happiness has a violent roar. [open]

[glamourie]

R’wign visibly winced at Emoyan, obviously sympathetic. Having a whole mess of firelizards meant he spent a great deal of time trying to ‘clean up’ after them and keep them out of trouble – especially Roxie, who couldn’t land at all, despite being grown up. She periodically had success but mostly the green just had head-on collisions. It was extremely frustrating. He hadn’t really meant ‘meaner’ as… an insult, not really. Most salamandyrs hated firelizards, so he naturally disregarded them. Maybe that was arrogance? There was a reason he had the nickname ‘The Firelizard Whisperer’ – even those who didn’t look to him usually liked him. The only exception that he knew of was Ras, and he was glad the obnoxious green that looked to an equally-obnoxious goldrider did not like him. Ellie probably would have had fits. The gold didn’t dislike many firelizards (the number count was one actually) but Ras was enough to send her into fits. Though, Ellie didn’t like salamandyrs much better than R’wign did. If he were to be totally honest, he’d probably turned his sweet little queen against them though – or she turned him against them. Whatever.

“Ellie likes browns,” the healer helpfully commented, and Ellie chirped approvingly to show that he was correct. “She favors them over she does bronzes, actually. She adores Hazard.” The brown in question was busily watching Emoyan and waiting for more stories, his tail swishing about behind him anxiously. “I don’t think I could handle a salamandyr – they’re… well… they’re salamandyrs. I deal with Lust too often to like them very much. Showoff’s not exactly a step up, either, and K’lir and I have been friends for turns—bite your tongue.” The last comment was directed to Mimic and R’wign crinkled his nose disapprovingly to the salamandyr. “I don’t want her near me. Mindhealers aren’t even real healers – they’re what healers become when they can’t display competence at anything else.” R’wign? Judgmental? No way. (He’d always resented mindhealing being qualified as a craft because typically they did what people’s friends did better – and R’wign didn’t approve of people getting marks for that.)

Half-under his leg, Stumpy watched Mimic, squirming awkwardly. His eyes were whirling rapid, panicked shades, and he chirruped weakly. As soon as Riaren was passed off to Emoyan, the blue firelizard squirmed into his mindmate’s lap. His wings gave a wide twitch and he wiggled back against R’wign’s stomach, seeking reassurance. The offered crumb was eyed curiously before he tilted his head up toward R’wign, who brought one hand down to rub Stumpy’s head. That one touch was almost magical; the firelizard squeaked and butted R’wign’s hand happily, practically glowing in glee. His was paying attention to him, His was paying attention to him, SO HAPPY!!

The baby, puzzled, watched Mimic and Stumpy interact with wide, dark green eyes. He wiggled in Emoyan’s arms and blinked as he was offered something strange to suck on. His head tilted to the side and he made an odd face at the taste of the jerky before jerking his head away and cooing quietly. His little tongue stuck out, to keep the food from coming back into his mouth, and he looked up at the candidate master with distinct confusion on his face. That was not yummy. It tasted funny! “Baaaabaabaaa?” the baby inquired curiously, holding one hand out toward Emoyan’s face. The bemusement vanished, quickly transforming into a wide smile. He was a very friendly child, and his daddy liked this one okay so he must’ve been okay~

R’wign retrieved the knife from the ground and reached up to cut through his hair, a slight smirk flashing over his face. “I don’t think he likes jerky. To be fair, though, he’s on an all-liquid diet, so he’s probably confused,” he said with laughter in his voice. “Thanks for holding him – Mimic, what are you doing?” R’wign crinkled his nose as some more of the black strands went tumbling to the ground. From elbow length to shorter than shoulder – it was definitely a difference. The back was cut very short, and he took his time watching the salamandyr and firelizard in interest. He sheared the back to shorter than an inch, using Checkoth to make sure that it was mostly even. It didn’t have to be exact, though R’wign was very good at judging lengths. When he pulled the knife away, the back was close enough to exact that most people would think it was right. Multiple eyes to see the back of his head was convenient, if disorienting. He had to lower the blade to avoid accidentally cutting himself from being so disoriented.

