Peace Out
Who: Rhodya, W'ton, Gedroth, and Dasarth
Where: Hot Springs
When: Afternoon on day 3, month 8, turn 19
What: W'ton and Dasarth come upon Rhodya and Gedroth. The dragons get along. Their riders...yea, well, the dragons get along! At least mostly.
Note: Language. Lots of it.
Bubbles! Gedroth is surrounded by them, studying them with mild interest and popping them delicately with the tips of his talons. "Baby, put your arm down!" Rhodya orders from where she sits on his back. She wipes an arm across her forehead, smearing suds there too. When he obeys, she goes back to work on his neck, scrubbing it almost maniacally with a big, stiff-bristled brush. Flakes of loose hide join the suds as they seep down Gedroth's shoulder and into the water, providing him with that stream of bubbles he finds so curious.
It's unusual for Dasarth to be quite so dirty, but today he's definitely gotten himself dirty. All four paws are covered in mud and the remains of his meal. A fine layer of dust covers him everywhere else. Today he clearly celebrated his first flight with his rider by making a mess. Or maybe it's just their continued inability to get along and W'ton's ability to avoid the bronze's physical presence at least as much as he can. Now he needs a bath though so the two come into the hot springs together and head for the nearest pool big enough to allow the bronze to get scrubbed.
Gedroth is in that pool! And he's swiftly become one of the few who's happy to see the stubborn bronze, as he threatened he would when they had their good talk about dreams. The lanky brown warbles at his brother, tucking his nose into the water to push the bubbles Dasarth's way. << Hello, Dasarth. I heard you flew with your rider today. >> His own rider isn't so friendly: she glances up, sees who it is, and goes back to scrubbing Gedroth's neckridges with a vengeance. The first couple of times she ran into W'ton with his changed attitude, she was confused, but she's settled into a steady routine of giving him the cold shoulder by now.
Not that he's /happy/ to have someone to talk to like Gedroth who is annoying, but Dasarth doesn't seem to mind the brown. Yes, he doesn't mind him. So as he settles in the water he ignores the bubbles and says << We flew. Up. And then down again. >> He shares the images of their journey to the Star Stones and back down again after. As for W'ton he strips down to a pair of shorts before wading into the water and starting work on a forepaw covered in things best not dwelt upon. Let her ignore him! He'll just do it in return. << Have you flown yet? >> With Rhodya obviously.
Finishing up Gedroth's neck, Rhodya gives his shoulder a slap. "All right, duck down." The brown obeys, crouching so low that the water laps over his back, washing away the bubbles there, and Rhodya can just swim off to rinse her brush and get a fresh batch of sandsoap for when she returns. << No, we're going to do it in a few days. We had a chance the other day but Saulienth's rider needed so much attention, Rho thought we should just let the teachers concentrate on him. >> Ripples of amusement flow from his mind to Dasarth's as the brown shares his memory of a green-faced F'vel, clinging to the other, smaller brown for dear life.
Aha! He knows that story and Dasarth can share the amusement over F'vel. << I heard of that. We did not have that problem. >> Other than the bronze's continued troubles with take offs and landings at least. << It feels most different. With the weight. You must remember to compensate for it. >> His tone almost sounds like advice and not being bossy. Gasp! W'ton works on the first paw grumbling most of the time about gunk on talons and paws and everything. But eventually that first one is done and he can move on to the second one one although that does take away the body of Dasarth between him and his fellow weyrling.
Gedroth takes that advice and files it away, bobbing his head in thanks. << I have been walking on the ground, with her on my shoulders. It /is/ different, >> he agrees, delighted by this interesting fact. << She is so small, but it changes the way I can move my shoulders, and weights down my neck. >> He flings his neck up, enjoying its current freedom, and sends a spray of water flying off his skin. "Baby!" Rhodya scolds, stopping where she is to rub her eyes. Some of that water was still soapy, and it appears some of it got into her eyes. It hurts! She drops her brush in the water so she can cover her face with both hands, trying to push the sting of it away and probably making things worse, since she won't just leave her eyes alone.
Ah, the ground walking. Yes, Dasarth gives agreement for the difference with and without. << The first time you take off it feels weighted, but once in the air it is better. >> It's always better in the air for him though since he's kind of less than coordinated getting there. << Tell me when you go up. I would like to observe. >> Again his request/demand is made without it being obvious which he might mean. The bronze just ignores the bath he gets without getting in the way of it. Although his head does turn for a moment to observe Rhodya. It must, therefore, be him that alerts W'ton to the other weyrling's predicament. A word gets muttered under his breath before he drops the paw he was working on and moves over to where Rhodya stands. "Stop it," he says without thinking. "You need to rinse it out over...shells. Gimme your hand." So he might lead her to water free of anything.
Oops! Gedroth stretches his nose out to investigate Rhodya's suffering, but when W'ton comes over to help, the brown withdraws to watch from a distance. The other human will know how to help her better than he does. << Okay. I hope it goes well. Rho hasn't ridden any other dragons since I hatched and I want to be good quickly, so she can enjoy flying again. >> Rhodya is trying very hard not to whimper - it hurts so /much/! - but she manages to choke down the sound (with a sort of strangled squeak) when W'ton comes over. She pulls her elbow across her eyes, not fast enough to hide the tears that have sprung up there. "I don't want to. And watch your mouth," she adds peevishly. He said shells!
<< I am sure you will do well. >> Dasarth assures the brown with all the force of his personality. He's sure of everything after all. << Flying is what we have been practicing and getting ready for this whole time, yes. >> In case he forgot or something. Since W'ton's distracted he sinks down farther into the water to get some of the dust of flying and eating and what not off himself. "Shells, Rhodya! I'm so sorry for my bad sharding language. Whatever was I thinking when your delicate ears were here. You want your sharding eyes to get worse and you not get to fly then it's no skin off my nose." Ha! Take that. She's just lucky he didn't use the F word.
Fine, then! Rhodya takes her arm down, revealing a red flush around her irritated eyes, and punches W'ton's arm repeatedly with both fists. They're girly punches, barely punishing at all. "Stop that! You big, stupid jerk!" Punch! Gedroth flares his wings behind her, startled by her flare of temper. << That's very unusual, >> he tells Dasarth. << I've never seen that before. Excuse me. >> The brown turns his back on the whole scene, and suddenly Rhodya's deprived of the draconic sight that was allowing her to find W'ton's arm with her fists. Muscle memory avails her nothing, and her next swing misses by a mile, goes skidding across W'ton's back.
