NationStates Jolt Archive

The noise produced by the rushing lizards brought Pushozverek up at his feet in less than a second, standing up with enough care to not kick over the children next to him. The other second, he was already facing in the direction of the rushing mob, long sharp fangs unsheathed and a face revealing extreme discontent at the event. The steady warning roar could be heard quite distinctively despite all the noisy havoc. His upsurge was due to his protective instincts, as he first of all had Vethara to defend, as well as the two little human cubs that were clinging to him. The big winged creature could surely fend for itself in case of any attack.

Vethara, however, smiled and reached out to her canine friend, petting him gently on the neck and whispering something. The aggressive face immediately faded away as the wolf, still in “combat ready” stance looked at the woman, then looked at the mob, and then lay down on the ground again. But he still kept an eye out at all the giant lizards, not leaving any detail out.

“I wonder what they are all up to,” the Archduchess said pensively looking in the direction of the Sakkrans. “I am not well versed in local customs, I'm afraid.”

Okay, so now it's haste. Even more reason to run for it.

* - * - *

Timofeyev notes that, oddly enough, the migration works to his advantage. The Sakkrans have a distinctly, well, authoritarian view of the purpose of cadets in mixed universities, something he learned when he visited over a decade ago. Because of it, dodging charging Sakkrans is not something completely foreign to him, as it is Nathi. Sure, it makes her movements more erratic, but he can use each careful and almost easily planned dodge towards his planned point of intercept without really looking like it.

Plus, she's slowed to a slightly more human speed. That's never a bad thing; it'll still hurt, but not as much. Once the wave of giant lizards pass, he just walks easily, eyes slitted against the sand. Only someone watching particularly close would notice the cold solidity of his face, the concentration hidden behind a mask of complete unsympathy bordering on disdain. Just before Nathi passes, that's when he makes his move, lunging in front of her, shoulders going for her midsection as arms wrap around in a textbook tackle.

Other than a professional martial artist's 'huff' as he puts all his energy into it, he doesn't make a sound.

Kiara was about to launch into a short description of the Valley of Dragons incident when the giant lizards charge the beach, and her explanation turns into a startled yelp. Almost instinctively she snaps a magical barrier of sorts over the small group, sand spilling upwards and fusing into a rough sandstone lattice. Not enough to block the sand the charge kicks up, but sturdy enough for the Sakkrans to run on top of without accidentally trampling the kids or the Archduchess.

Tsunami loses her perch when the Keeper jumps to her feet; the little mechanical dragon landing with a muffled yelp headfirst in the sand next to the wolf.

It takes Kiara a moment to realize the charge has passed, and she peers at the others under her barrier. "Uh.... whoops. Bit of a reflex... or something."

Now that she's paying attention, it actually takes her longer to dispell the barrier than it took her to raise it. The rough sandstone collapses back into the sand fragments that formed it, leaving the group standing in a shallow depression surrounded by 2 foot mounds of sand.

"Heh..." Kiara chuckles nervously. "Instant sand castle, anyone?"

The fact that the Sakkrans did somehow end up "running them over" did come as a complete surprise to the Archduchess, namely because she deemed everybody at a relatively safe distance from the charging mobs. But then again, the sudden sand shield atop of them came as even a bigger surprise.

Fluff was again up on his feet, roaring angrily and glaring at the distancing lizards, sharp fangs revealed again. And when the creatures were far enough, he gave Vethara the sort of “no threat et auwl, eh?” look. But then his attention was attracted by the little mechanical creature next to him, which he gently poked with his nose trying to see if it was still functioning or not.

“I have to admit that was most unexpected,” Vethara blinked, feeling a little silly for believing she could just sit there with the children near a crowd of rushing Sakkrans. “Nice work on the sand castle. You shall have to teach me the trick one of these days, Kiara.”

On the beachfront, scores of massive kettle-drums are brought up to where the water meets the sand. The males that had been bellowing and carrying on use the ends of their tails to beat on the drums, two to each and one to hold the drum on their back. A heady, primitive rhythm seems to envelope the air.

In the water, the females continue swimming. Thress had gotten swept up in the doings, abandoning the game of tag for her ritualistic duties. This ceremony had nearly been forgotten by her due to the excitement, but as soon as the bellowing began and the charge had been initiated, she dove right into the water, making her the first and farthest out. Drawing on the memories of past events she had been able to attend when duty to the Empire didn't supercede ritual attendance, she looked about underwater for the familiar trail.

In the distance, her tympanum picked up a faint sound. Eyesight wasn't terribly useful down here, so she relied on her hearing to guide her. From the sound ahead, it was either something extremely large, or a cloud of many things swimming in a unified fashion. Just might be what i'm looking for. She adjusted her trajectory to dive deeper.

Ilaan blinks a little as Joel slaps his hands together, and looks to be in thought for a moment, trying to call up some example of said behavior in species or groups on Kajal. The best she can come up with, unfortunately, is a worker's union.

"Oh, you mean like the unions whenever contracts are up for renewal!"

Sera practically falls face first into her hands, though Ilaan uncharacteristically cuts short.

"You know, I feel like I should apologize to him. I think that was probably the dumbest thing I'd said all week..."

She looks around for a moment, before asking.

"Uh, where exactly did he go?"

"He's coming up behind you, Il... Oh... dear gods!"

Sera goes wide eyed at the sight of so many Sakkrans practically stampeding across the beach, and Ilaan shrieks as some pass perhaps closer than she expected.

"Um... I'm going to go apologize... before I get run over, or anything."

Luckily for Ilaan, the running bit seems to be over, followed by another related ritual that she knows nothing about. She jogs out to where Bondayehr is, looking perhaps a little startled, still, and attempts to be a little less blunt this time.

"Hi, uh... I'd like to apologize. I realize that what I said was just downright rude and offensive, and I'm sorry."

If that goes over, well, maybe she'll talk at him about that time she caused a national tragedy. Of course, her timing could be better, as halfway through reciting that, Bondayehr has tackled the Dread Lady Nathicana.

Ilaan hadn't met Nathicana before. She also didn't know if Bondayehr even heard her.

Meanwhile, Sera keeps watching the Sakkrans and whatever it is they're doing, and leans over towards Joel.

"So, uh, what exactly are they doing?"

By the time she noticed the tag player hurtling wildly towards her there was very little Élisabeth could do. Squeaking with fright, the noblewoman flinched back into the safety of Damian’s strong arms, quivering fearfully on the tip of her toes. She hid her face in his neck, squeezing shut her large eyes as she brushed her fragrantly-scented hair against his cheek.

When the crash came Élisabeth winced a little, grasping at Lord Nefarious involuntarily with hands tightened into dainty fists. Cautiously peering out from Damian with some uncertainness, she saw the Scolopedran lying upon the sand.

‘Are you alright?’ the Baroness gasped in a faint voice, all of a tremble in Damian’s arms. Pressed up against him, he could feel her startled heart still beating furiously in her breast.

Élisabeth’s rapidly-blinking eyes found cause to cast their glance from Shorty to the Dread Lady. The expression on her countenance was momentarily unguarded, conveying the most indignant contempt. On the whole, it was probably rather fortunate that Nathicana had chosen not to stay around.

‘Inconsiderate twit...’ the noblewoman murmured before turning back to her companion.

As she gently drew away from Lord Nefarious, a knowing crimson flush shot over Élisabeth’s delicate features. Her hair seemed all in the most admirable disorder and her eyes glittered with a strange delight. The giant cat handed Élisabeth her business card and the latter managed a courteous smile. She was not all that certain what to do with it.

‘Yes, the games seem to have turned very rowdy indeed,’ the Baroness observed to Damian as Shorty politely took her leave. She flashed a sneering look at the Dread Lady before putting the latter firmly out of her mind.

Absentmindedly tugging with a few curled fingers at his upper sleeve, the noblewoman leaned closer to Damian.

‘Thank goodness she’s gone,’ Élisabeth murmured in Lord Nefarious’ ear, finally judging the Scolopedran to be at a safe distance. ‘Heavens, how that great cat bored me, bored me to extinction.’

Nathi is completely oblivious to the Baroness's state of offense, though she thought she might have recognized Nefarious in passing. A quick mental note is made to touch base with him later and offer an apology for interrupting like she did, but no sooner is said not made than she finds herself going ass over teakettle as she's taken down by the slight yet solid Bondayehr.

Now damp and covered with sand in a most likely un-Dread-Ladylike position, she looks with surprise at who's managed the tackle.

"Tim, what the hell? I thought you were off sightseeing?" she manages, breathing heavily, no heat at all in her amused query.

