faith is moving without knowing. [m'ta]

[glamourie]

So much sharding seafood. R’wign hated seafood.

The expression that the Weyrhealer wore could only be described as disdainful as he sat, half-sprawled, back against one of the picnic tables. His good arm was stretched over the length of the table behind him, while his other arm (with the injured shoulder) was still carefully placed in a sling to avoid jarring the joint damage. He was healing slowly – most of his other wounds (the swollen lip in particular) had healed, leaving only the stab wound. The location was really the only reason it hadn’t healed yet. Joint injuries were always the worst. Looking at him, it would be hard to tell that only two months ago, his face had looked like someone decided to play punching bag with him. He’d even repierced his bottom lip in an act of stubbornness. He was getting better. He was. It was just taking time, but the Gather actually helped… if one ignored the fact that the whole place smelled of seafood. That was making him nauseous. Yes, yes it was.

R’wign grumbled and bowed his head slowly. His hair was getting long again – he’d have to cut it soon – and the intense heat led to him pulling it back in a very short runnertail to get it out of his face. The clothes he wore reflected the weather nicely: a loose fitting pale green tunic over equally loose fitting black pants: he only owned black, it was problematic. Fortunately a lot of his clothing was baggy and light – R’wign being from a very warm region helped with dealing with the heat. That didn’t mean that he relished it any and he’d gone through three cups of water so far. The heat wasn’t helping the upset he felt at having lost several of his firelizards, who were unable to handle the extreme temperatures. He’d left poor Ellie back at the weyr with Vex and Grumpy, and he’d set out a bowl of ice water for them to writhe in to cool down. Grouch just wouldn’t stay away, even for his own health. Silly flitter.

I like the weather. The water here is very warm and comfortable.

Happy dragon was happy. Miserable healer was miserable. Where was his weyrmate? R’wign crinkled his nose. It was early afternoon, the hottest part of the day, and R’wign still had a lot of shopping to do. He intended to spend the Gather with M’ta. Teri was safely tucked away in the crèche of Selenitas, where it was actually cooler than at Southern Hold and Meira had Riaren: the day was full of possibilities. Most importantly: he needed to pick up new weapons… or, weapons period. He didn’t own any and with learning self-defense, he needed to actually get some. M’ta was needed to test out the weight and quality of anything he intended to use. Theoretically he could ask Ka’rys to do that, but it was much more fun to hang on his weyrmate in public, despite the heat. After that, he wanted to head to the weaver’s stall and get some custom clothing made, and then they needed to go to jewelry. And he had to figure out a way to get M’ta’s ring size without outright telling him that was what he was doing. Silly, perhaps, but he wanted to do it anyway.

Over-all, R’wign had big plans for the day. He also intended to try and convince his beloved weyrmate to enter the costume contest. He was going to and it’d be fun if they could get paired up together. Unlikely, but fun nonetheless. Tilting his head to the sky, R’wign clicked his tongue. So far no clouds; it wouldn’t last. It rained almost every day, but hopefully their shopping would be done in time to get out of the elements. Then again, a nice cool rain could be very satisfying to lower body temperature and deal with the heat. Decisions, decisions. But where was M’ta?

“If he doesn’t get his perfect behind here soon, I’m going to bite him,” the healer stated to his firelizard conspiratorially, and Grouch made a low chirp that was obviously amused. Biting indeed.

[Requiem]

Toes colored dark through genetics rather than sun exposure curled against the wood, the braid dangling down past his shoulder as he draped an arm over his knee, listening to his weyrmate's grumbles from the bench opposite R'wign - and consequently behind him. Boots dangled from that hand. The leather was heating up to nearly foot-melting levels out here on the beach. A fine sheen of sweat had developed on exposed arms and down the center of his chest in the time it had taken him to walk from the small shop near the center of Southern Hold out to where the Gather was being held. Loose pants, light tan and flaring wide around his ankles, held up by a dark brown scarf in lieu of a belt and a sleeveless vest that almost reached his waist and had no way of fastening, white and with limited needlework in dark brown along the edges where buttons or laces normally would be - all this came together to form a new addition to his rather laughable wardrobe. (The old biddies had stolen the clothes he'd worn there and refused to give them back. That's what you got for employing older women to make a joining outfit; they started treating you like an adorable fosterchild or something. They gave him the creeps. At least the fitting had gone fairly well...and despite his initial skepticism it would actually probably look nice. Though he didn't know what formal clothing was so he was likely a bad judge.)

"Seems my timing's bad," he commented, exceedingly amused. "Should go and spend another candlemark in the hold, with a promise like that." The dark-skinned man - who fortunately had nothing to worry about when it came to sun exposure - walked around the end of the picnic table and plucked at R'wign's shirt, lifting a brow. "Bad luck be damned?" he questioned, the teasing note still very much in evidence. The healer had asked him what color he looked best in, protesting that green was bad luck when M'ta responded. Yet here he was. A definite smirk touched the man's lips. They'd come separately because of M'ta's business, which would be a good deal more obvious now considering those bothersome, meddling weavers. Old people. Shudder.

