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Harper's Tale 2 - Wednesday, October 30, 2002, 10:41 PM

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The Betan Orb
A small space, one perhaps might even term it cozy when the curtains are drawn closed to wall off the massive outer weyr, leaving a cool blank wall of the off-white sail canvas. Furnishings are simple, but with a calm elegance that speaks of good taste, even in the complete absence of ostentation. A bed rests in one corner, designed for two, therefore leaving its single petite occupant ample room to sprawl. The thick mattress is covered with linens in a crisp white, edged with black piped ribbon and topped by a duvet in a ghost-grey cover. Pillows are abundant and fluffy, and underfoot, a soft carpet in greys, creams and blues shields feet from cold stone floors, as small glows in wall sconces provide a muted, intimate glow. A dresser and endtable are clean lined, wood covered in black laquer. The entire space is crafted as a somatic delight, a carefully selected indulgence by its ascetic owner.
The clean, sharp scents of citrus and redwort are offset by soft undertones of sandalwood, exotic spices leaving little grace notes here and there.
N'sync is here.
Obvious exits:
Outer Weyr

Wyn walks into the inner weyr towelling her hair dry of a last bit of Baths-induced moisture. The petite young woman smells of fresh citrus and redwort, and warm, clean skin, hanging up the towel neatly on a peg provided just for that purpose, and shrugging out of the several-sizes-too-big riding jacket with Inferno markings that she's wearing over hastily donned clothing. Humming to herself, she picks up a brush, and begins to comb the tangles from her hair.

N'sync looks remarkably content, lounging atop Wyn's bed in nothing but trous - after all, she's got his jacket, and he's always been more comfortable without bothering with a shirt, though soon the winter chill will force him to adapt. The weyr has changed in barely noticeable ways since Wyn left in the morning, while he was still curled in blissful sleep. The bed, for one, has been neatly made up and pulled tight. Random belongings and clothes tossed where they would the night before have been collected and stowed neatly next to the door. And, of course, there's N'sync himself... "I thought maybe you'd changed your mind," he states, his gaze rather intense as Wyn enters. Something flashes in his expression as he notes his jacket - thankfully being worn rather than tossed over the ledge in a fit of rage.

Wyn laughs quietly, finishes brushing her hair, and settles herself on the bed beside the brownrider, expression faintly amused. "No, don't worry about that, pet. You'd know if I changed my mind." Namely, because he'd be out on his rather cute arse. "I just had sweeps, had a bath, and had to interrogate a few Candidates. I hope you weren't too bored without me..." The tidied state of the weyr has been noticed, and Wyn is impressed. Somehow 'N'sync' and 'tidy' didn't really fit together in her mental books.

"I managed to occupy myself..." N'sync replies with a slow smile before he pushes himself to the edge of the bed and slides upward with a grace that indicates he's done so many times before - N'sync's always been good at getting in and out of beds, you know. "How'd the sweeps go?" he asks with some amount of actual curiousity as he takes advantage of her reassurance and hovers over her for a moment, then bends to press a kiss to her forehead.

"I noticed..." drawls Wyn in reply, abandoning her idea of sitting on the bed as N'sync stands. She permits the kiss, and calmly lifts her arms and wraps them around his neck, bracing herself lightly against his chest and lifting her face to watch him while she talks, expression more open and relaxed than N'sync's probably ever seen before. A very different creature, is a Wyn in her Inner Weyr, knowing completely what she's about. "And sweeps... went as well as sweeps usually go, when one draws V'der and Darth for wingmen. Although I was gifted some interesting massage oils from a retired healer woman out at one of the cotholds... I bring her copies of the latest scrolls, you see... Care to try it out, and we can have a talk?" Wyn's memories of her first encounter with N'sync are... blurred, but she remembers enough to know that something was different last night. And such things arouse curiosity.

N'sync's eyes widen just slightly - it it's only a moment. His features school themselves into something slightly less vulnerable, and his arms settle softly around her waist - almost as if he can't quite believe she's allowing it. "Love, I'm afraid that if you bring out massage oils," he begins, voice deepening tellingly. "That conversation might become troublesome." His fingers lace together behind her back, and scattered curls threaten to fall into his eyes as he tilts her head at her. "Not that it doesn't sound.. mm.. tempting..." Wait.. Is N'sync turning her down?

