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 Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 5:56 pm
C’ren’s first action when he woke up was to immediately regret doing so. It had, in many ways, been a nice night. A really nice night, actually, from what he could fuzzily remember. It wasn’t that he couldn’t hold his liquor… it was just that the stuff he had picked up at the Gather was stronger than he thought it would be. At least he had shared it with F’sey. With a groan, C’ren glared at the glowbasket, which seemed to be glowing oddly sharply for this time of day. That just wasn’t right. It ought to have been illegal. He glowered at the basket for several minutes before he realized that his glare just wouldn’t work. In the end, he got up and just threw the glows---basket and all----out into the hallway so they couldn’t offend him any more.
And then he was suddenly extremely thirsty. Shuffling over to the table, he hopefully prodded the empty skin of wine. Unfortunately, it was indeed empty. If he wanted something to drink, he’d just have to get it himself. Or get Pyrite or Vox to do it… well, Pyrite, actually. Sending Vox to the kitchen was pretty much an invitation to disaster. After a bit of rummaging around, he eventually found the waterskin that he had intended to drink the night before, just to prevent hangovers like this.
…
Sort of obvious that something important had happened. Normally he wouldn’t forget that sort of thing. He sat down at the small table and carefully set the cards aside in a neat pile. F’sey would probably kill him if h… oh no. The dam of alcohol had broken and the flood of memories came back. Some of them, anyway, which was more than enough for him. Oh Faranth… F’sey was going to kill him. In a horrible bloody fashion that would make the weyr into a huge mess!
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 6:29 pm
C'ren's prayers were not to be answered on this morning.
"C'REN. WHAT IN FARNATH'S NAME IS THIS?" came the mighty bellow.
If his weyr wasn't attached to the main hall, F'sey might have kicked the door it. But it was, and it would take some time to be fixed, and F'sey didn't like the idea of sacrificing his privacy for that long, even if the effect would would have been marvelous. Taking a deep breath, he with held the desire and let himself in, searching wildly for his roommate.
"C'REN WHY DID YOU LET ME GO OUTSIDE LIKE THIS?"
He stormed in, slamming the door with such force even Ialluth looked up, hints of green whirling in her eyes as she tried to talk to sense into her rider. Unfortunately, the weyrlingmaster was absolutely refusing to listen to the voice of reason, be it the splitting headache or his pretty green dragon speaking ho him. He was not going to settle until he caught that little rat. F'sey wasn't exactly sure WHAT he was going to do with C'ren, but there would be one serious price to pay.
His neck. And his weyrling had seen.
C'ren was at the table. F'sey strode over, mind helpfully blank. He halted in front of the younger rider and growled, the snarl just as maneating as it had ever been while he tried to stare down his...roommate. "You let me go out. With hickeys. IN THE PLURAL."
Ialluth turned to Ceylith. At least he is only upset with how it looks...and not that it was done, she consented.
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 6:42 pm
For the love of… and now F’sey was yelling. It was not a good morning for yelling! It wasn’t a good day for anything, except perhaps some hardcore snuggling. If C’ren had been anyone else, he might have backed down from the impressive show of raw anger from F’sey. But, thankfully, he wasn’t. He had been himself his whole life and knew just how to handle an angry F’sey. Very slowly, he took a long drink from the waterskin and studied the hated hickey.
“I’d say,” he said, carefully pronouncing every word as if worried that they might sound off if he didn’t control them, “Those are the best hickeys I’ve made.”
Oh, F’sey had gone out like that? On some level, C’ren rather liked that. But, on another, it completely panicked him. “F’sey, be reasonable,” he said in his very best, ‘please don’t murder me’ voice. “I was asleep when you woke up. I couldn’t stop you since I was asleep.”
“…and it’s not like people have never seen a hickey before. I’m fairly sure it’s not a life-threatening condition.” Although, with ‘Sey’s pride it might as well be. Threatening for other people who happened to comment on the aforementioned hickies, anyway. C’ren found himself almost hoping that would happen, if only to thin out some of the overcrowding.
All of the anger woke up Ceylith as well. The Green stretched out on her stone couch and listened to the angry shouting from inside. With worry whirling in her eyes, she turned to Ialluth for some guidance. Should we do something? I don’t want Yours to be upset with Mine. Or the other way around… she said. It was indeed a good thing that Ialluth’s was only angry over the appearance of the neck marks rather than their actual existence.
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 7:10 pm
"People, maybe, BUT MY WEYRLING? MY BLASTED, SHARDING WEYRLING SAW IT." Oh, dear. He was bordering hysterical. Neighbors and any passerbys could probably hear the shrieking and Farnath knew his poor green was trying to duck her head and pretend this wasn't happening. All her plans, slipping away, and for what? A good drink? A few kisses Hers wasn't even appreciating right now?
