Will the Torment Never End? (K'lir/Open)

[Rowana]

T'ke found himself almost subconsciously checking the hall every time he left his room now. It wasn't his idea, really. He wasn't that paranoid, whatever people might say. But so long as Shard was with him, her built in terror of anyone or anything male just kicked in. It still somewhat bothered him that that rule didn't apply to him and still applied to Garaeth. It would be much better if she decided to babble at his dragon rather than him. At least Garaeth would listen.

Pretty shinies... Shard was saying. Something about some things she'd found somewhere. For such a timid creature, she did a lot of exploring. And talking. Tasty meats. Hot tasties. T'kemine like tasties? "Sure," he mumbled absently. At least Akyo was outside hunting. Keeping those two separate was a chore in itself

[glamourie]

“SHARD IT SHOWOFF I’M GOING TO PIN YOU BY YOUR FRILL TO THE BED POST!”

Alert, alert. Hurricane Lir present. Alert. As if the voice wasn’t enough to indicate that, though, the sound of stampeding feet (which distinctly resembled a herd of runners rather than one particularly small green weyrlingrider) coming up the stairs through the rider weyrs was. The green weyrlingrider, a storm of red hair and black clothes, barricaded up the steps as fast as his feet could carry him and then scrambled gracelessly (tripping twice) through the hall with a snarl on his face that was anything but pleasant. His shoes smacked the ground audibly and he stormed forward, scrambling along clumsily after the streak of bronze-and-red that was Showoff (and a casual viewer might have noticed that the salamandyr, at least, was far more elegant on the ground than his mindmate). His expression was definitely homicidal and those who knew him might have worried – K’lir was certainly in a right foul mood.

The reason being Showoff, who was wearing on his head the gold and ruby ring that Darya bought him once upon a time. The salamandyr was running at a ridiculously fast speed down the hallway, looking for all the world like the feline who got at the cream. He didn’t dare glance back at His, but he could hear him coming. That was notice enough for him to keep running as fast as he possibly could. The bronze stared ahead and snapped his wings close to his body to make himself like a torpedo speeding through across the ground faster, faster. He was wicked fast for such a tiny creature.

Why was Showoff in trouble? Well, the answer to that could be any number of reasons (Showoff was notorious for offending people, after all, though His was usually immune to his antics). Though, the main reason K’lir was angry with him was because Showoff absolutely destroyed something valuable to the green weyrlingrider in a fit of temper (he didn’t approve of K’lir flirting with anyone but Uu’n, after all). Said object was the black leather pants gifted to him by Uu’n, of which he had two pairs (the second one he was wearing). He’d come back to his room to find the pants shredded and Showoff chewing on one of the buttons. A normal person might find it amusing that a creature as small as the salamandyr had managed such destruction, but K’lir found nothing cute about it. He was very, very angry, and he’d been chasing Showoff all the way from the Weyrling Barracks. One thing could be said for the pair – both of them had quite a bit of stamina to keep running as fast as they were. K’lir was running on pure adrenaline.

Badmine no hurt me lovelove you Lirmine lovelove, Showoff called back. It was usually a sign to how afraid he was when the real terms of endearment came out – for better or worse, K’lir actually had managed to startle his salamandyr. Loveyou make good, make good. Lovelove.

Scrambling forward, Showoff spotted a likely suspect and bolted. The salamandyr ran right up to T’ke… and then proceeded to scramble up the inside of his pant leg, with absolutely nothing resembling modesty. He settled on the inside of T’ke’s thigh, but he wasn’t given much time to adjust because K’lir (being shameless) positively threw himself at the bluerider and proceeded to grope at him, hands going right down the waistband of his pants to try and get at Showoff. It never even dawned on K’lir that his behavior could be taken as inappropriate (but if it had he would likely have not cared). The green weyrlingrider snarled, repeating, “Going to pin you by your frill, you little monster – !”

[Rowana]

"EEAAAAAAHHHH!" T'ke gave a high pitched shriek as something wormed its way into his pants. His pants! He jumped wildly, but only succeeded in getting his legs tangled with each other. He didn't get a chance to just fall down though, because at that moment K'lir tackled him. T'ke didn't know which was worse: having some weird thing crawling in his pants, or having the other rider searching through them! "What? Why? Wait! Get off!" He babbled incoherently and shoved at K'lir. What in Faranth's name was he doing?!

The whole thing was too much for poor, little shard. The instant Showoff came into view, she had squeeked with terror and dove into T'ke's tangled hair. That he was crawling up Hers's pants could only mean he was coming for her! Shard wriggled with terror, barely able to put two words together. No! came her tiny voice. Go way! Then a human boy had come and they were both trying to get her. It was too much, and Shard gave up on language all together. Trying to hide even deeper, only got her more tangled, and she ended up slipping off T'ke's neck and dangling upside down with her long wings and legs caught in his hair.

[glamourie]

“Showoff you obnoxious little twit I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” K’lir proclaimed loudly, ignoring T’ke’s protests. If he wasn’t distracted he probably would’ve found the situation funny, but as it was, K’lir did not possess a single ounce of shame nor any modesty. His hand searched down T’ke’s pants, rooting around unabashedly. He never so much as looked up at the other boy’s face, for after a moment of digging around (and being wildly inappropriate as a result – he was probably making his unfortunate molestation victim quite uncomfortable) his fingers closed around Showoff, who bit down on the skin between his index finger and thumb stubbornly. The protesting of the female salamandyr was ignored by both males as K’lir yanked the bronze up and fixed him with a horrible glare, golden eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “Those were my favorite pants and I don’t know what possessed you to try and be an obnoxious little twit but I should break off your tail for it,” he hissed, holding Showoff firmly when two facts dawned on him:

A salamandyr was fussing at him and Showoff both.
And his hand was down another man’s pants.

Nononononono—

Ignoring his protesting salamandyr, K’lir lifted his head and a definite smirk went across his face. He tilted his head to the side, a long strand of blood red hair curling down in front of his face. He made no effort to remove his second hand, though he lifted Showoff to place the bronze-and-red salamandyr onto his shoulder. His eyebrows raised and he leaned forward, pressing his chest against T’ke’s stomach – intentionally backing the other boy up to one of the hallway walls in the process. No one ever said that K’lir was a subtle entity. In the back of his mind, Baoth was extraordinarily amused (at T’ke’s expense); apparently, she found it funny when Hers decided to be naughty. And he was being very naughty.

“Oh, hello,” he said, ignoring the frantic jumping and flailing. “I’m sorry; my salamandyr climbed down your pants and I’m quite upset with him.” Showoff quivered; he actually was frightened. “I didn’t mean to make you and your salamandyr uncomfortable.” But if he really cared would he still have his hand down T’ke’s pants? Good question. “My name is K’lir; I’m a greenrider. That’s Showoff. I apologize on his behalf…” Really. It was totally sincere. Totally.

He is the one who owns the avian that tried to eat the little worms. I remember his blue and colliding with him. I wonder if he’s just as skittish as his rider? It is tempting to go find out. Would you begrudge me if I did?

No flying. No one’s supposed to know that you can fly yet.

Disgruntled, Baoth flopped outside the weyrling barracks and twitched her tail. Not good. Hers was playing and she wasn’t. Not fair. Jealous, who, Baoth? A little: she liked to be the center of K’lir’s world. This one at least wasn’t a threat. She could feel the amusement that Hers was deriving from him – an entertainment, nothing more…