Wyn lifts an eyebrow at the polite refusal, and an odd smile touches her lips for a moment as she leans back into his arms just slightly. "A good point you raise. Perhaps later on, then... we, after all, have plenty of time." she admits, one hand shifting to coil a curl around her fingertip as she falls silent for a moment. "N'sync..." she begins tentatively. "About last night..."

"I'm not sure I'd call it plenty," N'sync replies quietly. "But yes... we have time." His arms tighten, supporting her weight with an easy swell of biceps, and he blinks rather solemnly down at her as she begins. "Last night," he picks up. "Was wonderful."

Wyn can't help but smile at that, briefly, but the expression almost... innocently knowing, in a way. "It was," she agrees. "But it was also different from the first time. You were different... what changed?" she asks, simple words but solemnly put, grey eyes alert and mobile, although settled firmly on the brownrider's face as she cuts to the heart of the matter in a tone of gentle curiosity.

N'sync's arms drop from around Wyn's waist suddenly, and he steps back slightly. "Shards, Wyn... there've been a few things happening between us since then!" For some reason, he looks rather insulted at the question, and worried. "Not to mention the lack of flaming rocks falling from the sky and killing people I've ridden with for the past ten turns... And the fact that... that.." He trails off, shaking his head slowly. "Of course things changed."

Wyn sighs slightly at the outburst from N'sync, and shakes her head, very firmly closing the gap between them again, and pulling the brownrider close to murmur to his ear that. "I meant that I liked the change." she notes. "You weren't quite so... self-absorbed. I felt like you were concerned for my enjoyment for me, not because of how good it would make you look. And that... was unexpected." she concludes, nipping playfully at the earlobe before letting him straighten up again.

N'sync allows himself to be pulled back - quite a change, for this brownrider. He's usually the one doing the pulling - and a small, sharp breath slides between his lips at the feel of her breath across the sensitive skin of his ear. "I was concerned for you," he points out as he straightens, eyes darkened. "I am... concerned.. Wyn. You're... special to me. I find that doing odd things to the way I think," he admits. His expression eases into one that's much more common on N'sync's features as his hands spread slowly across her back.

Lianta wanders in from The Vor Imperium.

My what an interesting scene for anyone entering the inner weyr. Wyn's here. But Wyn's not alone. Wyn is currently wrapped up in N'sync's arms and whispering something to the brownrider's ear. Eeek?

Lianta's eyes go... a bit smug at this scene. How, not sure. They do, however, end up looking skywards, with a rather pointed cough. Ahem? But, politeness is a virtue, soo. "If I'm not interrupting??"

"I... I..." Wyn isn't quite sure of how to answer that. Calm honesty in situations like this is not something she's used to getting. And so she falls silent for a moment, marshalling her thoughts and sighing slightly at the tactile sensation of warm hands cradling her. "I'm... still trying to figure out what to think, when it comes to you... Oh!" Cue a rather painful, if pretty-looking flush as Wyn, looking over N'sync's shoulder, spots Lianta upon hearing her cough. "Ah... hello Lianta. Been home long?"

"Ah, no, only a few seconds." Lianta leans against the wall awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck while finding the ground to be just.. fascinating. "Just... wondering what happened to Jack. There be no Jack coming to greet people that come in. "

N'sync's head spins sharply, and the intense gaze of a few moments before is interrupted by an annoyed scowl. His arms don't budge from Wyn's waist, though - he's fought long and hard for this position, and he's not going to let go of it without a fight. "Lianta?" he questions with a pointed raise of his brows. Yes, he's aware of the living situation - he has, after all, been stalking Wyn for some time. That doesn't mean he has to like it, though.

Lianta nods amiably. "Yep. Tis me, hausfrau de Wyn. Call me Lia, if you want to." Quick glance reminds that the familiar shortening of her name is not likely to occur for some time yet, but.. "Well. And then there is the conspicuous lack of pillows. Am I just very lost?" Doubtless.

"Jack...?" Pardon Wyn's slowness, but she's just switched over from navel-gazing her personal life to discussing the whereabouts of felines. "Jack's... asleep on the foot of my bed... see?" she waves vaguely at the piece of furniture, which, true to her word, has a ginger coloured feline at the foot of it, curled in a slowly purring ball. The initial blush is fading, although she's still somewhat tense in N'sync's arms, scrabbling for a new mental footing as gracefully as possible. "Ah yes, the pillows were removed in a Candidate prank. They got Tatia's as well, so I'll have to look her up and see about plotting a suitable revenge. Does blindfolding them and leaving them on the Star Stones in their underwear sound too harsh...?" she queries, lifting an eyebrow at her roommate, and then looking up at N'sync with a slight smile on her lips.