A deep breath. Two. Three even. F'sey closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose before opening his eyes and meeting C'ren's gaze. At least he was using the 'I don't want to die, I'm too young' tone. He had that going for him, at the very least. (And they were good hickeys, F'sey could give him that too, but that was precisely the problem.)
"So what, praytell, should we so about this?" he finally asked, forced quiet. His face was steely and he was not looking nearly as cuddly as he did last night. Damn alcohol. He always was a bleeding idiot intoxicated.
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 7:25 pm
Ceylith let out a low noise, with yellow whirling clearly in her eyes. Now she really was worried. She didn’t want all of the hard work she and Ialluth had put into this to dissolve. Besides, F’sey was really angry now. Anyone could sense it. Mentally, she nudged C’ren and gave him a bit of advice, Mine, you might want to try pleading a little instead of being so proud. Ialluth’s is really upset over this…
And for a good reason, C’ren supposed a little belatedly. F’sey cared a lot about his reputation, especially with his weyrlings. All of that rawr, rawr stuff, well, it was a good show, really. Not completely, of course, but F’sey was mostly bluff from what C’ren could see.
That is, until the older Greenrider started using his Angry Voice. The yelling earlier, that hadn’t been angry. That was just F’sey being himself. But now he had gone all quiet, as if to let himself hear his own thoughts, possibly ones concerning the best way to murder his… roommate without getting in trouble. Now it was time to worry a little.
“Well, what am I supposed to do about it now? You could try wearing a shirt with a higher neck or something, I guess. Or what? Do you want me to track down this weyrling of yours and threaten him? ‘You didn’t see nothing’, perhaps?”
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 7:48 pm
A hand on his hip, his fingers drumming against his belt as he sized C'ren up. He could definitely kill him. He could pounce him, strangle him, wrap him up in the furs and carry his body out. No one would know! Well, no one but Ceylith. And if she betweened, the whole Weyr would know. He might feel bad, too. She was Ialluth's friend, and it wasn't her fault C'ren was such a dimglow...even if she did pick him.
He ground his teeth thoughtfully, setting his jaw as he tried to decide what he was going to do to his...roommate. "I cannot harm a weyrling. Not one that did nothing to deserve it. I absolutely refuse." Not even a threat, not when the lad didn't actually deserve it. In fact, if not for S'van, he may have gone out and about without even knowing. Who knew would have seen him then! People certainly would have head to die...
It was then Ialluth noted dutifully that Galliath's was a hero, and she should thank him whenever they met again.
"...I'm going to have to cancel the weyrling lessons today," F'sey said firmly, even though he knew that was impossible. What he needed was an assistant to cover for him when he was under the weather.
All the sudden, the weyrlingmaster brightened, the dark look giving way to that terrible, toothy smile. "C'ren. 'Ren. 'Renny. I think you owe me one, don't you? Why don't you teach my lessons today, since I've got these terrible bruises."
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 8:00 pm
“Alright then. So, you agree that you can’t harm whatever weyrling saw you?” Good, good. They were making headway then. C’ren very slowly relaxed, although he kept his eyes on F’sey. If he made a single move, the younger Greenrider would be sure to move faster. He didn’t need a horrible bloody death as well as an angry … roommate and a headache. “Right, well, sit down already. Have some water. It’ll help with the headache.”
He mostly ignored the rant about canceling the Weyrling Lessons. They both knew it wasn’t possible. With the dragons growing by the day, it was important for everything to be in order. And C’ren was a great believer in order. “Eh? Aren’t they learning something important today? Like dragon cleaning or somethi--”
Oh s**t. F’sey was using the name. ‘Ren was fine. That was good. But nothing good was ever proceeded with ‘Renny’. Instantly, C’ren found himself looking for a good escape route. Maybe if he leapt and rolled he could just barely get by F’sey… Faranth, but that smile was an evil one, the sort that hungry Felines gave to wounded wherries. And the younger Greenrider hated to think of himself as a wounded wherry. “You weren’t exactly trying to stop me, you know,” he said reproachfully. “And it’s your job. Just wear a shirt with a high collar. Or keep your hair down. It covers them up pretty well. Well, except for that one. And that one. And mayb--”
Ok, he should just shut up now. C’ren wisely shut his mouth, although he suspected it was several minutes too late.
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 8:17 pm
F'sey finally gave up, rubbing his face and moaning his exasperation. Apparently, he could not guilt C'ren into this. He was never good at guilting anyone into anything; for that to work, they'd actual have to feel bad for him and considering he'd spent turns upon turns making sure no one ever made the mistake of pitying him...well... Damnit, this was not working.