Stumpy chirped, looking at Mimic anxiously, and he squirmed backwards to climb against R’wign’s chest. His eyes whirled nervously and he fluted, obviously unsure. The worm was mad at him, wasn’t it…?

[dragon]

Emoyan nodded a bit. "I noticed that a lot of draconics prefer browns. I wonder if bronze creatures will ever take the hint and act accordingly?" He mused, somewhat jokingly. Maybe it was just what he was there to notice, he wasn't sure. But greens and golds both seemed to prefer the solid brown personalities over the arrogant bronzes or flighty, silly blues. And it wasn't limited to just one kind of draconic or another, either. At least, not so far as Emoyan had been able to determine. Not that he spent all that much time paying that much attention to the socializing habits of the Weyr's compliment. He could only truthfully and consistently attest to that of his own lot. And not always on that score, either. Sometimes he had no idea what ever they were getting into.

The comment about mindhealers made Emoyan look up, though. "Oh, is that how one qualifies for that job?" He asked, amused. "I wondered." Thankfully ... no one had sicked any of those people on him ... something that could have very well happened, and he was eternally grateful hadn't. He'd never had any direct interactions with any of that ilk, and had no plans to start. Frankly, mindhealers bothered Emoyan, and he was never sure what motives they had, and just exactly what their end result was. Of course, after being bonded to first a dragon and then later a 'mandyr, he was always suspicious of what the minds of a mindhealer was actually capable of. Even if the notion was absurd. Hey, there were HADs, sprinkled here and there. Who was to say that mindhealers weren't hears-all-peoples, or alters-all-peoples? Paranoid? A bit ...

"Well, hello." Emoyan answered, when Rairen started talking after his fashion. "You don't like that, huh? Well, let's see what else I have that you might like... I'm afraid I don't really have much else." Wrapping his forearms around the kid, he started tearing up the slobbered-on jerky and offering bits of it to various flitters, trying to get some to each that was within arms reach. Hopefully to forestall arguments over who got and who didn't, now that he was doling out treats. Roxie got the first piece, of course, as she was closest. "There ya go, missie."

The stubb end of the jerky went back into his pocket, before he shifted his weight from one cheek to the other to reach into the other pocket. "Not on solids yet, huh? When do kids start eating solids, anyway?" Emoyan asked, genuinely curious. He'd never tried to raise a kid ... as far as he was aware he didn't even have any. Partly due to his own lackadaisical pursuit of ladies, and Kindrith's epic fail-ness at scoring any himself. Not lady-magnets, either of them, clearly. "Has he showed any interest at all in tasting foods, even if he doesn't eat them?" He wasn't sure, but some kids did that... not that he was an expert or anything.

Nothing was found in the other pocket, food-wise, but he did find something else in there that he'd entirely forgotten was in there. He pulled out the bit of soft wood before settling back to sit squarely, kid in lap. The wood was handed over to Rairen, half-shaped into something that was vaguely runner-shaped, all the legs still stuck together in a solid lump. The tail and head-neck regions were vaguely shaped. Clearly, it was an idle whittle-project that was no where near done yet, as its ears were even still stuck together as a ridge across the top of the head. "There, you like that?" Emoyan asked, of the babe. "It's not done, yet, but ... I haven't exactly had an abundance of time to work on it." He explained, before grinning at R'wign. "Skink keeps running off with all my paperweights." He explained. "Every week, I have to make a new one. Unfortunately, I don't like ugly lumps of crud on my desk ..." He shrugged a bit. It just meant that idle moments were spent carving new lumps into shapes. Some of them got finished, some didn't. He did have to wonder who all was getting all of his carvings, though...

