So worth it... (Xavier)

[Bacchante]

This was going to be perfect. More than a week of preparation, all coming down to this one point; Faltair was more than ready now. She was perfect.

It had taken much time, and late night experimentation, to get the consitency of the fake breasts right. The hair had been easy enough, he just unravelled a rug to it's smallest points. Although making it into a wig had been horrific, considering his lack of needlework skills. Acquiring a dress had also been tough but he was very good at sneaking around. Finally, with the careful application of some creams he had concocted, he looked like a pale young woman rather than his tanned self.

Faltair had no idea what had given him this... well, idea. It was brilliant though. Xavier was a nice enough guy, he supposed, but he was strictly a ladies man and doing this to him would be beautiful. Evil, true, but beautiful nonetheless.

Now he simply had to find Xavier, and make sure he was alone. Easier said than done, unfortunately. Especially when he had to make sure he wasn't examined too closely. Or she, as the case was. But luck was on Fal's side today, and he had heard that Xav occasionally went to the lakeside when he wanted to drown himself in liquor. Convenient.

Faltair slipped around trees, scanning the area. Where could he be? He was all dressed up and everything. Something caught his eye. A clinking noise of a jug, and motion. There! A person swigging something. Chance of being Xavier? Ninety-nine percent.

A quiet, breathy voice punctuated the night as 'Ferra' stepped out of hiding. "Excuse me, but do you know the way back to the Weyr? I'm slightly lost here." The girl standing a little way away from Xavier smiled and waved a bit. She was pretty, in a homely sort of way, and wearing a green dress. She had blonde hair that went slightly past her shoulders and hid a portion of her face from view. The expression that could be see by the faint moonlight looked embarressed to have to ask for directions. Inside, Faltair grinned mentally. This would be fun.

[Desert]

Life was being particularly good to Xavier that night. He had been bedding one of the Lower Caverns women for a short time, but he had noticed the girl's eye wandering. It didn't bother him unduly, considering his own eye wandered a lot, but Xavier figured that it was better to cut it off right then to avoid a spat in the future. Apparently, the woman had been of his same mind; she had agreed to everything he said, and they had parted as friends. She had even given away the existence of some very old, very fine brandy hidden away in the kitchens.

Of all the types of hard liquor, brandy was the one he got his hands on the least, which made it one of his favorites. The stuff wasn't to be imbibed in the quantities he usually consumed; beer and wine was for bingeing, brandy was for sipping. Xav had learned his lesson the first time he'd tried it that brandy was a very fiery liquor.

So, once he had done his own sneaking about and wheedling, he had gotten possession of the brandy and brought himself out for some alone-time. Usually, Xavier preferred drinking in the company of others, but he wanted to enjoy this rare treat properly. He could play drinking games any night he wanted, but the stuff he currently nursed should be savored.

As Xavier took another pull at the flask -- gingerly, very nearly grimacing at the intensity of the liquor -- he heard a movement behind him. He had just started drinking, and was thus nowhere near the point of intoxication that made him stupid. Even with the strong liquor he had on hand -- between the full meal he'd just eaten and his own impressive tolerance, he was set for a while yet. Xavier was slightly disgruntled to be discovered when he'd been enjoying a rare moment of solitude, so he acted as though he was unaware of the person until they spoke up.

Why did that voice sound like it should be familiar? Xavier disregarded that nagging thought and turned to see the stranger, letting his gaze travel searchingly up and down the girl's body. She looked fairly androgynous -- more like a pretty boy than a real girl, at least in the face. Her figure didn't have many curves, though in the moonshadows Xavier did spot a hint of breasts. He wasn't drunk enough yet to find her very appealing.

"Well, miss, you're smack in the middle of the Weyr," he told the girl with a faint smile. "Where specifically are you trying to go? You're in the Weyrbowl right now, so practically everyplace but the rider weyrs are accessible." Might as well be polite and give her the directions she needed, so she would move on and give him back the solitude he had come to the lakeshore to seek.