N'sync is trying to look amused rather than annoyed, but he's not managing it too successfully. Human or not, it is still N'sync on the inside. "I'm sure the two of you will be quite ferocious and have them wishing they'd never agreed to stand by the time you're done with them," he finally states, both expression and grip easing enough to let Wyn wiggle free, if she should choose. Evidently some tiny part of him recognizes that this may not be entirely comfortable for her.

Lianta shrugs, whether out of laziness, or at her own stupidity, it's hard to say. "I knew that Jack was hidden in a nice... cozy spot somewhere, just not where. Funny, that. She seems to be strangely attracted to certain articles of your clothing, Wyn." A slow, evil smile curls around her features. "Ah, the days of being a Candidate." Giggle, interrupted by yet another evil thought. "What if we threw them in the lake first? Then, we'd have freezing wet Candidates tied to the Star Stones in their underwear. Seems fitting." Beamk. "Of course, I heard that Bronagh's a candidate, too. That'd be interesting."

Wyn starts to wiggle free, gets about halfway, and then stops. Consideringly. Her lips compress once, ease, and then she quite assuredly settles herself back in under the tall brownrider's arm and wraps an arm around his waist. Possessively? We don't know yet. But Wyn has apparently decided that she's a big girl, and so is Lianta, and all three present in the room know what's going on. "Mmm, my dear Prankwraith, I like the way your mind works. Although perhaps the poor Candidates could use your help more than we. Must keep things fair, after all. Wouldn't want them being outclassed."

N'sync's brows rise, and as Wyn's arm goes around his waist, his own tighten around hers. "You know.. that's not a bad idea," he states with quick agreement and a considerable amount of smugness. This means something, you know - N'sync was just chosen over the roommate. Score! "The Candidates have their own barracks," he points out.

Lianta sagenods. "They're getting an early start, which means that they might be up to our level soon. They've got a ways to go yet." Grin, and rememberances of a certain prank in the Living Caverns, complete with Black Bundles. Reality need not apply here. "That's true enough. Smelly, dirty things they can be, too. At least, when everyone's there, and not doing chores every waking (and unawaking) hour. But when it came down to it, it was all a lark." Absence does make the heart grow fonder. And of course N'sync wins out over roommate! Unnatural if this is not so.

Exactly. Since Lianta is not That Sort of roommate, of course Wyn would prefer to be in N'sync's arms. "It would," notes Wyn consideringly, eyes half-focused as a consultation with Vorkoroth ensues. "Be a lark that you ought to repeat, you know. What do you and Backstreeth think, pet?" she queries coolly of the brownrider, tapping his chin with one finger, before canting her head at Lianta again.

N'sync dips his head to nip lightly at the chin-tapping finger, eyes darkening again as he nods quickly. "Backstreeth would take her down now, if she wanted. I'm sure someone could give her a knot, get her settled..." Not that Backstreeth particularly likes the idea of playing ferry to someone without his lifemate present. But when his lifemate is so insistent...

Lianta stops dead in her tracks. And peers at them both. "What be you saying? Or what be your dragons saying, more to the point." This seems... remarkably familar. At least Auri's dragon isn't here to try and eat her. "And does this mean that I get to do hours of chores, and even out the pranking sides?" Ponderponder. "And peace and quiet might actually occur around here." Perhaps... no. N'sync + Wyn, maybe peace and quiet might not be the word for it.

Certainly not quiet... Ahem. Wyn suddenly draws herself up to her full height, not impeded in the least by N'sync's continued arm around her, and takes a solemnly formal tone. "Lianta, it is a four-way unanimous decision." Or at least she can count off three ayes, and Backstreeth can be charmed if needed. "We would be honoured if you would consent to Stand for Tiareth and Orbyth's clutch."

N'sync tugs Wyn a tad bit closer as he adds his nod to Wyn's declaration. "He'll take you down now," the brownrider reiterates hastily, accounting for that fourth aye. "He says Puizuth is in the bowl. Zai can settle you in." Because N'sync isn't going anywhere.

Since the occasion seems to demand it, Lianta also takes on formal-persona, if only for a moment. "And I gratefully accept the offer (demand?), that I become another of the Candidates for the current clutch on the High Reaches Sands." Fwee. Wait.. this means that.. Lia does get to play with the llamas, and Wyn gets to play with N'sync. "Very satisfactory. I'll head down to the bowl, and hopefully check into the barracks, with the help of Zai." Smoochies! (Note: Large squeal of excitement about to come, just out of earshot of all concerned.)

