Respecting yourself at all times
Who: Rhodya, R'uen, and Zaiventh
When: Evening of day 12, month 2, turn 19 of Interval 10.
Where: Hot Springs, Fort Weyr
What: Rhodya's taking her bath at the same time R'uen's trying to give Zaiventh his, and they wind up talking about what it means to be "good."
As fussy as she is about impropriety, Rhodya's got no qualms about hanging around the baths toute nue. There's really not much choice in a Weyr. Standing at the edge of the bath she's selected, she dips one foot in the water and gently shovels it away, as though carving out a spot for herself. After she's done this a couple of times, she slips straight into the hot water and settles comfortably against the wall, sighing.
Toute nue! Assuming that's a fancy way to say naked, R'uen doesn't take much note, but then gawking at nude girls while they're trying to take a bath is the sort of no-no a good boy like him was raised to respect. Besides, at the moment, he's standing in his shorts in the shallows of the massive dragon pool, scrubbing away at Zaiventh's back leg. Despite this activity occuring for his benefit, and the fact that there's a gold on the sands tending over his brood, Zaiventh is generally making a nuisance of himself as he strikes one pose after another for the little green floating at the other end of the pool. R'uen tosses her rider an apologetic, whatcha-gonna-do-type smile and carries on with scrubbing. He also picks up the half-conscious singing of an ald teaching song about how rain falls on one side of the mountain and the other side is dry.
Rhodya is indeed naked, something it's more delicate to relate in French, and now that she's settled in her own bath she takes a moment to look around and see who else is here. Like Rev, she was brought up right, so her eyes remain above the belt at all times, but there are plenty of perfectly recognizable faces who get a smile and a wave across the room. The Weyrleader is one of those faces, and since the shallows he's standing in aren't far from the bath she's in, he even gets a verbal greeting. "Heya, Rev." Her gaze trails on to the bronze nearby, whose macho posing brings a grin to her face.
R'uen is a guy. Naked is naked. Sans clothes, for those who speak fancy. Anyway, he's a bit more oblivious and doesn't let his eyse go meandering around the pool. In fact he was about to look right past Rhodya when she does that whole smiling and saying hey thing. And the familiarity of her greeting, which isn't quite expected, puts a wry smile on his face. "Heya, Rho," he returns in the same fashion. He lifts a wet and soapy arm to wipe at his forhead, which does nothing at all but make his forhead wet and soapy. Zaiventh swings his head around to give the candidates a once over.
"Ain't seen much of you," says Rhodya, who is oblivious to the presumption of her greeting. She scoots around to a side of the tub that's closer to the bronzerider, which serves the dual purpose of making it easier to talk and easier to conceal herself. Baths or no baths, it wouldn't do to sit there flashing him. "You had time to give your lady those shoes I made yet?" Since they don't see much of each other regularly, she tipped a weyrbrat to deliver the boots a couple months back. "I wondered how they went over."
"Yeah?" R'uen answers after a brief pause and with a bit of a question lifting the end of the word. "Didn't you get my thank you note?" But then he disappears behind a great bronze bum as Zaiventh shifts around to lean his head down toward the edge of the pool, all the better for eyeballing Rhodya. "He says you look like you're just a head," comes the voice from behind the ass.
Rhodya, who is just a head, shakes herself and says, "Huh. Must've missed me. Well, you know, the whole candidate thing and all, maybe it got sent to the wrong bed." Zaiventh looms ever closer. Rhodya watches him, but she's not particularly uncomfortable having a bronze get all close and personal. Mecaith's been spoiling her. Once she understands what's attracted his attention, she chuckles and lifts an arm, wagging it for him. "More than just a pretty face, fella," she teases him.
Not hearing her narrator's comments about Mecaith, R'uen tells Rhoyda, "Just tell him to go away if he bothers you." He even peeks his head out from behind the bronze to say this, but then disappears again, presumably washing the tail now, as when it flicks around the Weyrleader gives a yell and there's some kicking and splashing.
"That's all right," Rhodya calls back. She feels obliged to raise her voice, since there is now a big bronze dragon between her and the person she's speaking to. Her gaze reverts to Zaiventh for a moment and she raises her brows. "Just so long as you understand there's a line between curious and nosy, and we ain't crossin' it." She draws that invisible line in the air with her finger, then smiles lopsidedly at the big beast. Back to R'uen: "I'm used to havin' dragons around. I get Mecaith around a lot, f'r example."
Zaiventh lets out a long, deep rumble, his eyes whirling faster and more brightly, pleased that the girl is talking to him, doing whatever she's doing with her air-drawing and giving him that smile. It's his ways of smiling back, really. He approves well enough that R'uen can keep talking to her without his supervision. The bronzes starts toward the deeper water, but R'uen is still trying to scrub that last bit of tail and when the body it belongs to moves away, he throws the scrub brush at the bronze backside. It bounces off and washes up on the waves of Zaiventh's departure. After all of that, R'uen turns a cocked brow toward Rhodya. "Mecaith?"
