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Marryn ~~~
Lord-Elect of Southern Boll Hold
'Dragonriders of Pern' characters from
Dragonsfire MOO
IN DEFENSE OF CRATES
Mango Grove
Tall, fully grown mango trees form a semicircle here, facing the back of Southern Boll Hold like sentinels. A crescent shaped swath of grass is kept neatly manicured in between the two. The sweet aroma of mangos pervades the area.
The nearby jungle canopy overhangs the edges of the grove making this one of the coolest parts of the hold. One side of the clearing contains a long narrow garden maintained by the kitchen staff
It is a winter evening. Temperatures are mild, and there is a soft sea breeze.
Winter evenings at Southern Boll aren't like winter evenings further north. This one finds the Lord-Elect bearing only trousers and southern-style sandals yet still gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat. Every few moments a loud crash shatters the relative quiet of the grove as he swings an axe to break up an odd assortment of crates and barrels stacked to one side.
Fort's Weyrlingmaster has been a very scarce presence in these parts over the past while. In fact, it has been close to two Turns since she was last here. So as she ambles out into the grove, rider's coat casually slung over her shoulder it will be the noise that causes her footfalls to pause. Watching the Lord-Elect do.... something, eyebrows go up in curiousity. "Now Marryn, just what did those poor crates do to you?"
*BAM!* There goes a smallish crate, pieces falling neatly to all sides of the chopping block. Marryn looks up with a jerk of his chin to swing long-ish bangs out of the way, a smile melting away the sterness of concentration as recognition registers. “They were plotting a rebellion,” he shares with an affected sadness. “I had to take immediate action.” Thick brows quirk. “Have you come to plead their case, Madri?”
"Well as it just so happens...." She figures at this point it's safe enough to move forward, "The senior crate among them did plead their case to me and I just couldn't say no." Cough. The response is as close to being serious as she can muster given the topic at hand. Arms are folded in front of her and she'll even swagger forward to motion at the remaining crates, "They are requesting a break in the destruction of their kind."
Marryn slides a glance at the remaining pile, the ax swaying ominously from one hand. Suddenly he tenses, muscles tightening along shoulders and arms, as the ax is swung and sunk with a solid thunk into the chopping stump. Dusting his hands, Marryn turns a chipper grin on the greenrider, “For you, I’ll grant their request. But first you must agree to my terms.”
Head tips slightly to one side and again axe eyed casually. Attention and gaze both return to Marryn and a smile plays upon her features, "Ah... the dangerous part. What are your terms Lord Holder?" This will be said with a flourish and slight bow.
Dark eyes observe a moment, lips set in a twitching line within neatly trimmed goatee. Birdsong momentarily picks up as if to compliment the visitor on her manners. Marryn sets hands to trim hips, then, “Your time, and yourself.”
"Well given your reputation among the girls here...and afar, I will take that as both a compliment and a dangerous request." Not really, but she couldn't resist the tease. She will nod once in acceptance of the offer. "The terms seem agreeable enough and as luck would have it I am not pressed for time.. so for now I am yours."
Politic façade drops completely as Marryn laughs, a deep rolling timbre that colors the lines of his face with amusement as well. “Indeed, Madri. I see the crates chose well in asking for you as their defender.” Leaning aside he snatches up a towel and brushes it across the sun-darkened tan of his skin. “I’m glad to hear it though, because I could use a break. And a skin of wine is much better when shared, especially with a lovely lady.”
Madri chuckles softly and waves off the crates with another flourish. "Well you know me...always found it hard to resist poor crates in distress." She glances over him and the work he'd been doing and nods, "Well then dear Marryn, allow me to distract you further with that wine and some chatter?" She was on visit for a reason, but it's already been tended to so only has time to spare now. "Red or white is it?"
Marryn nods and rolls one hand in a gesture of ready acknowledgement. Of course. Aiding the distressed is a worthy trait for which to aspire. “Ah,” he notes with upraised finger. The towel is tossed over one shoulder, apparently the need for a shirt negligible in the warm southern heat. “That is a fine question. I can acquire either. What is your preference?”
There really on is one preference for this woman, "Red." Always the colour of choice for Madri, she too is finding the heat of the area a bit on the challenging side. Jacket is adjusted in her grasped, thankful for the lighter tunic she opted for when considering her destination. "So shall we languish here with our wine and drink, or do you have a preferred area of choice?" Always a favourite spot of hers, despite history she glances around once again, taking in sights and smells and even letting a small sigh escape.
“Fine choice, fine choice,” Marryn drawls, again nodding in approval. “If you will wait right here a moment?” Chin cants as he peers through those ever-slipping longish bangs. Taking a few steps backwards, he turns without waiting further and disappears into a back door of the Hold. A few minutes pass and he returns, now bearing not only a rounded skin but two glasses as well. “The beach?” he asks, head tilting in that direction as he nears.