=*=*=*=*=*=

The twins were impressed already with Kiara, and are still looking with surprise at the Sakkran spectacle when the barrier goes up.

"Ooooooooh ... do it again!" they shout excitedly, amidst other commentary about how cool that all was, and 'did you see that' questions to the group as a whole.

The all-too-human lieutenant colonel is, to say the least, winded after taking down someone measurably denser than he is and going faster than any unaugmented baseline has any right to go. This is especially true when her arm catches him just below the stomach during the tackle. Still, one doesn't show weakness in public. "You're it," he says once he feels he has enough breath to sound vaguely normal, disentangling himself from the Dread Lady and (for whatever stupid reason) offering a hand up, "yahughnost'ss 'Sraap zhu kzintscuts' wtunu Hgriihprughnp 's'eenjaatku.*" A little bit of Mocking tone never hurt anyone.

After that bit, he gets unusually quiet as he works at getting his wind back. So he's just sort of looking at Ilaan, trying to figure out what the hell she wants, and probably looking a good deal more serious than he means to. He was only half paying attention before the tackle, but somewhere in all this I heard 'apologize' and 'sorry.'

"Accepted," with a nod that's curt because he's trying not to flounder like a fish out of water. Oh, geez, of all the times... now how do I say the next part with as few words as possible? Shouldn't have said my bit for consort and House. "Details aren't well known. Common mistake."

He smiles. It looks forced, because it is, just like he's forcing his eyes to be comfortably open instead of bulging out like those of people hit in the solar plexus usually do. If I keep this up I may just pass out.

Meanwhile, G'reer cackles to himself and turns away from where the three are, loving it when a plan comes together.

* "and I the honor of House Hgriih avenged" (lit.), "and I have avenged the honor of House Hgriih" (figurative). The Superior-Inferior (Mocking) tone of the Hero's Tongue uses a SOV word order as opposed to the Factual (and English) SVO order.

After Ilaan gets up and trots off, Joel shuffles himself to sit in the sand next to Sera, mostly to get a better look at what's going on at the shore. "Hmmmm...lemme see if I remember what ol' Leatherback told me about this. Hmm...."

One hand goes to his head in a motion of one trying earnestly to remember. Then his hand drops as his head picks up. "Ah, yes. Ever since the Sakkran's recorded history after shipwrecking on this planet, if that's what it can be called, they've noted the patterns of most animals in the area. This includes migratory patterns of some sealife. Every five years, it seems a sizeable school of blackfin tuna follows some unknown migratory route that passes fairly close to here. As you can guess, sealife that prey on the tuna tend to follow, one of these things being the blue marlin (http://marinebio.org/upload/_05/Makaira_nigricans1.jpg). Normally the marlin hunt solo instead of in schools or packs, but I guess with the amount of tuna around, they gather up and hunt."

Joel points out the males drumming with their tails. "It's traditional for the females to take on warrior and hunter roles for ceremonial gatherings, being larger and stronger than the males. That's why they are doing the hunting. The males signal to them from here with the drums so they don't lose track of where they are and get lost at sea. The sound of the drum carries through the ground and into the sea quite well. Today is the high point of the migration for the tuna, and the marlin as a result. The Game Commission has been tracking this route for two weeks now in anticipation of today."

By this time, in the sea, a pair of females has caught up with Thress, who points to indicate the school of tuna already passing by a short distance off. She signals with her fingers, and one breaks off over the school while the other two go underneath it. It's quite a massive grouping of fast-swimming fish who barely dodge as the Sakkran females approach en mass. A subsonic pulse is let out, causing a deviation in the school of tuna, but only slightly. The female who swam over the school managed to grab onto a marlin by the tail, and was now struggling as the fish fought and tried to lance her with his spear-like nose.

The other female swam up fast, and managed to clasp both arms around the base of the marlin's head, attempting to restrict its movement with a small measure of success. It was Thress who dealt the end blow as she swam up with a closed fist and brought it down on the marlin's head, square between the eyes. This caused the marlin to become stunned and quite docile. The two assisting females grabbed their prize by each fin on opposite sides of its body while Thress swam behind, making sure no-one, either Sakkran or other predatory fish, tried to steal their plunder.

Lord Nefarious, as much taken aback by the sudden interruption as the Baroness, was less verbal in his rebuttals. Despite that, he could not help a small smile at his companion’s reaction. Of course, he made sure that she did not see the amused look on his face. Instead she was greeted with a concerned frown, as he looked at her.

“I am perfectly fine, Baroness. I hope that you did not suffer anything more than a little inconvenience in the situation.” Damien’s features softened into a smile, though his eyes still conveyed that look of concern. “It would seem that we need to find a safer location. Shall we move a little further along the beach and find somewhere to sit?”

As he finished speaking, he looked over at the others playing tag, making sure that at least for the time being, the Baroness was out of harms way. He was intrigued by the woman and certainly did not want to see her disappear any time soon, especially due to what amounted to nothing more than a game.

He bent down to retrieve the few drinks that were still on the floor beside them, then offered his arm to Élisabeth. “I would like to hear more about Xirnium and yourself,” he continued. He was a little sorry that the Scolopendran had left so suddenly, as it had been an experience for him, but he was sure that he would have opportunity again.

Putting all other thoughts aside, he focused his attentions on the Baroness and began to look around for a less hazardous place for them to sit.

For her appearance, Ilaan would seem, well... augmented. The truth of the matter is, of course, that unfortunately for anyone who'd be willing to place bets as to which part of her is fake, the only thing that really qualifies is that smile she gives at press conferences or whenever a particularly annoying intern ruins her day.

No, Ilaan's augments are not cosmetic, or at the least, that one that is was corrective. She's boosted, yes, though it's a sort of leftover from what must be a few decades ago now, and they're really not all that impressive on a planet like Earth.

Not to say she couldn't try to keep up with one of the Sakkrans. She might be able to manage it for a little bit, if she dared, but then again, it'd be easier for her to catch someone like Nathicana than anything.

None of this, of course, stops her from looking confused for a moment.

"She's... it? Oh, _that's_ why everyone's... May I?"

Perhaps it's a completely boneheaded thing to ask about. And, of course, if the answer is "Yes!", it'll probably be followed by a tackle or a pat or _something_ and a "You're it."

At which point, of course, she would absolutely have to give chase. She'd also have to follow rules, which would involve chasing, well, someone else.

In such an event, she could just tap Bondayehr and run off shrieking, but that wouldn't be at all sporting.

After all, going by the clipped speech and the general look about him, even though he is quite good at hiding it, it doesn't seem like he'd have a good time actually trying to chase anyone within the next few moments.

Meanwhile, the servants that had accompanied the two Kajali to the beach are all of nowhere to be found, seeing as their charges have largely abandoned them.

Kiara grins sheepishly. "Ur... the instructors at the School in our northern territories are better at the teaching bit. Mostly it's... well, just manipulating what's already there. Like all this sand... it's mostly tiny pebbles of quartz. With the Arts, it's not too hard to take lots of little bits of something and make them a bigger something." She indicates the crystal that generates the light dragon. "That's how I made that, really. Well, with a little touch of extra oomph to make it emit light and stuff."

It takes Tsunami a moment to pull loose of the sand, which she does with a goofy tumble that puts the 2 foot long mechanical dragon sitting flat on her tail. "I'm okay!" Then she realizes she's snout-to-nose with that big wolf Kiara was admiring earlier. "Uh... hi there?"

At the children's gush of how that was soooo cool, Kiara blushes, turning her face (and most of her exposed skin straight down to where her scales start) scarlet. "Hey, I shouldn't do all the work! Maybe.... we could all build something?"

"A long time ago," Vethara said pensively, "my people were also quite capable and adept at manipulating the unseen forces of nature. Some are still adept, and the knowledge is maintained by the Church of the Seven Deities. But generally, modern Taraskovyans think that a nuclear hand grenade is much spiffier than a fireball. Few ones are interested in the Old Arts, as they call them."

She smiled, thinking back to some of the "magic" she had seen during her lifetime. She even knew how to cast some trivial things, even if her education concentrated more on the abilities of the "human" body to survive in hostile conditions and terminate ennemies than various metaphysical things.

After spending some time getting her family together, Kairis decided to simply relax. A new conversation might find her once she made herself available and, if it didn't, some peace on the beach would also be nice. As Petros returned to his father, she obtained a towel and found a spot safely away from all the physical running and jumping to spread it out. She lay down and sighed slightly, stretching her moderately plump form out in the hot sun.

