Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Nov 19, 2010 21:17:02 GMT -5
Was nice there.
Not exactly warm, it being fall, but still pleasant, nicer than the weather up North. And quiet. Quieter than a Weyr ought to be, he thought mildly, scanning both sides of the hall for activity. Not that it was deserted, but still. He pressed the heel of his hand thoughtfully against the hilt of the knife strapped to his thigh, took a left after a pause at the intersection into the Main Hall. Just follow the smell of food, really. Nose twitched hungrily, his other hand rubbing against the dark blonde stubble rough along the line of his jaw as he peered into the Main Hall. Ah. Food. He’d gotten it right, then. Pleased with himself, Cain passed through the room with a subservient nod to a dragonrider that he skirted around. Kitchens…
Ah, seemed like he’d hit the hot spot.
Cain hid a grin, ducking his head as he allowed the push and pull of Drudges to maneuver him through the mass, fetched up conveniently near the fireplace with pots of klah brewing. Hmm. The trader rocked up onto the balls of his feet, snatching himself a cup and pouring himself a hasty half-cup to decrease the likelihood of a spill and moved on, mourning quietly the unused half of the cup as he sipped. Cheerfully relieved a Drudge of an extra plate, and reversed his direction to get back to the dining hall—infinitely more challenging, given most Drudges were not interested in leaving the kitchens.
“Fucking civilization,” mumbled into a mouthful of bread, Cain finally making it to the edge of the kitchens and scanning the tables. No table was entirely empty—which meant he had to make nice. His mouth twisted to one side in an expression of resigned disapproval before he picked a table at random, strolling across the room as casually as he could, like he wouldn’t prefer to be outside with the rest of the traders. Had to be around to return the cup and plate, though, Faranth forbid the entire group of traders be blamed for stealing wooden eating utensils.
He set the plate and mug on the table, hooking his foot around one leg of the chair across from the person he’d decided would get to be unfortunate enough to share a table with him (or was it the other way around) that meal. “Hey,” leaning his thighs against the back of the chair with a slow smile, an attempt at being charming, even though it was probably hard to tell, what with the extra scruff that desperately required shaving, “Mind if I sit here? Name’s Cain. Don’t wanna butt in on anyone’s conversation, and since you’re alone. Won’t be long, promise. I’m a quick eater.”
Finished with another persuasive smile, Cain leaning forward, legs braced against the chair, hands still lingering on mug and plate to show he would ditch out if his presence was that disagreeable. Wasn’t like he was dirty or anything. Or had lice. Because he didn’t. If he had lice, he never would’ve gotten out of the bath until they were all gone.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Nov 21, 2010 20:31:58 GMT -5
"I know what your sharding name is, moron," Micah returned with a growl. His feet were propped up on the chair next to him. Too bad it would have looked too weird to have one there and one on the chair Cain was now occupying. Must be the absence of a pike - or his coat - or perhaps the other trader was just an unobservant fool. That would explain why he kept bothering Micah when everyone else seemed to get the picture. Case and point? Every other table was brimming with people at the height of the noon hour, but not Micah's. Though that could have something to do with the fact that he hadn't bathed in a sevenday.
When the glare didn't work, you could always rely on the stench. At least he could take solace in the fact that it would likely ruin Cain's appetite if it didn't drive him off.
While Micah had joined the traders' caravan in Blossom - with Cain, ironically enough, as it was the smaller man's idea to get out of that hold and move on to a better market - his words had the bite of a man from Hyphen behind them. So perfect was the accent you'd almost have thought he was intentionally playing it up just to put distance between himself and all the other southerners around. "Northern bastards everywhere," Micah grumped, water sloshing down his bearded chin. He wiped the moisture away with a sleeve.
"Can't hunt for shit around here, either. Don't think there's a single feline in a ten mile radius." Technically, he was here to sell hides, not acquire more. His trading was already done, however. Seemed people liked to throw the pelts around as throw rugs or something. Impress the pretty drudges they lured to their beds, maybe, bragging about how they'd gone and killed a feline bare-handed, all alone. He snorted at the thought. Whatever. If he was making a profit off it, they could contrive whatever story they damn-well pleased.