Lianta wanders to the Outer Weyr.

Kythe glides in from the The Vor Imperium.

"Then it's settled." notes Wyn to the departing Lianta with a large amount of satisfaction. Unlike N'sync, she does have some non-ulterior motives in asking her friend to Stand. And Vorkoroth likes her. Wyn turns back to the brownrider holding her with a return of that odd little smile. "Now then... where were we?"

N'sync tilts his head down to hers with a small smile. His is also somewhat odd - but only because it's of the sort not usually seen on his face. "I've forgotten," he admits as his eyes leave Lianta's exiting form and settle firmly on Wyn again.

"Well, I suppose we could always go play strip poker and hope you remember." deadpans Wyn, before cracking a smile and tilting her face to invite a kiss. "But in all seriousness, I think we were actually talking, amazing as it sounds." she comments lightly, slowly walking her fingers up and down his spine. "Hmm… we should play a little game, perhaps. Alternate questions, and they can be as outrageous as you wish. The question-ee must answer, or pay a forfeit of some form..." Treat serious issues lightly, and they becomes more approachable. Wyn could quote that line from one of her mindhealing texts.

N'sync isn't one to pass up an offer like that. His head lowers and dips toward Wyn's for a slow, sensuous kiss as his own hands dip toward the hem of her shirt. "That could be interesting," he agrees, lifting his head a few inches to look down at her. "As long as you stick to the rules, love."

Wyn nibbles at his lower lip before letting the kiss fade to its end, hands continuing their slow weave along the firmness of the brownrider's back as that odd, enigmatic little smile makes its' return. "With a game such as that... some times it's more fun to break them." she notes slyly, drifting slowly over towards the bed, as there are no scatter cushions to sit on. "But... I'll be as honest as you are. You ask first," she offers, in a gesture of good faith.

Scatter cushions or no, N'sync's mind would be firmly drifting toward that bed anyway. He follows easily, never allowing Wyn far enough to break contact as they go. The slow smile on his face is certainly of the leering variety, but his brows rise and he nods as they reach the bed and she makes her offer. After all: he's proving a point. "Do you ever miss the Healer Hall?" It's a nice, easy one, requiring only a minimum of effort - he'll start slow.

Wyn settles herself on the edge of the bed, and tugs at N'sync to bring him beside her. "Yes." she answers. "Even with taking Dragonhealer training, I still miss the people, the environment, the activity..." A pause, and a dry smile. "The heat. My turn now." she notes, lying back against the duvet to gaze at the rock ceiling as she, likewise, poses a simple question. "What did you do, before you Impressed?"

N'sync goes down beside Wyn. His hand stretches out, reaching, in a strangely sweet gesture, for hers, the only point of contact as they lay next to each other. "The heat... certainly." A boyish grin appears, only to be swept away as he answers. "Harper. I was hoping to walk the tables the turn I was Searched." His head turns, cheek resting against the duvet so he can watch her. "Why mindhealing?" Still simple... mostly. But reasonings behind life choices often reveal unexpected things.

Wyn's smaller hand lies still within the keeping of N'sync's larger one, fingers entwined lightly with his. "Mmm, and I was all set to present my idea for a project," she reminisces. "Perhaps when Pass ends, I'll pick it up again. But Mindhealing..? I suppose because of 'I think, therefore I am'." she sums up. "The body cannot exist without the mind, and yet people seem to forget that some of the worst suffering in the world exists wholly on the mental plane." Her bland tones warm somewhat as she recounts this reasoning, obviously one close to her heart. She continues to stare at the ceiling, face serene, as she asks "Do you have any family? Besides Ciotoswyn?"

N'sync shakes his head slowly, and his answer is rather slow in coming this time. "Not really.. or, I do, but not family that.. I'm close to. Mother fostered me, father was a 'rider.. I've got some half siblings running around Pern, but I've no idea where." He pauses, shortly, and his hand shifts, fingers idly playing over hers for a moment. "So for all intents and purposes, it's just me and Backstreeth. And Ciotoswyn." The child is obviously an afterthought - Ciera, after all, isn't terribly exited about N'sync being around. "And you? Are you close to your family? Do you have many, other than Morallen?" Hrm. Did he just tip his hand, there?