Kairis was firmly convinced that few things felt as good to a human being as a the warmth of the sun on their skin, at least in appropriate conditions. However, she couldn't remember the last time she had simply lain in the sunlight. It was always the fleeting warmth of her face and hands as she moved from appointment to appointment. It was nice to get to genuinely relax some and to do it in the guise of diplomacy. She glanced around briefly for persons of interest, her eyes briefly settling on the two Xirniumite women, the Sakkrans themselves, the Scolopendrans and the Emperor and Empress of Menelmacar and the Necrontyr Empire. She smiled. God was in his heaven and all was right with the world.

It’s all fun and game ‘til someone gets their eye put out, or in this case, tries to knock down a moving barricade. Damn stubborn son of a …

Nathi gratefully accepts the hand up offered by the ‘Pendran, while trying not to add much to his state of discomfort in the act. “I really do need to make the effort to learn that language one of these days … that or ask Shodey to help me cheat,” she murmurs under her breath.

She knows well enough how Bondayehr feels about some things, and though she hasn’t a clue about the context, judges this a perfect time to not pry and let the discomfort of whatever was being discussed between the two pass without commentary. Instead, she takes advantage of the situation, reaches out to pat Ilaan on the shoulder, smiling warmly.

“Of course you may. Tag, then? I think I’ll take a break from the chase for a bit, and fetch my rather cunning adversary a well-deserved drink though, if you don’t mind. Feel free to give the impressive and downright devious ratcat out there a good run, neh? You’ve got a Keeper, a couple of SP’s, and various others who’ve been in and out of the chase. I may join up again after a little breather.”

Extending her arm to Timofeyev, she tilts her head in the direction of the refreshments. “Might I offer something to cool off with whilst savoring your victory?” she asks, for now avoiding any public fuss-making over his well being, though her eyes betray her usual concern.

=*=*=*=*=

“Mama brought some sand toys,” Naiya offers at Kiara’s suggestion of building something, though she looks up curiously at the two ladies, moreso now that Vethara has also alluded to magic-use, though her questions remain unspoken.

Marcus laughs, teasingly pushing some sand over the end of Fluff’s paw. “We could always bury—“ he begins, earning him a smack on the hand from his sister, who scowls at him and gently brushes the sand back off.

“No.”

“You’re no fun,” he grumbles, then gets a slightly sly look. “Still, I bet I could build a bigger castle than you.”

“We’ll see,” she replies archly. “Is that what you meant, Miss Kiara? Sand castles and things? I guess it's safe while the Sakkrans are out swimming.”

Ilaan does a few little warm-up stretches, though one of them produces a weird, not-quite-biological clicking noise. From what she can see, the kzin mentioned is, well... somewhere, while the rest of the participants are largely engaged in evasive maneuvers a fair distance away.

"Alright, then... Let's see who's next..."

Ilaan bends down into a sprinter's starting position, and then she's off, more or less headed directly towards the group before suddenly veering off towards G'reer. The kzin has probably seen her approach by now, of course, and while she may not be as fast as Nathi, it's probably pretty close.

She might be able to catch him if he makes a mistake, but she keeps an eye out for any other participants that might get within range rather quickly. For now, she keeps on chasing G'reer, though obviously not in a straight line, since there's likely no way she'd actually even manage to keep up that way...

So, for the moment, Ilaan is veering in between encampments and across fair stretches of beach towards the current target. If someone comes close enough, well, then she's veering and taking the target of opportunity. After all, those entitled to No Tagbacks aren't currently in the game.

G'reer glances back towards Ilaan and Nathi and Tim; keeping an eye on the group won't hurt anyone. Situational awareness is the key to seapower... hrr hrr hrr... He notices the tag and gets ready for some sprinting, but not until anyone comes too close; it's not Heroic to merely run away at the first opportunity to do so. Much better to play chicken with the diesel locomotive of destiny. When she kneels to go into a sprint, he tenses a little more, then slows, staring just a little bit more. Then she's off like a shot, and he's really not going any faster than an absent-minded trot, despite watching her approach unblinkingly.

Maybe just a little loose-jawed, but that's probably from a Hero used to keeping himself slack and ready for action.

* - * - *

Timofeyev watches Ilaan make her departure, wincing a bit in sympathy (and real) pain as she runs off, then follows along with Nathi, leaning a bit heavily on her arm but through his bearing not letting it show. "That'd be great," he says with unusual shortness, moving just a bit more stiffly than normal here and there. Things that can easily be blamed on how hot and shifty the sand is.

Nathi casts a look back over her shoulder at Ilaan, and the too-slowly retreating G’reer, and slows a bit herself, one brow arching curiously. She ponders for a moment, then turns back to Bondayehr with a thoughtful expression.

He’s seeming a bit more worse for wear than he’s letting on, in her estimation, and she does her best to support him without seeming to as they make their way towards the food and refreshments. Seeing an opportunity to attempt to make some sort of amends for earlier antics, she slows, though doesn’t stop, being more concerned about the boy than she wants to let on.

“Lord Nefarious,” she says as they approach the couple on their way back, drawing herself up slightly and taking on the demeanor she usually saved for the office. “My sincere apologies for having been so careless while engaged in play earlier. I hope that neither you nor your lovely companion were overly inconvenienced or hurt in any way on account. It has been a while since I was able to cut loose and relax so to speak, and I am afraid I became a bit caught up in the fun of it all.”

All delivered with a pleasant yet reserved smile, and a slight nod of the head as they pass. “And my further apologies for speaking only in passing. That last run rather took the wind out of me, and the good lieutenant colonel was kind enough to offer his assistance back to shade and refreshment. Perhaps we’ll have the opportunity to speak later over a glass of wine? Until then, again, my apologies. I hope that you both enjoy yourselves.”

Going a bit further, figuring from the expression and demeanor of the Tartaran Lord’s decidedly self-important companion that they wouldn’t be given a second thought, Nathicana leans in a bit and looks up at the rather taller man at her side and murmurs quietly.

“Ok, cut the crap, boy. Just how bad are you hurting from that stunt, and do I need to go get Shorty to help make sure you take it easy and let me make sure you’re going to be ok?” Already she had several options in mind should he again choose to be typically self-effacing and stubborn about things, the most immediate being taking the initiative and carrying his ass over to the shade to recuperate.

The good White Knight, gone very gray along the edges and in the soul over the course of the past decade, staggers along with Nathi as unstaggeringly as he can. Moving about requires more concentration as he tries very hard to get his wind back and suppress the associated stridor, which essentially means inhaling very, very carefully. He manages a polite nod and smile, albeit both seem somewhat distant, when he and Nathi pass the two nobles.

Just a matter of time, will be fine... damn, why can't I clear this up? It's been perhaps a minute or two; this is all highly irregular. Ah well, I've had worse. At least I'm not up in a tree this time. "Lucky hit--wind knocked out is all," he says thinly down to the Dread Lady, forcing a slight smile. "Just need sit down before passing out."

And that's when the tunnel-vision starts. Right on bloody cue... Being far enough away from everyone else to get away with it, Timofeyev lets himself gasp like a fish, raspy stridor be damned.

“Right then, that does it,” Nathi says quietly, figuring consequences be damned. “Lucky hit? I wasn’t trying to gut-smash you, you silly bastard.”

In as smooth a motion as she can manage – and as gently – she goes to sweep him up in her arms, regardless of how silly it might look, firmly intent on carrying him off someplace quiet, shaded, with a comfy chair to relax in, with drinks or whatever else was required to assist soon following.

All this accompanied with a quiet muttering in her native tongue about how he should have known better to have pulled something like that, why the hell he’d do something so foolish over a damn game, and so on, though the heat of it seems directed more to herself than him for being, however inadvertently, the reason why he’s looking on the verge of collapse now.

Goddamn stubborn honor-bound ‘Pendrans.

Timofeyev doesn't have Nathi's wired reflexes so he's off his feet and in her arms before he has time to react. This plays hell with some rusty combat reflex training, so he spasms about a bit in surprise before settling in. Still, being closer to prone does wonders for that whole trying-not-to-pass-out thing, and he finally allows himself to relax a bit. Sure, he can show weakness, now that the issue's been forced. Damned presumptuous Dominioner.

"Didn't say you meant to," he says with that extra bit of wind, "doesn't change the fact it was lucky." As for Nathi's grumbling, well, he knows Italian. And can respond in the same. "Hell, that I took you down at all is a victory." Pause for breath. "Sacrifice yourself for the game." Another pause. "Plus, after steamrolling Shorty..."

He nestles in, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible.

The perhaps not-so-Dread-at-the-moment Lady cradles her friend gently – one might even say protectively, even through his initial reactionary struggles, until she gets him to a shaded, relatively quiet spot with a free lounge chair.

