give me things to stay awake. (tags; rii)

[glamourie]

“Stop.”
Why?
“Because antagonizing the apprentices gives me headaches.”
But is amusing, R’wignmylove~
“Until my brain explodes all over the walls. Then you’ll be upset because your humanslave will be nonfunctioning and Kalierre will be upset because there’s R’wign-brains all over the walls to clean up. See, you’ll be inconveniencing everyone.”
Why break brain?
“They’re stupid enough to believe you. And then I have to clean up your messes. Please stop?”
Fine. Only since Vex loves R’wign~

The salamandyr and brownrider pair no doubt made quite the bizarre sight that particular afternoon in the infirmary. It was a particularly slow day, no doubt brought on by fate in response to R’wign having nothing else to do. Karma or whatever. He’d cleaned the entire infirmary in a psychotic fit the previous night due to being unable to sleep; seasonal allergies were terrible and his were making sleep hard. (He still hadn’t figured out how he escaped the bed without M’ta noticing and biting him or something, but success was success and R’wign was rapidly learning not to question it.) The infirmary glittered like a new gem and everything in it was meticulously organized, so the point of insanity. R’wign could be very obsessive when it came to things like that (resulting often in M’ta unfolding his blankets when he wanted attention – and it usually resulted in negative attention, such as R’wign squawking like some kind of enraged avian). By organizing everything the previous night, the Weyrhealer had very little to do that day... and well, R’wign was bored.

See: Drooping eyes. It was a miracle he hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

The day so far was characterized by nothing out of the ordinary. Absolutely nothing. Vex giving static to some of the apprentices was, so far, the highlight of the afternoon. R’wign had settled for doodling. Yes, doodling on one of the backs of the hides, and he couldn’t draw at all, so it was a comical sight to be sure. He was trying to draw Ellie, who was perching on the end of his desk watching the comings-and-goings in fascination, but... one would not think it was her from how terrible his attempt at art was. One would question whether it was anything at all, other than an obscure shape that was just downright pitiful. Not that R’wign cared. He was conceited enough that it really didn’t matter to him what the general population thought of him and he liked his drawing even if it didn’t look remotely like his little firelizard. So whatever.

Said gold firelizard was still something of a nervous wreck. Though Ellie had forgiven Checkoth, she was still very testy with everyone, and she’d taken to disappearing from R’wign’s presence from time-to-time – something that she used to never bother with simply because she was over protective of her mindmate. R’wign had little doubt where she was going. Being frantic over the babies no doubt led to Ellie obsessively checking up on all of them – making sure they were okay; especially the little green that Nephele had Impressed. So far, so good, but it didn’t stop Ellie from an almost frantic level of caring. Most dragons and firelizards stopped caring for their young once they reached adulthood, but not Ellie. She remembered who almost all of her babies were and she always cared for them. For the moment, she was staying with R’wign, but her tail was twitchy. He was hoping the anxiety eased soon. So was Checkoth, who still felt guilty.

His stylus drummed on the top of the desk, dark green eye narrowing slightly. One hand came up to push his hair out from in front of the patch over his empty eye socket and then he pushed Ellie off the end of the table lazily. She squawked and Vex chittered in quiet laughter, with R’wign raising an eyebrow. His response was cut off by a loud crash from out in the infirmary, though, and he sprung to his feet before bolting out the door to look for the source of the sound.

“WHAT WAS THAT?!”

[rii]

Oh.

Oh dear.

Brow furrowing in a frown, Ba'sun took picked up two large pieces of the – well he didn't exactly know what it was before it had broken into a half dozen shards. Maybe a jar. Ba'sun turned one piece end over end trying to make sense of the where to insert side A to side B. Ever so casually Ba'sun raised his eyes from where he currently crouched over the mess. Glue, that's what he needed. No one would know the differen—

Ba'sun visibly winced, shoulders hunching at the shrill sound of a irate hen coming to beat down on him with claws and beak (oh he could tell it was very much a man's voice, but the imagery amused him none the less) for disturbing her well-maintained nest. He didn't mean to, and it wasn't even him that had done it. Sigh. The bluerider began to pick up the fragments, balancing them along his forearm.

Ew, something gooey had been inside..