"Oh, language," W'ton taunts even though she's hitting him. He doesn't try to hit back. Duh. She's a girl. Nor does he move out of the way. << She does not hit? He tried to hit >> and there's a picture of T'rev although it's distorted through his rider's dislike of the older man. << But he did not hit. He was very mad. >> Still is actually his tone implies. Stepping back after that last punch W'ton shakes his head not that she sees. "Keep rubbing em. You could be another week on the sharding ground if you do." Yea. Now he's just taunting her and the laugh in his voice is not entirely nice. "But don't listen to me. I'm just a big, sharding, stupid jerk. Shells! Who'd give a shit what I said." Yea, he's mad.
Gedroth keeps his wings up, rustling them now and then as though to shake something off. << She doesn't hit, >> he replies. << It's very weird to listen to her right now, like staring through red cloth. >> His own mind becomes, for a beat, fuzzy and distant, as Rhodya's mind must feel to him now, clouded by rage. << It's very unusual, >> he says again, hiding behind a scientific interest that makes the situation seem less frightening, though the continued rustle of his wings gives him away. "I'm not rubbing them! I stopped, okay! Happy? Someone listened to you! Don't you feel all important." She thrashes around in the water, trying to find her way back to the shore on her own. She stubs her toe on something, hops up and down biting her lip, and takes it out on him. "/Jerk/!"
Aha! In this see Dasarth is experienced. He sends over to the brown some of his army. The sergeants march in and try to show the brown that this is perfectly normal even for one who has never done it before. << They sometimes feel a lot. We must allow it. If you are careful >> and here he has the scouts come in and show their sneaky ways << You might siphon some of it away until they can deal with it better. >> He is so helpful! Well, it's a chance to be a show off so of course he is being helpful. "Oh, I'm a jerk because you wouldn't take my help? Because it was more important for you to be pissed at me. Sure. That makes me a jerk and doesn't just make you stupid." If she wants to play that game then W'ton'll play along. "Now feel free to run along back to your fucking mentor and tell him what a jerk I am so clearly something is wrong and he should run tell it to anyone he can think of."
"Everybody knows what a jerk you are," Rhodya snaps at him, putting that stubbed toe back down. Now she's limping and blind, which would probably be hilarious if they weren't both so pissed off right now. "That's perfectly clear. You've been a big, huge, /stupid/ /jerk/ all along. And you know, I don't think you're in a position to lecture anybody about being pissed off!" Pissed off! She said a semi-naughty word there. Be afraid. A trickle of blood starts to flow into Gedroth's usually placid river, alarming the waterspiders that float on its surface. As they take off, hopping and skipping away from the scary thing, Gedroth's voice reasserts itself in a panic; to the experienced Dasarth, it's clear that he's taken on too much. << What do I do with it! This is very weird, this is very weird! >> And Rhodya, reaching shallower waters, suddenly gives up and falls to a sit, crying openly and loudly in the aftermath of Gedroth's emotional siphon.
"Sure, I'm the jerk. When T'rev just goes and lays shit on Hattie she doesn't need to deal with? I'm the jerk? When he decides there's something wrong with no basis of fact? Sure. I'm the jerk!" W'ton yells that last bit and the cavern echoes it quite nicely. Which is what shuts him up at least. And if Gedroth is alarmed it's no less than the bronzerider who's never been one to deal well with a woman crying. But since she made it clear she didn't want his help he doesn't move. Dasarth's not so stuck at least since he has no use for a human woman he can focus on Gedroth. << Easy >> Dasarth soothes the brown or at least tries to. The army sends in the engineers now to fix the water if he'll let it. With their amazing machines they'll siphon the blood off the water. And even though, obviously, the brown doesn't have the amazing stuff Dasarth does the technique is the same. << You must find the safe place for it to go. You must be calm. Do not share her unease. That is not what we should be doing now. We are too old. >> Surely though they are babies they are not /babies/, yes?
"I don't /care/!" Rhodya sobs, slapping water in the direction his voice came from. "I don't care what T'rev, or what Hattie, or what anybody did to you, they didn't make you a jerk! You're just throwing a - throwing a /tantrum/." And she'd know! "And they didn't make you do that!" Gedroth's river goes by, crashing and gurgling, completely seeped through with blood now, but he lets the engineers do their thing. It gets sent off into a reservoir, a small, ugly red pond that the toads consider dolefully and croak at. Back at the main river, though, the bugs timidly return to the surface, and a gentle wind sways the reeds. << I only meant to take a little bit, >> Gedroth confesses sheepishly. << It came out so very quickly. Thank you. >>
Arms folded over his chest W'ton just watches Rhodya and cannot keep from laughing quietly. "Crying will at least get that out of your eyes," he says and the smirk is evident in his tone. "Would have been easier my way, but whatever works for you." Shaking his head slowly he goes back to Dasarth who still needs a good scrubbing. "Sure. I've always been a jerk, right?" His tone is definitely of the 'whatever variety now. And his bronze still watches the brown. << It will take practice. >> All things take practice. << But when she has settled down you might speak to her about it. They must know what bothers us the same as we must learn what bothers them. You did very well though! >> Rally the troops! Cheer the newbie!
Rhodya gives him a nasty look. She tries to, anyway. Given the aforementioned puffy red eyes and streams of tears, it's hard for her to really pull it off. "I t-told you I didn't need your help," she sniffles, clearly trying to get a hold of herself. Yay for baby dragons and accelerated emotional recovery! Gedroth dares a glance over his shoulder, checking up on his rider visually now that she's calmed down a bit emotionally. << Do you mean I should ask her not to get so angry? >> asks the confused, all-innocent brown. His river has calmed now, but it's not yet its usual lazy self. Fat, stubby little fish keep poking their mouths to the surface, confused about where they should go.