“I didn’t mean to do that either,” she mutters, getting him all settled in. “But I won’t deny, mi amico, that it was a well-executed, and downright sneaky attack – bravo, mio cavaliere bianco. Victory is indeed yours. Now I don’t suppose there’s some archaic Kzin method of apology I’m going to have to go through to make up for any embarrassment on her part that I ought to know about? God knows I wouldn’t want to either make a fool of her, or deny her any satisfaction of honor … but still. Teach me to keep my eyes open better I suppose.”

Fussing a bit more and adjusting a handy towel a bit as a makeshift pillow, she looks over the young man with a critical eye. “Now, can I get you something to drink, or eat, or anything? Heat or ice pack for any sore spots? One of your ‘Pendran magi-fixes from a pack somewhere? Your lovely lady? All of the above? Taking the piss out of your big fuzzy friend is simply going to have to wait, damn his hide. But I’ll find a way … oh yes, I will find a way …”

That the last bit is delivered with a telltale mischievous smile and a sidelong glance towards the ‘tosh in question can only mean trouble – at least for him.

There are no complaints from the youngish man as a chair gets commandeered and various fussings happen to him. There's not much he can do to help but relax, so relax he does. "Ritualistic apology? Oh no." Bondayehr chuckles weakly. "I did that for you with the tackle. You surprise-tumbled her, I surprise-tumbled you. Fair is fair." He stretches out a bit in the lawn chair, nursing what's going to become an annoying but not particularly bad bruise. "Of course, you could just say you're sorry with your head tilted back in that imperatrice way you've got, except more so." He demonstrates, tapping his larynx. "Exposes the throat. Sign of submission."

Settling in, he thinks for a moment as to what Nathi can get for him. "Well, I figure something a little alcoholic's in order." The blood-thinning properties of alcohol won't make a jot of difference to the bruise, really. "Icepack wrapped up in a towel to prevent freezerburn is good, too. We've already elevated the trouble point, so icepack, compression, and rest. Maybe some munchies to slow the alcohol absorption and thus the dessication involved, and plenty of fluids on the side." He smiles mischievously. "It's not often I get to be waited on, especially by you, so let's go all out."

Nathi arches a brow slightly at the throat explanation. “Now wait a moment. That arrogant bit translates entirely different to Kzin? How in hell have I missed that one in between all the rest? No doubt Speeks has been laughing his fuzzy ass off at me for it all along,” she grumbles, mostly good-naturedly.

“So. Icepack, booze, munchies, water and juices, not a problem. Best enjoy it while you can, boy,” she says with a sly wink. “Only way you’ll get the like again would breakfast in bed. And something tells me you’d be about as eager for that as you would be to play diplomat to the old Ardan home guard. You rest yourself up, and I’ll be back with the goods.”

As she makes her way back towards the food table she scans the area she left the kids at again, seeing them still safely with the Keeper and company. All is well for now, which works out just fine. Tend to Tim, apologize to Shorty, let her know where he’s at, and go gather the little ones to make sure they eat, all in short order should all go well.

The spectacle of the Sakkrans has not been lost on her, though she isn’t entirely sure what’s going on out in the water that caused such a fuss. Several options run through her mind, several being discounted as she thinks further on it, winding her way through the crowd.

She keeps a sharp eye out for Shorty – and for G’reer, or anyone else that might be plotting mischief – as she searches out someone with a tray that she can borrow, gradually filling it with the required items, making sure said munchies are varied between fruits and meats and dessert treats and good old fun junk food that’s simply nice to snack on.

"Oh, I don't figure His Fuzzy Holiness laughs at you for it," Bondayehr says with a wink, "maybe a chuckle now and then, but not pounding-the-floor laughing." Relaxing a bit in the chair, he makes himself comfortable for once. "Yup, that stuff will do fine." At her 'breakfast in bed' line he merely sighs and mutters something about all show and no go.

In Arabic, of course.

With nothing else to do--it'd probably be taken amiss if he wandered off--he just watches the scenery and listens to the waves. As well as the Marlin-hunt. That's a sight to see.

* - * - *

Meanwhile, on the one hand, G'reer for some reason seems to think going still slower is a good idea. Teasing ratcat. On the other hand, Shorty is currently inside Lightning Bug scrubbing her stomach with cold water and some soap. No real problems there, and it probably won't take her more than a few minutes to clean up.

Ilaan has, of course, noticed that G'reer is running even slower now, though she's not really slowing down. There is, perhaps, a reason for this, given that Ilaan's attire is not exactly supportive, though she's focused for the moment and trying to ignore the semi-independent actions of her bosom.

Once she seems to be close enough - and she certainly thinks she is, there's a rather aggressive shriek, and then, Ilaan's sailing through the air towards G'reer.

She'd heard about something called "Scream and Leap" before. Now, she'd probably figure out why it wasn't always tactically sound.

T-minus thirty seconds to impact

Well, it would be somewhat unfair to the good half-named submarine commander to say he's concentrating on Ilaan's Baywatch breasts (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IuYrRebvFHc) (although other people in the audience could perhaps be forgiven for doing so). No, just a steady gaze somewhere between uncanny jungle hunter and slack-jawed yokel.

T-minus ten seconds to impact
TCAS, TRAFFIC, EVADE LEFT. TCAS, TRAFFIC, EVADE LEFT.

Okay, now he's obviously staring at her chest, amongst other things. The 'tosh, for whatever reason, slows down.

T-minus five seconds to impact
TCAS, TRAFFIC, EXPEDITE EVADE LEFT. EXPEDITE EVADE LEFT.

G'reer comes to a full and complete stop. It is now safe to let arms and legs hang out of the ride.

T-minus one second to impact
TCAS, TRAFFIC, GODDAMMIT DO SOMETHING

He doesn't.

Impact

Like a wet paper bag.

T-plus three-point-seven-six seconds

G'reer-Captain's eyes get as big as platters and he bolts towards the cold Pacific Ocean at superhuman speed.

Thress's head surfaces just a wee bit, showing only nostrils and her eyes as well as the dome of her skull. The rest of her body stays submerged. Her right hand signals the 'all clear' underwater to her hunting partners. She gets to shoulders over the surface as she spots Ilaan's pendulous bobbers manage to tackle the K'zin. She manages to stifle a sharp laugh as the other members of her unofficial troupe bring the now-defeated and thoroughly subdued marlin out of the water, and begin trekking towards the site of the massive grills under the tents.

The males drumming at the shoreline kick up with a loud series of roars, catcalls and hooting at the sight of the first successful hunters returning. The massive fish is brought out to the grills, dressed and cleaned and the chefs take control of that whole matter. Soon enough, the other hunters reurn with a myriad of prey. More marlins, armfuls of squid, some black-fin tuna and several loads of lobsters and crabs by those not as inclined towards speed in the chase. the procession takes 20 minutes to complete their return and all heads are accounted for.

Turning from putting another tidbit on her platter, Nathi catches the takedown out of the corner of her eye, and idly tries to figure out what in hell the big ‘tosh had been thinking – which leads her further down some interesting paths of reasoning she’d been turning over in her head since earlier in the day. Taking a bit of something that looks tasty for herself, she chews thoughtfully, not bothering to hide the mischievous smile that’s been building for some time now.

At all the ruckus being made by the males, and the emergence of the females, the point of all the fuss in the water finally becomes clear, and her stomach growls a bit in anticipation. Growing up on the coast, seafood had always been a favorite, and with the increased drain her augments put on her system, she had even more opportunity to sample, especially when she’d been burning it up at a rapid pace due to things like the game of tag.

The kids noticed it all as well, jumping up and making noise right along with the sakkrans. It’s noise, it’s fun, and it’s what kids do. Of course watching the huge lizards take their catch up towards the grills draws their attention to the rest of the people away from the water, including their mother. All the excitement and play has taken it’s toll on them as well, though not as keenly, and they wave excitedly to the dark-haired woman, who smiles broadly and waves back, then motions them on over.

“Let’s eat!” Marcus yells, first losing his footing as he tries to avoid stumbling into Fluff, who he pauses to pet reflexively, then gets set to dash off.

Naiya grabs the back of his swimming trunks, and they both end up landing on their backsides in the sand, accusations and hurried explanations flying fast between them in their native tongue.

“Mama always says manners, Marcus,” Naiya finally says, getting to her feet, and tilting up her little chin in a fair approximation of her mother, hands settling on her hips after she brushes herself off a bit.

Sheepishly, Marcus gets up as well, toeing the sand and looking up at the adults, his own chin down. “Sorry … thank you Miss Vethara, and Miss Kiara, and Tsunami.”