Upon noting, with some disgust, that Cain had yet to bugger off, Micah bit off a piece of meat. "Any luck with...what was that crap you sell again?" Yeah, no one ever said that the man paid much attention to anyone's business but his own. Too bad people didn't just burst into flame when you glared at them. It would make his life so much more...tolerable.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Nov 22, 2010 16:34:36 GMT -5
“You look considerably less grumpy from behind,” Cain replied calmly, undeterred by the growling. Plopping ungracefully into the chair, he stuck the end of the bread into his mouth to gnaw off a piece, also opting to attempt to be polite by not informing Micah that he very much needed to bathe. Like, yesterday. Stuffing his mouth made it easier to avoid scrambling for some way to answer, too, Cain mumbling noncommittal “Mmmm’s” when he felt some kind of indication that he was alive was necessary. He swallowed, and, utterly disregarding linear conversation, said, “You know they have bathing rooms. You’re probably scaring away the felines. They have noses, right? I bet they’re used to nice clean dragonriders hunting them. They probably think you’re a monster.”
And if Cain was not currently breathing, he was certainly not going to add that. The slightly nasal tone probably gave it away regardless. Not that he’d probably smelled much better on the way to the Weyr, but really. Details.
“’Snot crap,” he added, crinkling up his nose indignantly. Even though it was, granted you were over the age of five. “Toys. Trinkets. They sell. Everyone has a kid they’ve got to spoil, don’t they?” Plus, they were easy to make, even if after a while it reached a point of mind-numbing boredom. Kind of wished he could go after felines, too, but he wouldn’t—not if it made someone insane enough to go around smelling like Micah did. Which, clearly, it did. (And yes, he was a little fixated on it—what of it? This was the Weyr. This was the dining hall. There were baths nearby, why not use them while they could?)
Cain stuffed another piece of bread into his mouth, swallowed half of his klah in one go. “Anyway—how long are we staying, did you hear?” He was pretty sure whoever it was in charge of the caravan may have mentioned it to all of them at some point, but he was also pretty sure that at that point he’d been distracted. A kid may or may not have been attached to his leg, in dangerously close proximity to his knife, and he may have panicked. Because taking out a kid’s eye was not good for business. Ever. Not that Cain would know, but. Just a guess.
“Wanna bet I could bribe the kids into—” He paused to scoop up a mouthful of food, pushing it into one cheek so he could continue to speak, manners be damned, “—um, giving us pies before we leave?” Because, pie.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Nov 25, 2010 18:40:25 GMT -5
"I came to hunt felines, not pussies," he snarled. If a cat was going to run away because of his stench, he certainly wasn't going to find any challenge there. (Nevermind that this was hardly Cain's point.)
A brow rose at Cain. Right. All the dragonriders had kids they had to spoil. Wasn't like they didn't pawn their children off at the first opportunity to whichever holder passed through and caught their fancy. Not that fostering was a bad thing when the parents didn't want the kid and were likely to die at any moment. Though why they had to go around spawning in the first place was beyond him.
Micah merely shrugged at the 'toymaker's' question. "Aramis doesn't know, either. And since our illustrious leader is too busy kissing ass and stuffing his face..." He supposed they'd just leave when word came down to leave. That, or when you noticed that the rest of the traders were gone. It wasn't worth bothering over. Except he wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do with himself in the meantime, apart from resist killing all the irritants buzzing around him. His search for felines had turned up fruitless. He had no desire to be here when he had to be on his 'best behavior.' How he hated people.
The man sighed. "Pie. Really." He eyed Cain for a long moment. "You've got a terrible sweet tooth, you know that?" Probably the reason for the young man's stunted growth. No wonder he spent his time making toys for children; he was the size of one himself. Probably thought like one, too. Then he shrugged. "Fine. I'm bored enough. What is it that you want to bet?" Not that he thought he'd win, mind you, since Cain should find it easy to bribe kids. Though maybe not with a scary, 'smelly' man looming over them. Hm.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Nov 26, 2010 16:47:54 GMT -5
Well, meow.
Ha, ha.