Madri will flash a charming grin of her own and motion with a hand, "Is there any other colour really?" With that suggestion she nods, and will deposit her things nearby. No sense in carrying what is needed. "Now then... what is it we shall talk about? Other than freeing crates that is?" A sidelong glance filled with amusement is tossed his way, "Though I can see why you might be doing that." Great stress relief! She'll fall into step with Marryn as he heads down towards the beach.
Moments later the sound of rolling surf and tang of salt permeate the air as the pair arrive at Mango Beach. Marryn pauses briefly to cast a glance at his companion, gesturing for her to precede him toward a nearby circle of logs. “Yes, well,” he starts with a small clearing of his throat, “Other than the rebellion, there was a need to get rid of those that were broken down or too warped to be of use anymore. Makes good kindling.”
Continuing with her sauntering way, the woman can't help but laugh. "True...and I hear smashing things is a great stress relief." She'll park on whatever spot is comfortable and handy, stretching out legs before her. "I must admit, i would take winter here over Fort's bitter bite almost anytime."
Marryn follows and claims a seat beside the greenrider, setting to pouring them each a glass of the red wine as soon as he’s seated. “It does have certain advantages,” he grins, looking quite the mischievous schoolboy. “And it’s own sort of ‘bite’.” Never let it be said that Southern Boll was not accommodating!
For that comment Marryn gets a playful, yet wary look. "Careful who you go mentioning biting to. Could land you in more trouble Marryn." Madri flashes yet another grin ... though this one has a sort of cheshire warning to it. "And if I remember correctly, you want to avoid getting into more trouble with riders. Aye?" She eyes up the wine and props her chin in her hand, "So what's the topic of this eve?"
Marryn shrugs off the warning with a stretch of grin, instead tilting his glass and noting, “You brought it up. I’m just being thorough. Should I have kept the ax to protect myself?” Mocha-brown eyes wander then, purposely teasing as they measure the woman’s form.
"The topic of the evening is where my cousin--a dear man, but obviously in his dotage--has hidden his Masterlist of Pern's Important People." The voice, cheerfully teasing, comes from a small-ish, thin young woman, pale-skinned and quite pretty. Her hair--'bottle' blonde--has been swept back into a messy sort of bun and her attire is even less covering than usual. Still tight trousers and boots, but a shirt with no straps this time, held up by a ribbon tied round the hem above the bust. She's dotted with sweat and smells of sea-spray. "And what's this about an axe?" she wonders as she flops to the ground on one side of Marryn. An arm brushes across her forehead to clear away sweat before it can sting her dancing brown eyes. "You really are much too violent." Another grin and then she turns to face Madri. "Hullo!"
Madri is in fine form thank-you very much, though she still remains perched as she was. Though she will take her glass and lightly taste of the wine. There's a snort somewhere in there as she eyes the Lord Holder, "I somehow suspect you'd be more than capable of defending yourself against would-be attackers under /those/ circumstances." At the appearance of Theta, Madri squints and points accusingly back at Marryn, "He was being destructive! To those poor crates no less." Yes, she'll opt for distraction tactics. Theta, meet Madri, crate rescuer extraordinare!
Marryn reaches round to tweak that blond bun, purposely nudging it loose if he can. “Ah, yes, here is one of my ever-supportive adoring fans as we speak.” Residing in only trousers and sandals, Marryn was caught working outdoors when Madri arrived and, in typical fashion, has yet seen the need to don a shirt. A towel decks his broad shoulder, however, and now he yanks it off to toss on Theta’s lap in case she’d like use of it. “Madri, have you the distinct honor of meeting my long-lost cousin, Theta?”
Taking that towel and dabbing at her face in a very ladylike fashion, Theta tosses it back to him with the sigh of the much put-upon. "'Have you /had/ the distinct pleasure', you silly goose! Of course she's had it /now/." She grins wider and shoots him a playful wink before turning to the woman in question. "Yeah, he does that. Violent by nature, I believe. It couldn't have been nurture, I can't see my aunt putting up with that nonsense." She keeps her voice soft and even, but breaks into laughter at the end, unable to maintain the facade. Shifting a bit, Theta smoothes a few sand grains from the front of her top; itself dyed a rather violent shade of pink. "And why am I adoring you now, Marryn? Did you single-handedly stop the progression of joint-ail? Write a song? Build a boat?" She suddenly remembers her point in seeking him out and frowns. "All while I was making a fool out of myself at Ista? I'm duly impressed, really, but I do need a list if you have one." She huffs and folds her arms over her chest, looking suddenly very, very young. "I'm tired of running into these grand sorts of people only to have no bleedin' idea who the hell they are!" And, as if on an invisible cue, her lips form into an unintentionally adorable sort of pout. "It's embarrassing!"
Madri just blinks. Right. "Cousin?" She glances from Marryn to Theta back to Marryn and well one gets the idea. "Your family just keeps growing, doesn't it?" Says pot to kettle. She will however reach either in front of or behind Marryn, whichever is easier or perhaps just more brazen to offer her hand to Theta, "Well met! Elsveth sends her greetings to you both as well." Said green is not too far off, having followed her lifemate in typical fashion as of late and kept due vigilance over her rider. Theta is given another curious glance as she leans into the man, "She always like this?"
