Cold as a - (C'oar)

[Requiem]

In all his nearly twenty turns, X'rx could not remember being this ridiculously cold. It didn't help that he had no clothing meant for colder weather. Even his riding jacket was characteristic of a weyrling with no real money for anything of any real quality, and holes were already wearing into the elbows. (He wore it now because it was the warmest thing he had.) Pants meant to be breathable and suited for a tropical weather pattern did nothing to stop the biting wind. He'd taken to wrapping his limbs in sheets torn up from the ones he'd been using, as well as winding the odd bandaging around his torso to help trap in the heat. X'rx had even invested in gloves that had fingers, and the hair that he'd meant to cut shorter was now being left long. Cloth was wrapped around his head, mouth and nose, leaving only his eyes free. The dark, too pretty, too young eyes, complete with the ambiguous nature of bulkier clothing and his natural slim grace, pretty much made it certain that anyone glancing at him would think female. Add the knots of a greenweyrling to that and it was pretty much clinched. One of the crafters had swatted his rump today, telling him to 'be a good lass and fetch some wine for a weary working man'. X'rx had done so silently.

In his experience, it was best to leave people to delusions of that nature. They tended to fluster if you told them otherwise and, depending on how drunk, curse and cause a scene.

Eveyth had retreated to curl up with Mavenath, shamelesly borrowing his warmth. In all honesty, she would have been just as happy with Trilaranth, but the green didn't want to upset Feyrianth, who seemed to have claimed their brown clutchbrother for herself. It was from the bronze's ledge that she nudged lightly at the mind of Hers. X'rxLove. You are shivering, and will catch cold. Have we not discussed that until you make a nice layer of fat you must spend more time indoors? Why not curl up with Mavenath's? He is big and warm. He is bronze, and does not like men. He wouldn't be comfortable with that. X'rx squinted against the wind, clutching the armful of firewood for the hearths in the kitchens closer to his chest. Besides. I haven't yet finished. Don't be silly. You are green. You are Mine. Bronzes like greens, and Mavenaths really like Eveyths.

X'rx hunched his shoulders, not bothering to argue with his beloved. Logical as Eveyth was, for whatever reason she could not wrap her mind around genders. People were the gender of the dragon they Impressed to, in her mind. A little odd to think that even his dragon thought of him as female but...eh. What could be done? The cold really was sinking into his bones, though, to the point where he'd entirely lost all feeling in any skin exposed to the open air. And the rest of him was getting stiff, too. The faint, alluring glow of the forges beckoned in the near distance, and he changed course. Maybe a short break. Just to warm up.

He stepped through the door, swiftly putting his shoulder behind it to cut off the wind before it could bother the sole occupant. X'rx's eyes widened for a moment as he took in a R'ven-sized man working the forge...larger than R'ven, even, by the looks of it. In bulk if nothing else. Faranth, these smiths got huge, didn't they? Setting the wood down, he pawed at the fabric covering his lips, then pulled off his glove with his teeth, wriggling his slender fingers and wincing slightly as pins and needles erupted in his hand, sending odd stabs up the nerves in his arm. "Cold as a- It's unreasonably cold out," he amended, in his quiet voice, cutting off the cursing before it could start.

[dragon]

The cold draft that came in with X'rx was worse than just a draft. It was more than just cold. After spending hours on end slaving over a fire hot enough to make metal runny like water, plain old normal summer temperatures seemed chilly. Winter weather was even colder. But that was expected. Any Smith worth his salt knew there would be temperature differences. However ... getting a gust like that, at those sub temperatures... that was not looked for.

"Shards!" C'oar exclaimed, as the gust not only washed across his rather bare shoulders, but also put out half his fire. Yanking his metal out of the suddenly half as hot fire, he dropped it into a barrel of oil before it could warp. Turning, he witnessed X'rx closing the door again. Thank Faranth, the cold also stopped with that, though it looked like it took an effort to close the door from the little scrap that had come in.

Nevermind almost anyone was a little scrap, next to C'oar.

"Unreasonably cold is right." C'oar agreed, rubbing one shoulder with one heavily gloved hand - not for warmth, but to keep from getting burned! "What happened, did a storm blow in since this morning?" He asked, a bit alarmed to know the temperature had dropped that far in just a few hours. Or had it? Had he instead just acclimated that well to the intense heat of the forge?

Watching the youth untangle himself from the mummification he'd entrenched himself in, C'oar couldn't help but shake his head. Most of that looked like junk, up to and including the real bits of clothing that the kid was wearing. "When was the last time you went to see the headwoman?"