Cain almost voiced the thought out loud (complete with ‘ha, ha’), before his brain vetoed that option in favor of continued life. Instead he tried to raise his own eyebrow at Micah (turnabout was fair play, right—wiggling eyebrows was definitely not something you could respond to any other way), and attempted to ignore how badly he failed. It was kind of a lie of omission, since the crèche was already well-stocked with toys. Most Holds, toys sold well. Just…not so much, at the Weyr, except for the crazies who thought they could rear a kid and a dragon simultaneously. So Cain’s money bag was a little empty—it wasn’t something he was going to broadcast, thanks.
He pulled a mild face at Micah’s response, sighed over the rim of his mug. “Fantastic,” Cain said, voice a monotone, “I always did want to get ditched by a bunch of crazy traders.” Wasn’t even going to bother asking if Micah—or Aramis, and therefore Micah—had caught where they were headed next. Obviously they had been just as interested in the trader’s speeches as he had. But hey—at least he had an actual reason. Right? Not mutilating a kid was plenty reason enough. Well. Maybe not to Micah (grumpiness was just radiating, come on, that couldn’t be good for selling things), but to him.
A wide smile; an overdramatic flutter of eyelashes. “That’s what Mommy always said!” The kids were rubbing off, clearly, if Cain was this pleased that Micah was going along with it. Not really playing along, but still. He’d take what he could get. “Tell you what. I’ll go see if I can’t get a written IOU from them right now, and if I do, you’ve absolutely got to take a shower, man. If Aramis smells as bad as you, then you’re also helping me drown him until he smells like roses or whatever their sweetsand smells like, and I don’t care if he’s dead or alive at the end of it. Um, and if I can’t.” Cain paused, swept the remainder of the bread, dipped in the meat sauces, into his mouth, and drowned it in the rest of his klah as well.
“Uh, I don’t know? You tell me,” as soon as he’d cleared his mouth adequately to talk, Cain pushing his chair back a little from the table in preparation to stand up and bolt for the crèche again. The sooner his companions smelled decent, the better. He wasn’t exactly picky about how they looked (the only standard there was ‘Not Stupid’) but…seriously. Smell. It wasn’t really too terrible to ask, was it?
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Nov 28, 2010 3:10:32 GMT -5
Imagining his fist knocking all those pretty teeth out of his grinning mouth was almost as good as actually smashing his fist into Cain's face. No one had a right to be that cheerful. (He also wasn't sure what the eyelashes thing was about though he was very certain he didn't approve of it.) Any further consideration of how to remove the smile permanently died fairly quickly in the face of this bet the other trader was laying down. First off, he wasn't going to go for this IOU thing. Involved way too much trust. It might not have mattered, but he really didn't have any interest in bathing whatsoever. He rather liked his invisible forcefield of stink, thank you much.
Which brought him to the other issue he took with this bet. "I'm not washing with a bunch of dragonriders," he stated with a growl. If Cain could figure out how to do it somewhere other than the common baths, more power to him, but he wouldn't be getting any helpful suggestions from Micah except as to where to stuff his sweetsand. Aramis he was fine with. The noisemaker might actually earn more than a couple 32nd marks to rub together if he didn't stink up to high heaven, after all. (Micah found that people didn't really expect you to be looking good, smelling nice, or overly talkative when you made a living killing huge, vicious cats. Mostly they just looked, pretended you didn't exist, and asked the price. An easy gig. Once the cat was dead and skinned, anyway.)
Oh, right. His end of the bargain. Micah held up a finger when it seemed that Cain was going to disappear at any moment. "I'm going with you, first of all. IOU's." He snorted, the sound conveying more than his words had. No, he didn't trust Cain at all. And if his presence just so happened to make it an actual challenge for the younger man, well, he certainly wasn't going to complain about that. "You skin the felines I kill for a sevenday if you lose. Once we get back into good hunting territory." Was that a bit incongruous? Probably. The stakes were enough in Cain's favor, though, that he should put more on the line. Or so Micah reasoned. "Bout time you got yourself a bit dirty, priss."