The smaller brownrider twisted, making a show of attempting to see behind him. "Perfect, handsome? I'm flattered. I mean, nice I could see, even hot, but perfect. Not every day you get a compliment like that while a man is grumping." His gaze flicked up to Grouch, a brow cocking at the silly firelizard. All his mindmates - with the exception of Behruth - were inside where it was cooler. He smiled at the blue anyway, though. Grouch should be fine; he had been so far and it seemed that the ones that couldn't handle the heat had succumbed early. At least...he hadn't heard of any dying recently. Grouch was unabashedly one of M'ta's favorites, and he didn't mind admitting it, though he wouldn't say it aloud where the others of R'wign's fair could hear. Or...not quite so large a fair now.

Ignoring how ridiculous it likely looked, M'ta tied the laces of his boots together and slung them around his neck. "So then, R'wign...anywhere you want to go?" He dug the flask out from the belt crossing his hip and mostly obscured beneath the dark scarf, tugging at it with his teeth and taking a sip of the water before offering it to his weyrmate.

[glamourie]

Surprised – yes, the healer was most assuredly surprised, as evidenced by his actual jumping in response to M’ta’s words. Turning his head to the direction of the voice, his eye followed M’ta’s movements before he crinkled his nose in response to the words; he was very obviously less-than-impressed. The idea of M’ta staying inside just to avoid him (however teasingly) was ill-received and he satisfied his annoyance by playfully nudging the other brownrider with the end of his boot. The question made him smile though and he jutted his chin up before picking neatly at the shirt he wore – as if he hadn’t realized what color it was when he put it on. He had. It’d been deliberate. R’wign liked wearing things that he knew M’ta liked. Given a choice, that was all he’d ever wear, exclusively. His weyrmate was the only person whose opinion truly mattered to him, after all, and if M’ta thought he looked ravishing, well… that was excellent.

“I don’t have the foggiest idea what you’re talking about,” he replied with an indignant sniff. His gaze lingered on M’ta’s face for a moment before he leaned forward to pull his weyrmate into a very tender kiss that he broke by nipping his bottom lip playfully. “I wore it just for you. How do I look?” And with that, R’wign stood up and gave a mock, obviously playful twirl before turning back to M’ta expectantly. While most of his temperament hadn’t changed, there was a very noticeable difference in how R’wign regarded himself; before the attack, he probably wouldn’t have asked that question for fear of the answer. But he’d looked at himself in the mirror before coming and he liked what he looked like, for the first time in over a turn, and he wasn’t embarrassed to ask. If M’ta disagreed? Well, he’d probably razz him. Merciless, R’wign was.

The teasing remarks about his grumbling just made R’wign smile and he batted at M’ta’s nose with his good hand. “Yes, lover, perfect. You act as if my opinion on your backside is a news flash. Honestly.” He rolled his eye before grabbing his weyrmate’s wrist. “I want to check out the toy stall. There’s a little woman that will be most unhappy with us if we don’t get her one of everything – no thank you,” the last comment being directed to the drink; it wasn’t really that thirsty, though it was kind of M’ta to offer, “- and I saw something that I wanted too. Then I need you to help me with picking out weapons, and after that it will be time for lunch I think. But the most important stall has to go first: toys.” He also had a lot of things that he wanted at the other stalls. Specifically, he needed to go to Glasscrafter, Starcrafter, and the contest sign-up sheet. M’ta was participating in the costume contest. He just didn’t know it yet.

“Have you been to any of the stalls yet?” It occurred to him in that moment that he almost never called M’ta by his name. It was always ‘lover’ when they were talking. To other people, sure, but to M’ta directly – always ‘lover’ or some other playful nickname. ‘Brat’ was common (and sharding accurate). But lover was the most frequent one. The thought was triggered more by M’ta’s use of his name – funny how the mind worked. “We should make a shopping list if we’re going to get anything done, and Vex thinks I should enter the talk like a sailor contest. She thinks she’s funny, she does…”

The firelizard on R’wign’s shoulder gave a low chirp in greeting to M’ta. He didn’t gripe, for once, heavily spawned by it being so bloody hot. He was using his wings for shelter, and the offered flask drew his attention. Grouch fluttered his wings before diving onto the flask to shove his head into the top stubbornly, seeking the water within. So hot. So hoooot. But he couldn’t let his out of sight. Bad things happened when he left His. So hot….

[Requiem]

M'ta's hands found R'wign's waist, returning the kiss with a small sound that was suspiciously close to a purr. He watched him withdraw with half-lidded eyes, wrinkling his nose mildly. "Haven't the foggiest, my ass." Nevertheless, there was a definite appreciative gleam to the smaller man's eyes, even if the twirling made him want to laugh and sock his weyrmate in the arm. (The good one, of course.) "Good enough to eat," he commented with a wicked grin. His arms folded over his chest, even as he allowed the mild surprise at his weyrmate's odd behavior out in a raised brow. R'wign usually didn't ask him such things, at least not playfully. There was no sign of doubt in his voice today, though, which pleased M'ta. More than it probably should. Confidence was...attractive. "And come back for seconds."