Watching R'uen attempt to handle his bronze is like getting your own little comedy show, and Rhodya sticks around to watch the whole thing. The scrub brush thonks off Zaiventh's butt with such perfect timing that she can't help but laugh, but she attempts to leave Rev with a little dignity: returning to her own bath needs, she ducks her head and silences herself underwater. When she emerges, she reaches calmly for the soapsand next to the tub. "Sure, T'rev's bronze. He's the one that Searched me and all. He's a cutie," she chuckles, soaping up an arm.
R'uen doesn't seem to be hurting after the interaction with the bronze; it seems like this might be any old day for him. Maybe he throws a scrub brush at Zaiventh ass like some sort of bathtime ritual. Who knows, really. Now he's picking up the brush, along with their other bath supplies. "Yeah, I know who he is. We impressed together. Telgar." Everything gets packed up in a bucket before he turns back to look at Rhodya with a narrowed eye, "Wait, Mecaith is a cutie or T'rev is a cutie?"
The look Rhodya gives him is slightly surprised, but it's banished quickly with another of her ubiquitous smiles. "Well, I meant Mecaith. No offense to T'rev or nothin', he's a good-looking guy." A pause, then the smile widens. "And no offense to you, neither; I remember you two knew each other. Just thought maybe I'd said the name funny so you didn't recognize it, my accent or something." She gestures at her throat.
"Well, you know, it's not often someone strikes up a friendship with a random dragon and not that random dragon's rider," R'uen points, pulling the bucket away from the pool shore and leaving it there to be dealt with later. Now he's staring at the water and rocking his weight just a bit, the classic sign of someone considering whether or not to actually get in the pool. "Better that way - meaning Mecaith."
"I'm friends with both of them?" Rhodya offers helpfully. She looks confused. Still, she inches over as a gesture of invitation, should Rev's hesitation about getting into the pool be eased by a distance between them. The two seconds it takes her to do that also give her two seconds to think, and - confidence fully recovered - she flops an arm along the pool and looks across it at Rev, grinning. "What, you don't think I should find T'rev cute? Don't tell me you two've got a rivalry."
"Nah, nothing like that," R'uen says with a laugh. "He just... well, you likely know how he is. He makes trouble for girls. They like him too much. Or he likes them too much." His smile is pulled to the side for that, a look delivered to the candidate. "And whatever you do with that information is your business." He holds his hands up, innocent, uninvolved, not touching it. However, he will wander over to Rhodya's pool and slip into the space she's made, shorts and all.
"Oh, he's a lover, all right." Rhodya chuckles, at ease now that they're on the same wavelength. "Fallin' into bed ain't my way of doin' things, but I'm not gonna argue with him doin' it. Somethin' I learned from my Papa: if your way of doin' things is really so much better, people will want to follow you. So I'm just focused on keepin' /me/ good," she concludes, pointing a thumb at herself. "And don't you worry, I have been." She winks, then points behind him. "I moved away from my soapsand, there. Mind slidin' it over?"
R'uen can't help but smirk a bit. Lover. Of course, it's always sort of ridiculous to think of one's clutchbrothers in that sort of light, when you remember freaking out over how much your dragons just crapped, it takes a bit of the shine off. "Well, just as long as you know what you're doing. I think I'm of the same mind as your Papa. I kind of have..." His hands go up on either side of his face. "Blinders." The gesture is brief anyway, but he's immediately sliding her soapsand over just as she asks. "What's your father do?"
"Thanks." Rhodya catches the soapsand and dips out a hefty amount, which she uses to scrub her still-wet hair. She's very thorough about it, digging her fingers deep into the roots and moving through them inch by inch. "My Papa's a journeyman tanner. And you can believe he lives those words, 'cause he ain't hardly lectured me his entire life, but I do try to be good like him." She gives R'uen a wry twist of a smile. "'Course he's better at it. Bein' older, he says, he's got practice." She shakes her head, laughing at that, and the movement sets loose fluffy balls of soap that plop into the water.
"Is 'being good' limited to not messing around with T'rev or does it have farther reaching implications?" That smirk is still there, though, largely because R'uen feels the need to add: "Not that I'd expect your father has much trouble 'being good' if that's the definition." Meanwhile, he makes no move to wash himself, content instead to slouch down in the water until it's lapping at his scruffy chin and his arms are half-floating in front of him.
Well, it is comfortable water. All warm and toasty. Rhodya slaps a bit of his way, punishing him for that joke about her father, but laughing as she does. Not a serious punishment at all. "Nah, it's an all-day, all-situations kind of thing. I've got no doubt T'rev can be naughty, but he ain't naughty enough to form a philosophy round him." She lowers her head back into the water, letting it wash away the suds gradually. But there's a growing pool of soap all around her, just the same. "I'd have a hard time tellin' ya what bein' good exactly consists of, as an all-round definition. Though I've tried to. Best I ever came up with is you're respecting yourself at all times."
R'uen takes that splash in the cheek, squinting to keep the water from getting in his eyes, though now it clings to his lashes. He smiles is a rather self-satified way and hides his lips at the water's surface, lifting his chin momentarily to interject, "I'd rather not think of T'rev being 'naughty'," in a dry fashion. Only when he sinks back down there's all sorts of hair-frothed soap swirling around his mouth; he grimaces and tries to blow it away. "Respecting yourself," he repeats. "And others?"