Possibly... or possibly not. Wyn, after all, knows about his first visit to her elder brother. She turns to face N'sync, and picks up his hand, tracing the outlines of his fingers with her own as she laughs quietly. "Many? You might say that. I have Morallen, and my younger twin sisters as full siblings, seventeen other half-siblings from my father M'ral, and two from my mother Eidwyn. Eidwyn and M'ral formally weyrmated when I was around, oh, thirteen turns. Da and I get along well, he's actually my primary supplier for good wine, showed up at both my graduations, and fusses over me long-distance. Eidwyn and I... have never really gotten on well. As for my siblings, Morallen and I were best friends growing up. And I currently have three half-sisters here at the weyr right now... Adelheid, Lauria and Seana. Seana is actually a Candidate." she sums up, before kissing N'sync's knuckles quickly and asking "Did you want to Impress, in your Candidacy?"

N'sync's hand tightens over hers as her lips brush across his knuckles. The brownrider shifts, moving to angle his body toward her as well as his gaze. "Of course. My father was a rider, which left me with all the visions of glory, but I was fostered to a hold when I was thirteen, which left me without much of the reality." A short, uncertain pause, and then he continues. "The thought of always having someone was appealing," he admits in quiet tones before he returns the question. "Did you?"

Wyn continues to nuzzle N'sync's hand, now leaning on one elbow and regarding him with her body parallel to his, about two feet away. She uses the time to think, at last commenting that "To tell you the truth, I didn't. It wasn't that I was afraid of dragons... Skies, I grew up being babysat by old Bneth... And it wasn't that I was afraid to fly Fall, or of mating flights or anything else... I was afraid of Impression itself, the act of having another presence suddenly living in your mind." Belatedly, she adds "What are you afraid of?" realizing she's almost forgotten the rules of the game.

N'sync is remarkably focused, given the way she's nuzzling at his hand. His eyes narrow curiously, and his free arm curls under him to prop him upward slightly. "Being alone," he answers promptly, and in the same breath, offers a simple question in response to her answer. "Why?"

"For the longest time, I wasn't entirely sure," admits Wyn, rolling off her elbow and onto her back again, but this time with her head leaning lightly against his chest. "I think I disliked the concept of having my mind simply... taken over... like that. Yes, there was the joy of having a lifemate after that, but I was scared of the initial shock. Brightness and fanfare, everyone said... A sudden dizzying, delirious assault to the senses. To me," she notes. "With the sort of brain I have, that would have been a mind-rape." she sums up, before smiling out in the direction of the ledge. "Vorkoroth... was no fanfare. Why are you afraid of being alone?"

N'sync wastes no time in sliding his arm around Wyn's shoulders and pulling her close as her head rests against his chest. He's silent for a very long moment, one hand trailing across Wyn's upper arm. So long, in fact, that it almost seems as though he's not going to answer. He finally does, though, with a slight shifting of his shoulders that might be a shrug. "I... don't know. I just am." Whether that's an honest answer or not is for Wyn to decide. "If you could do something differently in your life, what would it be?"

Wyn moves the arm trapped between herself and N'sync, and begins gently tracing the contours of shoulder-to-neck-to-throat-to-jaw and back again, breathing slow and steady as her faint scent of redwort and citrus mingles with the duskier undertones of the brownrider. She apparently lets the answer stand, because she replies after not-too-much thought "I'd have told a certain fellow in my past to toss a kitchen drudge, not me. How about you?"

Gooseflesh rises along N'sync's bare skin as Wyn's hand traverses it, and he shifts until he's nearly hovering over her. His breaths are light and quick, and his hand moves to run along Wyn's jawline and then skims lower, down shoulders and further. "I would have told a certain bluerider yes when she mentioned massage oils in the same sentence with me... and her." His head dips forward, intent on delivering a kiss that both distracts... and moves them in a direction far away from questions that are just a little too much for now. Hey. He's new at this.

Wyn will, admittedly, give a reward for his efforts. Which will start by shifting her hands to the back of N'sync's neck again and lifting her lips to his in a lazy, exploratory kiss that deepens with maddening slowness as she leans into him, one hand detaching to fish about her nightstand for those aforementioned oils. "Now that," she murmurs, playing with the laces on her shirt. "Is one thing we can change..."

They certainly aren't going to get anymore questioning done tonight. At the rate they're going, they may not even find a need for those oils. At least, not a need that relates to what they were intended for. N'sync leans down into the kiss, urging her to continue, and his fingers join hers to pluck at her laces. "Who said the past has to haunt you?" he questions lowly before they fall into silence. Apparently, there are better things to do with your lips.