Snorting softly at the comment on his arse, M'ta actually held his tongue for once. Even if it was very tempting to comment on how R'wign spent enough time looking at it that he should know. He stepped closer to his weyrmate as his wrist was captured, arms unfolding, and cocked his head to one side as his weyrmate began a long line of excited chatter. Was it bad that he was paying more attention to the cheerfulness behind the words than the words themselves? He was just in the process of replacing the stopper in his flask when a firelizard decided to make that difficult on him.

M'ta blinked, tightening his grip on the flask lest he drop it. Geez. "Uh, no, no, I was in the hold making sure everything will be ready for us." He was clearly distracted by the blue trying to shove himself through the much smaller opening of the flask, however. He caught Grouch in his hand, pouring the water over the firelizard's head and back - not too much, but definitely enough to cool the blue off a bit. Casting about, his eyes narrowed on some dishes stacked not far off, and he poured some of the water into a shallow bowl meant probably to hold butter to dip the seafood in. The flask returned to his belt and he cupped the bowl in his palm, loosening his grip on Grouch. "Hot, isn't it?" he murmured to the flit. "Still, no way your head is fitting in my flask."

His eyes came back up to meet R'wign's. "A shopping list, huh? I actually don't need a lot...already took care of clothes." Ha. That was an understatement. "Wanted to get some more of those stars, though. Four's good for a start." But...far too few considering he relied on throwing. Another couple sets should do it. Plus he was thinking about acquiring his own whip and bow, to start practicing with the unfamiliar weapons. "Did you see anything good for Teri at the toy stall? I haven't been there yet." Slipping gracefully toward his weyrmate, M'ta was careful to keep his stride even so as not to dislodge his visitor. He pressed into R'wign's side shamelessly. "Her other toys are getting a bit old." And there weren't many of them, though she didn't seem to mind so much. Her favorite toys were M'ta and R'wign, after all.

[glamourie]

Grouch was a very disgruntled firelizard. Flasks, designed as they were, were not really apt at fitting firelizard heads into the top, even blue flitters who were on the small side as Grouch was. This meant that no matter how hard he tried, the blue could not manage to wedge his head into the flask and he let out an irritated squawk that echoed through the flask. Startled, he leaned his head back, looked at the flask, and then scolded it firmly for squawking at him – how dare it. He relaxed momentarily as M’ta tipped it to dump the water down his back, his anger forgotten as he writhed in the water, grateful for the reprieve from the immense heat. His eyes whirled pleasant shades of blue that, for once, he made no effort to hide, and Grouch wrapped as much of his body around the flask as he could when it came back into range, while fastening his tail around M’ta’s wrist. So nice. Sooo nice. He crooned momentarily before turning his head up toward the brownrider that wasn’t His. The pleasant whirl dissipated before he spat in irritation at M’ta and… launched into scolding that could be heard throughout the entire Gather. Clearly it was M’ta’s fault that his flask was not big enough to accommodate a firelizard head and why did he not get one that was? Why did he have to have a small one? Clearly he wasn’t thinking ahead. Maybe he just liked small things because he was small for a humanthing. Whatever. Unacceptable.

His mindmate had a very amused look on his face – there was no other way to describe the expression that R’wign wore. It was very tempting to make a lewd comment about whether or not M’ta wanted to eat him then and there but he managed to exercise self-control – a feat to be sure; R’wign was usually very … suggestive. He did let a look pass over his weyrmate that could only be described as teasing. Compliments would only get him seconds~ But when they were alone in their weyr. His lover was very shy, silly M’ta. R’wign had no problem publicly making a scene with his affection but he was in the minority there. Besides, it was Southern, not the Weyr. Southern got a touch more respect for putting up with him when he was an emotional nutcase. Not much, but still…

One arm went down to loop around M’ta’s waist and he laid his chin against the shorter man’s head affectionately. “Well, I have a lot to get. I have to get new clothes, mine aren’t fitting properly, and yes, I saw a lot of things that Terilyn will love. They had stuffed starfish, dolphins, the works… wooden mobiles; you could use those for inspiration to learn to make your own. I think she’d have a blast in there. Shame it’s so hot, I’d have loved to show her all of the festivities.” He shook his head and then smiled down at his weyrmate before planting a playful kiss on the top of his head. “I have to get some weapons, too, or I’m going to get beaten up by a disgruntled bronzerider. I can’t keep stealing yours, either. So we have to go there, to the toy stall, weaver stall, I want a new blanket… not that it’ll get much use now, but still… have you ever used a starscope?”

He could just imagine M’ta’s reaction to a starscope. Those were incredibly fun on clear nights. With the humidity and rain, most nights weren’t too great for using one, but he was looking forward to the idea of getting one just the same. Kale would love it, and it’d be something that Terilyn would come to appreciate when she got older, too. Win all around. He needed to get Riaren something too, but… that depended on what Meira bought him…

[Requiem]

"You're very welcome, fussbucket," he commented dryly, by and large ignoring the scolding of the blue firelizard. That was the problem with always complaining, now wasn't it? No one took you seriously. (Course, M'ta could probably use that advice himself, being something of a grump, but the only one who associated with him enough really to become immune to it was R'wign anyway so he didn't much care.)