Rhodya shoots him an apologetic look for the soap swirling around his mouth. Nothing to be done for it, though! She helps herself to more soapsand and starts scrubbing her ribs, which means lifting her upper body out of the water, for those keeping track at home. Decently, she turns her back to him during this part of the process. "Man, you just poked a hole in my best-yet definition," she says, speaking over her shoulder. "I try to respect others, too, but that's where it gets tricky when I stop to think about it. 'Cause everybody views respect a bit different. What if I'm leavin' somebody alone who's worried about somethin', thinking I'm giving respect to their private thoughts, but they're thinking I don't respect 'em enough to find out what's wrong and try helping?" She splashes water up her back and stretches round to scrub up there. "You do your best, I guess. So it's really: respect yourself at all times, and when it comes to others, muddle through."
"Well, respect doesn't have to mean 'accomodate their every whim'." R'uen, for those keeping track at home, only takes a quick glance at her bare back and otherwise keeps his eyes on the swirling suds just below his nose. "I figure respecting others is something like keeping your nose out of places it doesn't belong, not judging, that sort of thing. When he lifts his chin from the water, the scruff is all soapy, which he isn't particularly aware of.
It's good that he's not watching. Good because, sooner or later, everyone has to (or /ought/ to) scrub their naughty parts, and Rhodya's just reached that threshhold now. At least, she skips a few steps into it when she notices Rev's distracted by suds, for the moment. "You're probably right," she says, eyes rolled up to the ceiling. All innocent. "I always try too hard to help folks out, but I s'pose sometimes you just gotta leave 'em alone. Let them figure their problems out." She dunks back into the water, turning back to face Rev like nothing in the world had just happened. Which as far as decency is concerned, it has not.
If R'uen could hear the narrator, he would be plugging his ears and singing at the mention of naughty parts and looking somewhat nervous. As it is, the first teeny tiny hint of awareness has him looking very much in the opposite direction. Because no one said anything about naughty parts. She's just washing. And washing is totally kosher. "Well, you know, unless they bring them to you. Then ignoring them might be sort of rude," he laughs weakly. It was a weak joke. "I don't mind hearing about peoples' problems. I guess I don't really... take them on as my own?"
If the narrator could predict Rev's response, it would call him a baby. But Rhodya would be totally mortified, so it's a good thing there's a barrier up. "Well, I mean... Shoot, you keep catchin' me in a poor turn of phrase over here. I meant as far as following everybody's little whims, like you said, sometimes you've just gotta back off and let them figure out what to do with themselves. They come to you for help, though, absolutely you try and help them. Absolutely." That second absolutely means she's overcompensating for being caught out (again!) in her word choice, but she's got to set the record straight. This is pure agreement, over here. "Bet that's a pretty good attitude for a Weyrleader to have, huh?" she continues, putting distance between herself and her slip-up. "There's people comin' to you with problems all the time."
The overcompensating makes him laugh, a quick, boyish sort of sound. "Well, if they're coming to me with, you know, Weyrleadery problems then I do take that on and all. But regular... people drama. I don't know, I have no problem hearing about it, sympathizing but... I don't know. Maybe I'm just self-absorbed." It's the damp of his chin and not the remnants of soap that make R'uen rub at it now. Or maybe it's the thoughtfulness, who can tell?
Whatever attracts R'uen to his chin, it's a different observation that has Rhodya squinting at him. She tilts her head, then breaks out the grin. "You've got a little soap," she tells him, miming a stroke of her own chin. "Made you look gray for a second; thought I was losin' it." She knocks her head, then reaches that same hand out for the soapsand. There are legs, after all, and one foot emerges from the water now like a little periscope. Soap coming? Yes, soap coming. It waits. "I get real into people drama. /Real/ into it. Official stuff, like if I was a Weyrleader, just bores me to tears."
Well with -that- information, R'uen wipes across his jaw with more purpose, and even looks a little disturbed by the prospect of being gray. "Shit, I'm too young for that. If I go gray now, I'm takin' Zaiventh and we'll go live on some southern beach for the rest of our lives eating coconuts and roasted pigs." He gives a damn-straight sort of nod and sinks into the water again, wet hands running rather protectively over his hair. "The jobs stuff isn't so bad. I mean, most of the time what people seem to want most is some sort of resolution."
"Language," Rhodya reminds him softly, her voice going up an octave to that singsong teachers use because they think it makes their rebukes sound more friendly. She's over the offense so fast that she's already chuckling at his defensive reaction to the thought of gray hair. "Well, that's just people drama in disguise. If they're unhappy with the folks in their wing, or the assignments they're getting, or what-have-you, that'd be interesting. It's all that stuff about, oh, resolvin' them cloth issues that'd get on my nerves. It's necessary for the Weyr and all, but hard to get real /invested/ in, if ya follow me."
R'uen pauses to give her a look for the language comment. "You fancy yourself a proper thing, don't you." And if the words alone aren't enough to make him seem skeptical, the entertained expression should do it. However, bringing up the whole cloth thing rather ruins the good time. His mouth twists to the side. "Yeah..." He's reall talkative on that topic.