"I need a plan, C'ren. I cannot where a shirt with a high neck. We're in Ista, C'ren! People will notice. And there are so maaaany." F'sey resisted the urge to plant his face on the desk. Instead, he finally took his seat next to C'ren and signed deeply. "I don't...lknow what I am trying to say." And with that, he gave up completely, wondering instead what he could do with this headache and how bad he would feel if Ceylith betweened because C'ren died in a strange accident.
"....todayisgoingtobeabadday."
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Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 8:26 pm
Ok, now he was upset. That was worse than angry because and angry person could only punch you in the face. An upset one would merely pummel your mind into submission instead. Well, at least C’ren had practice with upset people. It happened, occasionally, after Flights in which an unfortunate ‘straight’ man’s Blue happened to catch Ceylith. C’ren’s reaction to the man’s blathering the next morning had been to smack him in the back of the head. Somehow, he sensed, that wouldn’t work with his… roommate. A more delicate touch was needed.
He wasn’t sure what would work. There were two options here. He could either run now while F’sey was panicking. That would be a good reaction, if this was some sort of a trick to get C’ren’s guard down. Or he could sort of… like… hug the other man or something. It shouldn’t have been that awkward of a thought, all things considered, but it was. He eyed the hickies, feeling a twinge of pride and not an ounce of regret. Well, maybe a small bit, but only because they had sent F’sey into a panic.
Tentatively, he patted F’sey on the shoulder, hoping that the movement wouldn’t send the other Greenrider into a whirlwind of anger. “I don’t get why you’re upset about this. This is a Weyr and all. These things happen all the time.” Especially in the presence of alcohol. “Come on, drink some water, alright, ‘Sey? It’ll make you feel better to drink something at least.”
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Posted: Thu May 21, 2009 7:29 am
F'sey said nothing when C'ren patted him on the shoulder, simply rumbling as he considered grabbing the man's arm and flipping him over his shoulder and to the floor. That, however, did not feel very effective and for whatever reason, revenge was looking less and less attractive as the moments wore on. Perhaps it had something to do with his own involvement in the matter; the younger greenrider was correct in that F'sey had never expressed any disinterest in what was going on last night. Getting revenge would mean he felt terribly wronged which, as long as he was remember this right, and he was fairly sure he was not so old his memory was failing him, he did not.
The weyrlingmaster remained silent for much longer than he probably realized, finally taking a swig from the offered waterskin as he tried to calmly assess the situation. So. He'd been at the Gather with C'ren. Yes. He got raging drunk over the course of the eve. Yes. He was not good with liquor and this was something he always knew. Yes. At some point he and C'ren had done a rather lot of kissing. Yes.
And with none of that being unnerving, F'sey rubbed his neck and discarded the idea that he was going to have to kill C'ren, because the man certainly did not deserve to day. He was simply going to have to maim him or some such...or something. He'd think about that once he'd salvaged his own reputation.
"...I need to find a shirt with a high neck. You have any of those, 'Ren...?"
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Posted: Thu May 21, 2009 12:25 pm
Okay. Since F’sey was still rather annoyed over… something that C’ren couldn’t quite figure out, there was probably a three second limit on touching. Maybe after C’ren had eaten something he’d be better able to figure out what the older Greenrider was so upset over. Sure, it was a bit embarrassing to wander around with hickies on one’s neck, but hey; at least they were there, right? It meant he was getting some attention from someone. Unless, of course, F’sey was upset over them just being there…
He’s not, Ceylith cut in when she got a chance. Ialluth says he’s not. And a dragon was always correct when it came to her rider. The younger Green was feeling fairly pleased now, since it seemed that C’ren would escape death again. Maybe not a horrible maiming, but maybe that would just teach him a lesson not to get F’sey drunk again.
…Okay… so F’sey wasn’t that upset about the hickies being there. Right. He had said ‘why did you let me go outside with these’ and not ‘why did you do this to me’. That was… err… good, right? C’ren felt like it was a good thing. “Yeah, I’ve got one somewhere.”
Actually, it was the one he normally wore after Flights, but that would just be creepy to say so. Once he was fairly certain that F’sey wouldn’t try to kill him once his back was turned, C’ren ambled over to the chest that contained his clothes. It took a bit of digging through before he found the high-collared shirt. It was a fairly normal garment. No garish colors. Nicely cleaned. It was very… well… normal. He offered it to F’sey, thinking how lucky it was that they were both about the same height. C’ren was about two inches taller, but that wouldn’t matter much.