The older of the men pushed back his chair, slipping nimbly to his feet. The steel in the toes of his boots rung against the floor with a faint metallic clack as he stuffed his hands deep into his pockets. The long hair hung in greasy strands around his face, but it did nothing to dim the glare that cleared a space in front of him through the crowd. Micah stepped aside for Cain to go on ahead near the exit.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Dec 5, 2010 15:59:21 GMT -5
He shrugged, dismissively; where the bathing was done didn’t concern him. They could always sneak into someone’s weyr when they weren’t there and bathe, or just the river, or something. The point was not the bathing itself; it was the lack of smell that the bath would bring. Cain did not, however, stop the small dismayed noise at Micah’s response to his bargain. And here he’d been hoping the other man would just say something like ‘don’t talk to me for a week’. Of course that would be too simple. He wrinkled his nose slightly, sighed. “Disgusting. Fine.” He left the plate and his cup, empty, where they sat; the Drudges would take care of it, he trusted. And this was extremely urgent business here.
Cain’s hands found his pockets as he made his way between the tables towards the door, searching for anything that could be used as a bribe, since he doubted Micah would be willing to let him scramble out to the caravan to grab an actual bribe. Nothing. Except, go figure, a few threads and crumbs. Helpful. Well, then, he’d just have to convince them that stealing from the kitchens was a good idea. Oh, how he corrupted his customers. As he approached the crèche, Cain straightened automatically, flicking a quick glance over his shoulder at Micah (just how comfortable would he be with a toddler attached to his leg, he wondered).
Opening the door meant being simultaneously absorbed by a swarm of children, deafened by the raucous chatter, and blinded by the bright lights and rainbow of colors. Cain kind of loved it, even if he found himself dumped unceremoniously on the ground, still half-outside of the crèche, with a little girl attempting to climb him like he was her very own personal indoor tree, the words nearly incoherent in her excitement, “Didja bring me ‘nother toy?” Because, yeah, he didn’t really like just holding on to old toys, so if he couldn’t sell them then…he kind of gave them away. Quietly, but still. Gave them away.
He was just that good a salesman, clearly. (He may or may not have also spent approximately half of their time at Selenitas flat on his back in the crèche making up stories for the children. What—kids knew everything that happened around the Weyr, and he liked gossip.) Ruffling the hair of a blonde child who had sat down expectantly at his side, Cain sighed at the little girl, “I haven’t, I’m afraid. They’re all back at the caravan—but hey, look. I’ve got a friend, right?” Friend, sure. “His name’s Micah and he’s the guy over—” Cain leaned back until he was almost flat on his back in the hallway, “—there. The one who needs a bath. Go say hi, huh?”
The mention of someone new caught the interest of several children, and Cain bit back a laugh at the way their heads popped out of the door to look down the hall, their whispers of “which one, that one?” loud enough to be clearly audible down the entire hallway. There was a further moment of “you go” “no, you” before the youngest of the group finally wrinkled her nose and scampered towards Micah, stopping in front of him and peering solemnly up to offer, “Hi.”
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Dec 9, 2010 0:52:10 GMT -5
Too happy.
That was Micah's general description of Pern's population at large. Even the angry ones were too happy. Too happy to do this, that or the other. Delighted by their acts of violence. Then there were idiots like Cain who bounced around and relived the childhood they'd 'never had'. Which was just a fancy way of saying they'd never grown up, so they didn't know the difference between childhood and adulthood to begin with. How...irritating.
Yay. Kids. He arrested the mental complaints in light of the fact that he'd come knowing that they'd be here. He still wasn't very fond of children. There were a lot of interesting memories linked to them that he'd rather not deal with. The man glowered down at the children headed his way, his gaze narrowing still further when a little girl came right up to him and spoke.
"Yeah, whatever, kid." He moved past the little girl and walked up to the prone toymaker. Or whatever it was Cain wanted to call himself. "Hurry it up." Micah was not interested in sticking around any longer than he had to. It was so very irritating, after all. He nudged Cain in the side with his toe. "You've got five minutes. Then I'm leaving and the deal's off."