“Thank you for letting us play, and showing us magic, and petting Fluff,” Naiya adds, “And thank you, Ivan – wanna play more after we eat?”

“Yeah, Ivan – we’ll be over with mama. Just come get us when you’re ready,” Marcus says enthusiastically, forgetting his temporary irritation at his sister’s intervention.

And with another round of thanks, the two noisily scamper off, unsurprisingly competing to see who can reach Nathicana first. They get there close enough to the same time to spark a brief argument that’s quickly reduced to guarded dirty looks and stuck-out tongues by their mother’s reprimand – when she isn’t watching of course. Two more plates are filled and carefully carried back along with the platter containing food for at least five adults to where Bondayehr is relaxing.

“Before you start, I figured I’d pick up some for Shorty should she come by here first, and I’m da—deucedly hungry,” she says with a smile, setting things up within easy reach, then getting the kids settled in so they can eat too.

Easier said than done, of course.

“Whatcha doin, Zio Timo?” Marcus asks, peering around his mother as she tries to get him seated.

Naiya takes the opportunity to walk over and wrap her little arms around Bondayehr in an awkward little hug, given the angle. “Are you ok?” she inquires, suddenly looking up at him, her brow furrowed, and big blue eyes looking slightly confused for no apparent reason.

With food being served now in full, Speaker-Rrit hops up to get a platter of his own, to be duly shared with his consort leaning back and simply enjoying the ocean air. It's rare to ever see a cat turn down seafood, and, something like Nathi, this ratcat is nothing different. He would feel bad that he didn't do anything to help catch it, never quite catching on to what was going on anyway, but hey. Ol' Leatherneck invited him over, he's a guest, it's being freely offered, and so it's all good.

'Sides, Speaker's never been a particularly good fishertosh, neither by hand nor by line. Razak has some knee-slapping stories concerning attempts to teach the latter technique and how it almost always devolved into mostly successful attempts at the former. The one time he actually did manage to catch a fish on the fin with his hands it was about three centimeters long. Speaker's argument is that such a catch just required that much more skill; Julius holds firm on his opinion that the 'tosh just got lucky.

Ancient history aside, the Supreme Emperor meets the Dread Lady on the opposite side of the come-'n-get-it table with a bow and a flick of the ears. "Been having fun, hrrrmmm?" He chuckles and helps himself to a modest chunk of marlin. "I see our dutiful colonel avenged his family honor. No hard feelings, I hope?" He chuckles and winks. "Too bad Julius could not make it. He would have been duly impressed."

After this bit of friendly banter, he sees Nathi on her way before returning to H'zta. "Interesting day, no?"

"Wonderful day for people-watching," she replies before snagging a bit of marlin off the tray the 'tosh carries and tossing it into her mouth, gently sucking on it through her teeth. "For example, the good heir of House Hgriih. I think the Sky Marshal may have rubbed off on her."

"Hrr? I saw her speaking with those two... I am afraid I only recognized Mister Nefarious."

"The other's from a monarchy slowly moving towards our orbit, mostly twice-removed from us via various trading agreements and the NDA. Probably worth getting to know."

"So you can turn a profit, my little CEO?"

H'zta chuckles, not least because she's got a good five centimeters on Speaker. "I can do just fine without Federal help. We simply like meeting new people, no? Being friendly is a national trait."

"Hrrrr. I see I will have to ask Nadjiba what she has been plotting. Working behind me is not her style." Speaker chuckles and relaxes back on his beach chair. "As well as it has the best interests of the people at heart, I suppose..."

* - * - *

Timofeyev folds his hands behind his head, easily suppressing a momentary wince while he does so. Just a bruise, no big deal. He's always particularly liked the sound of the surf and the breeze is pleasant, so he closes his eyes and loses himself in the moment as he does far too rarely. Then Nathi and her kids show up, and it's time to go back on stage.

"Hrm, she'd better show up, then," Bondayehr says in response to D'Aquisto's explanation, looking with feigned disinterest over the tremendous amount of food. As it stands, he's still a wiry, skinny person with a metabolism that doesn't quit, so right now he's giving Pavlov's dogs a run for their money, even if there's nary a bell to be seen. "Wouldn't do to see any of that go to waste.

"Just sittin', Mark," he replies to the inquisitive boy. "Sittin' and enjoyin' the waves and breeze, among other things. Appreciating the moment, as it were."

A hug given must of course be a hug returned, albeit with one arm for the honorary niece. It's quite possible the need to once again stifle a wince at such movement, or more particularly some sort of subconscious physical reaction of his, is the trigger for her confusion, but Timofeyev's seen this one too many times and, all things considered from what he can't help but have seen and heard over the past decade persref, has her pegged as a reader. "Oh yeah, quite okay." He smirks good-naturedly.

Of course, by this point, everyone immediately adjacent probably knows him well enough to know that as long as he's going to draw breath for the foreseeable future, he'll gladly ascribe to the nondescriptive appellation 'okay.' "Your mother hits like a freight train, but that's what I get for going for the tackle. No permanent harm done, no foul, and I wouldn't take it back. Anyway, Nath, about that ice...?"

He looks up at Nathi and grins, just a little bit of teeth, and a wink. He can tease back, after all.

Midriff freshly shampooed, Shorty reenters the scene looking inordinately pleased with herself and not a bit worse for the wear, despite being tumbled about rather brusquely earlier. She does glance rather slyly at Nathi as she approaches, tensing now and then, until Timofeyev simply says "'Sraap ts'oowfi kzaii." She sniffs at the air, visibly shrugs in a remarkably human way, and pulls up a seat, looking inordinately pleased with herself.

* - * - *

G'reer-Captain dives, comes back up for air, and dives again, making sure he gets good and cold before he comes back out. That could've been embarrassing.

Kiara grins and waves the kids off to go get their chow. "My pleasure. Don't be too hard on your mom now, kay?"

She stretches as she stands up in the sand, though the effect looks slightly comical with her wings halfway unfurled and her tail stretching almost straight out behind her for a moment.

"Not that I need to worry about it-" Tsunami addresses the remaining group. "-But I'm sure the chibis aren't the only ones ready for some food."

"Mm, yeah, I could go for some of that marlin they brought in. Geez, that had to be a sight to see from the air!" Kiara agrees, glancing over at Vethara and Fluff. "Well, shall we make like the kids and get a well-deserved lunch?"

Luceh had the advantage of being up in the air when the lizards charged the beach earlier, so she was able to watch some of the hunt from overhead. Never one to turn down a feast, she turns out of the thermal she was riding and glides toward the grills. Thankfully this time she doesn't do the divebomb-and-grab like she did at the bar earlier, and settles to a landing far enough from the 'kitchen' that her wings buffeting the air don't knock sand into any of the food.

Flying takes energy, after all, even when one's lazily riding existing air currents!

"Lunch sounds wonderful," Vethara said, giving a look around her and noting all the cooking and food being served. She then leant a bit and ruffled Fluff's head. "I am sure my friend here is starving again already."

The wolf gave the woman a "whatever you say" kind of look and then stood up, stretching a bit. While being very athletic and having no useless fat, the wolf was never against a good meal. And even if Vethara would jog the living grease out of him, munching on some tasty meat was always great. It did, however, intrigue him that what he smelt was fish. And he did not particularly appreciate fish.

"Indeed, looks like he is hungry," the woman laughed. "And I have to admit I would not mind something myself."

“No hard feelings at all,” Nathi manages at some point in between to Speeks, with a return wink and a smile. “And yes, it would have been nice to see the old man. I’m reminded I need to drop in on him sometime, maybe bring some of Dom’s cooking by. Mine would likely kill him.”

No doubt they all know that while she loves good food, she’s an absolute failure in the kitchen. Camp cooking, even worse. It was best to not mention the myriad failures, nor the chewing-out she’d gotten from Dominic those few times she’d attempted something or other in ‘his’ kitchen. Even the kids knew better than to ask her to fix something – just in case.

At Bondayehr’s explanation, Naiya looks up at her mother with an all-too-familiar expression that usually Nathi is on the delivering end of. As the woman leans over with a nicely-wrapped makeshift icepack, gently putting it in place, the little girl straightens up, one hand on her hip, the other softly patting Zio Timo’s shoulder as if to say ‘it’s alright, I’ll take care of this’, as amusing as it might be.