[Requiem]

He'd hoped not to disturb the smith too much, but clearly that hadn't quite gone as planned. The other glove came off, the scarf unwinding from his head. A small, apologetic smile graced his lips. "Not really a storm. Massive cold front, lots of wind...there's frost." There was a note of incredulity behind the words, like X'rx still didn't quite believe it himself. He was grateful for the unseen strips of cloth wound against his skin, because the change in temperature between outside and in here wasn't quite as bad. The greenweyrling carefully arranged his gloves and scarf on the wood he'd set aside. "I'm sorry to disturb you. I just...it seemed warm, and...well, I really wasn't thinking, is the truth of it." He rubbed at the back of his head. "I didn't mess up anything I hope?"

The young man's eyes widened slightly at C'oar's question, a flush creeping up into his face. "I..." He toed at the ground, eyes falling away from the smith's. "They're not that bad, are they?" He really couldn't afford buying a lot of new things, with no craft and still being a weyrling. Drudgery wasn't exactly a craft, after all. But he was careful to keep up with his clothing and mend it when needed. The riding jacket was fairly new, all things considered, but standard issue for weyrlings. They didn't exactly bother going too expensive on the leather or the make. The pants had needed repairing at the seams more than once, but they were fine right now, and the boots were clearly worn but...no one had ever said anything about them being too old or ugly. No one had ever criticized him quite like that, and within seconds of meeting him. X'rx could only determine that the people who knew him were just too nice to mention anything.

Glancing around, he found a tray, pulling lightly at any strands of hair that had gotten out of place, readjusting the couple of feathers worked into the side braid, and fiddling with his collar. He didn't look at C'oar, his face still flushed with embarrassment. "The Headwoman has a granddaughter she wants to...well...she and my mom are friends. Keeps asking me when I'm going to take Ulra dancing, and the girl always looks at me so..." He waved his hand vaguely, brushing at his clothing to clear away the frost with his other hand. "I can't bring myself to tell her I can't, you know? So I try to avoid them really." He glanced back over his shoulder at C'oar, almost warily. "It it really that bad?"

[dragon]

C'oar nodded. "That explains the sudden temperature drop, in any event." He answered. Cold front ... those things were almost unheard of to the region. But they happened. This was probably the worst one in C'oar's lifetime, however. "No, you didn't ruin anything. I wasn't expecting the draft, though." He shrugged, pulling his own gloves off of his hands and setting them on a nearby metal-topped table that was littered with a myriad of metal working tools. Hammers and chisels and tongs and all sorts of things of that nature. Even a few stirring sticks that were in funny shapes from having been used for too long a period in molten metal or from having been set aside with bits of molten metal on them and left to cool. Quite the interesting collage just the stirring sticks made.

However, one of the last things C'oar expected to witness was the twitchy compulsory grabbing of something shiny and checking of appearance. Hair and feathers included. Saeo had never been that way, so he'd never gotten used to even girls doing it. Having a young lad do it was even odder. Especially as a reaction to something he had said. C'oar just stood there and watched, before wondering if maybe X'rx wasn't a little touched in the head. Or ... more akin to the stereotypical greenrider? Anyway, not his business. "Actually." C'oar started, realizing he'd accidentally touched upon a sore spot of sorts. "No. If you consider that half what you're wearing isn't clothes. No, it's not that bad. I just asked because most of the time when a major temperature change happens, most people go get appropriate clothes for it, instead of wearing their bedding." He offered, trying to console the poor lad. "You know ... I didn't mean to insult your sense of style."

The admission to why he might or might not be avoiding the headwoman, however, gave C'oar pause for thought. Leaning on the sturdy table, he crossed his arms over his chest. A lad who didn't know how to dance. Not very often a body wandered across one of those. However, admission to there being a girl at the root of the awkwardness successfully blew the lad thinking he was a girl theory out the window. "Well, it's not that hard to learn." He offered. "But more importantly, the question should be do you want miss Ulra's attention? If you don't, then I wouldn't worry about it."

[Requiem]

He'd been distracted by the compulsion to set himself straight - it was not the only compulsory behavior X'rx had, but it was the most common manifestation of what was really a very mild form of OCD, and anyone who knew X'rx's family (his siblings in particular) would probably say that there was a genetic tendency toward mental...oddities. Disorders was really a bit too strong a word for it. X'rx, at least, was quite sane, and Ximera knew that the kitchenware wasn't really alive, even if she did talk to them. Though distracted by the need to make everything just so, the greenweyrling did note that he hadn't done anything to mess up the smith, and a relieved smile was directed his way.

The hands in his hair stilled, X'rx blinking openly at C'oar. "What?" He glanced down, but he couldn't see the winding cloth strips hidden under his clothes down his collar. The weyrling took a step back and extended his arms in front of him. Maybe they were showing at the ends of the sleeves? No. Maybe it was just the angle, but no, he couldn't see the bindings there, either. "You can see them? I just did it to trap in the heat before throwing on warmer clothes. It did come on rather sudden, you know. The cold front." If that was the reason for his question, it made a little more sense, though it was curious that his first assumption was X'rx was wearing his bedding for warmth and he wasn't injured or something. The greenweyrling would have assumed bandaging meant injuries - you know, if he hadn't done it to himself.