Sensing his reluctance, Rhodya's quick to reassure him with a smile. "Oh, don't you worry. That wasn't a lead-in or nothin'. I really mean it'd bore me, so I ain't gonna ask you to talk about whatever's going on with that mess. Matter of fact, might make you promise you won't," she tells him, winking. The rest of her long leg emerges from the water, following its periscopic foot, and she tucks her knee up to her chin so she can reach it all with soapsand comfortably. "As to what you said, anyway: I do," she continues calmly. Never mind that spindly leg in her face, she's got plenty of dignity when it comes to her own propriety. "And that's also how I was raised. It ain't proper for a lady to act like she's a man, to go smokin' and cussin' with them just to fit in. So I don't hang around when the swear words start to come out." She smiles at him, sweet as you please. "Hope you don't mind."
"Well, it doesn't seem like anyone's died of cold this winter, so we must be doing all right. Right?" With that, R'uen will happily leave it all to rest. Meanwhile he's watching her periscope action with an unseeing dazed expression and letting a breath bubble from his mouth. "Doesn't that just mean that -you- don't smoke and cuss? Not that I'm not capable of cleaning up my mouth and all but... I guess I don't see the point in getting worked up about what other people are saying."
Rhodya frowns. "I'm not worked up," she points out, trying to be firm. The result is that she's just a little petulant, and maybe she realizes this, because she clears her throat. "Anyway, the way we talk to people's a reflection of the way we think of them. You wouldn't cuss in front of your mother." She assumes. "But if you cuss in front of me, and I don't say anything, maybe next it'll be dirty jokes. 'Cause I don't seem to mind, do I? Then next maybe you're makin' dirty jokes about me, 'cause I'm supposed to be a good sport. Well, I don't like any of that, so I draw the line early. Clean and clear." She pauses, then adds, "Mind, I ain't attacking you. I'm just trying to explain, and sayin' 'you do this, you do that' is the easiest way."
R'uen listens to all this with perfectly appropriate seriousness. After that moment of petulance that makes him smile, of course. After that's done he gets serious. And he listens. "Well, if we're going to talk about mothers... what if I swear and you give me that disapproving look and I ignore it but I know enough not to make dirty jokes about you?"
Rhodya chuckles, slipping her leg back into the water. The next one springs up to take its place. "Well, if we're streamlining, sure. I'm happy to give you the /look/ 'stead of interrupting your conversation. But I hope you ain't planning to just go on swearing and swearing, so I'm givin' you the look every five minutes till I give up and leave."
"Have I done that so far?" R'uen asks, looking up at her from his slouched and sunk position such that he rather unwittingly gives her the puppy dog eyes.
The puppy eyes soften her. Without even thinking about it, Rhodya gives him an 'awww, cute' sort of smile, all melted at the corners. "'Course you haven't," she assures him, and maybe if he was closer she'd pat him on the head and scratch him behind the ears, too. "I'm just funnin' ya. Nah, you'd be good about it, I'm sure. Not the mean type."
Another rub of his hand over his hair then slides down over his face. "What were we talking about? Before swearing and mothers and all that came up?" R'uen chuckles a bit, maybe a little awkwardly. He even glances over at the pool where his dragon is still rolling about in the depths, making a pest of himself to that poor soaking green.
"I don't rightly remember," Rhodya admits, after pausing to think about it. She looks at Rev and shrugs helplessly. "I remember I was callin' you old when you said it, but other'n that all I can think of is talking about bein' good to other people and that kind of thing. Don't know if we got onto another topic." Her leg thoroughly sudsed up, she lowers it back into the water. Squeaky clean now, her skin still flushed red in places, she looks quite content.
"Probably means it's a good time for me to make my departure then," R'uen says, pushing himself up from the water. "Before I swear again and get in trouble." He doesn't need to call out to the bronze, but a look in Zaiventh's direction has the dragon reluctantly bidding the green farewell and returning to the shore. "Hey, you know..." R'uen adds in as he steps out of the pool. "If I don't see you again, good luck with the eggs, huh? It's getting close."
Now that the work of getting clean is over, Rhodya's settling back to enjoy a few more minutes of warmth before she climbs out. So Rev's on his own getting out of the bath, but she smiles at him. "Thanks. Gets my heart all up in here," she waves a hand at the level of her throat, "to think about it, but yeah. We'll see what happens pretty soon. Nice talkin' to ya, Rev."
"This is the worst bit. Waiting, wondering, fretting," R'uen says as he takes some time to drip dry. His dragon should be doing the same, and Rev checks that with a glance over his shoulder. "Like I said, resolution." With a frown he looks around for a towel, finds one, and begins rubbing his head dry. "So, either way, it'll all be over soon. Which should be good, unless you're enjoying that heart in the throat sensation."
"Hah," Rhodya says drily, at the thought of enjoying this sense of nervousness. She shakes her head. "Not a bit, I can tell ya. Can't stand not knowing, and the wondering's the part that makes it worst, so I'm glad they're near to hatching. I could never stand not knowing what my birthday presents were, and findin' out what's in them eggs ain't any easier." She chuckles.
R'uen wraps the towel around his waist over his wet shorts. "It's getting close. Sounds like it could be any time now. And either way, I hope it turns out well for you." Then, taking up his regular clothes, "I'll see ya around, Rho," and he turns toward the changing rooms, because there have to be changing rooms, because naked and bending over to put your pants on isn't decent from any angle.
