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 Posted: Tue Jan 01, 2013 5:33 pm
‘Don’t use your hands,’ Bereck said. ‘Don’t use them for anything other than baking delicious klah cookies’, he didn’t say, but Taavi had a knack for picking out the words that weren’t there (the ones, in fact, that he only wished existed). Unfortunately, there was a problem with these very simple orders. It was a large problem.
It’s name was Gustav.
“I’m just saying, you could’ve been just a bit more judicious about when you need oiling,” Taavi said. He’d never before really considered how much a person used hands but it turned out that they were used for everything. Well, everything that required hands. Things such as ‘hauling buckets’ fell broadly into this category, which meant the wherhandler was awkwardly hauling a bucket loaded with rags and a bottle of rather sweetly-scented oil in the crook of his elbow. And he hadn’t even begun to think about how he’d oil the wher.
Neither had Gustav, but, as far as the brown wher was concerned, that was Taavi’s problem. He gave his handler a Look. It was of such the sort that demanded an entry in a highly specific dictionary. Taavi’s skin crawled as the wher sent the exact sensations he was undergoing. Hide-itching was more or less the message sent, although it wasn’t in words. Gustav didn’t bother with words.
He went straight for the blood and bone of communication. These were things that existed long before words came to define them and he wasn’t going to start using mere words now. They never measured up. It wasn’t as though Taavi had anything better to do, Gus knew. Left to his own devices, his human would just mope around. A quick walk outside wouldn’t harm him. Besides, Gus liked the fresh air of the jungle, since it brought thick scents, of plants and animals, things that roamed just around the corner. It brought life. The wher’s nostrils flared. Just there, just beyond the perimeter, was the jungle. It had been days since he’d been out there.
This was the next best thing.
The wher stopped abruptly and flopped onto the dirt. This was far enough away from the Weyr. He wasn’t about to drag Taavi too far.
“Here then, huh? Fine. For all the fuss you put up about getting me to the Healer, you’d think you’d be a bit more considerate about my health the rest of the time. But nope! Apparently my hands can just plain suffer, so long as your hide gets all oiled and svelte. Not even as though you’re trying to impress any ladywhers.” Taavi paused as he poured the oil into the bucket. “Or manwhers, far as I know. You don’t want to tell me, do you?”
Vague disinterest was all he got from Gustav.
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Posted: Tue Jan 01, 2013 6:32 pm
Taavetti had the fortune of not being mentally connected to a creature that talked as much as he did. If there were such a thing, they would end up talking a black hole into being and absorbing the entirety of the world. V'tyai and Ogbanuth had the exact opposite bond, right down to Oggie being the nice one of the bunch along with the pretty one (and the half with the low, smooth baritone).
Perhaps it is wisest to not plunge onto the dirt when about to receive an oiling. murmured a large blue dragon-lump from beyond Taavi and Gustav, his slick-looking hide hidden in the clumps of shadows in the jungle. He spoke to them both, uncaring of that little thing called 'manners' with the dragonkin. Ogbanuth lifted himself from the shade - it'd been sunny when he fell asleep - and slowly started towards what patches of sunlight remained of the day. Heat came in large quantities in the Southern bit of Pern, after all.
Ogbanuth collapsed in one of the brighter parts of earth some distance away from the wher and his human, a living puddle of half-moving blue dragon. Not that there is anything wrong with dirt, he added at length, thoughtful. The oil just makes it itch more. Mine used to complain about it quite extensively, if I'm searching his mind correctly.
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Posted: Tue Jan 01, 2013 6:42 pm
Ohfaranthscorchitthatwasadragon. What Taavi had taken for a particularly hideous rock (one that hadn’t been there earlier, but the wherhandler wasn’t known for his observational powers) was actually a particularly hideous dragon. Taavi let out a particularly surprised sound best described as a shriek but he would insist it was a yelp. Yelps were more manly.
“Shards and shells, Oggie! Warn a man before you loom like that! And thank you so much for letting me know, Gus,” he demanded, knowing no such thing would happen ever. Dragons and whers had very different manners. For instance, with whers, it was perfectly permissible to bite someone else on the face, when first meeting them. Still, as far as dragons went, Oggie wasn’t bad. At least he was someone to talk to, given as Gustav had all the oratory techniques commonly shared with a mountain. A telepathic mountain.