Style? X'rx snorted softly, at that, but didn't comment. He'd never been concerned with style. Looking presentable, sure, but he'd been a drudge too long, with maybe three changes of clothing to his name, to be overly concerned with style. "I suppose enough people know how that it couldn't be too terribly impossible," X'rx mused aloud, turning fully to face C'oar. The flight jacket came off as his body warmed, the long-sleeved shirt beneath draped loosely over the slender frame. A touch of color flushed his cheeks. "Well...I kind of already have - have had - um...she's a nice girl." They were childhood friends, actually, and yes, that friendship came with certain benefits once they'd gotten old enough to get curious. "Ulra wouldn't mind if I sucked, but...well, I don't want to break all her toes."

[dragon]

C'oar grinned just a bit as X'rx went from compulsory checking of self to startled checking of self. "No, I can't see it, but when you look at it all together." He gestured vaguely at X'rx in general. "Your face isn't round enough for all that bulk to be you. Unless you've got a really bad case of worms or something. Which again, is not apparently the case. It's also not carried the way body mass is. Neither flabby or otherwise. It's massive, but not heavy. Demonstrated by the way you move. Also bulk you're not used to, demonstrated by the way you move with it. I am assuming it's wound ... thus by the little ridges it is making in your clothes where windings overlap?" C'oar guessed. "Considering the condition of things, it's not a very big leap to try and guess what exactly it is you're wearing. I mean, in general, people don't stuff their clothes with the rest of their wardrobe when extra layers are wanted. Not in that fashion anyway. Given that Weyrs don't tend to have curtains ... that sortof only leaves you with tablecloths and sheets." C'oar shrugged. "Most of it was just deduced. And yes, I agree. It came on sudden. I admit I didn't notice." He gestured at the fire that was slowly spreading back to the rest of the fuel, the bits that had been put out. Soon, it would be back up to heat, even without the bellows being worked much.

"Well ... okay. It sounds to me like you are to some extent interested in dancing with her?" C'oar guessed. "In that case, it might behoove you to go ahead and learn to dance. Never know, it might be a skill come in handy further down the line." He shrugged just a bit. "Certainly can't hurt." He picked up a tong, and tapped it on the edge of the table in a steady beat. "If you can keep time, you can dance. That's all it takes. And not even that, really. After all, dancing usually goes with musicians, and they can keep time. If you can follow time keeping, you can dance. Dancing is actually very very simple, unless you get into the really complex stuff. But that usually only happens with a lot of people and a boisterous party with a very good music setup." Throwing the tool down atop the heap of other tools again, he picked up a shovel and rearranged the forge's fire a bit, keeping some of it from relighting so fast. He was rather aware that most people weren't acclimated to the heat of a forge, and C'oar didn't think cooking X'rx back into the ice was a very polite thing to do. Besides ... a break every now and then wasn't a bad thing.

[Requiem]

The initial widening of X'rx's eyes had given way to a look that was decidedly more calculating - though there was nothing about the greenweyrling that would ever make that look seem more than mischievous as he simply wasn't of a size or temprament to be ominous - as C'oar explained the line of guesswork that had led him to his conclusion. Now, some might have been impressed at the logic. It wasn't that X'rx wasn't...for all that he wasn't stupid by any stretch of the imagination, he was more tuned in with other things. Emotion, for example. But he found it very curious that C'oar was paying that much attention to his face and bone structure. Very interesting indeed. Particularly considering the windings had apparently been the first thing he noticed, and he'd discovered them by how the bulk of the clothes hadn't seemed to match X'rx's frame. Hm. Now, the greenweyrling knew it wasn't completely unnoticeable, but he was careful enough about his appearance that he knew the difference was relatively subtle. Even those who knew him should have had to actually look closely to tell. You'd never catch him wandering around looking like a bear preparing for hybernation, after all. Unseemly.

He wasn't sure if C'oar was really his type or not. Men that size - and brownriders in general - could be really odd about what X'rx considered to be a natural attraction. And the greenweyrling really didn't have much of a desire to pursue anyone who looked down on him like he was some sort of dirt fleck just because he wasn't particular about gender. Still and all, it was an interesting bit of information to hold onto, in case any other indications came along. C'oar wasn't unattractive physically. X'rx tended to like his men very...male.

Listening to C'oar's explanation, he cocked his head to one side. It seemed like that was all the brownrider intended to say, however, as he stirred around the fire. "Uh...that's interesting and all but it still doesn't really solve my problem. I don't think I'd have trouble keeping time, but what do I do?" Despite the fact that C'oar was reducing the heat, the torn strips of old bedding were serving their purpose too well. He stripped off his shirt, removing the long, winding bandage-like sheets from his torso and arms. The shirt went back on, and he turned to face C'oar. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to, you know, teach me?"