When: Evening of day 12, month 2, turn 19 of Interval 10.
Where: Hot Springs, Fort Weyr
What: Rhodya's taking her bath at the same time R'uen's trying to give Zaiventh his, and they wind up talking about what it means to be "good."
As fussy as she is about impropriety, Rhodya's got no qualms about hanging around the baths toute nue. There's really not much choice in a Weyr. Standing at the edge of the bath she's selected, she dips one foot in the water and gently shovels it away, as though carving out a spot for herself. After she's done this a couple of times, she slips straight into the hot water and settles comfortably against the wall, sighing.
Toute nue! Assuming that's a fancy way to say naked, R'uen doesn't take much note, but then gawking at nude girls while they're trying to take a bath is the sort of no-no a good boy like him was raised to respect. Besides, at the moment, he's standing in his shorts in the shallows of the massive dragon pool, scrubbing away at Zaiventh's back leg. Despite this activity occuring for his benefit, and the fact that there's a gold on the sands tending over his brood, Zaiventh is generally making a nuisance of himself as he strikes one pose after another for the little green floating at the other end of the pool. R'uen tosses her rider an apologetic, whatcha-gonna-do-type smile and carries on with scrubbing. He also picks up the half-conscious singing of an ald teaching song about how rain falls on one side of the mountain and the other side is dry.
Rhodya is indeed naked, something it's more delicate to relate in French, and now that she's settled in her own bath she takes a moment to look around and see who else is here. Like Rev, she was brought up right, so her eyes remain above the belt at all times, but there are plenty of perfectly recognizable faces who get a smile and a wave across the room. The Weyrleader is one of those faces, and since the shallows he's standing in aren't far from the bath she's in, he even gets a verbal greeting. "Heya, Rev." Her gaze trails on to the bronze nearby, whose macho posing brings a grin to her face.
R'uen is a guy. Naked is naked. Sans clothes, for those who speak fancy. Anyway, he's a bit more oblivious and doesn't let his eyse go meandering around the pool. In fact he was about to look right past Rhodya when she does that whole smiling and saying hey thing. And the familiarity of her greeting, which isn't quite expected, puts a wry smile on his face. "Heya, Rho," he returns in the same fashion. He lifts a wet and soapy arm to wipe at his forhead, which does nothing at all but make his forhead wet and soapy. Zaiventh swings his head around to give the candidates a once over.
"Ain't seen much of you," says Rhodya, who is oblivious to the presumption of her greeting. She scoots around to a side of the tub that's closer to the bronzerider, which serves the dual purpose of making it easier to talk and easier to conceal herself. Baths or no baths, it wouldn't do to sit there flashing him. "You had time to give your lady those shoes I made yet?" Since they don't see much of each other regularly, she tipped a weyrbrat to deliver the boots a couple months back. "I wondered how they went over."
"Yeah?" R'uen answers after a brief pause and with a bit of a question lifting the end of the word. "Didn't you get my thank you note?" But then he disappears behind a great bronze bum as Zaiventh shifts around to lean his head down toward the edge of the pool, all the better for eyeballing Rhodya. "He says you look like you're just a head," comes the voice from behind the ass.
Rhodya, who is just a head, shakes herself and says, "Huh. Must've missed me. Well, you know, the whole candidate thing and all, maybe it got sent to the wrong bed." Zaiventh looms ever closer. Rhodya watches him, but she's not particularly uncomfortable having a bronze get all close and personal. Mecaith's been spoiling her. Once she understands what's attracted his attention, she chuckles and lifts an arm, wagging it for him. "More than just a pretty face, fella," she teases him.
Not hearing her narrator's comments about Mecaith, R'uen tells Rhoyda, "Just tell him to go away if he bothers you." He even peeks his head out from behind the bronze to say this, but then disappears again, presumably washing the tail now, as when it flicks around the Weyrleader gives a yell and there's some kicking and splashing.
"That's all right," Rhodya calls back. She feels obliged to raise her voice, since there is now a big bronze dragon between her and the person she's speaking to. Her gaze reverts to Zaiventh for a moment and she raises her brows. "Just so long as you understand there's a line between curious and nosy, and we ain't crossin' it." She draws that invisible line in the air with her finger, then smiles lopsidedly at the big beast. Back to R'uen: "I'm used to havin' dragons around. I get Mecaith around a lot, f'r example."
Zaiventh lets out a long, deep rumble, his eyes whirling faster and more brightly, pleased that the girl is talking to him, doing whatever she's doing with her air-drawing and giving him that smile. It's his ways of smiling back, really. He approves well enough that R'uen can keep talking to her without his supervision. The bronzes starts toward the deeper water, but R'uen is still trying to scrub that last bit of tail and when the body it belongs to moves away, he throws the scrub brush at the bronze backside. It bounces off and washes up on the waves of Zaiventh's departure. After all of that, R'uen turns a cocked brow toward Rhodya. "Mecaith?"
Watching R'uen attempt to handle his bronze is like getting your own little comedy show, and Rhodya sticks around to watch the whole thing. The scrub brush thonks off Zaiventh's butt with such perfect timing that she can't help but laugh, but she attempts to leave Rev with a little dignity: returning to her own bath needs, she ducks her head and silences herself underwater. When she emerges, she reaches calmly for the soapsand next to the tub. "Sure, T'rev's bronze. He's the one that Searched me and all. He's a cutie," she chuckles, soaping up an arm.