“Anyway, good luck convincing this lump of wherflesh of anything. He makes up his mind and there’s not a force that can unmake it. What brings you out here anyway, Oggie?” In a movement as casual as Taavi could manage, he glanced around for V’tyai. Now there was a man who didn’t loom suddenly but still shared the disconcerting habit of showing up whenever you least expected him.
Gustav-itching, Gustav sent emphatically to the blue dragon. At least on the dirt he could wriggle and scratch a little bit. He rubbed his chin against the ground to make his point, flaking off a few dry bits. He didn’t stop until he felt the wet slap of oiled cloths against his hide.
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Posted: Tue Jan 01, 2013 7:21 pm
Oggie sent Gustav a mental image of a small canine pup he'd watched rolling around in the dirt. It came with the vague sense of hungry... but the wher would understand, as far as Ogbanuth was concerned. Whers were creatures of hunger such as himself and he felt absolutely no shame in wanting to eat a delicious little puppy. Nom nom.
Huge still lump he was, and Taavi not being an overly subtle person, Ogbanuth rumbled at his glance. He shifted in place to get comfortable and then sighed, sinking further. We came out and I do believe I fell asleep. V'tyai is fetching some food for himself. His muzzle peeled back in a dragon version of a smile to reveal his unpleasant grin, and then Ogbanuth pillowed his head on his claws. No need to fret, little baker.
"Are you harassing people again, you huge ugly bump?" V'tyai's voice carried from around the blue. The older man grumbled and shoved at an extra roll of hide as he walked around on the side that had his dragons head -- and a Taavi. The Baker blinked, his side bag heavy with his dinner rations and a wineskin (or two). Then he scowled, successfully wiping away the split second of open surprise. "What are you doing out here?"
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Posted: Tue Jan 01, 2013 7:39 pm
Gus’ response was sharp and immediate: blood-warm-throat-bite. It was practically friendly, since the ‘throat-bite’ wasn’t directed towards the dragon, but rather at any warm-blooded creatures that might be in the jungle. Including puppies, although he couldn’t recall seeing any out there. He looked at the jungle with something approaching interest; having never encountered baby canines before, he was intrigued by the possibility of tiny bite-sized morsels…
“Yeah, that used to be my reaction to them too, Gus. Mind you, we would’ve eaten anything,” Taavi muttered, getting at least the wher’s half of the ‘conversation’. He wiped his mouth, trying to get rid of that sudden burst of blood. It was all in his head, he knew. Specifically, all in the bit of his head marked ‘Gustav’. “And I’m not fretting! Or, if I am, it’s only ‘cos your rider tends to show up just when you don’t expect him to. Such as when he’s being talked about. Like now, for instance.”
It worked like a charm, didn’t it?
It was, perhaps, the only charm V’tyai had. Taavi grinned all the same. Dramatically putting one hand to his chest, he pulled a sadface. Possibly, he pulled it from a sack. “Now, that right there just breaks my poor little heart, V’tyai. You going all caring about the possibility of Oggie bothering someone, only to stop caring the moment you realize it’s me. I don’t know how much longer my poor feelings can take it. Anyway, it’s Gus’ fault that we’re out here. He’s the one who whined until I came out here to oil him.”
Which reminded him, he really had to get back to that. Awkwardly fumbling with bandaged fingers and hands, he did his best to run the rags over the wher’s hide. “He’s just got the best sense of timing, this beast.”
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Posted: Tue Jan 01, 2013 7:58 pm
Gus and his response received a wave of approval from the forever hungry blue. V'tyai showed up and took over the conversation something more than satisfactory with Ogbanuth. He drifted back off into his own lazy contemplation, watching the scene unfold through V'tyai's eyes, all but tasting his riders hesitation.
The Baker rolled his eyes and started pulling out the food. He used the side bag for a little blanket, plunking the bread, cheese, and roasted strips of meat with a skin of wine. A second bag, he clipped to his belt. It didn't have only wine in it and like hell was he going to leave it somewhere Taavi would grab at.
"Funny, I didn't know you had feelings." He groused, his voice lacking acidity. Taavi looked as if he couldn't quite get a hold of the-- And then he noticed the bandages. Already narrowed eyes turned to slits. V'tyai stormed across the short distance to the wherhandler, one hand grabbing at his elbow. "What happened to your hands?"