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Dec 21, 2010 16:45:48 GMT -5
Micah received a highly affronted look from the little girl who had addressed him, her arms folding across her chest and her chin lifting in a very huffy hmph. But she followed him back towards the crèche, brushing past him in a manner clearly intended to broadcast I am ignoring you as she fell back among the other children, a few of whom poked her, laughing at her spurned efforts. They didn’t notice the flicker of a pout that Cain aimed in Micah’s direction at his words. “That wasn’t part of the deal,” he hissed through his teeth, but he waved his hand in understanding anyway—he wouldn’t really need that long. Children rarely responded well to drawn-out, in-depth discussions, he’d discovered; spur-of-the-moment suggestions always seemed to garner better results.
He reached out for the offended little girl, who reluctantly let herself be pulled away from her fellows, pink with embarrassment at the rejection and still occasionally flashing indignant looks in Micah’s direction. “Hey, don’t be upset. See how grumpy he is? He’s like that until he gets pie, see. And smelly too. Did you notice that? I have to live with that,” he added in a conspiratorial whisper, crinkling his nose, and the girl looked at him uncertainly, her expression suggesting she was torn between continued offense and giggling, however reluctantly.
She settled on a skeptical, “Pie?”
“He promised me he’d take a bath if we got some pie,” Cain confessed cheerfully, and tugged lightly on one pigtail. “Except, see, the Drudges are scary. They’ve got these spoons, you know. Hurts. But they wouldn’t hit you all—you’re too cute. But I don’t think they like me much, and you know they make you wash before you get into the kitchens, right, so Micah can’t get any pie himself.” He frowned regretfully, thumbed at the corner of the girl’s mouth until she smiled reluctantly. Cain matched her grin immediately, “How about some of you guys go get him pie? I bet they’ll bake sometime before we leave, won’t they?”
“They will,” a nearby boy piped up. He shot a wary glance at Micah, edging a little closer to Cain. “They gotta be fresh pies?”
“Absolutely. We’re very particular about our pies,” Cain nodded solemnly. “You wouldn’t want him to eat the pies and then not take a bath, would you? Yuck.” He turned hopefully towards the boy who had spoken and a few of his friends, most of whom were peering with obvious curiosity at Micah—new to the crèche and guaranteed to be of interest. “So, will you?” he prompted, and the boy’s eyes dropped back to him again.
“Pie,” the girl said, her thumb finding her mouth as she glanced over at Micah and sniffed indignantly. “Maybe.”
“Yeah,” the boy corrected her. “If he comes back to pick them up with you.”
Well. Cain blinked, and then turned to raise both eyebrows at Micah. He hadn’t wanted it to end up as an ultimatum like that—with the ball firmly in Micah’s court. But hey—if he refused, he could probably keep pushing until the children agreed. Promise them this or that; there was bound to be something (or someone, maybe?) more interesting to them than Micah was. It was just that he was there, all shiny (debatable) and new (not). “Pie,” he offered, and shrugged. “Yeah?” Not exactly eloquent, of course, but he figured it at least made sense, and that was all that counted, surely.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Dec 22, 2010 3:30:28 GMT -5
Well, if nothing else, Cain definitely got points for creativity. Using Micah's surliness against him to help coax the children into giving them pies was something the older trader certainly hadn't anticipated. (Not that he really cared a ton about the outcome. If anything, he was humoring Cain out of boredom.) He showed no outward interest in the conversation. Inwardly, however, the man made a mental note and filed it under 'how to manipulate weak-willed snotfaces'.
The hunter's sole contribution to the entire interaction was directing death glares at any of the children he caught staring at him. It was almost like a game to him. How long could they manage to look at him before they wilted and glanced away? Oddly, some of them did better than adults. Presumably the ones who had been dropped on their heads way too many times as infants.
Oh, lovely. Looked like Cain was going to win this one after all. He should be acknowledged as a master child manipulator. Seeing as how that was so very impressive. He and Ari could fight over the child-tricking crown. The boy's ultimatum, however, did leave the hunter blinking rather blankly at him. Come...back? Why? Must have a morbid sense of excitement. Maybe Micah should take him on a hunt to see if that weird set of interests held up when faced with entrails and bloody fangs.