Marryn pointedly ignores the linguistic correction, gathering the towel and slinging it back over his shoulder without a second thought. She’s related. Cooties don’t apply. “For the record, Miss Theta,” he starts after a lingering glance at Madri, “I was quelling a rebellion. Sometimes violence is a necessary evil in such circumstances.” A smirk rises as he listens to the rest of her nattering – was there something about adoring him in there? – still in place when thick brows rise to Madri’s question. “Always,” he drawls with soft emphasis. “I think you should hire her as part of your defensive team. She’ll talk the ears off any panel of judges.”
"Violence is never necessary." On this, Theta is quite firm. "We are human beings, capable of rational thought and higher reasoning." Oddly enough, as she quotes a phrase heard many a time, her speech pattern becomes...a bit more /posh/. "We can use both of those assets to perpetrate better solutions than beatin' each other senseless!" And as she paraphrases there at the end, her more usual accent re-emerges. Just in time to hear her cousin's suggestion. With a set of movements more quick than Theta herself thought she could manage, she leans towards him and swings her opposite hand in a resounding /smack/ against his jaw. Never let it be said that Meara didn't teach her daughter a thing or two. But, when she speaks, her voice is patronizingly affectionate. "I told you, goose. Talk about me like I'm not in the room and you're just askin' for a smack."
"Ah, I am afraid dear Theta that sometimes it is the only option given." This is offered up with an odd tinge of seriousness to her voice though Madri does manage to shake that off with a shrug. With Marryn's suggestion see Madri back-peddle, "Ah no, no. I work.. ah, alone on those types of situations." Unless of course R'ish is about, then it's an unfair tag-team. The smack is cause enough for her to jump as she glances back at the younger woman, "Speaking of violence..." But she will grin... really, how could she not?
Marryn tosses arms outward in a helpless gesture, tone playfully whining in the face of the stern philosophical lecture, “They were /crates/!” Again his gaze moves to Madri, this time for backup. Surely she won’t let his personal integrity be so besmirched! A grateful nod shifts the growing starlight across touches of copper feathered amidst his dark locks as she does make a supportive notation. Movement begins to draw his attention in the other direction but is cut short by the sharp sting of a slap! Blinking rapidly he works his jaw, one hand rising to frame his chin with forefinger and thumb. “Well don’t go off on blithering tangents and maybe it wouldn’t /feel/ like you’re not in the room!” he suggests, teasing still but definitely in an annoyed tone. And there’s his support again. “Yah, violent child! Should be ashamed of yourself.” Wait, was that a grin on his ernswhile supporter? Where’s the loyalty??
Turning to Madri, Theta offers a matching grin, but shakes her head. "That wasn't violence, though. That was self-preservation." She snickers to herself. "'Establish dominance early and often.'" The oft prescribed method for canine training barely escapes before her snicker turns into a giggle. To her cousin, though, she snorts, leaning his way to bump shoulders companionably, belying the exasperation in her tone. "Oi! I wasn't goin' off on any tangent, I've just been askin' for the same thing for five minutes now. Have you or have you not got a list of Names I Should Know?" The capital letters are quite easily heard. "I don't much fancy lookin' like a half-wit for not knowin' who these people are. And for some reason I run into them more often than not."
Madri points out everso helpfully, "Yes, but they were defensless crates and you know it!" To Theta's explanation her eyebrow again goes up and her head tips off to one side, "Is that what you call it now?" Again gaze passes between kin as she leans back on her perch. Family squables are best left between members of the family, so her wine gets her focus as glass is drained and she's resettling glass in the sands.
Marryn will snort loudly at Theta’s request, expression tinged with incredulity as he twists slightly in her direction. “You always go around slapping people you want favors from, cousin?” He’ll shake his head then, setting long-ish bangs askew again, and a grin will rise anyway. “See the ol’ Harper in the Library. He’ll help you. He did a good enough job pounding the names of every Blooded and Weyrleading couple into Amarik and I. He’ll love a fresh victim.” Charming boyish hue is back for all the angst he himself caused the man growing up, as opposed to his quieter and more bookish brother. It’s a wonder the man is still sane. As Madri rises, so does Marryn. “Thanks for stopping by Madri. It was a pleasure.” If she’ll allow it he’ll scoop up her hand for a light kiss across knuckles. Even shirtless he can be suave.
Rolling her eyes at her cousin's 'chivalry', Theta pushes herself to her feet and offers a lazy wave to the pair of them. "You're incorrigible, Marryn." Even with that chastisement, her tone is obviously fond and her grin--complete with tip of the tongue poking out the side of her mouth--is brilliant as she makes her exit. "If you're late to breakfast, I'm not coverin' for ya!" she calls back sing-song over her shoulder and then is gone, back down towards the hold.
END OF LOG.