R'uen doesn't seem to be hurting after the interaction with the bronze; it seems like this might be any old day for him. Maybe he throws a scrub brush at Zaiventh ass like some sort of bathtime ritual. Who knows, really. Now he's picking up the brush, along with their other bath supplies. "Yeah, I know who he is. We impressed together. Telgar." Everything gets packed up in a bucket before he turns back to look at Rhodya with a narrowed eye, "Wait, Mecaith is a cutie or T'rev is a cutie?"
The look Rhodya gives him is slightly surprised, but it's banished quickly with another of her ubiquitous smiles. "Well, I meant Mecaith. No offense to T'rev or nothin', he's a good-looking guy." A pause, then the smile widens. "And no offense to you, neither; I remember you two knew each other. Just thought maybe I'd said the name funny so you didn't recognize it, my accent or something." She gestures at her throat.
"Well, you know, it's not often someone strikes up a friendship with a random dragon and not that random dragon's rider," R'uen points, pulling the bucket away from the pool shore and leaving it there to be dealt with later. Now he's staring at the water and rocking his weight just a bit, the classic sign of someone considering whether or not to actually get in the pool. "Better that way - meaning Mecaith."
"I'm friends with both of them?" Rhodya offers helpfully. She looks confused. Still, she inches over as a gesture of invitation, should Rev's hesitation about getting into the pool be eased by a distance between them. The two seconds it takes her to do that also give her two seconds to think, and - confidence fully recovered - she flops an arm along the pool and looks across it at Rev, grinning. "What, you don't think I should find T'rev cute? Don't tell me you two've got a rivalry."
"Nah, nothing like that," R'uen says with a laugh. "He just... well, you likely know how he is. He makes trouble for girls. They like him too much. Or he likes them too much." His smile is pulled to the side for that, a look delivered to the candidate. "And whatever you do with that information is your business." He holds his hands up, innocent, uninvolved, not touching it. However, he will wander over to Rhodya's pool and slip into the space she's made, shorts and all.
"Oh, he's a lover, all right." Rhodya chuckles, at ease now that they're on the same wavelength. "Fallin' into bed ain't my way of doin' things, but I'm not gonna argue with him doin' it. Somethin' I learned from my Papa: if your way of doin' things is really so much better, people will want to follow you. So I'm just focused on keepin' /me/ good," she concludes, pointing a thumb at herself. "And don't you worry, I have been." She winks, then points behind him. "I moved away from my soapsand, there. Mind slidin' it over?"
R'uen can't help but smirk a bit. Lover. Of course, it's always sort of ridiculous to think of one's clutchbrothers in that sort of light, when you remember freaking out over how much your dragons just crapped, it takes a bit of the shine off. "Well, just as long as you know what you're doing. I think I'm of the same mind as your Papa. I kind of have..." His hands go up on either side of his face. "Blinders." The gesture is brief anyway, but he's immediately sliding her soapsand over just as she asks. "What's your father do?"
"Thanks." Rhodya catches the soapsand and dips out a hefty amount, which she uses to scrub her still-wet hair. She's very thorough about it, digging her fingers deep into the roots and moving through them inch by inch. "My Papa's a journeyman tanner. And you can believe he lives those words, 'cause he ain't hardly lectured me his entire life, but I do try to be good like him." She gives R'uen a wry twist of a smile. "'Course he's better at it. Bein' older, he says, he's got practice." She shakes her head, laughing at that, and the movement sets loose fluffy balls of soap that plop into the water.
"Is 'being good' limited to not messing around with T'rev or does it have farther reaching implications?" That smirk is still there, though, largely because R'uen feels the need to add: "Not that I'd expect your father has much trouble 'being good' if that's the definition." Meanwhile, he makes no move to wash himself, content instead to slouch down in the water until it's lapping at his scruffy chin and his arms are half-floating in front of him.
Well, it is comfortable water. All warm and toasty. Rhodya slaps a bit of his way, punishing him for that joke about her father, but laughing as she does. Not a serious punishment at all. "Nah, it's an all-day, all-situations kind of thing. I've got no doubt T'rev can be naughty, but he ain't naughty enough to form a philosophy round him." She lowers her head back into the water, letting it wash away the suds gradually. But there's a growing pool of soap all around her, just the same. "I'd have a hard time tellin' ya what bein' good exactly consists of, as an all-round definition. Though I've tried to. Best I ever came up with is you're respecting yourself at all times."
R'uen takes that splash in the cheek, squinting to keep the water from getting in his eyes, though now it clings to his lashes. He smiles is a rather self-satified way and hides his lips at the water's surface, lifting his chin momentarily to interject, "I'd rather not think of T'rev being 'naughty'," in a dry fashion. Only when he sinks back down there's all sorts of hair-frothed soap swirling around his mouth; he grimaces and tries to blow it away. "Respecting yourself," he repeats. "And others?"