[Bacchante]

Faltair was... disappointed, to say the least. He had expected a chauvinistic remark of some sort, or at least evidence of it. Apparently he wasn't inebriated enough to start thinking with the little brain in his pants. That could be solved. It wasn't like Fal hadn't planned for every eventuality. Maybe not every[ one, like if Threadfall began in two minutes he’d be quite unprepared, but most of the ones involving Xavier. “I’m trying to find my way to the candidate’s quarters actually, but I don’t have to be there right now.”

He/she moved to sit near Xavier, still partially obscured by the shadows. She pulled out her own flask and held it up, “To good vintage.” Faltair said, almost mockingly. Then he took a drink. This flask was grape juice, unfermented. His other stuff… well, it would do interesting things. “I got sent here from Talune Hold by my parents, to check up on my idiot brother. At least, that’s what they told me. Probably just to give Father enough time to chase off my latest boyfriend. They always find an excuse to wreck any relationship I have.” She snorted. “I can tell where Faltair gets it from.” She took another swig and put the flask down. It vanished into the folds of her dress.

“I’m Ferra, by the way. Who might you be?” She smiled at him from behind her hair, mischievously. Obviously she seemed someone who was thinking of doing something shameful, for her family at least. Something seemed to occur to her and she offered her flask to him. “A trade, mayhap? This is good wine, filched efficiently from Father’s private store. He doesn’t think I know about it.’ She shook the bottle questioningly.

Unfortunately for Xavier, the drink contained a very efficient potion that worked twofold. One part of it, passed off as a hangover cure to the person he ‘acquired’ it from, reduced the physical effects of drink, to prevent alcohol poisoning. The other part fogged the mind, and combined with liquor it would be very potent. This plot was even better than his other one, when he had drugged the other candidate with a combination aphrodisiac and laxative. Man that was brilliant. This, this would be much more devastating.

[Desert]

So, was she a new candidate? That's what her words led Xavier to believe -- that was, until she elaborated. Ah, so a baby-sitter type errand, how lovely. Well, if this girl was anything like most of the girls around her age with candidate or rider relatives he'd ever met, she was probably excited to be in the Weyr. Then again, the mocking tone of her voice led him to believe that she wasn't very taken with the job. Xavier smirked.

As she lifted her own flask, Xavier tipped his up and took a small pull. Oh, this brandy was delightful! His enjoyment was called to a halt when the girl mentioned one of Xavier's fellow candidates; a younger lad who Xavier, rather uncharacteristically, despised. That impudent prankster had done what few people had ever managed to do and gotten himself firmly (and likely irrevocably) on Xavier's list of people at whose funerals he would be suppressing a grin, if he even bothered to attend their funeral at all. Xavier wasn't the type of person to hate anyone, unless they do something to earn his enmity: and Faltair certainly had.

Xavier glanced sharply at the girl sitting next to him. "Faltair is your brother? I'm sorry," he said, pulling a comically sympathetic face. "Oh, I'm Xavier. Journeyman harper, though I don't wear the knots now I'm here." He sketched a stiff half-bow in her direction. Farra, was she? She did sound much like Faltair -- that was the familiarity that had nagged him at first. And apparently she did share a mischievous streak with her brother, though so far she didn't seem to have the same malicious tendencies.

When she offered her flask in trade for his own, Xavier demurred. "Thanks but no thanks," he said, holding up his own. He wasn't much a fan of wine -- though the good vintages on occasion tickled his palate, compared to the brandy he currently had possession of, wine paled in comparison. Besides, he was experiencing a bout of slightly uncharacteristic suspicion -- now that he knew she was related to Faltair, he was wary, for especially with siblings the apple never fell far from the tree.

[Bacchante]

Faltair hadn’t thought it would be as simple as that. But he had a trick up his sleeve. Ferra clasped her hands over her mouth, giggling slightly. “You’re Xavier? Oh, I’m so sorry! I’ve read about some of the things Fal has done to you in his letters home. You must have the patience of a dragon, well at least one of the more patient ones. Anyway, I’m amazed he’s still alive given what he’s done to you!” Ferra rubbed the back of her head, half amused and half shocked. She began to count of on her fingers while Faltair reminisced in his head.

