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Date Posted: 14:43:06 01/08/02 Tue
Author: Tristan
Subject: Let's do it already
In reply to: Laurel 's message, "Looking for company" on 13:53:10 01/08/02 Tue

Tristan was very pleased with himself for thinking up the outrageous plan to dress Yorik up as a girl. Marz seemed to take to it really well, even pestering Ravin for his disguise kit to procure the makeup. Tristan tried to pile his plate with as many different kinds of meat as possible before Marz finished talking to Ravin. He was famished, as usual, but didn’t want to make a spectacle of himself by leaving to get seconds and thirds later on.

Of course, layering his plate with stacks of food did make it a bit of an eye-catcher, but surely the others understood that he needed more food than the average person. Not only was he a dragon, but he was still what his kind would call a fledgling, and he had a bit of growing to do yet. Naturally, not in this form, but it was the other one that really counted, anyway.

He grabbed a glass of wine when he caught Marz gesturing for him to follow and hurried out of the tent so he could walk beside him. They found a nice, empty tarp a little bit away and settled there, grateful for the shade as they sipped at the chilled wine and chewed on the cold meats and fruits. Tristan nodded when Marz mentioned something about being a spy, but he didn’t say anything about it himself. Actually, he was a little jealous of Marz’s new super hearing abilities, since before, he had been the one with the best ears in the group.

“I’m glad we’re alone right now,” he said, giving him a happy smile, “Even if it’s just for a little bit. Seems every time I try to run off with you somewhere we get attacked or something.” He laughed lightly, but the sound died when he spotted Jeremy heading in their direction.

Marz didn’t seem to mind the company, though, but it was probably just because he was so super friendly. (People who thought he was mean just didn’t know him very well, that’s all.) Tristan just sighed and concentrated on stuffing his lunch down, since who the hell knew what was going to rear its ugly head to interrupt them next.

Every now and then he would throw Jeremy a glare, hoping the little jerk would get the point and scamper off. But he didn’t, in fact, he even had the gall to return the glares with his own little superior smirks, as if he were trying to suggest Marz actually enjoyed his presence. Tristan grumbled to himself, since that was probably somewhat true, though not on the level Jeremy was likely imagining.

Things weren’t improving when Corum arrived next, if only because Marz had actually called him over. Actually, he didn’t mind Corum at all; he was Marz’s friend and Tristan’s too, and that was cool. Tristan’s grumbles turned to sighs, and he realized alone time would have to wait, since it was obviously friend time right now. He smiled somewhat at the confused look on Corum’s face when Marz introduced their plan to dress Yorik up. It probably didn’t make much sense right now, seeing as how Marz neglected to mention that they were trying to set one skull up with another. He doubted Corum would have liked the sound of that very much.

When Jeremy asked if he could come along, Tristan shot Marz a warning look. The look was missed, however, and permission was given, much to Jeremy’s apparent smug delight. Tristan huffed under his breath and decided to just ignore the little brat forever, starting now. As of this moment, thoughts of Jeremy would no longer even enter his head. That was just how precisely unconcerned about him he was.

Tia arrived next, sitting down next to Corum and saying something about seeing again. Tristan smiled at her, because he liked her—that is, he liked her, not liked her, and thought Corum ought to try making his move any day now. He’d seen Corum with a girlfriend before, so he didn’t really understand why he was so blind to Tia’s affections. Tristan had thought he was the only idiot who could be flirted with for a month and not realize he was being found remotely attractive.

The conversation lagged somewhat as a new figure approached. Isobel, decked out in whorish splendor—okay, okay, it wasn’t particularly whorish, per se, he was just trying to be descriptive—was striding confidently toward them. Actually, his own eyes probably lingered on her tight-fitting top far too long, but his paltry glance was nothing in comparison to the drooling stares of Marz and the others. Tristan set his plate down with a clatter, the utensils banging noisily against one another, and shot him an annoyed look. Momentarily, everyone shifted their eyes to him, probably wondering what the hell his problem was this time.

“Are we going to do Yorik’s makeup or not?” he snapped, still glaring coolly at Marz. “If you’ve changed you mind, then I’ll just go finish my lunch with…with Alakbar!” He glanced around but couldn’t catch a glimpse of the foreign prince, so hoped his bluff wouldn’t be called.

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