Stepping into his weyrmate, he only adjusted enough that Grouch wouldn't end up getting squished between them, fitting quite perfectly like this, just under R'wign's chin. M'ta nosed him in a brief show of affection, before listening to the list being rattled off. Wooden mobile? His interest picqued, he wondered if there were any other wooden things he might imitate; he was fairly good at picking out how to make something if he just studied it long enough, yes. Especially now that Eliah was helping him on the odd evening. Speaking of which...R'wign's turnday present was already made, waiting for the right time. The thought made him smile slightly to himself. So his weyrmate didn't like celebrating his turnday? Tough.

Opening his mouth, he closed it again as R'wign plowed on, ending with a question that left M'ta blinking. "What's a starscope?" The name itself was a little self-explanatory, yes, a scope for stars...maybe. Sometimes names that seemed obvious were anything but, so he'd just gotten into the habit of asking. Better to admit ignorance than prove yourself ignorant, or so he tended to believe. The question no doubt answered R'wign's, though, and he quickly tacked on before his weyrmate's excitement could bury anything he might say again, "Don't get too many clothes just yet, R'wign. Would hate to have to come back out here and replace everything again a month later." Not that it was terribly likely, but it could happen, and M'ta was naturally something of a - well, he was stingy really. Came from not having much of anything once upon a time.

"Don't worry too much; I'm sure I'll be just as black and blue as you soon enough," he commented lightly. He was pretty sure wing drills were going to knock him about a fair amount, that he was. Not that he minded so much. He'd been frustrated for awhile now, feeling like he'd more or less plateaued. Such was the nature of self-training with no instruction.

M'ta tugged lightly on R'wign, though he didn't attempt to leave his embrace. Rather, he turned, pressing into his side companionably. "Let's start heading for these stalls, handsome; sounds like you've got the day planned for us." It most certainly did, didn't it?

[glamourie]

“That’s what I thought,” R’wign said, all-knowingly. He wasn’t sure why he’d been able to guess, but something told him that M’ta’s childhood was lacking in a lot of the things that made childhood fun. Toys. Building things. Rough housing with other kids and laughing. Getting scolded by parents for playing in the rain. He knew a fair amount about starscopes due to ships using the stars as navigational tools and it was likely that R’wign could find his way any direction using those and those alone as a result. Because of that, he thought he could make learning about the stars fun for M’ta and he knew that Teri and Riaren would love it when they were old enough to appreciate more than just the glowy specks in the sky. “Starscopes are metal and glass creations; they help you to see long distances. They’re designed to make looking at the stars easier, help you magnify them so you can see them as if you’re closer. They’re fun. The Starcrafter stall will surely have them, I mean, it’s kind of a staple of their craft. I can show you how to use one. They might have constellation charts too…”

The healer cocked his head to the side and clicked his tongue slightly before tightening his arm around M’ta’s torso – just a slight squeeze of affection. It was firm without being rough. In all honesty, he was in bliss; he really liked just touching. It didn’t have to have ulterior motives. Just gentle touching – reassurance that he was there. R’wign was a very physical entity, after all. He couldn’t have been much happier in that moment.

“I need to go through the clothes I have. Almost none of them fit the way that I like anymore,” he lamented with a soft sigh. “You’re probably right though. It’ll be weird to have so much space in my trunk…” Although it was mostly filled with blankets, R’wign did have an alarming amount of clothes – enough to cloth half the Weyr if he were to be totally honest. He just kept buying more without going through the old clothes. It was a bad habit, to be sure, but R’wign was trying to get better. Having to share living space with someone who didn’t have a lot of furniture meant he had to actually, you know, conserve space. Hmpf. “Which stall do you want to go to first, though? We can go to different ones. Whichever sounds most appealing to you. Weapons should probably be last since I’m sure that they’ll be heavy to carry around. Have you eaten…?”

He didn’t comment on whether or not M’ta would be as black and blue as him because it didn’t bear remarking on. Frankly, it was obvious that the two of them would both be getting walloped on, but M’ta was a much better fighter than him: he’d probably be able to actually land hits if he tried. R’wign was still proud of the one time he’d managed to punch Ka’rys in the shoulder, even though he was pretty sure it was only because he surprised the bronzerider, not a tribute to his actual skill. Silly, but he took a lot of pride in that fact regardless.

His head inclined downwards as Grouch’s scolding subsided and the flitter climbed up to sit on M’ta’s shoulder closest to R’wign. The position put him quite nearly against His and his stolen human-slave; he found this satisfying. His tail actually snaked over to wind around R’wign’s arm as much as possible and the firelizard, now shaded by his two human minions, gave a low chirp before flashing images of the food stalls. He wanted to try out some of the delicious smelling yums, yes yes. Did he get a vote? He better have. Fools.

[Requiem]

For looking at stars. Kind of what he'd thought. M'ta remembered the cold crisp of autumn, beneath the open stars, staring up and wondering if the people cut off from them by the early snowstorms that clogged the passes could see the same stars. It helped him to not feel alone, during the turns when the burden of leadership had fallen upon him heavily. Just a child. That was the thing, though...no matter how much you'd been a part of the group, a friend, a compatriot...the moment it fell to you to lead it you weren't part of it anymore. Not really. So lonesome, those turns. More lonesome than in the turns after. He hadn't felt the need to stare at the stars for a long, long time. "You know some of the star clusters?" he asked his weyrmate quietly. That interested him, yes. He should like to know what they were called.