Rhodya shoots him an apologetic look for the soap swirling around his mouth. Nothing to be done for it, though! She helps herself to more soapsand and starts scrubbing her ribs, which means lifting her upper body out of the water, for those keeping track at home. Decently, she turns her back to him during this part of the process. "Man, you just poked a hole in my best-yet definition," she says, speaking over her shoulder. "I try to respect others, too, but that's where it gets tricky when I stop to think about it. 'Cause everybody views respect a bit different. What if I'm leavin' somebody alone who's worried about somethin', thinking I'm giving respect to their private thoughts, but they're thinking I don't respect 'em enough to find out what's wrong and try helping?" She splashes water up her back and stretches round to scrub up there. "You do your best, I guess. So it's really: respect yourself at all times, and when it comes to others, muddle through."
"Well, respect doesn't have to mean 'accomodate their every whim'." R'uen, for those keeping track at home, only takes a quick glance at her bare back and otherwise keeps his eyes on the swirling suds just below his nose. "I figure respecting others is something like keeping your nose out of places it doesn't belong, not judging, that sort of thing. When he lifts his chin from the water, the scruff is all soapy, which he isn't particularly aware of.
It's good that he's not watching. Good because, sooner or later, everyone has to (or /ought/ to) scrub their naughty parts, and Rhodya's just reached that threshhold now. At least, she skips a few steps into it when she notices Rev's distracted by suds, for the moment. "You're probably right," she says, eyes rolled up to the ceiling. All innocent. "I always try too hard to help folks out, but I s'pose sometimes you just gotta leave 'em alone. Let them figure their problems out." She dunks back into the water, turning back to face Rev like nothing in the world had just happened. Which as far as decency is concerned, it has not.
If R'uen could hear the narrator, he would be plugging his ears and singing at the mention of naughty parts and looking somewhat nervous. As it is, the first teeny tiny hint of awareness has him looking very much in the opposite direction. Because no one said anything about naughty parts. She's just washing. And washing is totally kosher. "Well, you know, unless they bring them to you. Then ignoring them might be sort of rude," he laughs weakly. It was a weak joke. "I don't mind hearing about peoples' problems. I guess I don't really... take them on as my own?"
If the narrator could predict Rev's response, it would call him a baby. But Rhodya would be totally mortified, so it's a good thing there's a barrier up. "Well, I mean... Shoot, you keep catchin' me in a poor turn of phrase over here. I meant as far as following everybody's little whims, like you said, sometimes you've just gotta back off and let them figure out what to do with themselves. They come to you for help, though, absolutely you try and help them. Absolutely." That second absolutely means she's overcompensating for being caught out (again!) in her word choice, but she's got to set the record straight. This is pure agreement, over here. "Bet that's a pretty good attitude for a Weyrleader to have, huh?" she continues, putting distance between herself and her slip-up. "There's people comin' to you with problems all the time."
The overcompensating makes him laugh, a quick, boyish sort of sound. "Well, if they're coming to me with, you know, Weyrleadery problems then I do take that on and all. But regular... people drama. I don't know, I have no problem hearing about it, sympathizing but... I don't know. Maybe I'm just self-absorbed." It's the damp of his chin and not the remnants of soap that make R'uen rub at it now. Or maybe it's the thoughtfulness, who can tell?
Whatever attracts R'uen to his chin, it's a different observation that has Rhodya squinting at him. She tilts her head, then breaks out the grin. "You've got a little soap," she tells him, miming a stroke of her own chin. "Made you look gray for a second; thought I was losin' it." She knocks her head, then reaches that same hand out for the soapsand. There are legs, after all, and one foot emerges from the water now like a little periscope. Soap coming? Yes, soap coming. It waits. "I get real into people drama. /Real/ into it. Official stuff, like if I was a Weyrleader, just bores me to tears."
Well with -that- information, R'uen wipes across his jaw with more purpose, and even looks a little disturbed by the prospect of being gray. "Shit, I'm too young for that. If I go gray now, I'm takin' Zaiventh and we'll go live on some southern beach for the rest of our lives eating coconuts and roasted pigs." He gives a damn-straight sort of nod and sinks into the water again, wet hands running rather protectively over his hair. "The jobs stuff isn't so bad. I mean, most of the time what people seem to want most is some sort of resolution."
"Language," Rhodya reminds him softly, her voice going up an octave to that singsong teachers use because they think it makes their rebukes sound more friendly. She's over the offense so fast that she's already chuckling at his defensive reaction to the thought of gray hair. "Well, that's just people drama in disguise. If they're unhappy with the folks in their wing, or the assignments they're getting, or what-have-you, that'd be interesting. It's all that stuff about, oh, resolvin' them cloth issues that'd get on my nerves. It's necessary for the Weyr and all, but hard to get real /invested/ in, if ya follow me."
R'uen pauses to give her a look for the language comment. "You fancy yourself a proper thing, don't you." And if the words alone aren't enough to make him seem skeptical, the entertained expression should do it. However, bringing up the whole cloth thing rather ruins the good time. His mouth twists to the side. "Yeah..." He's reall talkative on that topic.