The trader shrugged a shoulder. "Whatever." Sabotage was only fulfilling when it wasn't overt. That was just too easy. His nose wrinkled. "How long are we going to have to hang around the booger eaters? I can feel what intelligence I have left leeching away with every passing second." Giving the kids one more lingering look of disgust that suggested they were discarded garbage laid out in his path, Micah turned on a heel and headed down the hall that would lead out to the outside.
"If this is some harebrained attempt to get me naked, Cain, you'd best rethink it," he grumped to the other trader, not really caring if the man was following behind. Or if the kids were within listening range. They'd all learn eventually, after all, so why bother shielding them from anything.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Dec 22, 2010 12:53:07 GMT -5
Wait, what?
Already prepared to offer the children Ari instead, Cain blinked perplexedly at Micah’s…well, not agreement, but something close. He recovered himself a minute later, and then grinned at the boy. “Done, then,” he said brightly, offering his hand to shake the boy’s. The girl intercepted it solemnly, sticking out his tongue at the boy’s expression as his friends tittered. Cain shook the girl’s hand seriously, whispering a conciliatory “ignore him” at her when Micah continued to speak. How rude of him. And the children were getting them pies and everything. At the sight of the hunter turning to leave, though, Cain pulled the girl in for a brief hug. “I’ll come back later, okay? I’ve gotta go make sure Micah doesn’t murder anyone horribly for now.”
Winking at the other children, Cain rolled to his feet and speed-walked after Micah, since outright running would’ve sacrificed more dignity than he had to spare. He caught up with Micah in time to hear the trader’s grumbling; part of him wondered if it had been loud enough to carry back to the children and threw a quick glance over his shoulder to the crèche to ensure it hadn’t. Given that none of the children were making “ew” faces, it was probably safe to assume it hadn’t. Fortunate. “Not you,” he replied, content now that he was sure Micah would make less smelly company in a short while, “Ari, maybe.”
He tilted his head sideways to glance at Micah, hands hooking into his pockets casually. “You need sweetsand? I’ll meet you up by the river if you want me to grab some.” Cain wouldn’t promise Micah wouldn’t end up smelling like violets or something equally manly, but that was what he got for not having his own sweetsand—Cain always ended up borrowing what he could take, whenever he could. Which usually meant he got a medley of different kinds of sweetsand all mixed together, but hey. It worked. “And I don’t suppose you keep tabs on Ari.” Which was kind of a pity, but whatever; they’d bump into him eventually, Cain was sure.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Dec 23, 2010 1:46:38 GMT -5
A glance was spared Cain. Then Micah rolled his eyes. "I wish I thought you were joking." His tone was completely flat. Actually, though, it might be worth the annoyance of continued exposure to see Ari's reaction...Hm. "If we're going to do this we might as well do it right. As for Ari, you should just be able to follow the terrible gitar playing. Meet you there."
The hunter wandered off toward where the river switched into heavy cover and began discarding layers of clothing that many would have called superfluous. Much like a puffer fish letting out all its air, the man was a good deal smaller than he appeared once boots and clothing found its way to the formidable-sized pile by a boulder. The scarred man slid into the water and ducked his head beneath the surface.
A scathing glance was directed at movement inside his pile of clothing, movement which stopped immediately. No common sense nowadays. Tch. Now where was that Cain? For such a ridiculously energetic little person, the blonde took forever and a day to get around, now didn't he? Micah was quickly growing bored again. He wasn't going to be staying in the river much longer if Cain didn't hurry his ass up.
He was swimming against the current for something to do by the time sounds from the nearby foliage alerted him to someone's approach. "Took you long enough. You go to find Ari first or something?"
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Dec 23, 2010 11:50:52 GMT -5
“Yeah, turns out Ari isn’t the only one around who sucks at gitar. Guy was kind of upset about it. And plus he was a Wastelander, as he had me know, and why exactly was I wandering around anyway, didn’t I have somewhere to be and something to do?” Cain rolled his eyes, tossing a packet of sweetsand at Micah as he pulled himself onto a rock, sitting cross-legged, a towel draped over his forearm. “There. You might end up smelling like a field of flowers, mind. Specifically, lavender, honeysuckle, and roses, I think, and then some, but those’re the main three. Save some for Ari, yeah?”