“Shorty,” Nathi says, somewhat oblivious, given the arrival of the ‘ret she plowed over as well earlier. “I am so very, very sorry for running into you like that on the beach. Completely unintended. I wasn’t paying enough attention – and but damned if Tim here didn’t knock me flat on my backside on account soon after. Which is unfortunately why we’ve got him laid up here presently, for which I again apologize. He was quite sly in how he pulled it off, curse his hide. Impressive takedown, that – just ask Speaker-Rrit.” She even manages to tilt her head up a bit with all of that, in a not-imperious way for a switch, taking the previous advice to heart.

“Mama,” Naiya finally interjects, one foot tapping impatiently even while she offers Bondayehr a treat from the nearby tray.

Marcus pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth, looking over at his sister curiously, then to his mother, then grinning as he starts eating again, this time watching the brewing conflict.

“Yes, Naiya?” Nathi says patiently, turning back to the little girl.

“You knocked both of them down? And you hurt Zio Timo? That is so … so …”

“Now Naiya, it was an accident – and Tim there came after me, not the other way around –“

“I don’t care. You don’t hurt nice people,” comes the stubborn reply, both arms crossing, scowling up at her mother like a mini mirror image of the Dread Lady when angry.

“And you don’t sass your mama, young miss,” Nathi says in a firm but quiet tone, one brow arching, her chin tilting up slightly. “It wasn’t on purpose, and I’ve apologized. Think of when you and Marcus get playing and one or both of you gets hurt on accident. That’s what this was. Now are you going to stand there frowning, or are you going to have something to eat? I’ll bet Aunty Shorty wouldn’t mind a hello hug too, come to think of it”

Giving her mom a dubious look, the little girl pats Tim’s shoulder again, makes sure he can easily reach the food on the platter, then walks over to Shorty, offering her a snuggly hug, albeit with a fierce sort of expression aimed at Nathicana.

“God save us from stubborn children,” the woman mutters under her breath before taking a plate for herself and sitting down nearby to start eating.

“So … did you see our flying dragon trick?” Marcus pipes up with in between mouthfuls.

Timofeyev quietly but politely accepts being waited on hand and foot, then he and Shorty have a little chuckle at Nathi's expense. "You sure Shodey's not dabbling in cloning again?" Bondayehr risks that much. Has to. Situation is just too priceless not to.

Meanwhile, 'Auntie' Shorty returns Naiya's hug with one gentle furred arms, finding the whole exchange rather amusing. "Yes, well, everyone's apologized and taken care of. I would have liked to seen the pounce, though." She reaches over to ruffle Timofeyev's hair. "That should teach him to wear padding."

"Bah, padding is for the weak." Bondayehr smirks crookedly. "Flying dragon trick? I should've known that had something to do with you two. Wouldn't have had anything to do with the Keeper, would it?" He chuckles. "Very impressive, all the same."

“As much as I’d love to pass the buck to mia sorella on this one, I’m afraid it’s all my fault,” Nathicana replies to the teasing with a wry smile, before taking a long sip of ice water for herself. “Perhaps someone had a video going of the antics we could track down? That was one for posterity.”

Naiya, having made certain all is well through the use of tactical hugging, as is her wont, takes her plate and pulls a chair up close to her adopted uncle, all the better to be helpful should he need anything, and continue her perhaps amusingly-protective watch over him.

Marcus nods enthusiastically to the return query, and launches into a somewhat breathless recounting of the whole incident, with Naiya piping up now and then as she sees fit.

“It was a Keeper, and her name is Kiara, and she has a Reploid with her called Tsunami, and she can do magic, and fly, and all sorts of stuff.”

“She made us a magic rock out of the sand.”

“Uh huh – and that’s what made the little glowy dragon, and we could make it fly, and do things, and go all over the place.”

“And we met Ivan, and he played with us too.”

“I liked him, Naiya. And yes, we made it chase the big wolf, who’s a lot like Kostya, and he came over and we got to pet him too.”

“He belongs to Vethara. She was very nice.”

“And then the Sakkrans all went running down the beach, and they were so big and they were everywhere, and there were drums and everything …”

“And it did get a little scary …”

“But Miss Kiara did more magic and whoooosh, there was like a big invisible wall, and the sand went up all over real fast, and nobody got hurt, and they all went running down into the water, and then it all got settled down, and then mama called us over.”

“It was fun,” Naiya finished for the both of them, each child beaming contentedly and smiling at each other as they recalled the busy afternoon.

“So have you two had an enjoyable time so far – all collisions aside,” Nathi asks Shorty and Bondayehr, watching the group with amusement. “It seems G’reer-Captain has been given a run for his money. Certainly broke out of his more conservative shell at least.” This last delivered with a sly sort of look out to sea where she’d last spotted the big ‘tosh.

"Video, hmmm? I bet Wheeland will have some. All I have to do is ask Ssh nicely." Bondayehr adjusts the ice-pack on his abdomen and eats with the skinny-boy voraciousness he usually adopts when not constrained by formal rules of etiquette. As for the protective watching... well, like mother, like daughter, so they say. At least Little N's concern hasn't turned around and bit him in the ass yet.

He listens politely to the breathless description of the past howeverlong, because that's just what he does. There was no point in worrying like he did, as usual. After all, the Keeper is more overpowered than he could ever possibly be, and probably a much better person to boot. No need for White Knights, and that much is a good thing.

"I've had an excellent time," Shorty answers with a flick of her ears, Timofeyev merely nodding effortless general assent. "I've at the very least made contact with Lord Nefarious and Baroness Élisabeth, which I hope to make more official later."

"Speaking of G'reer," Timofeyev says with one brow slightly raised, "what did you do to him? He was a perfectly normal... well, perhaps only slightly broken job-conscious ratcat when I left him with you and now he's out cavorting in the surf like a bottlenose dolphin in the wake of one of his precious submarines."

And that he is. Well, actually, having cooled off and calmed down a bit he's padding back onto the beach, sopping wet. A quick shakeout does wonders for that, though.

“Il dio, I hope that went well. Neffy can be a real stick in the mud now and then, bless his stiff neck,” Nathi says with a chuckle. “I wish you good luck with all of that all the same. If you ever have the opportunity, Gehenna is quite charming. So that little orchid on his arm is a Baroness? She looked ready to wilt at first opportunity. Where was she from anyway?”

Of course then comes the question about G’reer, and Nathicana looks over to Bondayehr with the most innocent look she can manage.

“Why, I have no idea, Tim. I just swatted him on the backside and started up a friendly game of tag that others soon joined in. And perhaps teased ...” She lifts her hand and nearly touches thumb to forefinger, and winks. “Just a little bit. I didn’t notice anything broken about him perse, though he does seem to have a fascination for things that jiggle. Maybe we should wave him over?”

"Xirnium," Shorty replies politely between bites, still eating with some sort of attempt at civility despite the fact that this event was clearly erroneously billed as 'diplomatic.' "If nothing else, it was valuable experience in speaking with aristocrats who consider such things, hmmrrr, natural?" She's not going to speak poorly of anyone under the current circumstances, but nobility-by-blood is most certainly a disgustingly outdated concept in the Scolopendran mind. The kzinti mind... well... not so much, but that always has to be backed up by action and really only applies to proper Heroes (not the adopted ones).

Timofeyev, meanwhiles, puts this together with his previous observations, collates it, and files it in a place for further reference. This is a good thing; it reduces G'reer-Captain's threat level in his mind by several points and offers several possibilities for risk management and alleviation. "You don't say? Well, I don't know about you, but I guess I particularly can't say anything about his brokenness. It can't hurt."

Delighted at once again commanding all of Lord Nefarious’ attention, the Xirniumite noblewoman seemed like a kitten that had finally been left alone to play with its new ball of string.

‘Oh, I’m quite alright, Damian. Just a little startled,’ Élisabeth assured the gentleman, a weak smile touching at her lips. A rather delicious thought briefly played across her mind, and the noblewoman suddenly appeared a little faint.

‘Actually, to be honest, I think our near miss gave me quite a little fright,’ complained Élisabeth. ‘Here, feel my pulse,’ the noblewoman added. Taking Damian’s hand, and tilting her head slightly to the side, she pressed the back of his fingers against her warm, soft skin, touching first upon her slender neck and then at the base of her throat.

‘Yes, I think I should like to sit down somewhere quiet and recover my serenity,’ Élisabeth said, pressing her cheek against the back of his wrist before he removed his hand from her neck. ‘This place is really not for ladies.’

Smiling, the Baroness accepted Damian’s arm.

‘I should have hoped you would like to hear a lot more about myself...’ Élisabeth replied in answer to his inquiry, biting rather mischievously at the side of her lip.

“Ah, Xirnium,” Nathi says thoughtfully, though she’s looking in the direction of G’reer, nibbling at the various tidbits on her plate. “I believe we’re still waiting for some Kaeneian issues to clear up in regards to them. Damned dirty politics. As hypocritical as it may seem, I never have much liked the idea of respect and power granted simply by accident of birth.”