Sensing his reluctance, Rhodya's quick to reassure him with a smile. "Oh, don't you worry. That wasn't a lead-in or nothin'. I really mean it'd bore me, so I ain't gonna ask you to talk about whatever's going on with that mess. Matter of fact, might make you promise you won't," she tells him, winking. The rest of her long leg emerges from the water, following its periscopic foot, and she tucks her knee up to her chin so she can reach it all with soapsand comfortably. "As to what you said, anyway: I do," she continues calmly. Never mind that spindly leg in her face, she's got plenty of dignity when it comes to her own propriety. "And that's also how I was raised. It ain't proper for a lady to act like she's a man, to go smokin' and cussin' with them just to fit in. So I don't hang around when the swear words start to come out." She smiles at him, sweet as you please. "Hope you don't mind."
"Well, it doesn't seem like anyone's died of cold this winter, so we must be doing all right. Right?" With that, R'uen will happily leave it all to rest. Meanwhile he's watching her periscope action with an unseeing dazed expression and letting a breath bubble from his mouth. "Doesn't that just mean that -you- don't smoke and cuss? Not that I'm not capable of cleaning up my mouth and all but... I guess I don't see the point in getting worked up about what other people are saying."
Rhodya frowns. "I'm not worked up," she points out, trying to be firm. The result is that she's just a little petulant, and maybe she realizes this, because she clears her throat. "Anyway, the way we talk to people's a reflection of the way we think of them. You wouldn't cuss in front of your mother." She assumes. "But if you cuss in front of me, and I don't say anything, maybe next it'll be dirty jokes. 'Cause I don't seem to mind, do I? Then next maybe you're makin' dirty jokes about me, 'cause I'm supposed to be a good sport. Well, I don't like any of that, so I draw the line early. Clean and clear." She pauses, then adds, "Mind, I ain't attacking you. I'm just trying to explain, and sayin' 'you do this, you do that' is the easiest way."
R'uen listens to all this with perfectly appropriate seriousness. After that moment of petulance that makes him smile, of course. After that's done he gets serious. And he listens. "Well, if we're going to talk about mothers... what if I swear and you give me that disapproving look and I ignore it but I know enough not to make dirty jokes about you?"
Rhodya chuckles, slipping her leg back into the water. The next one springs up to take its place. "Well, if we're streamlining, sure. I'm happy to give you the /look/ 'stead of interrupting your conversation. But I hope you ain't planning to just go on swearing and swearing, so I'm givin' you the look every five minutes till I give up and leave."
"Have I done that so far?" R'uen asks, looking up at her from his slouched and sunk position such that he rather unwittingly gives her the puppy dog eyes.
The puppy eyes soften her. Without even thinking about it, Rhodya gives him an 'awww, cute' sort of smile, all melted at the corners. "'Course you haven't," she assures him, and maybe if he was closer she'd pat him on the head and scratch him behind the ears, too. "I'm just funnin' ya. Nah, you'd be good about it, I'm sure. Not the mean type."
Another rub of his hand over his hair then slides down over his face. "What were we talking about? Before swearing and mothers and all that came up?" R'uen chuckles a bit, maybe a little awkwardly. He even glances over at the pool where his dragon is still rolling about in the depths, making a pest of himself to that poor soaking green.
"I don't rightly remember," Rhodya admits, after pausing to think about it. She looks at Rev and shrugs helplessly. "I remember I was callin' you old when you said it, but other'n that all I can think of is talking about bein' good to other people and that kind of thing. Don't know if we got onto another topic." Her leg thoroughly sudsed up, she lowers it back into the water. Squeaky clean now, her skin still flushed red in places, she looks quite content.
"Probably means it's a good time for me to make my departure then," R'uen says, pushing himself up from the water. "Before I swear again and get in trouble." He doesn't need to call out to the bronze, but a look in Zaiventh's direction has the dragon reluctantly bidding the green farewell and returning to the shore. "Hey, you know..." R'uen adds in as he steps out of the pool. "If I don't see you again, good luck with the eggs, huh? It's getting close."
Now that the work of getting clean is over, Rhodya's settling back to enjoy a few more minutes of warmth before she climbs out. So Rev's on his own getting out of the bath, but she smiles at him. "Thanks. Gets my heart all up in here," she waves a hand at the level of her throat, "to think about it, but yeah. We'll see what happens pretty soon. Nice talkin' to ya, Rev."
"This is the worst bit. Waiting, wondering, fretting," R'uen says as he takes some time to drip dry. His dragon should be doing the same, and Rev checks that with a glance over his shoulder. "Like I said, resolution." With a frown he looks around for a towel, finds one, and begins rubbing his head dry. "So, either way, it'll all be over soon. Which should be good, unless you're enjoying that heart in the throat sensation."
"Hah," Rhodya says drily, at the thought of enjoying this sense of nervousness. She shakes her head. "Not a bit, I can tell ya. Can't stand not knowing, and the wondering's the part that makes it worst, so I'm glad they're near to hatching. I could never stand not knowing what my birthday presents were, and findin' out what's in them eggs ain't any easier." She chuckles.
R'uen wraps the towel around his waist over his wet shorts. "It's getting close. Sounds like it could be any time now. And either way, I hope it turns out well for you." Then, taking up his regular clothes, "I'll see ya around, Rho," and he turns toward the changing rooms, because there have to be changing rooms, because naked and bending over to put your pants on isn't decent from any angle.