"Yea, well, as you see I'm not offering my help." Indeed W'ton is actually washing Dasarth. Scrub, scrub, scrub. "Sure it went much better you getting all red eyed and toe stubbed and bawling like a baby." Oh, yea, he's definitely being Mr. Sensitive right now. The bronze is getting washed so he doesn't get involved with the human part of it all. << No, no. You should not ask her not to get angry. But you should ask her what gets her so upset. And suggest she learn ways to control herself. We have learned how to control ourselves, yes? >> Maybe not as much as he should, but it sounds good, yes? << She should not be mad at him. He was trying to help. >>
Rhodya smudges the tears off her cheeks, wiping them with the back of her arm. She's still glowering at W'ton. "Yeah, and you being a huge jerk sure got you somewhere. Sure proved a point with that." Gedroth turns back around and settles his wings at last, rustling them as they tuck into place along his back. << Oh, I know why she's upset. He has reminded her of another man she did not like, and she does not like what he's done to Elaruth's rider, and she thinks he's being childish, only maybe he has always been that way, so she feels she has been fooled again. She's also upset that he's being this way to her and she hasn't done anything. >> Gedroth relates this whole tangle of emotions as if it were the most matter-of-fact thing on earth, and made perfect sense to him. He's been in touch with the female mind since his hatching. << It's not because he was trying to help. >>
Scrub, scrub, scrub. Now all the paws are clean so W'ton moves on to the rest of him. All without talking to Rhodya. Not a word. Nope. Not a single one. Until he works back around to the side facing her again. "Excuse me? What the /fuck/ is your problem, Rhodya? I ain't been anything but nice before now. I tried my best and this is where it got me. So, I don't see any reason to keep trying." Because he is a whiny baby and his feelings were hurt! << He is no other man. >> There's some annoyance from Dasarth on this and the breeze in the camp picks up some and whips the tent flaps about and sends some of the army scurrying for cover. << I do not like what he did to Elaruth's. /He/ does not like what he did to her either. >> The bronze pauses here and since he's being ignored by his rider shares beyond what he might otherwise have shared. << He is scared. >>
Rhodya leans forward suddenly, scrabbling in the water after her long-lost scrub brush. Dumb luck has brought it floating back to her, and as soon as she gets her hands on it, she /hurls/ it at W'ton. "You jerk! Bein' nice got me to be friends with you, and Hattie thought she could like you, and it brought you nothing, huh? Whiny little /bitch/!" Even more bad words! It's shocking. Gedroth keeps his cool about him this time, one eye on Rhodya in case this anger of hers gets out of control again. Well, maybe it just did, but if it /keeps/ being out of control. << That makes sense. She's very angry at him, it will be hard to live it down. That's probably the case with Elaruth's rider as well. I would be scared, >> he reasons honestly.
W'ton's hand clenches, but his choice is to let the brush hit him or hit Dasarth and, well, Dasarth! So he lets the brush hit him in the chest with a wince. "Oh, yea, being friends with you is a great thing," he says as he sits down in the water and rubs his chest. She managed, purely by luck, to hit the spot that got bruised earlier by the rough landings his bronze gave him. Thankfully it's shallow water or he'd add drowning to it all. "Thought... I see." Jaw locks and he doesn't say anything else. << People are angry at him. It's my fault. He will not say so, but that is what they think. That it is my fault. >> The bluster leaves then and the bronze closes up the camp. No soldiers stir inside and the banners hang limp in dead air. << She said the wrong thing >> the words are whispered, but die without a breeze to carry them. << Thought. This word. >>
Rhodya smirks at him, utterly satisfied that she was able to hit him even while her vision is blurry with tears and soap residue. Satisfaction doesn't carry her for long, and she becomes angry again. "Thought /what/?" she challenges bluntly. "What did you think?" The river changes course, sending rivulets out the same way Dasarth sends his explorers, tracing a moat around the camp. << It's not up to her to nurse him through this, >> Gedroth reckons as more water gushes forth to fill the rivulets. << There is no wrong thing to say. They are both being mean to each other, >> which is disappointing, admits his mind and those sorrowful, croaking toads. << Is it your fault? I didn't know you were involved. I don't see how it would be. >> So he's all the more curious to know why others blame Dasarth.
"None of your business!" Because the last thing W'ton's going to do is admit anything to her! Rar! Teenage alpha male. "You've made it clear you don't much care for what I have to say so why should I waste my breath on you?" He stands up and starts to turn his back on her and then thinks better of it. She might toss something else and he's already got one bruise. Even if it was started by something else. She sure finished it. << There is no expectation of nursing. >> Dasarth is firm on this. << But there are wrong things to say. >> And he's even more firm on this. With the oncoming water the soldiers must stir to prevent it gaining entry. Encircled they may be, but none shall enter. << It is my fault. He has been told that. I do not understand it either, but that is what we are told. That I am not right. That he is not right. >> The soldiers throw down their sandbags with more force than necessary. They're pissed!
"You're right, you /don't/ think anything at all," Rhodya snaps. "You just get all moody and throw everything away." She /does/ turn her back on W'ton, going to retrieve a brand new brush (no way she's going to ask for the one she threw at him) and stalk over to Gedroth. The brown obligingly dips a shoulder so she can climb on his back again, and go to work on the space between his wings. He sends Dasarth a mental shrug, carried out in the fluctuations on the surface of his river. << She's not responsible for what he thinks or feels. What he reads into her sentences is his own 'wrong,' not hers. >> He stretches his wings out to give Rhodya more room, and peeks under them at Dasarth. << Anyway, he's very upset about something. Whatever that is, it's wrong. It doesn't seem to be you. >> Such is Gedroth's evaluation!
"Nice. Real nice. Way to decide things without even knowing what in Faranth's name is going on." W'ton applauds. Golf claps actually. "But, hey, why should you be any different than anyone else making assumptions about what's going on? Seems to fit right in with the people you call friends. I'm sure you'll all be happy in your made up world where you're always right even if you're talking out of your ass." Maybe he wants another brush thrown at him? No, likely not. << That is incorrect. Especially when someone is volatile one must watch one's words carefully so they do not say the wrong thing. >> Dasarth gives this pronouncement before he explains << We read that in a book. >> Which means it must be valid! << He is upset with me. And he is upset that no one listens to him when he says things that are important. >> Another pause and the bronze adds << He is not used to that as I am. >> Poor guy.