Did somebody hurt you? It'd have been the next question to ask, if the words didn't stick in his throat, easily covered by an even more fierce scowl. A prisoner? Would he have to have stern words with a prisoner and totally not put his hands on them? If it was a guard or crafter, though, their a** would start to fertilize the ground tomorrow.
Yes. Because Gustav would allow someone to live that hurt his human. Ogbanuth purred to his human in private.
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Posted: Tue Jan 01, 2013 8:14 pm
“See, now you’re just trying to be cruel. You know I’ve got feelings. I’ve got at least three. Wait, ‘hunger’ is a feeling, right? And, of course, there’s ‘se---” whatever else his other emotions were, V’tyai didn’t seem to want to wait and find out. Compared to some of the other riders, V’tyai was… well, the only word for it was ‘soft’.
He was also deceptively quick and had Taavi’s arm in his hands before the wherhandler could react.
“Easy there! If you go around showing off you’ve got emotions yourself besides anger, I’ve no idea what’ll happen. A riot maybe,” Taavi joked automatically, because that was how he reacted to slightly tense situations. Half of his attention focused itself on Gustav. The wher hadn’t moved. Huh. Odd, that. Normally, he was onto someone long before they made any sort of move that could be considered aggressive…
Gustav snorted.
not kill taavi’s favorite…
Taavi shoved the wher’s thoughts from his mind and gently pulled his arm back out of V’tyai’s grip. “Anyway, don’t worry about it. I grabbed a kettle that was falling. In retrospect, I’m pretty sure the floor would’ve been hurt less than me. Bereck says things’ll be fine. I’m just off of active patrolling for a while, except for in the halls. Gus misses the hunts already.”
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Posted: Tue Jan 01, 2013 8:43 pm
Taavi had enough knowledge in him to not call V'tyai 'soft' to his face. It'd happened before with someone else, of course, and they ended up with a dislocated nostril somewhere in their ear. It happened, somehow. He never questioned the logistics on just how. He kept his scowl in place and did his best not to tighten his hand with Taavi and his stupid joke.
Stupid Taavi.
"I'm pretty sure the look on my face is angry," He stared hard at Taavi until the wherhandler moved his arm away. The bluerider didn't move closer or try to touch him again. No, he shuffled back with another grumble and poured himself a glass of wine from the untainted wine skin. A sip of wine and a vicious chew of bread later, he grumped a little less, his eyes trained on Taavi and his hands with a less ugly frown.
".. Should you be using oils with your hands like that, then?"
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Posted: Tue Jan 01, 2013 8:57 pm
“No, trust me. ‘Angry’ is slightly different. It’s when you refuse to talk at all. I should write that down. Sort of a dictionary of body language of V’tyai. It’ll be a best-seller all throughout the prison. ‘Short-sharp sigh: means he’s exasperated but you can probably continue with whatever you’re doing’…” One of the unwritten rules of Warden’s was probably ‘don’t piss off the guards’. Taavi could’ve done with having a written copy. Then again, he’d survived, hadn’t he? Far as he was concerned, that meant he was doing something right.
He rubbed his nose with his wrist as best he could before answering the man’s question. “Probably not. Bereck will get on my case, if he finds out. But what else can I do? It’s not like I can just let poor Gustav suffer. You know, because he’s such a delicate flower. I daren’t crush his petals by not immediately oiling his hide.” The sarcastic words were cemented with an affectionate slap to Gustav’s hide, delivered with the rag. Even Taavi learned eventually.
“Gustav is just being a pansy and won’t let me have a rest until he’s oiled.”
The brown wher snorted again. lazy human, he shared with the blue dragon. Taavi was even attempting to bribe Healers with klah cookies, just to get out of book-fetching duty.
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Posted: Wed Jan 02, 2013 10:34 am
Taavi finished his little rambling on Vit and his expressions, the blue rider did indeed give that short-sharp sigh and shook his head with lips pursed tight. He accepted the wher handlers rambling at any rate and stepped further back from him and the wher. A decent human would probably offer to help with the oiling process or something.
Then again, Taavi already joked about him having emotions once. V'tyai stepped back again to his food and took another bite of bread, chewing slowly. He drained the wine and refilled it with the fellis laced stuff before turning back to Taavetti.