He couldn't help but chuckle at R'wign's whine, though. "I seem to distinctly remember a certain brownrider asking me why I was annoyed to be growing again," he commented teasingly. "That's what happens when you change sizes, handsome." For the better, too, in M'ta's not-so-humble opinion. It might have been a little weird, especially considering who it was coming from, but he liked his weyrmate being stronger than he was. Yes. No, R'wign couldn't physically protect him from much (and M'ta would be more upset if he tried, to be quite honest) but the illusion was...soothing. In its fashion. He'd always felt safe on a personal level with the other man, but now he felt safe in other ways, too, lying in his arms at night.

R'wign's question drew a thoughtful hum from M'ta. He really didn't have a preference as to where they went first, if he was truly honest, and Grouch's movements drew his attention before he could answer, anyway. As the blue wound his tail around R'wign's arm, M'ta couldn't help but smirk slightly. "Determined to be touching both of us at once, are you?" He lowered his voice. "Don't worry...I won't be telling anyone how much you actually like us, fussbucket." Food. He glanced up at R'wign and shrugged his other shoulder slightly. "Looks like the lord of the manor has spoken. I'm a bit hungry though...yes."

He started in the direction of the good smells, threading an arm around R'wign's waist. (Apparently he'd very much forgotten that he'd been concealing just who - or what sex, really - he was getting joined to from the holders.) "I'd like to go to the toy stall after this and see what we can get for Teri, if you don't mind." It would be rather a shame if they left it until last and didn't get a chance to properly spoil her. Little girls grew up, and once that happened they became more interested in little boys and avoided their caretakers entirely. Best to take advantage of it while the time was ripe, no?

[glamourie]

He knew a lot of the constellations, actually. Probably too many. It was weird to think of his childhood – he hated fishing so much, and it really was an element of that – but the things that he normally got hissy and huffy over with other people seemed to matter a lot less with M’ta; he was content to talk about things that usually made him angry, like showing his weyrmate how to fish properly, talking about sailing and beaches… it was very unusual, but nice in its own way, too. Thinking about it just had him questioning though – maybe talking to M’ta was therapeutic in more than one way; he certainly didn’t think of his past quite so harshly. Though, how much of that was him growing up was also difficult to deduce. Was he becoming an adult, was that what was making him look back on his childhood without so much scorn? Difficult to say. He still wasn’t a fishing soul and never would be, but it only bothered him to discuss those elements with people who weren’t M’ta. Strange, but true.

“I know the names of the constellations, of the stars, and where a lot of them are at different times of the Turn. I’m rusty though, I haven’t had to use the stars as a navigational tool since I was a child.” He shrugged but smiled, despite himself. “But yes, I know the name of clusters of stars. We’ll get you a starscope, and I’ll tell you how sailors use them to navigate the sea at night, what each of them is named – provided I can remember – and what some of the constellations are. I don’t really know what ones are common here for Selenitas though because the patterns of Nerat and Selenitas would be different but we can learn together. And teach Teri.”

But food first. Grouch had spoken. R’wign glanced at the firelizard who gave M’ta a very unpleasant look before launching into a full-on tirade that could only be described as a tantrum. He was not fond of them. They were just silly humanlings who needed his guidance, how dare this presumptuous one think otherwise, didn’t he realize how supremely dumb he was? Grouch ruffled his wings and then, pointedly, leaned over to bite the side of M’ta’s ear, as if to prove a point. So not fond of. (But Grouch did not release his strangle hold on R’wign’s arm – he was determined to be touching them both at all times, with special emphasis on His; he worried very much about him.)

“If I don’t mind. Right. Since when are you so accommodating?” the healer teased (ignoring his fussing firelizard – M’ta was so bringing it on himself). “We can get food first though. It’s mostly seafood, though, and I’m not a big seafood eater.” Not that his eating habits were anything foreign to M’ta, who doubtlessly knew that he ate almost no seafood if it could be helped. There were other things, though – “Are you going to throw a positive hissy-fit, lover, if I decide to have a bubbly pie?” It was a Gather and if he went without one he’d be most unhappy. His intention was, currently, to get some of the twisted dough, some cold wine, and then possibly some soup. Possibly. He’d more likely not be hungry after M’ta ordered, though. Seafood turned him off eating entirely.

“We’re going to spoil her so much. Speaking of, we need to get her finery so that she looks her best for our joining. She’ll never forgive us when she’s old enough to understand if we take her and she isn’t the most beautiful of all the women there by leaps and bounds.” The healer allowed himself an indulging eye roll before hugging M’ta closer. “I’m thinking definitely one of every doll type…”

[Requiem]

Using the stars to navigate? He'd heard of it, yes, but had never really understood how anyone could do that. Sure, they weren't evenly spaced and everything, but there was so many of them that it seemed impossible to pick any one out, yet alone catalogue them all and use them like that. (Though it could be a very useful tool, and not just for sailors. One Ka'rys might even find handy, given the things they'd been doing thus far.) "I'm sure you'll remember most of it just fine." He was a healer, for Faranth's sake. Healers weren't successful if they didn't have a good memory, and there was no arguing that R'wign was an excellent healer.