Rhodya doesn't look up from scrubbing Gedroth, but she does grind her teeth a little. "Oh, I'm sorry," she says, without a trace of real apology, "are you /not/ being the biggest ass in the universe? Seems to me you are, and as nothing justifies that, I don't have to care what in Faranth's name is going on." She mocks him there, making a dumb face and a dumb voice as she quotes his words back to him. "Temper. Tantrum," she tells him again. << Then I disagree with the book, >> Gedroth answers equitably, shivering his wings. << One is always responsible for what one chooses to think. Only children can be excused, because they're still learning. >> His gaze moves from the bronze to his rider, quite openly (since the babble of his mental river gives up his half-formed strings of thought) pondering the question of whether W'ton is a child.
"Tsk. Language," W'ton mocks for her use of the a-word. "How appalling how quickly you fall off your high horse. Sinking down to the universe's biggest ass level? It's kind of sad really." Shaking his head he shoves at Dasarth. Bath time, at least in here, seems to be over with. "And, Rhodya, that would be the crux of the issue right there. No one gives a shit what the problem is. Just like no one cared if there was one in the first place. Way to be a close-minded bitch." Dasarth moves when he's pushed again and heads up and out of the pool. << One is also responsible for what ones /says/ >> Dasarth points out. << And if one cannot say something nice they should keep their mouth shut. She does not have to like him, but she does not have to goad him either. Unless she enjoys hurting people. >> And if the brown's going to look at W'ton then Dasarth is going to do the same to Rhodya. << He tried to help. >>
Rhodya looks like a drowned cat right now. All pissed off and straggly. "At least I don't like it down here," she mutters, but it carries perfectly well in the cavern. "You've been having your little fit for weeks, and /that's/ your reason? No one listens to you? No one cares why you're upset?" She gives Gedroth's back a hard scrub, provoking a little ooh of delight and surprise from her dragon. "You don't get to act this way and still expect folks to be nice to you. I ain't your doormat. So shove off." Gedroth stops looking at W'ton to eye Rhodya pleadingly, and is rewarded with another hard scrub that just delights him. << That's true, >> he admits to Dasarth, his voice oddly dreamy in the middle of this argument. That backscratching feels seriously good. << I don't like that she's being mean to him. I'll tell her so when she's calmed down. But what she said that was 'wrong' - that wasn't a mean thing. That was a misunderstood thing. >> He gets another scratch and just groans with pleasure. << I think they're both behaving badly. It's equal. >>
"Oh, and no one ever said something that upset you?" W'ton asks although the fight's left him by now. It is as it is and he doesn't seem to care about arguing anymore. "Someone makes a baseless accusation against you to someone whose opinion matters a lot and you just let it go? Well, if that's what makes you happy fine, but it's what I like. So, go on and feel superior over me." Woe is the emo that is W'ton! And Dasarth's joining his rider now in self-doubt. The bronze turns away from Gedroth and his rider. << He tried to be nice. Now he will not try again. She was mean when he tried to be nice. That is /her/ thing. That is what got him all upset all over. He was trying. It is not easy. >> But the words are not said with any force. The army's stopped fighting for the night. Tomorrow is another day and so on and so forth. Cute dark music and eyeliner.
This time, Rhodya's actually silent- no muttering to herself or grinding her teeth, though definitely still enraged. One need only glance at her face for proof of that. "People've said plenty of things that upset me," she says finally, her voice hard. "And I got plenty mad at them. But I didn't get mad at the people whose fault it weren't, or think destroying my life was a good way to get back at the people slandering it." Gedroth is absolutely in heaven, the kind of rubs he's receiving! The brown's trying to keep his groans to himself now, but you can see it in the way he's got his face totally scrunched up. << Yes, she did that. I don't think it was easy. I don't think it will be easy when he tries again. I think he will have to, though, just as she will have to apologize for what she has said. Their better natures call to them. But they're both afraid to listen. >> He knows, because he knows Rhodya, and because Dasarth already told him about W'ton. Little cheaps start to sound off around the camp, crickets responding instinctively and without surprise to the sudden fall of night.
"Because you're so much better, of course. There's Rhodya, better than everyone else." W'ton's eyes roll even though his back is to the brownrider. "She's never made a mistake in her life and always does what she should. But I suppose if she hadn't...Faranth forbid! /Her/ friends would be a little more understanding. Lucky for her to have friends like that and not the other kind that are more than happy to just knock someone around. Yep. A good thing Rhodya doesn't have friends like her." She can be as angry as she wants, but he's just not. The words tumble out with no emotion attached to them at all. << He will not try again. Why should we debase ourselves so? To beg her? No. We will not try again. He offered and she rebuked. >> Dasarth just loves to show off his vocabulary! The bronze stops heading for the exit when W'ton speaks and now he just waits for them to move again. His tail twitches and his wings flutter and there's a stirring of anger that doesn't manifest in any other way.
Rhodya sits up, straight as a board, and stares him down through that little speech. For what it's worth, you know, with his back to her. "Don't cry on me, W'ton. If you're going to own up to a mistake, own up to it, but don't give me this whole thing about how I'm a bad friend because I didn't let you walk all over me, with your bad attitude, and the way you been treatin' people. You dug your own hole, so stop looking to blame other people." Gedroth sends a whistle of wind around the camp, singing through tent poles and ruffling the camp fires. << Don't be silly. They're friends. Things will get better and he'll try again. It's not debasing to admit you miss your friend. >> The wind turns up, pulling loose bits of grass and leaves along behind it in an oddly fragile aerial dance. It dispels itself in moments, and the wind and grass are gone.
"Right. I didn't cry all over your shoulder like a girl so I stepped all over you. Because I didn't want to talk. Look, whatever, I get it. So go on and be pissed and feel superior." One hand waves over his shoulder like he's brushing her away. Rhodya never happened to W'ton. Nope. She can keep doing what she's doing because he's outta here. As is Dasarth because, well, why would he want to stay? << No, he will not. >> On this the bronze is firm. There's no doubt in his mind that his rider won't be trying again. << I will go with him now. >> Because he's not staying with W'ton's not friend and her silly dragon who thinks they should keep trying when she does not. At least that is how /he/ sees it.
On Gedroth's back, Rhodya rolls her eyes and redoubles her efforts with a vengeance. Nevermind that she's been here longer than W'ton, and is still working - she got distracted! There's plenty of work yet to do along her dragon's spine, especially since he's enjoying it so much, and that's what she becomes suddenly and entirely absorbed in when W'ton heads out and drops the conversation. For his part, Gedroth just sends, << I'll see you later, >> after his clutchsib, irksomely confident that they will, in fact, meet again on good terms.