"I won't tell him," he said instead of anything helpful at all. "Does it hurt?" Not that he'd offer him any of the drugged wine. Nope, that was all for V'tyai and the pounding on his side.
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Posted: Wed Jan 02, 2013 11:45 am
“By the first golden egg, was that a second inquiry after my well-being? I feel downright blessed. If you go asking any more questions on the subject, I may even begin to think you’ve got feelings beyond annoyance. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone either, Vit.” How easily the nickname leapt to his lips. Still, after knowing the man for… what? Five turns now? Taavi felt like he earned the right to call V’tyai by a shortened version of his name. Besides, if it annoyed the Bluerider too much, he could always ask Taavi to stop it.
Which, admittedly, only had a 75% success record, but still. That was better than a 0% one that would result if he didn’t ask.
“Yeah, a bit. Bereck says I’ve got second-degree burns. But they look better than they did on the first day. I think I’m even getting my fingerprints back. Still, I’m looking forward to getting back on duty. Having time off is only fun if you’ve got something to do with your time off. Turns out nearly everything requires hands.”
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Posted: Wed Jan 02, 2013 11:04 pm
V'tyai pressed his lips together again in a quiet glower, felt his shoulders stiffen with the continued poking at his questions. Instead of snap back, he sat down next to Ogbanuth and sulked, legs crossed and both hands wrapped around his mug of spiked wine. Saying nothing could lead the wherhandler into a one-sided discussion about V'tyai's quiet and how he could possibly be pondering the end of the world or perhaps beasts lurking in the shadows of between. Taavi had a way of twisting things to make it a conversation piece, regardless of how horrible it happened to be.
"Everything requires hands," He said after a long moment. "Especially whers. I'm sure your fans were absolutely beside themselves."
Ogbanuth snorted. And as the only other being with any sense, Ogs sent Gustav a slow amusement at the situation and silly stupid two legged. Ogbanuth had no shells to give.
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 9:29 am
Now that was interesting. Taavi regarded V'tyai with a cocked head. Normally, when the wherhandler used some sort of affectionate nickname---- like Mister Grumpybritches-----or something, the bluerider was immediately telling him to stop. It never worked, of course. But there was a rhythm to these things.
Either V'tyai was finally learning that saying 'stop that' didn't work (which didn't fit the cantankerous man at all) or he simply didn't oppose the name 'Vit'. Huh.
"Oh, absolutely. Much wailing and tearing of the hair, people just waiting for my magic fingers to get back into action." Beat. "I'm referring, of course, to people who want my baked goods." Certainly not anything else his fingers could perform, because it would be extremely unclassy to bring up such a thing.
But hilarious anyway.
So... this was courtship, was it? Gustav wasn't impressed. Couldn't Taavi just be like a wher and wait for Vit to Run? But nope! Humans always had to make everything so complicated. He sent waves of agreement towards the large Blue: their humans were, indeed, very stupid.
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 10:28 am
He ignored the study from the wherhandler, pointedly looking down into his cup of wine. V'tyai pretended the fellis started to hit him despite it not even poking at his brain, face closed off save for a minor scowl. It wasn't the nickname he opposed to so much as the fact Taavi said it and would probably end up running rampant with it, making fun at the fact he didn't protest the shortened name.
When Taavi didn't tease him about it the rigid line of his shoulders eased up a bit and the scowl softened at the edges. Okay then. Good. He could handle the nickname as long as Taavi didn't scream it across the mess hall or tease him about it. It should be okay.
His eyes snapped up in a patented Warden Glare from under his eyebrows at the wherhandler. "Shut up, Taavetti," He snapped, right back into that rhythm of Taavi being a pervert and Vit telling him to close it. "You're about as subtle as a rabid canine. Ugh. The kitchens are likely relieved you're gone." He could've followed that up with a 'I would be' but that just seemed overly mean for a routine grousing. He shook his head again and took another sip of his wine.
Ogbanuth sighed and melted further into the ground, willing himself to absorb as much of the heat still left as possible. If dragons could roll their eyes... He snorted instead. V'tyai wouldn't know courtship if it bit him on the a** (which he assumed the wherhandler would do if he thought it'd help). Silly, stupid, blind bluerider. The dragon himself just found it funny.
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