M'ta, too, mostly ignored Grouch beyond a small chuckle. He was more than used to having his ears used as a chewtoy, either by Grouch or Grouch's erstwhile owner. (Albeit the latter was distinctly more pleasant. Sharp teeth were sharp.) The blue was getting what he wanted in droves, after all: contact with both men and food. The rest of the fuss was just for show.

Wrinkling his nose slightly at R'wign's words, he exhaled lightly. "I can be quite accomodating if you just handle me properly," he replied loftily. Though he wasn't even sure what exactly he meant to imply by that. The smaller man glanced up at him and rolled his eyes. Really? He nudged him with an elbow as best as he was able pressed against his side. "Stop making me out to be completely unreasonable, handsome. Of course you can have a bubbly pie without my throwing a fit. I just worry about the health of my weyrmate, as you well know, and you have a definite sweet tooth." What he didn't mention was the sheer amount of disturbing material he'd turned up in his ongoing efforts to fully understand this condition R'wign had. It was...a good deal more serious than the Weyrhealer had led him to believe, and utterly incurable. M'ta wasn't too worried, though, for the simple reason that if anyone should know how to take care of himself it would be R'wign. He just...had some habits that were better monitored, yes.

"Anyway, it's not entirely seafood, and you can't use that as an excuse to just fill up on dessert. The spices in that stew smell wonderful." Yes, M'ta cared more about what went with the meat than the meat itself. Spices, vegetables, and especially peppers. He had some rather odd tastes, certainly, but for now they were leaning toward the dishes that didn't incorporate seafood. (He wasn't very fond of cream soups at all, and steamed seafood was, by and large, quite tasteless. Tch.)

Any grumbling at his weyrmate vanished at mention of their joining, however - as it always did. M'ta wasn't sure why it always made him feel almost purry. For one, he had yet to fully understand what a joining was. It had some sort of meaning beyond the simplified one he understood, but nevertheless, he couldn't help but feel the fluttering in his stomach at the thought that his weyrmate wanted things to remain as they were just as much as he did. M'ta...couldn't imagine a life without R'wign in it. Shards, he'd had enough trouble with the prospect of one day becoming two. "Okay, but no old ladies. We'll find nice younger people to do it. And do you really think that a child raised by two men is likely to be that into dolls?" he added teasingly. Mostly just to see what reaction he got.

[glamourie]

“You overestimate my memory,” R’wign replied drolly. Truthfully, he was unsure more because of his undying hatred for all things fishing than anything else… though it had been well over ten turns since he’d used the stars as anything more than something pretty to look at in the night. Weird to think that he hadn’t seen his mother and father in turns. The thought was disquieting, even. He didn’t comment further though – namely because he saw it as a silly thing to bicker about. He was sure he’d remember enough star clusters to keep M’ta entertained and that was good enough for him. It wasn’t like he needed to travel by stars any time soon – although, he supposed in theory it was a good way to travel between, too. Hn.

His head cocked to the side and he watched Grouch hang from his weyrmate’s ear with a bemused grin. He knew very well that Grouch was fond of M’ta – perhaps too fond of him, in fact. Of R’wign’s pets, it was Grouch who liked his weyrmate the best. (Grumpy did not like much of anyone, including R’wign, and continually seemed to find that he was underloved – constantly did the youngest of R’wign’s flitters gripe about having to share Ellie with others and R’wign was positive that the firelizard picked him for Elegance and Elegance alone.) Stumpy was nearly a permanent Meira attachment (the blue did so love her), and Ellie was loyal to R’wign above and beyond all else – no matter how fond she may have been of others, her first priority was to Hers. Grouch… seemed to mirror R’wign’s affections, but express them in uniquely Grouch ways. Vex was neutral for the most part. Actually, R’wign was surprised by how neutral she was. It was plainly obvious (to him) that she’d picked PMS because of his influence. He didn’t feel guilty. She didn’t mind all that much either.

Tearing his eyes away from the firelizard, R’wign moved his hand around M’ta to stroke his upper arm and tug him closer at the same time. “You’re very over protective, gorgeous, you know that as well as I do.” He was undeniably amused. “And you’re the one who is into heavy spices. I’m really not that picky of an eater if it isn’t seafood.” He wasn’t, either. R’wign was happy enough to eat whatever was thrown at him. Yes, he did have a sweet tooth, though, particularly where pies were concerned (he wasn’t all that fond of cakes). “I’ll probably just get some fruit or something though. I don’t like the smells here and they’re kind of killing my appetite.” His mother made the best seafood on Pern. Period. No competition, not even slightly. He’d probably eat seafood if she made it, too.

R’wign casually tugged M’ta toward one of the least crowded stalls, turning around to half-look at the other brownrider as he walked. His fingers laced together with M’ta’s to haul him around, undoubtedly overly affectionate. But could he be faulted? He was happy, after all.