Where: Hot Springs
When: Afternoon on day 3, month 8, turn 19
What: W'ton and Dasarth come upon Rhodya and Gedroth. The dragons get along. Their riders...yea, well, the dragons get along! At least mostly.
Note: Language. Lots of it.
Bubbles! Gedroth is surrounded by them, studying them with mild interest and popping them delicately with the tips of his talons. "Baby, put your arm down!" Rhodya orders from where she sits on his back. She wipes an arm across her forehead, smearing suds there too. When he obeys, she goes back to work on his neck, scrubbing it almost maniacally with a big, stiff-bristled brush. Flakes of loose hide join the suds as they seep down Gedroth's shoulder and into the water, providing him with that stream of bubbles he finds so curious.
It's unusual for Dasarth to be quite so dirty, but today he's definitely gotten himself dirty. All four paws are covered in mud and the remains of his meal. A fine layer of dust covers him everywhere else. Today he clearly celebrated his first flight with his rider by making a mess. Or maybe it's just their continued inability to get along and W'ton's ability to avoid the bronze's physical presence at least as much as he can. Now he needs a bath though so the two come into the hot springs together and head for the nearest pool big enough to allow the bronze to get scrubbed.
Gedroth is in that pool! And he's swiftly become one of the few who's happy to see the stubborn bronze, as he threatened he would when they had their good talk about dreams. The lanky brown warbles at his brother, tucking his nose into the water to push the bubbles Dasarth's way. << Hello, Dasarth. I heard you flew with your rider today. >> His own rider isn't so friendly: she glances up, sees who it is, and goes back to scrubbing Gedroth's neckridges with a vengeance. The first couple of times she ran into W'ton with his changed attitude, she was confused, but she's settled into a steady routine of giving him the cold shoulder by now.
Not that he's /happy/ to have someone to talk to like Gedroth who is annoying, but Dasarth doesn't seem to mind the brown. Yes, he doesn't mind him. So as he settles in the water he ignores the bubbles and says << We flew. Up. And then down again. >> He shares the images of their journey to the Star Stones and back down again after. As for W'ton he strips down to a pair of shorts before wading into the water and starting work on a forepaw covered in things best not dwelt upon. Let her ignore him! He'll just do it in return. << Have you flown yet? >> With Rhodya obviously.
Finishing up Gedroth's neck, Rhodya gives his shoulder a slap. "All right, duck down." The brown obeys, crouching so low that the water laps over his back, washing away the bubbles there, and Rhodya can just swim off to rinse her brush and get a fresh batch of sandsoap for when she returns. << No, we're going to do it in a few days. We had a chance the other day but Saulienth's rider needed so much attention, Rho thought we should just let the teachers concentrate on him. >> Ripples of amusement flow from his mind to Dasarth's as the brown shares his memory of a green-faced F'vel, clinging to the other, smaller brown for dear life.
Aha! He knows that story and Dasarth can share the amusement over F'vel. << I heard of that. We did not have that problem. >> Other than the bronze's continued troubles with take offs and landings at least. << It feels most different. With the weight. You must remember to compensate for it. >> His tone almost sounds like advice and not being bossy. Gasp! W'ton works on the first paw grumbling most of the time about gunk on talons and paws and everything. But eventually that first one is done and he can move on to the second one one although that does take away the body of Dasarth between him and his fellow weyrling.
Gedroth takes that advice and files it away, bobbing his head in thanks. << I have been walking on the ground, with her on my shoulders. It /is/ different, >> he agrees, delighted by this interesting fact. << She is so small, but it changes the way I can move my shoulders, and weights down my neck. >> He flings his neck up, enjoying its current freedom, and sends a spray of water flying off his skin. "Baby!" Rhodya scolds, stopping where she is to rub her eyes. Some of that water was still soapy, and it appears some of it got into her eyes. It hurts! She drops her brush in the water so she can cover her face with both hands, trying to push the sting of it away and probably making things worse, since she won't just leave her eyes alone.
Ah, the ground walking. Yes, Dasarth gives agreement for the difference with and without. << The first time you take off it feels weighted, but once in the air it is better. >> It's always better in the air for him though since he's kind of less than coordinated getting there. << Tell me when you go up. I would like to observe. >> Again his request/demand is made without it being obvious which he might mean. The bronze just ignores the bath he gets without getting in the way of it. Although his head does turn for a moment to observe Rhodya. It must, therefore, be him that alerts W'ton to the other weyrling's predicament. A word gets muttered under his breath before he drops the paw he was working on and moves over to where Rhodya stands. "Stop it," he says without thinking. "You need to rinse it out over...shells. Gimme your hand." So he might lead her to water free of anything.
Oops! Gedroth stretches his nose out to investigate Rhodya's suffering, but when W'ton comes over to help, the brown withdraws to watch from a distance. The other human will know how to help her better than he does. << Okay. I hope it goes well. Rho hasn't ridden any other dragons since I hatched and I want to be good quickly, so she can enjoy flying again. >> Rhodya is trying very hard not to whimper - it hurts so /much/! - but she manages to choke down the sound (with a sort of strangled squeak) when W'ton comes over. She pulls her elbow across her eyes, not fast enough to hide the tears that have sprung up there. "I don't want to. And watch your mouth," she adds peevishly. He said shells!
<< I am sure you will do well. >> Dasarth assures the brown with all the force of his personality. He's sure of everything after all. << Flying is what we have been practicing and getting ready for this whole time, yes. >> In case he forgot or something. Since W'ton's distracted he sinks down farther into the water to get some of the dust of flying and eating and what not off himself. "Shells, Rhodya! I'm so sorry for my bad sharding language. Whatever was I thinking when your delicate ears were here. You want your sharding eyes to get worse and you not get to fly then it's no skin off my nose." Ha! Take that. She's just lucky he didn't use the F word.
Fine, then! Rhodya takes her arm down, revealing a red flush around her irritated eyes, and punches W'ton's arm repeatedly with both fists. They're girly punches, barely punishing at all. "Stop that! You big, stupid jerk!" Punch! Gedroth flares his wings behind her, startled by her flare of temper. << That's very unusual, >> he tells Dasarth. << I've never seen that before. Excuse me. >> The brown turns his back on the whole scene, and suddenly Rhodya's deprived of the draconic sight that was allowing her to find W'ton's arm with her fists. Muscle memory avails her nothing, and her next swing misses by a mile, goes skidding across W'ton's back.
