be the first crazy suggestion to come from Elianneth and Toith. But," he adds as he steps back around the table and settles into a feline sprawl against his weyrmate's side. "There will never be a day that /I/ beg anyone to stand for Igen. If the invitation alone is not honor enough inspire you, so be it." That he is more then a little insulted? Well, there will never be a time when his emotions are not clearly etched on N'sir's face. Fortunately, he stops just a breath away from huffing in indignation. "I still want a goat," is murmured in an aside to the weyrlingmaster.

There's very little to read on the weyrlingmaster's face, even as his weyrmate rejoins him. N'sir might be insulted, but R'sner is just… R'sner, arched eyebrow and all. "It's not for everyone," he agrees, picking at a bit of melon on his weyrmate's plate. "Not sure who you're thinking of that wouldn't approve," he adds, "but the dragons do. Toith is many things, but a liar she is not. Still," he adds, wiping his fingers on a napkin. "It's no one's decision but your own. If you change your mind, you can always write to Igen." He's in no hurry to get up either it seems, content to wind an arm around N'sir's shoulders, steal food from his plate, and delay the inevitable goat discussion.

This is not a quickly made decision, all the speaking done gives the sliver of a beastcraft girl time to mull it over. Parsing through all of her options, and life, and where she's at. Vacantly staring at the space N'sir once occupied, Oddisa's face softens, and eyes grow wide as the knot is abruptly pulled away. "No, no, bring it back. Yes, alrigh' yes!" The opportunity suddenly snapped from her comes down hard, eyes wide in horror and breathing quickening. "I'll do it, I wanna. I wanna do it, I'll accept yur offer. Tell Toith and Ellianeth thank you." The desperation and speed in the sharp soprano is at sharp odds to the person they've experienced throughout the conversation. The books are put down, hand going out to N'sir, "Yu can't goat shop in the dark anyhow. An'… I'm sure at least F'inn will be pleased." Limited experience tells Odi her might approve, K'zre being harder to read. Opportunity is not a lengthy visitor, and the possibility of having the chance taken away does the trick.

N'sir tilts his chin down at the response, dark eyes slanting the girl a pointed look before lowering to study his (impeccable) manicure for entirely to long. He's gonna let her squirm for a bit. Clearly not the least bit above being a little bit bitchy when he believes it is necessary. A little bit. Just a little, is a fact made clear when his wrist twists in a flourish to dangle the knot within easy reach of the girl. "Good. Smart. Now, go tell who you need to tell, pack light and get back here. Those ten laps around the bowl you've earned yourself are going to take well into the evening." Yeah, he's just kinda like that when his feathers are ruffled. As for F'inn and K'zre, a toss of his head serves to send his curls flurrying over his shoulders, dark eyes sharp. "I'd be more worried about keeping the weyrlingmasters waiting overly long."

R'sner clears his throat, the sound a warning meant for his weyrmate and coupled with a squeeze of his hand at his arm. *Behave*. Does he really need to say it? Probably not. As for Oddisa… "It's yours if you want it," he agrees, as she accepts the knot. "There's no time limit on the offer, so long as you're of age. And you can take a day or two, if you need to sort things out," he adds, shooting N'sir another look that is far more telling. "Or we can bring you home — to Igen — tonight. It's up to you." As for running laps? A press of his lips and a long breath, but whatever he might have to say on it will clearly not be said here. While N'sir might be sharp, R'sner is (for once) the mild one. "Relax," comes on the heels of his weyrmate's last, though whether it is for greenrider or new-candidate is anyone's guess. Maybe both? "Take a breath."

Both firelizards teeter, talons scraping, eyes whirly a mixed yellow-orange as Oddisa watches N'sir, setting lips to hide any trace of desperation. Waiting, neutral with arms at side a face one in runners might use when attempting to catch one at field, breathing slowing. The moment the knot is within view, every movement is slow, methodical, eyes locked on N'sir while avoiding actual eye contact. No spooking the greenriders. The moment it's within reach, the plate is put down and deft hands snatch it, if allowed. When the knot is firmly in possesion, it's examine with a lopsided cheeky smile. The laps get another one, "Only 10? I could do 20." The first of many lessons on challenging the girl, her unbearably self-destructive confidence showing itself. "I've, gotta tell my Master an'. I have all my things with me, I was trying out Journeyman for a new posting. Guess that's settled." The pale boxy green firelizard gets a scratch, as she's the most distressed. "I can go do that an' return. I'd hate to miss out on ma laps." Stubborn as a wherry, what have they done. Turning on heel, knot in deathgrip it's about half an hour before she's back. A fairly expensive wher hide bag, with her name in bright orange letters in it in one hand.

"Twenty it is then," N'sir agrees without a hint of hesitation. Clearly, he's more then happy to take boasts and put them to the test. The first of many lessons in challenging the mean green 'queen' of Igen. "No worries," he assures as he spills himself into R'sner's lap and smiles 'sweetly'. "You have /all/ night to run if necessary." Course, the moment she is gone, he turns an oh-so-sweet and innocent look on R'sner, dark lashes fluttering as he tucks his bangs behind his ears. "So no goat?" No goat. He KNOWS that. Fortunately, Oddisa does not take long in returning and N'sir is quick to push to his feet.

That half an hour sees the greenriders outside rather than lingering at the table. They're not hard to find, what with the dragons and all. They are also very distinctly sans a goat, because maybe R'sner put his foot down, or they've decided that carrying a candidate is enough for one trip. Either way, by the time Oddisa returns, R'sner is looking a bit more his stoic self, quick and without hesitation as he gets the travel situation settled (She's definitely riding with him) and all of them into the air. Igen is only a three-second trip Between and, once they've arrived, it's a simple matter to settle Oddisa in the barracks. The rules will be read — with firm warnings about breaking them — the choreboard discussed, and in the end she's given the rest of the evening to settle in and make herself at home. WELCOME TO CANDIDACY!

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