“I think a daughter of ours would do virtually anything to make us uncomfortable, including but not limited to playing with dolls, collecting boyfriends, and asking us how two men make babies,” he purred, undeniably pleased with himself. “And I will forward all these awkward questions, my love, to you, and let you answer them as I watch with a very amused expression.” He nodded emphatically before pulling M’ta close again – right in line at one of the stalls. Who cared. He kissed his weyrmate enthusiastically and turned around before gesturing in front of himself, “So what’re you ordering?”

[Requiem]

"Perhaps," was M'ta's only response, not really caring if he overestimated R'wign's ability to remember or not. The man could read (better than M'ta, obviously) and there were charts to fill in the gaps. So, as far as the younger man was concerned, quibbling over it was more fruitless than the vast majority of their little picking non-arguments. (Not to be confused with actual arguments, which usually resulted in a R'wign in unusual places - like out in the hall or in the bathing rooms.)

His eyes narrowed slightly at R'wign's comment. "I'm pretty sure I'm just the right amount of protective, thank you very much." A bald-faced lie, and one he didn't even try to maintain. So he worried a bit much. Or a lot much. It wasn't anything likely to change, so why bother trying? At best he'd just be silently overprotective and make a nuisance of himself by shadowing people. Which was a good deal creepier, he should think.

M'ta made a soft mrring sound, refraining from saying anything because R'wign had said he was going to eat, after all, and nagging at him was unnecessary. He didn't mind carrying his weyrmate around, no, but the heat and the press of people would be problematic. (Another example of being overprotective and a worrywart. As if you needed to look for them.) His face screwed up at R'wign's list of things, finding the collecting boyfriends one to be the most bothersome. She was a baby. No collecting of boyfriends. Not until she was at least thirty. And if R'wign disagreed, too sharding bad, he'd just said it was up to M'ta, so ha.

He squeaked softly, returning the kiss after the surprise faded, no more caring about any onlookers than R'wign. There was absolutely no point in trying to dissuade the healer from public displays, so M'ta had long since gotten used to it. "No boyfriends until thirty if you let me decide," he began, poking his nose, then glancing toward the stall. "And I don't know, probably something light. And preferably not bland." Hated bland food. Hated food that made him feel bloated. So yeah, okay, he was a bit picky, wasn't he? "No boyfriends until thirty, men don't make babies by ourselves and...dolls are okay. There, problems solved." He grinned at R'wign.

[glamourie]

Just… the right… R’wign had to bite back a half-giggle in response to that, the sound dying in his throat but his amusement entirely too plain on his face. Oh yes. And he had ‘just enough’ of a sweet tooth. The healer rolled his eye but did not argue further, primarily because his weyrmate knew very well that he was over-protective, as indicated by the look on his face. R’wign didn’t see a reason to keep smearing it in his face. So he settled for rocking on his toes and looking back over his shoulder at the stall in interest. He didn’t really want to eat first. In fact, R’wign really was looking forward to shopping – he had so many things he wanted to buy and he could just imagine his weyrmate’s response to, and it was exciting to him. Gathers always put the healer into a ridiculously giddy mood though. It was like a permanent euphoria. Giggly, giddy bliss.

“I can just see that, you trying to tell our little girl that she can’t date until thirty… and her getting her first boyfriend at, oh, five. And you being incredibly frustrated at your inability to make them stay away. Yes, this I can see just perfectly.” R’wign nodded and backed up in the line as the people around them started to shuffle away, their food acquired. No doubt the patrons of the stall were oblivious to the flirting pair of brownriders behind them; at a Gather, it was rare for anyone to care about anything other than themselves and their companions, and R’wign’s current behavior only drove that point home. He really had forgotten that he was at a Hold, where most people were not accustomed to two men being in a relationship. Not that it would’ve mattered. M’ta was more important to him than anyone else (perhaps exempting his children) and he was incredibly happy to be spending time with him. Silly, perhaps, but true. And R’wign was silly frequently.

Putting on his best female voice, R’wign flailed his arms at his sides (though he was quite careful not to hit anyone around him) and said, “‘Papa, why won’t mama let me date? Whyyyy? Why’s he gotta be so over-protective? Can you talk to him, please, please?’ – Oh, she’s so going to love me more than you, just wait and see. She’s going to be a daddy’s girl.” Yes, R’wign knew how much it annoyed M’ta that he’d taught their daughter to call him ‘mamama’ but R’wign couldn’t help himself. Anyway he’d accidentally taught her that he was ‘Roo’ though where that sound came from was anyone’s guess – it wasn’t like there was a ‘Roo’ in his name anywhere. But ‘Roo’ was still better than mama. He also knew very well that Terilyn seemed to prefer M’ta over him – he’d noticed it, even if his weyrmate hadn’t. He was teasing anyway. When it came to closeness, R’wign was, unfortunately, much closer to Riaren than Teri, despite seeing her more often. He loved them both unfailingly, but Riaren… had his eyes, his hair… it was hard not to bond with him.

Another group of people moved out from in front of them and R’wign turned on his toe to look across the counter at the stallkeeper. He tapped the top of the counter curiously before indicating the pirate mead. “I’ll take that,” he said with a slight nod, then glanced at M’ta without speaking. He intended to just sneak bites of whatever his weyrmate ordered; it’d be easier than trying to find something at the plethora of food stalls that sold only seafood. He’d seen something about roast wherry – so maybe he’d get some of that later. Perhaps.