It wasn’t a lot of sweetsand, but he figured it out to be enough and then some—Ari didn’t strike him as likely to be as smelly as Micah was. And if he was, then he’d just have to go…borrow some more sweetsand. Wasn’t like anyone would miss it. Probably.
“You want me to turn around?” he added helpfully. “I can—I don’t know, keep guard or something.” There wasn’t really much to guard against, but Cain didn’t say so; it seemed like most people were staying firmly indoors, which, for this cause, was good. Maybe being caught outside would qualify as suspicious; the only thing he thought they really needed to worry about was a sweeprider dipping in at random. Highly unlikely. No need to fly sweep so close to the Weyr, was there? “Or watch the birds, I guess. Memorize the trees. Highly exciting.” Cain smiled winningly, already starting to rotate to put his back to Micah. Doubted it was necessary, but…whatever.
He’d gotten Micah to bathe. He was content without an eyeful.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Dec 23, 2010 21:09:51 GMT -5
"Foot in mouth syndrome strikes again? Goes to show you that you should be certain of who you're talking to before you open your mouth." Micah didn't have to be terribly imaginative to know what sort of thing Cain might have said to a man he believed to be Ari. Some people just got overly prickly when random strangers pointed out that they sucked at whatever it was they were trying to do at the time. (This of course never stopped Micah, but he didn't care, so that was a little different.)
The trader caught the bag of sweetsand with a grunt in response to Cain's words. He sniffed at it curiously and pulled a face. Yay. Just what he'd always wanted. To smell like a woman who couldn't make up her mind which flower she wanted to smell like. Kill him now. With a roll of his eyes, he set about getting this river bath over and done with.
"I really don't give a rat's ass what you do. Play connect the dots with my scars for all I care. Just shut up for a few seconds at a time, will you?" Babbler. Cain and Ari both. He should employ the pair of them to babble men in a room to death. They could use up all the oxygen and everyone else would asphyxiate. It was viable. Micah scrubbed the last of the stench off him and tossed the bag back at Cain, wading out.
"Now we find Ari. Maybe you couldn't find him because he was sleeping." Micah smiled for the first time since encountering Cain. Wouldn't a nice cold river bath be a nice way to wake up that little noisemaker?
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Dec 24, 2010 16:24:25 GMT -5
“Since you asked so nicely,” Cain muttered, rolling his eyes at the trees. (He imagined that they rustled sympathetically, because nobody, not even a tree, was immune to Micah’s grumpiness, surely.) The trader did go silent, though, absently focusing on the splashes from behind him, fingers tapping against the stone next to him—thoughtlessly at first, and then rapidly turning into the beat of a song, accompanied by a strange whistle-hum hybrid. It was cut off with a startled choking sound at the bag of flying sweetsand, which clipped his shoulder before dropping into his lap innocently. Cain blinked down at it and the wet spot it was creating on his pants, and promptly set about wiping it dry with the towel before swinging himself around to fling the towel at Micah. Small revenge was still revenge.
He slid off the rock, slipping the still-damp bag into his pocket. “If he’s sleeping at this time of day, what’s the bet he’s tucked in some tree like fifty feet off the ground? He seems to like those.” Trees, not height—as far as Cain knew Ari had yet to decide that a cliff or a weyrledge was an appropriate napping place. But hey, who knew. It was Aramis. “Could start back by the caravans, ask if anyone’s seen him there.” He leaned back against the rock, arms crossing loosely across his chest, waiting for Micah to finish dressing before he pushed himself upright, starting off back down the river with a quick backwards glance to make sure Micah was, if not following, at least alive.
Hey, who knew what was in that mix of sweetsand—he could’ve had an allergic reaction or something. (It was incredibly tempting to see how close you had to be to smell the flowery scent—hopefully not very, because not many people got that close to Micah that he’d seen and Cain was very much looking forward to their expressions if they caught a whiff of him now. But outright sniffing him…would probably not be the best course of action, all things considered. He would be sneaky.)
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