"Oh, language," W'ton taunts even though she's hitting him. He doesn't try to hit back. Duh. She's a girl. Nor does he move out of the way. << She does not hit? He tried to hit >> and there's a picture of T'rev although it's distorted through his rider's dislike of the older man. << But he did not hit. He was very mad. >> Still is actually his tone implies. Stepping back after that last punch W'ton shakes his head not that she sees. "Keep rubbing em. You could be another week on the sharding ground if you do." Yea. Now he's just taunting her and the laugh in his voice is not entirely nice. "But don't listen to me. I'm just a big, sharding, stupid jerk. Shells! Who'd give a shit what I said." Yea, he's mad.
Gedroth keeps his wings up, rustling them now and then as though to shake something off. << She doesn't hit, >> he replies. << It's very weird to listen to her right now, like staring through red cloth. >> His own mind becomes, for a beat, fuzzy and distant, as Rhodya's mind must feel to him now, clouded by rage. << It's very unusual, >> he says again, hiding behind a scientific interest that makes the situation seem less frightening, though the continued rustle of his wings gives him away. "I'm not rubbing them! I stopped, okay! Happy? Someone listened to you! Don't you feel all important." She thrashes around in the water, trying to find her way back to the shore on her own. She stubs her toe on something, hops up and down biting her lip, and takes it out on him. "/Jerk/!"
Aha! In this see Dasarth is experienced. He sends over to the brown some of his army. The sergeants march in and try to show the brown that this is perfectly normal even for one who has never done it before. << They sometimes feel a lot. We must allow it. If you are careful >> and here he has the scouts come in and show their sneaky ways << You might siphon some of it away until they can deal with it better. >> He is so helpful! Well, it's a chance to be a show off so of course he is being helpful. "Oh, I'm a jerk because you wouldn't take my help? Because it was more important for you to be pissed at me. Sure. That makes me a jerk and doesn't just make you stupid." If she wants to play that game then W'ton'll play along. "Now feel free to run along back to your fucking mentor and tell him what a jerk I am so clearly something is wrong and he should run tell it to anyone he can think of."
"Everybody knows what a jerk you are," Rhodya snaps at him, putting that stubbed toe back down. Now she's limping and blind, which would probably be hilarious if they weren't both so pissed off right now. "That's perfectly clear. You've been a big, huge, /stupid/ /jerk/ all along. And you know, I don't think you're in a position to lecture anybody about being pissed off!" Pissed off! She said a semi-naughty word there. Be afraid. A trickle of blood starts to flow into Gedroth's usually placid river, alarming the waterspiders that float on its surface. As they take off, hopping and skipping away from the scary thing, Gedroth's voice reasserts itself in a panic; to the experienced Dasarth, it's clear that he's taken on too much. << What do I do with it! This is very weird, this is very weird! >> And Rhodya, reaching shallower waters, suddenly gives up and falls to a sit, crying openly and loudly in the aftermath of Gedroth's emotional siphon.
"Sure, I'm the jerk. When T'rev just goes and lays shit on Hattie she doesn't need to deal with? I'm the jerk? When he decides there's something wrong with no basis of fact? Sure. I'm the jerk!" W'ton yells that last bit and the cavern echoes it quite nicely. Which is what shuts him up at least. And if Gedroth is alarmed it's no less than the bronzerider who's never been one to deal well with a woman crying. But since she made it clear she didn't want his help he doesn't move. Dasarth's not so stuck at least since he has no use for a human woman he can focus on Gedroth. << Easy >> Dasarth soothes the brown or at least tries to. The army sends in the engineers now to fix the water if he'll let it. With their amazing machines they'll siphon the blood off the water. And even though, obviously, the brown doesn't have the amazing stuff Dasarth does the technique is the same. << You must find the safe place for it to go. You must be calm. Do not share her unease. That is not what we should be doing now. We are too old. >> Surely though they are babies they are not /babies/, yes?
"I don't /care/!" Rhodya sobs, slapping water in the direction his voice came from. "I don't care what T'rev, or what Hattie, or what anybody did to you, they didn't make you a jerk! You're just throwing a - throwing a /tantrum/." And she'd know! "And they didn't make you do that!" Gedroth's river goes by, crashing and gurgling, completely seeped through with blood now, but he lets the engineers do their thing. It gets sent off into a reservoir, a small, ugly red pond that the toads consider dolefully and croak at. Back at the main river, though, the bugs timidly return to the surface, and a gentle wind sways the reeds. << I only meant to take a little bit, >> Gedroth confesses sheepishly. << It came out so very quickly. Thank you. >>
Arms folded over his chest W'ton just watches Rhodya and cannot keep from laughing quietly. "Crying will at least get that out of your eyes," he says and the smirk is evident in his tone. "Would have been easier my way, but whatever works for you." Shaking his head slowly he goes back to Dasarth who still needs a good scrubbing. "Sure. I've always been a jerk, right?" His tone is definitely of the 'whatever variety now. And his bronze still watches the brown. << It will take practice. >> All things take practice. << But when she has settled down you might speak to her about it. They must know what bothers us the same as we must learn what bothers them. You did very well though! >> Rally the troops! Cheer the newbie!
Rhodya gives him a nasty look. She tries to, anyway. Given the aforementioned puffy red eyes and streams of tears, it's hard for her to really pull it off. "I t-told you I didn't need your help," she sniffles, clearly trying to get a hold of herself. Yay for baby dragons and accelerated emotional recovery! Gedroth dares a glance over his shoulder, checking up on his rider visually now that she's calmed down a bit emotionally. << Do you mean I should ask her not to get so angry? >> asks the confused, all-innocent brown. His river has calmed now, but it's not yet its usual lazy self. Fat, stubby little fish keep poking their mouths to the surface, confused about where they should go.