The firelizard between them tilted his head to the side and flashed the pair of males the steamed oysters before chirping pleasantly. Wanted, he did. Grouch wasn’t at all shy about it either. Hand it over, chumps.

[Requiem]

He shot a glare with absolutely no real ire behind it at R'wign's half-snicker, tempted to elbow him for the eyeroll, though since the healer elected not to comment (a rare enough occurrence, since he seemed to have a comment for everything) M'ta settled for huffing softly.

His eyebrows lifted clear to his hairline as his weyrmate began that ridiculous little arm flail and the pitch of his voice raised to heights that made M'ta seriously consider knocking his head into the nearest hard object to see if the ringing would drown it out. He winced slightly. Never much of a one to enjoy high-pitched voices (he wasn't sure about the reason behind that, and for once he didn't care to analyze it because it simply wasn't important) M'ta wrinkled his nose at R'wign. "I hope to Faranth Teri never sounds like that. Though if she did, she wouldn't have to worry about me being overprotective; no guy would come within a hundred yards of her. Tch." An amused gleam had come to his eyes, and he merely allowed himself a smirk at R'wign's claim that he'd be better loved. If Teri decided to change who she favored, M'ta still wouldn't care. Why would he begrudge his weyrmate the love of their daughter, really? He flicked his weyrmate on the arm. "You'd best start spoiling her, Roo, if you plan to keep her all to yourself."

He waited for R'wign to order, sneaking a glance at the ever-present and ever-demanding blue flit sending images his way like some sort of tiny lordling. "Apparently I'm getting steamed oysters for the grumpy menace," he commented drolly. He glanced over what they were offering, then shrugged a shoulder. "And wherry and steamed vegetables, if you don't mind." Half-turning away from the stall as the food was gathered, he took another sip of his water, swirling it around his mouth a moment before swallowing. People didn't know how to keep themselves hydrated in this heat, strangely.

"Add fruit to that, will you?" A brow rose, half-questioning, at R'wign. "Last I checked mead isn't fruit. But hey, you're the healer, maybe I'm just nuts." He slid up against R'wign's side briefly before sliding marks over...hah, he got to that one first. M'ta was tempted to stick out his tongue, but instead just settled on looking ever so smug.

[glamourie]

“I decided to just eat off of your plate,” R’wign corrected with a shrug. “I’m not going to be able to eat much in this heat, so I didn’t want to order anything extra.” It was as honest as he was going to get. If M’ta was insistent on shoving fruit at him, he’d eat some, but he didn’t really think he’d enjoy it – it was hard to enjoy food when he felt like he was going to vomit at any moment. He tried, but R’wign wasn’t fool enough to pretend that he was able to eat out in the heat. His tolerance was very high but when he got overheated, he just… lost his appetite and will to do much other than sleep. Being outside in the sun had that effect. Fortunately, he wasn’t too badly overdressed (even if he did prefer to be naked). “You know the more you indulge him, the more he just makes demands. He’s kind of like you in that regard. Really stubborn and bratty. Can’t imagine why I like him so much…” R’wign glanced at Grouch as he spoke and got a quick chirp for his trouble. Not at all like him. “He’s probably hungry though, he tends to let the others eat first then take whatever is left over. I’d say it’s chivalrous, but really, he doesn’t like fighting for space.”

R’wign did not comment on M’ta’s teasing; he knew very well that he wasn’t very good at female voices and anyway, R’wign was sure that she’d be incredibly popular. It wasn’t even a matter of “if” to him, and he thought if M’ta really believed he could chase away all prospective boyfriends, his lovely weyrmate was being naïve. Odds were, Teri would just keep them away from her parents, if she was smart… and she was. That was a fair way off, though, and R’wign was savoring the time they had where all it took to make Teri happy was to fly around the canyon on Checkoth’s back. Those days were numbered and would be coming to an end soon enough – but they were enjoyable for the moment. Peaceful family relations. She’d probably come to really resent him when she became a teenager. Most kids did. Sigh.

“You know, they say oysters are aphrodisiacs,” R’wign added almost a little too slyly. He hadn’t forgotten his plot to get M’ta involved in at least one of the costumes – and he also intended to haul his weyrmate to the dancing square. Ever since he made it clear he was interested in dancing, R’wign had been practicing (in private) in hopes of impressing him. He wasn’t very good but at least he didn’t step on people’s feet; R’wign thought that was quite the accomplishment, all-in-all. “I think I should start feeding them to you. Though, you really don’t need any help there.” He didn’t comment on M’ta paying; he’d just get him back by buying the stargazer that he was pretty close to positive that M’ta would love playing with. Even footing as far as he was concerned. Silly brownrider – did he really think he could one-up him? Really?

The smell of seafood hit him at once and R’wign made a face before gesturing at M’ta. “I’m going to usurp a table,” he announced before sauntering off – much to Grouch’s evident disdain; the blue scolded after His, but never quite left M’ta’s shoulder, obviously most anxious to try some of the tasty yummies coming his way. He could let His know how unhappy with him he was once they sat down. This one rarely ventured too far away from His for very long.