Emoyan gestured slightly at R'wign in general. "What prompted the choice in style?" he asked. It was certainly different. He was pretty sure none of the other Riders wore their hair like that. Emoyan, himself, even though he didn't Ride anymore, kept his own hair pretty short all over. Mostly so he didn't have to mess with it or worry about it. Longer hair was a pain in the ass to take care of... and he just didn't have inclination or time.

[Avu]

He wasn’t – he wasn’t still upset, was he? Mimic deflated visibly. It was almost comical. One instant the Salamandyr was upright on his hind legs, head tilted to one side hopefully, eyes bright and forepaws holding out the small piece of meat like an olive branch, and the next, his entire body drooped. The Salamandyr made a clicking noise in his throat before he chrrrrred and settled onto all fours. His frill flattened, tail curling around his legs; the piece of jerky was put into his mouth for safekeeping, but he didn’t actually eat it. No, it tasted so good but he was very much sulking, was Mimic. The Salamandyr liked it when people liked him and not just people; dragons and other Salamandyrs and firelizards were included in that (he had yet to meet a wher, but in all likelihood Mimic would want to be liked by them too). On the flip side, it made him sad when he wasn’t liked. Maybe he’d just go retrieve his rock (it hadn’t dropped, had it!?) and sulk to himself until His could…

Squeak.

He blinked, tilting his head in a jerky motion that was almost birdlike to look up at R’wign before he frilled anxiously. What – what? The prettykeeper didn’t like the happyfixer? But a happyfixer was good. They made people happy and happy was good. He liked it so much better when people around him were happy; didn’t the prettykeeper…? The Salamandyr’s head turned at Emoyan’s additional comment and he slicked back his frill before he commented quietly, Happyfixer – not like? Sad sad, happyfixer make better, not like? He didn’t understand why. A happyfixer was like – like a subcategory of fixers, weren’t they? And all fixers were good. Because they made things better, made hurts go away. Real hurts and sad hurts both counted as hurts, didn’t they? Confused and still upset, the brown turned in a tight circle before he dropped the crumb of jerky onto the ground again, nudging it towards Stumpy with his nose before he turned back to Riaren and Emoyan.

A quick scurry; a leap. The two motions had Mimic sailing neatly onto Riaren again to curl up around the babe’s wrist. His tongue flicked out to touch the pale wrist affectionately, but otherwise Mimic was perfectly happy to be ignored; he was sad and he’d rather be sad by himself than make Riaren sad too. The little rock he’d found for Doppelganger was spotted on the carpet and Mimic made a mental note to grab it before they left; he was for the moment too depressed to grab it but he certainly wouldn’t go back to his favorite eggbrother without it. At least one creature that was not His would be sure to accept his gift. Sigh.

[glamourie]

“Browns are the best,” R’wign said pleasantly; he wasn’t biased or anything, no, never. All aside, R’wign really had little use for most bronze creatures. His experiences with them were generally not good. Examples: Showoff (who tried to eat Ellie’s eggs), Lust (who was irritating beyond words), and Aberath (who tore up his chest with his claws right after hatching). He preferred browns; Checkoth was arguably the sweetest creature he’d ever encountered, and Hazard was extremely kind too. Not that Crash wasn’t sweet as well; the bronze firelizard was unusual in many ways, though, and judging anything based on him was inaccurate. When it came on a ratio, he couldn’t think of any color creature he liked more than browns – Behruth was a good example, after all. Behruth, Jermaysk, Hazard, Checkoth, even Mimic himself on some levels. “Right Mimic? Browns are the best.” He didn’t really have a problem with blues though. Stumpy and Grouch were adorable, in their own ways. Bronzes… annoyed him. Especially Lust, actually. Hard to forgive the bronze who was the biggest irritant to him anymore.

Somehow, R’wign doubted that bronzes would ever change their behavior though. He couldn’t imagine Lust changing, anyway. Obnoxious twit.

