driftfleet | Yaugur System Mingle

It sounds like you really want to ride a big, awful-smelling bird.

[ That doesn't mean he has to, does it? Except she's weirdly compelling. The way she's trying not to look at him, familiar and fond, it's hard not to follow her lead on it even if he's got every reason not to and none of her memory to go on.

He's going to end up riding a stupid, stinking bird, isn't he. ]

[He is absolutely going to end up riding a stupid, stinking bird.

She tilts her head, an almost challenging look on her face as she responds.]

I think it could be fun. You're welcome to stay on the ground if you're too afraid of them.

Hey! I'm not afraid of anything.

[ He doesn't really want to let her win... but... but! ]

Then I'll see you in the skies, Flyboy.

[Either way she wins, as far as she sees it.

After walking as much as they had (or rather, after being successfully steered away from the shady alleyway), it's not too much further to one of the main bird rental docks. It's more likely the noise that gives it away, but if Han is particularly in the mood to complain, there's a very bird-like smell in the air as well. Not too heavy, but with so many birds, it's impossible to entirely get rid of the smell.]

[ Either way, she does win. On principle Han dislikes that, because he's very much a man who doesn't like to lose, but he doesn't see any way out of this. At least in the intervening years, she must keep getting on his nerves. Some things don't change.

Pretty much his best option, he decides, after stewing on it through their walk, is to go along with it and just hope he actually can manage a bird, preferably better than she does, which ought to at least leave them on equal footing. ]

Nothing like some fresh air, [ he grouses, a little too loud because one of the attendants glares daggers. Oops.

He's osmosed enough, from hanging around in bars and watching people watch races and make bets, to know vaguely what builds of bird are best for various tasks, but he's got less than a clue about actually choosing one. What looks healthy, what to avoid. ]

After you, your Majesty.

[At least Han has the benefit of giant birds, specifically, not being Leia's area of expertise. Thrantas, yes, but birds and thrantas are two entirely different creatures. One has significantly more feathers and is likely more easily spooked and needs more skill to control.

Not that this is stopping Leia.

She shoots Han an exasperated look at yet another of his nicknames adapted from some way of addressing royalty before she sets about picking a bird. She doesn't have as much of an idea of what to look for, but she picks one that looks fast. She doesn't get on its back yet, but she does turn to find Han, looking at him expectantly to see if he's picked a bird yet, or if he's backing down.]

[ She'd like that, wouldn't she? But no, he's not backing down. Han Solo rarely does, even when it'd be smart to go that route. Maybe especially then.

He briefly considers it when one of the birds lunges toward him with an awful squawk, but in the end it just fills him with resolve and he picks out a bird, then heads to the keeper to rent them both a couple of hours.

Yes, he's going to be gentlemanly out of sheer spite. He comes back and hands her a set of reins to clip onto the bird's simple bridle. ]

Ready?

[Han deciding to act gentlemanly catches Leia off-guard, given how obviously against the idea of riding the birds himself he seemed to be. Leia raises an eyebrow, looking between Han and the offered reins for just a moment before taking them and clipping them on to the bridle.]

Thank you.

[That said, Leia finally climbs up on to her bird. The bird is a bit unstable at first, rebalancing itself with the added weight of a person on it, but if Leia is bothered by that (she is, just slightly), it barely shows.

She tilts her head, the same hint of a smile on her face that Han might have gotten used to by now.]

Do you want me to wait on the ground, or meet you in the sky?

[ It's a lot harder to keep up what feels like normal sniping when she looks at him that way. Sooner or later, he thinks, she's going to have to tell him the rest of it-- even if he thinks he's figured some things out.

He's just not sure he's ready to hear it. ]

Go ahead, [ he says with a wave. ] Maybe I'll beat you up there.

[ But probably not. Maybe he's just trying to avoid an audience for clambering up and figuring out how to tell the thing to get going. ]

[Part of her does want to see Han figure out how to get on the bird and get it flying, and it's that part of her that has her waiting for just a moment after he tells her to go ahead. But eventually she decides to take the path of (just slightly) less difficulty.

She slowly guides the bird around, toward a more open area for takeoff. It's bumbling and clunky looking and far from poised or anything classy, but Leia does manage to get the bird to take to the air. It takes her a moment to gain her balance on the bird in the air, leaning closer in toward the bird as it takes a wobbly, uneven sort of flight path higher into the air.