"Yea, well, as you see I'm not offering my help." Indeed W'ton is actually washing Dasarth. Scrub, scrub, scrub. "Sure it went much better you getting all red eyed and toe stubbed and bawling like a baby." Oh, yea, he's definitely being Mr. Sensitive right now. The bronze is getting washed so he doesn't get involved with the human part of it all. << No, no. You should not ask her not to get angry. But you should ask her what gets her so upset. And suggest she learn ways to control herself. We have learned how to control ourselves, yes? >> Maybe not as much as he should, but it sounds good, yes? << She should not be mad at him. He was trying to help. >>
Rhodya smudges the tears off her cheeks, wiping them with the back of her arm. She's still glowering at W'ton. "Yeah, and you being a huge jerk sure got you somewhere. Sure proved a point with that." Gedroth turns back around and settles his wings at last, rustling them as they tuck into place along his back. << Oh, I know why she's upset. He has reminded her of another man she did not like, and she does not like what he's done to Elaruth's rider, and she thinks he's being childish, only maybe he has always been that way, so she feels she has been fooled again. She's also upset that he's being this way to her and she hasn't done anything. >> Gedroth relates this whole tangle of emotions as if it were the most matter-of-fact thing on earth, and made perfect sense to him. He's been in touch with the female mind since his hatching. << It's not because he was trying to help. >>
Scrub, scrub, scrub. Now all the paws are clean so W'ton moves on to the rest of him. All without talking to Rhodya. Not a word. Nope. Not a single one. Until he works back around to the side facing her again. "Excuse me? What the /fuck/ is your problem, Rhodya? I ain't been anything but nice before now. I tried my best and this is where it got me. So, I don't see any reason to keep trying." Because he is a whiny baby and his feelings were hurt! << He is no other man. >> There's some annoyance from Dasarth on this and the breeze in the camp picks up some and whips the tent flaps about and sends some of the army scurrying for cover. << I do not like what he did to Elaruth's. /He/ does not like what he did to her either. >> The bronze pauses here and since he's being ignored by his rider shares beyond what he might otherwise have shared. << He is scared. >>
Rhodya leans forward suddenly, scrabbling in the water after her long-lost scrub brush. Dumb luck has brought it floating back to her, and as soon as she gets her hands on it, she /hurls/ it at W'ton. "You jerk! Bein' nice got me to be friends with you, and Hattie thought she could like you, and it brought you nothing, huh? Whiny little /bitch/!" Even more bad words! It's shocking. Gedroth keeps his cool about him this time, one eye on Rhodya in case this anger of hers gets out of control again. Well, maybe it just did, but if it /keeps/ being out of control. << That makes sense. She's very angry at him, it will be hard to live it down. That's probably the case with Elaruth's rider as well. I would be scared, >> he reasons honestly.
W'ton's hand clenches, but his choice is to let the brush hit him or hit Dasarth and, well, Dasarth! So he lets the brush hit him in the chest with a wince. "Oh, yea, being friends with you is a great thing," he says as he sits down in the water and rubs his chest. She managed, purely by luck, to hit the spot that got bruised earlier by the rough landings his bronze gave him. Thankfully it's shallow water or he'd add drowning to it all. "Thought... I see." Jaw locks and he doesn't say anything else. << People are angry at him. It's my fault. He will not say so, but that is what they think. That it is my fault. >> The bluster leaves then and the bronze closes up the camp. No soldiers stir inside and the banners hang limp in dead air. << She said the wrong thing >> the words are whispered, but die without a breeze to carry them. << Thought. This word. >>
Rhodya smirks at him, utterly satisfied that she was able to hit him even while her vision is blurry with tears and soap residue. Satisfaction doesn't carry her for long, and she becomes angry again. "Thought /what/?" she challenges bluntly. "What did you think?" The river changes course, sending rivulets out the same way Dasarth sends his explorers, tracing a moat around the camp. << It's not up to her to nurse him through this, >> Gedroth reckons as more water gushes forth to fill the rivulets. << There is no wrong thing to say. They are both being mean to each other, >> which is disappointing, admits his mind and those sorrowful, croaking toads. << Is it your fault? I didn't know you were involved. I don't see how it would be. >> So he's all the more curious to know why others blame Dasarth.
"None of your business!" Because the last thing W'ton's going to do is admit anything to her! Rar! Teenage alpha male. "You've made it clear you don't much care for what I have to say so why should I waste my breath on you?" He stands up and starts to turn his back on her and then thinks better of it. She might toss something else and he's already got one bruise. Even if it was started by something else. She sure finished it. << There is no expectation of nursing. >> Dasarth is firm on this. << But there are wrong things to say. >> And he's even more firm on this. With the oncoming water the soldiers must stir to prevent it gaining entry. Encircled they may be, but none shall enter. << It is my fault. He has been told that. I do not understand it either, but that is what we are told. That I am not right. That he is not right. >> The soldiers throw down their sandbags with more force than necessary. They're pissed!
"You're right, you /don't/ think anything at all," Rhodya snaps. "You just get all moody and throw everything away." She /does/ turn her back on W'ton, going to retrieve a brand new brush (no way she's going to ask for the one she threw at him) and stalk over to Gedroth. The brown obligingly dips a shoulder so she can climb on his back again, and go to work on the space between his wings. He sends Dasarth a mental shrug, carried out in the fluctuations on the surface of his river. << She's not responsible for what he thinks or feels. What he reads into her sentences is his own 'wrong,' not hers. >> He stretches his wings out to give Rhodya more room, and peeks under them at Dasarth. << Anyway, he's very upset about something. Whatever that is, it's wrong. It doesn't seem to be you. >> Such is Gedroth's evaluation!
"Nice. Real nice. Way to decide things without even knowing what in Faranth's name is going on." W'ton applauds. Golf claps actually. "But, hey, why should you be any different than anyone else making assumptions about what's going on? Seems to fit right in with the people you call friends. I'm sure you'll all be happy in your made up world where you're always right even if you're talking out of your ass." Maybe he wants another brush thrown at him? No, likely not. << That is incorrect. Especially when someone is volatile one must watch one's words carefully so they do not say the wrong thing. >> Dasarth gives this pronouncement before he explains << We read that in a book. >> Which means it must be valid! << He is upset with me. And he is upset that no one listens to him when he says things that are important. >> Another pause and the bronze adds << He is not used to that as I am. >> Poor guy.