She looks fondly at her two children then, her smile somewhat wistful. “I’m trying to teach them the responsibility that comes with it. Devon doesn’t always help with that, but …” She shrugs, and brushes all that tangled mess aside. Time enough for troubles later – now is time for fun and relaxation.

“If there’s no objections then,” she says, standing up and waving at G’reer, whistling sharply to see if she can get his attention. “The more the merrier, yes? Besides, after all that exertion, perhaps he could use something to snack on.”

“And I wouldn’t mind more opportunity to tease,” she adds quietly, her expression mischievous once again.

It's not too hard for Nathi to get herself noticed. G'reer prides himself on his attention to detail, and the attention is gladly given when certainly has the details it takes to get it. Having not yet realized quite the nature of the Dread Lady's character, the ratcat finishes shaking himself out and pads on over to the group. Bondayehr and Shorty glance at each other before snickering quietly to themselves. This is going to be quite the train wreck, and of course they can't help but watch.

G'reer-Captain bows shortly with a wink of his ears, apparently as back to normal as he ever gets. "Hrrr. I'm it, but I have no problem with calling a short recess for snacks." He's been running around quite a bit and hasn't eaten since breakfast, so his stomach does the talking for him as he finds a seat. "Thank you for inviting me over, ma'am." The 'tosh looks over at the reclining Timofeyev. "Your interception was successful, Colonel?"

Bondayehr chuckles and munches on a fried clam or two. "You know it. She never saw it coming."

"Excellent." Neither one comment on any injuries, real or imagined. "How does the Hunt find you, Embassy-Representative?" G'reer picks up a large grilled steak and causes the majority of it to disappear in one go.

"Successful," Shorty replies easily. "A bit more horseplay than expected, but successful nonetheless."

G'reer finishes his steak and nods, ears winking. "Good, good. All is well all around, then?"

It isn't that he's suddenly become less socially inept. No, this is just something of a learned tradition, a social liturgy with its own practiced structure.

“Getting better by the minute, I’d say,” Nathi replies lightly, selecting a tasty morsel from her plate between thumb and forefinger, and bringing it to her mouth somewhat slowly, her eyes on G’reer as she opens her mouth and delicately helps draw it in with the tip of her tongue. She chews politely, then teasingly sucks the remaining juice from her fingertip. The actions themselves seem casual, relaxed, perhaps even unconscious to anyone not familiar with her at least.

“I take it you’ve been enjoying yourself as well? I know I have been – especially when I’ve been able to see you in action. A Kzin on the chase is quite a sight to see, after all. I still recall Sko'loti-Hucy rounding up those loose oxen in Treznor. Damned impressive, that.” She smiles just a bit, turning her attention to her drink, and taking a slow sip before continuing, giving G’reer a sidelong glance.

“Though I have to say, you seemed to lose your focus in that last exchange. Almost as if something had … caught your eye?”

The twins meanwhile, are busy chatting quietly with each other, examining their plates to make sure neither has managed to get a treat the other has not, and trading various things back and forth as suits their individual tastes.

“He’s a big one,” Marcus whispers, probably too loud, but that’s the nature of little kids.

“Mmmhmm,” Naiya agrees, then checks Zio Timo’s ice pack to make sure it’s still sufficiently cold, and of course, gently patting his shoulder with her little hand. “But I think Speeks is bigger.”

”You sure?”

“Mmm. And he makes really good sammiches.”’

“True.” A pause, then a mischievous smile crosses Marcus’ face. “We haven’t pounced him yet.”

Naiya looks over at her brother, then glances about conspiratorially.

“Wait for it,” she whispers back, the two of them then nodding in agreement, understanding the intentions clearly, from several years of working together on many such ‘projects’. The moment in question would of course, come when least expected, and if all went well, result in as much chaos and fun as possible – at least for them.

Bondayehr, having not much else to do, glances over and watches this little display. There's a Finnish saying, related to the Germanic concept of Schadenfreude, which goes something to the extent of 'vahingonilo on aidointa iloa, sillä siihen ei sisälly tippaakaan kateutta,' or 'schadenfreude is the purest joy, since it doesn't include a bit of envy.' With all the unfair advantages he's had in collecting languages whilst convalescing under the care of Nathi's sister-in-mind, he does actually consider this in the original languages and decides, for once, not to feel bad at the smug sensation he gets watching this particular train wreck about to happen. While his attitude towards the whole thing is mostly pure cynicism metered by a few measures of pure yatta! glee of theorized countermeasures working without having to do a thing to achieve it short of flying the subcat out here, Shorty watches this with a bit more curiosity. She's seen Nathi tease people before, certainly--maybe even His Holiness (Rrit, not the Pope) once or twice--but never quite laying it on this thick. Well, the thought of there being some attraction certainly wouldn't be alien to the 'ret, as G'reer is a rather nice specimen that despite his obsession over all things naval he does take good care of himself, is fit, and clearly has the ambition that's one of the primary virtues of Heroic thought, something that Timofeyev doesn't quite share (the difference being the human operates from an overarching sense of duty and service before self, while the 'tosh is actually looking for opportunities to go higher). Then, knowing Bondayehr's particular proclivities, the concept that the Dread Lady may harbor similar thoughts wouldn't be exactly outside the realm of reason anymore... but that smacks too much of character analysis when she doesn't know enough about Nathi's tendencies that way, so she categorizes it as just another example of Nathicana Playing Up The Vixen Card.

Now, in Western cultures, eye contact means 'I'm listening.' In Arabic cultures, it also means 'I'm listening,' but the stereotype of the sleepy-eyed Arab comes from it being so damned sunny and half-opened eyelids take less effort than squinting. In Kzinti cultures, it's 'I'm listening' amongst equals and 'I'm challenging you' inbetween superiors and subordinates. This sort of subordinate-superior challenging, unlike Eastern cultures, is applauded, as it shows ambition and what is known colloquially, in a word, as 'balls.' So G'reer, from all the various influences on his culture, watches Nathi. Which means he pays attention to all those deliberate movements and, if on a subconscious level, they register. Deliberate movements hold a special sort of meaning in the kzinti mind, and G'reer takes a hearty gulp of whatever juice or water happens to be first to hand. "Hrrr, yes, ma'am. It has been most fun... and thank you for the compliment."

He bows a little in his seat, winking his ears although the tips may be turning just a touch more pinkish. "I suppose I did lose some focus, yes. Haven't eaten since this morning, after all, and it's a warm day..." Both of these statements are true. "Still, I suppose I should thank you, ma'am, for getting me involved."

“Oh, it has been my pleasure, believe me. It’s nice to have as fine a challenge as yourself for a change,” Nathicana replies, smiling warmly, albeit close-lipped. “I so rarely get a chance to play these days. As for the other, I suppose that would explain things. No doubt you’re going to need a bit more sustenance, all things considered. Must keep your strength up, after all. Here – let me at least refill your drink. Seem to have a powerful thirst to go along with that impressive appetite.”

In the course of standing and leaning over to do just that, she can’t help but offer him a more up close and personal view of some of her more desirable attributes, given her current state of dress. She steadies herself with one hand laid lightly on his broad shoulder, all quite innocently in contrast with her provocative posture.

The innocence lasts all of the few moments it takes to finish refilling his cup, and set the decanter aside, whereupon the hand resting on his shoulder gently slides down along his arm on fingertips, lingering slightly, before patting his hand.

“I’m glad you could join us,” she says sincerely, watching his reaction throughout all of this, unblinking and still smiling pleasantly.

"Hrrr hrrr," the kzintosh chuckles, trying to draw his mind away from various peculiarities of his psychology and remaining cool and collected by going through bits of some rather dry manuals he'd been recently studying, "most people say I should get out and play more." He feels his ears go beet red with the possible Freudian slip, and thinks hard so other things don't get so.

"Really, you should," Bondayehr quips quietly, sipping from his drink with the slightly bored nonchalance he approaches many things. It's a great poker face.

Given the whole unblinking thing G'reer simply has to return the challenge as best he can, for not only is she a monkey but it keeps him from ogling particular distractions... then glances at his hand as if some sort of mysterious but not particularly unpleasant stain had suddenly appeared on it, like a dollop of ice cream or something. In the transition of eyes flicking from eyes to hand he gets in a glance or two of everything else Nathi has so thoughtfully offered for visual consumption. He justifies it in his brain quickly as Nathi does outrank him and so glancing away is an appropriate show of subordination rather than outright submission, but he also knows he's really just lying to himself. "Hrrr, well... I'm glad too. Hrrr, sorry for griping earlier," he glances at Bondayehr.