But because she still wants to make sure that Han both gets up into the air safely and see if he's any better at getting on his bird than she was, Leia sticks close by the paddock, unevenly circling around. Really, though, despite her best efforts, she's more focused on not falling off herself than she is on Han on the ground and whatever he's doing down there.]

[ Mostly, he makes it on with minimal stumbling. A little fumbling. The bird makes a low grumbling caw as he evidently settles his weight wrong, but once he's settled he manages to get it moving, waddling toward a jumping point.

He looks distinctly uncomfortable, long legs folded into the saddle. The bird matches him in crankiness, but it's well-trained-- or maybe just old enough to know the sooner it cooperates, the sooner this ride will be over and someone will feed it.

With minor prodding it makes the leap into the air, and he manages to hang on as it circles its way up to her altitude.

Okay, he looks maybe a little green. ]

[For the moment, while they're up in the air, any slight green tint is something Leia isn't going to mention. They're too close to the stables making it too easy to turn back around for now.]

You're sure you're okay?

[...Well okay it's not entirely about the green tint she's asking about. He looks more than a little cramped into that saddle, and that's not something you need to be particularly perceptive to tell. That part, at least, Leia finds a bit more amusing than concerning.

Not wanting to harp on it, though, she tilts her head off at some building not too far off from them in the distance.]

That seems like a good target to fly toward.

[ Giant birds are not giant enough for his long legs. Han huffs, as if he could be any less than okay-- as if he'd admit it, if he was.

He's getting the hang of it, more or less. After all, these saddles strap you in, the bird's not going to lose you without taking a suicide dive, right?

Right? ]

Race you.

[ Predictable, yeah. He nudges the bird onward, gripping a little too tight as it swoops and veers and takes off in the direction she's indicated. ]

[It's not as if Leia is against racing. Far from it, in fact. What she is against is what she thinks is unfair. Han gets a good few seconds' head start on Leia toward the target before she can maneuver her bird around and get going.

She isn't sure whether Han can even hear her while flying like this, but that's not about to stop her from yelling anyway.]

You took a head start, Han!

So what?

[ he crows, swooping a little more dramatically than he needs to. Which she can use to her advantage, but who can resist some style?

He likes racing, even if it's on awful birds, and somehow a little healthy competition seems like the right thing for the strange tension between them. ]

[She absolutely does take advantage of Han's showiness, cutting a shorter, more direct turn as he swoops. He's still ahead, but she's close enough now that they shouldn't have to yell to be heard. Not that that's ever stopped them before, though.]

It's not called racing at that point. It's called cheating.

It can't be cheating, there weren't any rules.

[ Check and mate, your highness. He flashes her a smirk, the effect slightly ruined by a bitten-off yelp as the bird dives and swoops again.

But like hell is he going to let her win. As soon as he gets himself righted he leans forward, urging the bird on, trying to get back that lead. ]

[Rather than getting huffy about Han's cockiness, that bitten-off yelp brings out a satisfied smirk for Leia, taking some satisfaction in the fact that Han can't bask in his currently unearned lead.]

I think even your bird knows that's not true. He doesn't want to be ridden by a cheater.

He's just taking a shortcut! A.... terrible shortcut.

[ he grouses, though he's closer to laughing. This is ridiculous, how the hell did she talk him into this? ]

[Leia bites back a smile of her own, but if Han is able to look close enough, her amusement is apparent.

At least until her bird decides flying so far apart from its flock is too exposed and vulnerable for its tastes. Her bird dives, mimicking Han's from moments before, and Leia lets out a rather undignified yelp as it swoops closer.]

You need to stop giving them ideas.

Tell them that, they started it.

[ They're a bit better balanced now, anyway. ]

At least ships you can reason with.

They seem a bit too pleased with themselves, if you ask me.

[They actually just seem like your typical giant bird, not doing much more than flying as directed now and occasionally chirping, but Leia is absolutely taking that as the birds being smug and pleased with their diving antics.]

And I think that depends on the ship in question, Hotshot.

Says who?

[ Han can sweet-talk the Falcon, he can can manage any ship.

(Well, most of the time, he can.) ]

I believe I just did.

[But rather than continuing an argument that she knows is just going to end as no you, Leia has her eyes on a different prize, and urges her bird forward, swooping toward the building they've been racing toward.]

[ Fundamentally, don't all their arguments end like that? ]

Hey!

[ He urges his feathery steed onward, which initially makes it swoop side to side, uselessly pulling away from the course she's plotted out. But he does speed up, eventually drawing back, nearly neck and neck with her. ]

Yaugur System Mingle

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