Carefully messing with his hair, R’wign crinkled his nose. His gaze flicked to his firelizards, watching the green snap up her snack pleasantly. She flicked her tail and then glided back to Checkoth, obviously satisfied at having her treat. The dark green eye lingered on Riaren, who looked up at Emoyan and lifted one hand toward the man’s jaw curiously. His face broke into a smile but he didn’t ‘speak’ again; he made enough of a point to get the nasty away from his face. Wiggling, he relaxed, his other hand going over to pet Mimic lovingly. Pet, pet, pet. He was oblivious to the salamandyr’s upset, else he probably would have tried to cheer him up. His focus was divided evenly between Mimic and Emoyan, and he squirmed contentedly with a wide, gummy smile; so fun~

“He probably won’t eat solids for a few more months. I think most venture off of formula around a turn old? I don’t know – he’s my first,” R’wign explained with a slight shrug. “He tries to eat anything that I’m eating; I’ve let him suck some pie filling off my fingers when he’s particularly good. To be fair, I think the jerky just surprised him because it’s usually salty, and he’s not typically given salty foods. That’s the most noise I’ve seen him make though. Gentle, Riaren – be gentle with Mimic.” The baby was being gentle, though. His gaze turned toward Mimic, and he said softly, “Don’t you sulk. Stumpy’s fine, little one. And I don’t like mindhealers, no. ‘Happyfixers’ as you put it are just fixers who can’t fix properly. And I am a very good fixer. So is your mindmate. We work harder to be fixers than happyfixers do. You get it?”

The offered wood distracted Riaren, who held one hand out toward it with a smile. His head tilted to the side and he cooed up at it; he knew what those things were, he saw things like that regularly, the unfinished wood, and he liked them. Usually with the one who was always with papa. Squirming anxiously, Riaren seized the unfinished runner carving and pulled it up toward his chest, then held it out for Mimic to look at. Did mama’s pet like it? He liked it; it was nice, it was. He did so like the hard toys to play with. He wanted more!

“She can hold them? I’m impressed. Most salamandyrs can’t lift anything heavy,” R’wign said as he rubbed his nose and put down the knife to brush away any stray strands of hair. “Hm? My hair? I wanted it shorter, but my weyrmate likes it long; this is a compromise. I also think it looks better longer around my face. Shorter makes me look really strange, and brings out how defined my cheekbones are. If you don’t want that drooled on, you might wanna grab it – M’ta whittles, and he loves to suck on anything he can get his hands on. It either goes in his mouth or up his nose.”

[dragon]

Emoyan took Rairen under the arms and set him up more properly so he could play better with the wooden toy runner better, and be less liable to smack himself in the eye with it. "Huh. I thought kids started tasting stuff at a few months of age. I dunno ... anyway, I never claimed to know a thing about young kids. Especially at this age." He laughed a bit. "Since you have one, I assume you'd know about these things." Emoyan conceded. "I think I have my hands full dealing with the older ones. They certainly know how to eat, that's for sure." No doubt... lately all his attempts at classes had been turned into picnics in the classroom. At first it had been the candidates themselves bringing stuff ... eventually he'd gotten the hint. Obviously food was a lure, and if there was going to be such, he might as well make sure it was good for them. Not to say he was against the occasional basket of cookies, mind.

"I prefer salt jerk, myself. But that's actually honey jerk. Rascal likes it better. I guess flitters don't much care for salt? I don't know ... maybe it's just Rascal." He shrugged, holding Rairen up with one forearm as he continued to tear bits of jerky apart. The flitters didn't seem to be terribly interested in it anymore, but that was ok. He'd find someone to give it to eventually. Rascal or Skink, or some other lucky creature.

"To be honest? I have no idea how she's managing to move them. I haven't caught her at it yet." Emoyan admitted. "For all I know, she's getting one of her pet brown flitter to move it, or between her and that twin of hers. I really don't know. But I do know it's her doing it. She gloats about it, the little monster. The fastest way to get her to fess up to something is to pretend it never happened." He smiled crookedly. It hadn't taken him long to figure out his own little menace. She didn't want to be caught doing it, but once it was done, she wanted to watch people fret over it. Ignoring it frustrated her more than anything else. And assuming that people were to dense to even notice it, she would do one of two things: up the ante, or point it out. Either way, it was clear who did it.