Rhodya doesn't look up from scrubbing Gedroth, but she does grind her teeth a little. "Oh, I'm sorry," she says, without a trace of real apology, "are you /not/ being the biggest ass in the universe? Seems to me you are, and as nothing justifies that, I don't have to care what in Faranth's name is going on." She mocks him there, making a dumb face and a dumb voice as she quotes his words back to him. "Temper. Tantrum," she tells him again. << Then I disagree with the book, >> Gedroth answers equitably, shivering his wings. << One is always responsible for what one chooses to think. Only children can be excused, because they're still learning. >> His gaze moves from the bronze to his rider, quite openly (since the babble of his mental river gives up his half-formed strings of thought) pondering the question of whether W'ton is a child.
"Tsk. Language," W'ton mocks for her use of the a-word. "How appalling how quickly you fall off your high horse. Sinking down to the universe's biggest ass level? It's kind of sad really." Shaking his head he shoves at Dasarth. Bath time, at least in here, seems to be over with. "And, Rhodya, that would be the crux of the issue right there. No one gives a shit what the problem is. Just like no one cared if there was one in the first place. Way to be a close-minded bitch." Dasarth moves when he's pushed again and heads up and out of the pool. << One is also responsible for what ones /says/ >> Dasarth points out. << And if one cannot say something nice they should keep their mouth shut. She does not have to like him, but she does not have to goad him either. Unless she enjoys hurting people. >> And if the brown's going to look at W'ton then Dasarth is going to do the same to Rhodya. << He tried to help. >>
Rhodya looks like a drowned cat right now. All pissed off and straggly. "At least I don't like it down here," she mutters, but it carries perfectly well in the cavern. "You've been having your little fit for weeks, and /that's/ your reason? No one listens to you? No one cares why you're upset?" She gives Gedroth's back a hard scrub, provoking a little ooh of delight and surprise from her dragon. "You don't get to act this way and still expect folks to be nice to you. I ain't your doormat. So shove off." Gedroth stops looking at W'ton to eye Rhodya pleadingly, and is rewarded with another hard scrub that just delights him. << That's true, >> he admits to Dasarth, his voice oddly dreamy in the middle of this argument. That backscratching feels seriously good. << I don't like that she's being mean to him. I'll tell her so when she's calmed down. But what she said that was 'wrong' - that wasn't a mean thing. That was a misunderstood thing. >> He gets another scratch and just groans with pleasure. << I think they're both behaving badly. It's equal. >>
"Oh, and no one ever said something that upset you?" W'ton asks although the fight's left him by now. It is as it is and he doesn't seem to care about arguing anymore. "Someone makes a baseless accusation against you to someone whose opinion matters a lot and you just let it go? Well, if that's what makes you happy fine, but it's what I like. So, go on and feel superior over me." Woe is the emo that is W'ton! And Dasarth's joining his rider now in self-doubt. The bronze turns away from Gedroth and his rider. << He tried to be nice. Now he will not try again. She was mean when he tried to be nice. That is /her/ thing. That is what got him all upset all over. He was trying. It is not easy. >> But the words are not said with any force. The army's stopped fighting for the night. Tomorrow is another day and so on and so forth. Cute dark music and eyeliner.
This time, Rhodya's actually silent- no muttering to herself or grinding her teeth, though definitely still enraged. One need only glance at her face for proof of that. "People've said plenty of things that upset me," she says finally, her voice hard. "And I got plenty mad at them. But I didn't get mad at the people whose fault it weren't, or think destroying my life was a good way to get back at the people slandering it." Gedroth is absolutely in heaven, the kind of rubs he's receiving! The brown's trying to keep his groans to himself now, but you can see it in the way he's got his face totally scrunched up. << Yes, she did that. I don't think it was easy. I don't think it will be easy when he tries again. I think he will have to, though, just as she will have to apologize for what she has said. Their better natures call to them. But they're both afraid to listen. >> He knows, because he knows Rhodya, and because Dasarth already told him about W'ton. Little cheaps start to sound off around the camp, crickets responding instinctively and without surprise to the sudden fall of night.
"Because you're so much better, of course. There's Rhodya, better than everyone else." W'ton's eyes roll even though his back is to the brownrider. "She's never made a mistake in her life and always does what she should. But I suppose if she hadn't...Faranth forbid! /Her/ friends would be a little more understanding. Lucky for her to have friends like that and not the other kind that are more than happy to just knock someone around. Yep. A good thing Rhodya doesn't have friends like her." She can be as angry as she wants, but he's just not. The words tumble out with no emotion attached to them at all. << He will not try again. Why should we debase ourselves so? To beg her? No. We will not try again. He offered and she rebuked. >> Dasarth just loves to show off his vocabulary! The bronze stops heading for the exit when W'ton speaks and now he just waits for them to move again. His tail twitches and his wings flutter and there's a stirring of anger that doesn't manifest in any other way.
Rhodya sits up, straight as a board, and stares him down through that little speech. For what it's worth, you know, with his back to her. "Don't cry on me, W'ton. If you're going to own up to a mistake, own up to it, but don't give me this whole thing about how I'm a bad friend because I didn't let you walk all over me, with your bad attitude, and the way you been treatin' people. You dug your own hole, so stop looking to blame other people." Gedroth sends a whistle of wind around the camp, singing through tent poles and ruffling the camp fires. << Don't be silly. They're friends. Things will get better and he'll try again. It's not debasing to admit you miss your friend. >> The wind turns up, pulling loose bits of grass and leaves along behind it in an oddly fragile aerial dance. It dispels itself in moments, and the wind and grass are gone.
"Right. I didn't cry all over your shoulder like a girl so I stepped all over you. Because I didn't want to talk. Look, whatever, I get it. So go on and be pissed and feel superior." One hand waves over his shoulder like he's brushing her away. Rhodya never happened to W'ton. Nope. She can keep doing what she's doing because he's outta here. As is Dasarth because, well, why would he want to stay? << No, he will not. >> On this the bronze is firm. There's no doubt in his mind that his rider won't be trying again. << I will go with him now. >> Because he's not staying with W'ton's not friend and her silly dragon who thinks they should keep trying when she does not. At least that is how /he/ sees it.
On Gedroth's back, Rhodya rolls her eyes and redoubles her efforts with a vengeance. Nevermind that she's been here longer than W'ton, and is still working - she got distracted! There's plenty of work yet to do along her dragon's spine, especially since he's enjoying it so much, and that's what she becomes suddenly and entirely absorbed in when W'ton heads out and drops the conversation. For his part, Gedroth just sends, << I'll see you later, >> after his clutchsib, irksomely confident that they will, in fact, meet again on good terms.