“There was the lice in your underwear…” That had been hard, but well worth it to see him scratching his crotch so much. Hilarious. “Then when he put diluted agenothree in your skin cream…” It had caused horrible blisters, and when he tried to clear them up with a salve the salve had been tainted too. “Oh, and the combination laxative and aphrodisiac he gave you.” That had left Xavier crapping himself at odd moments, and perpetually craving women. A two-fold attack. Ferra bowed her head and rubbed her forehead. “I can’t apologise enough for my idiot brother. Every year the Hold celebrates the day he let. Heck, when he got Searched the general mentality of the Hold was essentially, ‘He’s your problem now’. But honestly, he said that you were a…” She trailed off, trying to find a way to phrase it without hurting Xavier’s feelings.

“I’ll be blunt, I guess. He said that you were a pretty much a horny drunk. I knew it wasn’t true because, well, Fal is Fal but I didn’t expect you to be so nice, or so handsome.” Ferra put a hand over her mouth and looked away, mortified. A blush showed on her face in the moonlight. She kept facing the opposite way from Xavier and quietly sipped her drunk. Bait, set.

[Desert]

As the girl recounted all the pranks Faltair had pulled on him, Xavier chuckled ruefully. "For the most part, it wasn't that bad -- I'd given and taken worse when I was at the Hall. He seemed like just your run-of-the-mill prankster. But that last one...!" He clenched his teeth at the hated memory. "I didn't think the brat was that malicious, but apparently I underestimated him. I'm shocked that the Headwoman or D'ron hasn't kicked him out by now -- I know I sound like an old man saying this, but if he'd been a 'prentice at the Hall and tried that, he'd have been out on his rear long ago." Xavier shook his head.

Oh, he knew he was kind of making himself a target with his behavior, but he wasn't one to let an occasional and relatively minor annoyance like one pestilential teenager obstruct his enjoyment of life. At Farra's final statement, he grinned lopsidedly and tilted his head in a gracious half-bow. "Thank you for the compliment, but I'll be the first to admit that he's pretty much right. Not entirely -- as you've already noticed I can be a well-behaved gentleman when I try -- but enough that I've got a reputation." Xavier chuckled at the memory of the masters at the Harper Hall seeing him off gratefully.

Something had nagged at him when Farra began the litany of pranks. "So, Faltair sends letters back describing his adventures in detail, does he?" Xavier asked casually, glancing at the girl. She looked a bit embarrassed, so maybe a change in subject would do her good. Xavier took another pull at his flask, sighing contentedly at the smoothness of the brandy. But really, what rebellious sixteen-Turn-old sent regular letters to his family detailing all his machinations? That didn't seem right, at least to Xavier. He would have thought that Faltair, like most boys his age, would be so grateful for getting away from his family that he would send as few messages home as he could get away with. That had certainly been Xavier's case. But maybe he was just seeing demons where there were none -- for the moment, Xavier shrugged off that oddity and merely enjoyed his drink.

[Bacchante]

”I’m not sure why. I think that he believes that his pranks aren’t done until he’s bragged about it. Maybe he’s trying to make sure we don’t let him get sent back… Or maybe he’s sad that nobody cared when he left.” Ferra sighed and looked away. ”To tell you the truth… That’s a little bit to do with why I agreed to come here. I know that Darktan will have been chased off by Dad by the time I get home, and he was sort of sweet, but I was feeling a little guilty. For all his stupidly and idiocy, Fal is still my kid brother. You know? He sends all these messages, trying to make us acknowledge him and nobody ever replies. We just… Pretend he doesn’t exist. I started wondering if maybe that was why he started acting out. That, maybe, if I’d paid more attention to him he wouldn’t have ended up as a little psychopath.”

‘She’ shook her head and stood up. ”I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be dumping all this junk on you. I’m sure you’ve got your own problems, especially with having to live with Faltair. Sorry for all of his shit too…” The ‘girl’ pointed vaguely somewhere. ”I… Should probably go. I’ll see you later, maybe?”