[Avu]

Browns…were the best?

Mimic’s quiet chirp made it clear that he was not entirely against such an idea, but he was still too upset to be excessively enthusiastic. Besides, Jingth had made it very clear that he was her slave (not that he objected). And he wouldn’t be a slave if he was the best, would he? No no. Clearly R’wign was mistaken. Golds were the best, because Jingth said so. And His was a gold and she was the best. The best fixer, the best humanthing, the best. Right? But he still knew a compliment when he heard one, and crooned pleasantly at R’wign. He couldn’t say browns were not the best. That would mean Checkoth wasn’t the best and it would be so, so rude to say that. He wouldn’t say that. The Salamandyr’s tail curled more tightly around Riaren’s wrist, his head rubbing against the baby’s skin affectionately. Babies were the best too.

At least he was being petted, though. Mimic squirmed slightly under Riaren’s attention, tongue flicking out to lick the baby’s fingers in a show of blatant love. He adored Riaren, he really did. And he would have been perfectly happy to just stay, curled and cuddling against Riaren as much as he could, had R’wign not spoke to him again. The Salamandyr tilted his head curiously to one side before he cooed anxiously in Stumpy’s direction. Fine? He didn’t look fine. He didn’t seem fine. He seemed upset. Best fixer, the brown said in a soft ‘voice’, looking up at Emoyan curiously; was he maybe a fixer too? Best fixers, prettyowner and Mine.

A glance up at Emoyan again. Candimaster. Fixer too? Should. The last was added in case he wasn’t a fixer yet. Everyone should be a fixer. Even regular fixers made people happy, surely? Because when people broke they came to fixers, and the fixers fixed them. That would make him happy. Do fix, best fix~

[glamourie]

“Nah. I don’t know much about this sort of thing. I mean, I’m really good with kids around age two and up – once they’re old enough to start entertaining me. Treating babies is actually a healing specialty, not sure if you knew that, because it requires such care. I’ve never been good with them, so I stick with general healing, but I used to want to specialize with dealing with weyrbrats. Toddlers and kids. I get along really well with them. Anyway, yeah, no, I don’t know much about when he’ll start eating solids. I mean, he does try to stuff things in his mouth but I don’t know if it’s tasting so much as just being a baby, because he also shoves things in his nose from time to time…” In R’wign’s experience, babies tended to eat pretty much anything put in front of their mouths. Or at least open their mouths for anything put in front of it. He hadn’t seen, prior to that day, anything that Riaren disliked, which suggested the baby wasn’t a very picky eater. Maybe he’d been surprised by the taste? A distinct possibility, that was. Whatever it was, he didn’t really know the answer to Emoyan’s not-quite-question or technical details about babies. Prior to Riaren, he hadn’t even wanted one.

The look on his face became slightly whimsical before he shook his head, “You haven’t seen anything. You didn’t have M’ta and I as your students. We were candidates for Turns. I don’t know about him, but I took perverse delight in being a know-it-all and implying that our candidatemasters lacked intelligence. I did the same thing to Sel’n though. I have a problem with authority figures and being told what to do unless I’m genuinely learning something from it.” He shrugged; R’wign was defiant by nature. He didn’t take orders well. He was very much the giving-orders type. Control freak, he was.

Oblivious to the discussion between Emoyan and R’wign, Riaren gently patted Mimic. His head tilted and he looked at R’wign’s hair with wide eyes, obviously anxious. Why was it going byebye? Instinctively leaning one hand out toward the fallen hair, Riaren wiggled. Byebye, pretty hair, byebye. Well, if it made his daddy happy, he’d be happy, too. The toy was forgotten only for a moment before he looked back at Emoyan and moved the half-finished runner to his mouth. He immediately clamped his lips over the head and cooed around it, looking back and forth between the talking men anxiously. Why was daddy’s hair gone. So strange. It looked pretty though. Pretty daddy.