Bondayehr shrugs. "You weren't the only one, if I recall. Accepted."

G'reer looks at his now full goblet and still isn't particularly sure what's in it, but after lolling his tongue inside his dry mouth again he decides it'll do and downs it. Then politely stuffs his face with something else so nothing else foolish will come out of it.

Nathi glances over her shoulder at Bondayehr and wriggles her brows slightly before turning her attention back to G’reer, casually refilling his glass again, belatedly noticing the contents thereof were not, as she first had thought, strictly juice – although it certainly looked quite tropical and appealing, in keeping with the ongoing beach theme.

Ah well. He is after all a big boy, certainly he’d have noticed, and surely he can handle himself regardless. She finishes filling his over-sized glass, then takes a bit for herself, sipping slowly as she makes her way around to his other side, again trailing her fingertips idly, almost as if she’s assuring her balance with a very delicate touch.

Almost.

“You know what they say about all work and no play. Please tell me you’ve been in the Dominion long enough to notice that overall, we do try to ah … balance those things out, no?”

Alright, so the drink has a bit more to it than she’d thought it might as well. But it’s good. And orangey. And a bit fizzy. And was that cranberry, and a touch of lime, perhaps? She’d have to inquire as to the mix later, perhaps on going back for more for the cozy little group.

She leans in, tanned arms folded on the table, framing her assets rather nicely, should the ‘tosh – or anyone else for that matter – choose to notice. Gingerly taking an untouched slice of meat from her plate, she offers it to G’reer, ‘accidentally’ brushing said assets against his arm in doing so.

“I can’t help but wonder if we manage to get both you gentlemen to lighten up and relax a bit if the multiverse won’t collapse in on itself from shock. Then again … I think it may be worth the risk. What say you, oh esteemed honorary Aunty Shorty? Do you think the boys can rise to the challenge of having fun and enjoying themselves for more than a few minutes at a time?”

The children, meanwhile, seem largely oblivious to their mother’s antics, too busy pointing out and talking excitedly about the various guests at the beach – generally, the more interesting or exotic, the better. Still of interest are the Keepers, and the Sakkrans, with the hope of playing with Ivan again at some point, as he has been deemed both ‘fun’ and possessed of a worthy imagination. Vethara and Fluff come up in conversation, as does further (and more quiet) plotting concerning the large ‘tosh who’s joined them, and Speaker, who they haven’t yet had the opportunity to show their improved pounce tactics to.

Timofeyev of course catches the glance, between stretching to get a little more comfortable on the beach chair and thanking Little N for her playing nurse. Shorty sees it too, and raises one furred eyebrow while gently sniffing the air. The only one of the 'Pendran party not to see it is G'reer, who gently smacks his lips at the tart sweetness of the concoction and the sensation of having just drunk enough to give any healthy human alcohol poisoning in a few scant minutes hitting by making his nose tingle with the sense of being comfortably numb. It's relaxing, and relaxation is such a good thing. Being all wound up all the time really is no fun, and for once he's getting pleasantly loose somewhere other than in private. What he does in private is his own business, after all. And this is private enough, with such swell friends and all that. He watches, in what he thinks is a nonchalant way, Nathi's movements, and shifts to make himself more comfortable in his seat. There are other subconscious motivators for movement right at that moment, but he's not thinking too much about them. "You do seem to try and make time for leisure," he replies while looking at the human woman conversationally but unblinkingly, taking a slower sip of his drink this time, consciously trying to enjoy it. "I've noticed but not learned. Yet. As already said, I should fix that."

"And, as said before, you should," Timofeyev says again before idly munching on some fruit.

Shorty watches all this with a sort of perverse fascination while things fall into place in her mind as quickly as they seem to in front of her eyes. Glancing back at her consort, she slowly moves the tip of her tail from side to side in a hidden gesture, accentuating each end of the sweep with a slight flick. Bondayehr simply nods ever so slightly, at which point the 'ret's eyes widen a bit and she realizes she's being addressed. It's been such a curious day... "Hrrm? Yes," she quickly slides easily into the posture of conniving she takes on so much with the Dread Lady, now that clarity has been achieved, "it would be a wonderful idea if these two workaholics could manage to relax a bit." She glances back at Timofeyev, a bit of challenge in her stare. "Let it all out, as it were."

The reclining colonel suppresses the raised eyebrow the challenge elicits, instead returning the half-lidded gaze out of habit. "Me, rise to a challenge? Well, if I've a hero's reputation to live up to, how can I not?"

"Hrr, well said," G'reer-Captain nods before, on a whim, leaning over to gently nibble the morsel from Nathi's fingers. It's just easier that way, and we're all friends here.

Naiya decides about this point that dear Zio Timo does not have enough available on his plate. After a concerned once-over, and an additional decision that more ice is needed, she slips out of her seat, places a chaste little kiss on his forehead, and pats his arm gently.

“You need to eat more,” she says simply, then turns to her brother, speaking rapidly in their native tongue – something they slip in and out of often, especially during animated discussions. The gist of the conversation is simple. More food is needed, and another honorary family member is in need of a good pouncing in that same direction.

“We’ll be right back,” they call out, scampering towards the food tables quickly, again figuring that speed is a good thing, and ‘tis better to ask forgiveness than permission in any case.

“Be careful – and come right back!” Nathi calls out, reflexively, watching their progress through the crowd until she’s satisfied of their relative safety. And even then, she still watches now and then from the corner of her eye as she settles back in to continue the conversation.

“Ah, G’reer-Captain. There are so very many entertaining pastimes in the Dominion. I daresay there’s a bit of something for everyone to be found somewhere. Name your pleasure, I’ll bet we could find something to satisfy,” she says, perhaps a bit slyly as she smiles close-lipped at the large ‘tosh, selecting a tidbit from her plate for herself, and opening her mouth slightly, slowly to pop it in and chew thoughtfully before going on.

“Shorty, you and Tim haven’t been up to the house for a bit. What say we drop in there after we’ve finished enjoying this most excellent Sakkran hospitality? Perhaps your friend here would like to join us? I’ve got the Revenge in orbit, plenty of room for carrying your ride, and there’s ample room in the guest house for everyone, so no one need concern themselves with driving.”

In the meantime, Marcus and Naiya have, with much giggling to begin with, made their way to where Speeks and H’zta are sitting. The giggling stops, for the most part, though the anticipatory grins remain as they sneak up from behind the tosh’s chair, one to a side, with at least a ‘shh’ or two escaping in the process.

Bondayehr just shakes his head and grins behind closed lips at the little girl. "First captains and colonels, now the daughter of the Imperatrice. At this rate I'm sure a Sky Marshal or two will cut similar orders at some point. Still, quite appreciated, Little N." When one's been adopted by the family, one can get away with silly nicknames. Especially when one gets to be the 'cool' uncle with questionable social virtues. He also chuckles quietly to himself in hearing that someone else likewise honored is going to get it.

Then again, someone sitting at the table is going to get it too, and in a big way, apparently. Ha, multiple entendre on several levels! He joins with Shorty to watch this curiosity play out.

"Name it, hrrr?" The 'tosh looks thoughtful for a moment, although he continues to watch Nathi's deliberate motions with more intentness than he consciously intends. "It's not like my pleasures are rare; it shouldn't be too hard to find something... appropriate."

"The ocean's right over there, finears," Timofeyev quips, using the slur as a friendly term of endearment in the decidedly Scolopendran way, "I could nip on over with a bucket and get some for you if you're going through withdrawal."

"Hrr. Other than that. Perhaps I've overdone on that one... and if you're going," the 'tosh says towards Shorty, "you are my ride, after all..."

"Oh, no worries. I certainly think we should visit again--don't you, Tim?"--Shorty smiles with ears winking at Bondayehr--"and as for you, G'reer, I can say that an offer of hospitality from the good Nathicana is not to be declined lightly. A luxury Loki, a guest house Tim and I are quite familiar with, obviously plenty of wine and other such things to go around... I think it would be an excellent way to cap off the day." She smiles slyly, matching to some extent Nathi's seemingly nonchalant yet showing-off posturing.

"I certainly must attend, then, hrrrm?" The 'tosh winks his ears. He's not really unhealthy, just a bit outside the peak of the bell curve.

Several dozen meters away, Speeks flicks his ears once or twice to increase the tension for the kids, then relaxes with a wink towards his consort. H'zta, true to form, doesn't let on that she's waiting expectantly to see what happens next, even if she's seen it before. It's always fun.