Sythyry (sythyry) wrote,
Sythyry
sythyry

Traff Gather [8 Thory 4262]

Ghirbis and I got to the Traff Gather a bit late. (We were trying to talk Dustweed into coming, over dinner, and didn't quite notice the time. Zie refused.) I had reserved the Green Tile Classroom in Sprowlween Hall for the meeting. When we got there, the benches were full of assorted undesirables. Or desirables, depending on your point of view. Perverts, anyways. Lots of people! Chelinet, the definitely-desirable (viz. Orren) who had talked me into having the meeting, was sitting next to her skunky Rassimel girlfriend Moria, arguing in whispery voices about whether they could hold hands here. Yummy, yummy Jrakh was chatting with dull-or-spooky Thelvion and pseudononymous Grandille and a Rassimel girl who was probably Grandille's girlfriend Iridia. Rhedwy was on her back on the floor, ostentatiously licking her own genitalia in case anyone were unclear about (a) her Sleethiness, or (b) what she was there for. There was a dark shiny blue Herethroy co-lover in a faded stripey tunic sitting on a bench staring at her, more disturbed than fascinated.

"Hallo, the mighty Sythyry!" hooted Jrakh. "The meeting will now come to order!"

"It will? Isn't Esory coming? Or Whiskey and Mintiet?" I had to ask. But nobody knew.

"Is Sythyry really mighty?" asked the Herethroy.

"Not that I've noticed," I said.

"Rather!" said Jrakh. "Zie keeps the city safe from a nendrai -- sometimes two at once!"

"Oh, that Zi Ri. Hi, Sythyry! I'm Mynthë," said, well, Mynthë.

"Glad to meet you," I said.

Then the conversation turned to what the conversation should turn to. Jrakh wanted to discuss whether traffs can love their own species too, but the answer is obviously "no", so nobody else wanted to talk about that.

Rhedwy grinned her evil Sleeth grin. "Does a traff person have to desire every prime species except their own?"

"That's kind of the definition, Rhedwy," said Thelvion.

"OK, who's going to do Rhedwy first?" asked Jrakh.

"This is a student club, not one of those parties," said Grandille.

"Sometime soon I hold another one of those parties. Who in here comes to it?" said Rhedwy, and gave herself a few more licks that I'm sure were utterly unnecessary for any sort of grooming. After that she did get up and sprawl on a bench though.

"Me, me!" chirped Jrakh.

"Whiskey, too, now that he and Mintiet broke up," said Thelvion.

I had to ask, "They did? Why?"

"How do you ask why, after Whiskey gets them both beaten so badly in the quadrangle?" says [sic] the Sleeth.

"What happened?" I said.

"Sythyry, you sometimes must pay the attention to things that are not the nendrai and not the enchantment class!" said Rhedwy, thrashing her tail. "You do not mind your friends so well! That is not how a Zi Ri should behave! Instead it is how a Sleeth should behave, only you do not do Sleeth very well."

"I'm not trying to be a Sleeth," I said. "What happened?"

So, what happened was, Whiskey and Mintiet were in front of the library. Whiskey was frisky. He started playing cods-and-tabbles with Mintiet, with the stakes being kisses. (Which is a stereotypical thing for a courting couple to do, in case you don't know the stereotype.) He won a game and started taking rather more than just a kiss -- his hands going all over her and like that. Four passing Herethroy women of the laboring classes took exception to his behavior. He told them firmly that he was in love with her and that he would not stop. They whacked him with stout boards for perversion. Mintiet demanded that they stop, and they did. Whiskey explained the situation somewhat, which ended the truce instantly. They started beating both of them with stout boards for perversion. Whiskey cast some sort of fire spell. There was somewhat of a brawl, with some other Herethroy joining the laborers, and ... a couple of students joining on Whiskey and Mintiet's side, until the students realized that it was a beat-the-traff sort of fight rather than a town-vs-gown sort of fight, and they left. So Whiskey and Mintiet were both pretty badly hurt -- Mintiet's carapace was badly broken in a few places, and Whiskey got hammered and boarded into deeper unconsciousness, or maybe actual death for a bit. Anyways, after they both got back to awakeness, Mintiet dumped Whiskey for getting her into that.

"That's rather a shame. I imagine we've got to be more discreet," said Moria. "Me with my otter-toy, I mean, not just all of us."

Chelinet poked Moria with a clawtip. "Hey! You're not supposed to say that kind of thing in here!"

Moria's ears went flat. "Oh, right, very sorry. Me with my true love, I mean."

They looked so very sweet for a minute together. Rhedwy grumbled, and rolled on her back, and licked her private region more.

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