“She probably does have help. I don’t think even Stumpy can lift those things.” Stumpy was the smallest of R’wign’s firelizards – being the size of a green, and built more like a salamandyr, with huge wings. He tended to look like an overgrown white salamandyr more than anything else, except with blue patches. R’wign shook his head, then looked down at Mimic curiously, “Best fixers, yes. Emoyan’s not one though – he teaches the candidates so that they can Impress dragons like Jingth and Checkoth. He’s very important. Speaking of which, why’re you here? You don’t normally come visit without Meira. You’re like an omen of her arrival or something. It’s not common to see you away from her – what gives?” It didn’t dawn on him that asking Mimic that question could be perceived as rude, and R’wign had no intentions of apologizing either way. Not to a salamandyr anyway.

Stumpy, as if sensing he was being spoken about, gave an excited creel (his upset was forgotten) and flew up to settle on R’wign’s head. The freshly cut hair was examined, while R’wign held his arms out to take Riaren back. Oooh, ooooh….

[dragon]

Emoyan laughed. "No, I'm not a fixer. I'm a teacher." He told the mandyr, before making sure both the mandyr and the baby were secure to hand over to R'wign. "Hang on to it." He told Rairen, content to let the boy keep the wooden runner. Tucking his hands under the babe's arms, and lifting him by his chest, Emoyan leaned forward a bit to deposit him safely in his father's hands. "He's a good kid, I think." He praised.

"I may not have had you, expressly, as a student, no. But I've had plenty who tried just exactly that stunt." Emoyan commented, amused. "I figured out the fastest way to get those types to shut up was to go ahead and let them teach the class, then point out the missing parts. The youths seem to pay attention better, too, because it's different, unusual ... and sometimes apparently less boring when one of their own is doing the talking. I am not sure how it works, I'm not really clear on the whole psyche thing." He shrugged. "Of course, now everyone thinks I really like grapefruits ... but that's a whole other story." Emoyan couldn't help but laugh - no one could say being the Candidate Master was a boring job, that was for sure. He had to stay on his toes, or get mowed under.

[Avu]

Mimic squirmed slightly under Riaren’s touch, twisting to lick the baby’s fingers again. Movement didn’t bother him; his tail was coiled securely enough around Riaren’s wrist that it would take actual pulling to dislocate him. No, it wasn’t comfortable but that didn’t matter. Mimic wiggled, turning to look towards R’wign, and he gave a soft croon. And – the brown Salamandyr wasn’t being overly obvious about it, but he was looking at everything but Stumpy; R’wign had said he was fine and he believed that but it would still upset Mimic to look at him and know he’d made the firelizard upset. So no looking at Stumpy. He’d just lick Riaren’s fingers and everything would be okay.

The words from both Emoyan and R’wign regarding fixers and teachers made the brown tilt his head curiously to one side, nibbling gently on Riaren’s thumb. He didn’t see why someone couldn’t be both, because everyone who was a fixer fixed things. Everyone should want to be a fixer. Fix, he commented to Emoyan. Teach /and/ fix, yes please?

It didn’t occur to Mimic to think of anything as an insult. Insults just didn’t register. Certainly R’wign’s question didn’t trigger insult bells. He cooed softly as Riaren was handed back to his father, and Mimic tilted his head back to look at him (and try to avoid looking at Stumpy simultaneously; a difficult concept considering the blue’s perch). Eggbrothermine shiny pile. For Doppellove, see? His tail flicked in the direction of the shiny stone that lay nearby. Present, make shinies more shiny? He didn’t understand why Doppelganger collecting things, but he didn’t need to; he just knew his brother did and it made him happy when Mimic gave him shinies, so he did. Best shiny ever, he added, sounding delighted with himself; wasn’t it?