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Posted: Sat May 23, 2009 5:31 pm
F'sey accepted the shirt, well unaware that is was C'ren's Post-Flight shirt. It was in everyone's best interest, of course, that he never become aware of the shirt's prior status among his...roommate's garments. Given, the item in question was fairly indiscriminate, so they were probably all safe, anyways. That was never safe to assume, though. Not with this greenrider.
But all that aside, F'sey wasn't actually thinking a whole lot right now. Mostly about the plainness of the shirt and just how terrible it would be to actually go to Weyrling lessons with these hickies on his neck. (How many were there, anyways?)
...all this thought was getting him no where. Without further ado, F'sey peeled off the shirt he had on and tossed it towards his side of the small room; he'd fold it and take care of it when he had more time. It probably wouldn't please C'ren much, clothes lying around, but he had more important things to do. His...roommate could deal with his own strange neatness fetishes.
F'sey leaned over and grabbed the shirt (he had to put it down while he pulled off the other one) and tugged it over his head, making a small, disgruntled noise when he realized it had messed up his ponytail. Weyrling lessons were going to be starting late today. There was no way around this. He'd have to come up with a lie better than 'I was hatching a flit' as well, because he didn't even keep the little green as proof! Muttering unhappily to himself, the weyrlingmaster pulled his hair down and started to fuss with the collar.
"C'ren, are they hidden now?"
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Posted: Sat May 23, 2009 5:47 pm
C’ren sighed as F’sey simply tossed the shirt aside, idly wondering whether they still lived in the same civilization or not. Shirts did not belong on the floor! Well… ok, sometimes, it was permissible… C’ren fussed over folding the shirt or at least he pretended to. What he really was doing was eyeing F’sey with more than a little pride. Ha. Yeah. He made those marks on his neck. They probably wouldn’t fade for days, a fact that the young Greenrider was absurdly proud of.
And, of course, F’sey had a nice chest. And strong shoulders. Very nice. As soon as C’ren’s … roommate was finished dressing, however, the younger Greenrider developed an extreme interest in absolutely everything else. In particular, he was focused on folding the shirt. Very, very carefully. He put on his very best expression of befuddled innocence as F’sey asked him for a bit of help.
There was absolutely no way that C’ren could stop himself from doing what happened next. Putting the folded shirt to one side, he walked over to stand in front of F’sey and promptly fussed around with the collar. It was so sorely tempting to ‘accidentally’ move it so something was visible, but C’ren actually wanted to live a little while longer. Finally, he stopped messing around and took a step back to observe his handiwork. Well, his new handiwork.
“Right. There you go. Have a good day at class, F’sey,” he said, as if this was completely normal for two … roommates to do.
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Posted: Sat May 23, 2009 6:10 pm
Of course C'ren would go and fold the shirt immediately. Of course he would. And, if F'sey wasn't mistaken, his...roommate was definitely checking him out while he was changing. Which was...odd? It was a weird sensation, that was certain. Most people had enough good sense to just leave him the hell alone. Getting the once over (twice over?) hadn't happened in Turns. Or so he'd like to think, because basically, that meant his scare-of-civilization tactics were working.
Of course...this was not unwelcome. And that was probably the odd part of it. For whatever reason, the fact that it was C'ren checking him didn't surprise the older greenrider one bit. (If it were anyone else, he'd have killed them, on the spot. Even Ialluth couldn't prevent such a thing.) His...roommate had always been really strange. The need to fold his shirts really said everything you need to know about C'ren.
Actually, quite frankly, the fact they met trying to escape the lice probably explained their entire...friendship.
"...uh. Thanks." A seemingly endless silence. F'sey then reached forward, wrapped a hand around C'ren's neck, and dragged him in for a kiss.
Another endless silence later, he finally said, "...still good when sober." A nod. F'sey started to gather himself to head out to lessons. "Good to know."
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Posted: Sat May 23, 2009 6:24 pm
It’s a common misconception that there are only four elements: wind, earth, fire, and water. In fact, there is another element, one that grabbed C’ren right there: Surprise. Surprise and shock. Those were the first things that C’ren felt at the kiss.
The next thing he thought was, ‘Well, it’s about sharding time!’ because he had been standing there waiting for a while. Honestly, he had been playing with the idea of surprising F’sey himself! But, since he’d already made the first move the night before, he figured it was the other man’s turn.
“Yes. Very good to know,” he said, going to sit back in his chair until he felt better. No, his legs didn’t feel weak! He just… really needed a drink of water right now. “…We’ll talk later,” he said dismissively, since he felt one of them had to say it.
Admittedly, he didn’t say it until F’sey had left the weyr, but, come on. Baby steps. They needed to take baby-steps.
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