As R'wign approached – the clop-clop of boot against stone very audible to a guilty ear – Ba'sun moved to rise, dropping one of the shards as he did so. He was mid-pivot to face the weyrhealer when it clattered against the hard floor. He blinked at it, dumbfounded, before raising a half-smile at the younger man. "Uh, you see a kid run through here just a second ago? About yay high?" A hand hovered around his upper thigh.. then moved to his waist.. clearly not sure about the child's height.

He hard heard R'wign's demanding question loud and clear – but really how was he suppose to answer it when he didn't know what it was. Somehow 'thingie' just didn't cut it. Healers had a lot of thingies anyway, right?

[glamourie]

Clatter. Awkward. R’wign blinked, twice, squinted, and then cocked his head to the side. Note: Squinting with only one eye just looked (and felt) odd. He was pretty sure it was a decidedly pirate action. Ah well; not like R’wign cared much. Especially not at that moment as his gaze swept over the unfamiliar figure – which… really didn’t mean much because everyone was unfamiliar anymore, all he ever did was lurk in the infirmary making a point to forget faces. It was a sanity-saving technique – if he forgot who they were, he didn’t feel quite so lonely when they inevitably died. Which R’wign was rapidly accepting was the fate of anyone who made friends with him. Meet R’wign, become his friend, spontaneously die. Except M’ta. He was immune. Maybe it was the woos? That was quite a comical thought. He’d share it later. Life-saving woos that ‘smelled like a…’ whatever Checkoth had said. He poked his dragon mentally and got a response akin to You always smell funny – lovely. So helpful, his brown. R’wign blinked again. He did that a lot.

“Well that depends,” he replied ever-so-helpfully, “on whether the kid was this high,” R’wign paused to indicate knee level, “or this high,” he lowered his hand, “or maybe this high,” and he raised it to his waist. “Because the height differences could mean any number of kids. As it is, I was in the office pretending to work.” He thumbed toward his office door as indication. “So no. I didn’t see anyone.”

It was tempting to make a jab about vision – since he was missing an eye, he really did love needling people about asking him if he saw things. But this wasn’t someone he knew, not by name or reputation (though he had the distinct feeling that most of his mindmates were uncomfortable and Checkoth pleasantly supplied He is Ekarth’s – which should probably have meant something, but it didn’t). Needling might go over badly and since R’wign rarely meant any harm (in fact, R’wign was pretty close to harmless in general – he was just playful), he elected not to bother. Though, his gaze did immediately drop to the ground and all thoughts of teasing were replaced by a near-frantic level of upset. ‘Obsessive,’ he’d been called before. R’wign took meticulous care of the infirmary and could not handle messes in there unless it was someone bleeding all over the floor and even then he was irrationally offended by the blood on the floor. He’d just cleaned that and was that smell redwort – oh Faranth he was going to have to decoct more! Well… he hadn’t been doing anything but still –

“… Was that the jar of redwort?” Probably pointless to ask; he knew the smell. R’wign could detect infirmary smells halfway across the Weyr – no exaggeration. He was very good at it. Keen nose, him. “Ugh – it was!” He actually flailed at that, then tacked on, “– did you cut yourself?” Right, healer first, obsessive cleaning man later. He probably would’ve said more but right at that moment, one of the cot pillows went flying at his head from somewhere across the infirmary, hitting him square in the face. And there really was only one person who could aim that well without hitting an unintended target. R’wign twitched; he didn’t have to turn to find M’ta doing whatever it was he’d assigned him (see how good a weyrhealer he was, he’d already forgotten). He’d just punish him laaaater for that little display. Yes. Although – “Was he about this tall?” He indicated M’ta’s height with a raised eyebrow. “Because there’s someone that tall throwing things apparently, and well, if your goal is to strangle someone, I can turn a blind eye… I’m good at that…”

[rii]

One eye. Ba'sun squinted back at it. There was something he was supose to remember about a young man in the infirmary that only had one eye. Ba'sun puffed out one cheek, tilting his head further at the taller man. The next moment he expelled the air in a short raspberry. Ba'sun's hand again cut at the gestured points of height, a smile curving on his lips. "He's this tall when he stands straight. This tall when he slouches. And about yay when he runs."

Ba'sun almost thought he was in the clear. Almost. Yet when R'wign expression shifted, the Bendenite knew otherwise. A wince slowly formed on his face as he leaned aside, expecting the doc to explode all over the nice clean weyr. "Uhm.." Eloquent. Ba'sun looked down at the majority of mess on the floor. Redwort. Yes. Strange, he couldn't really smell any of it. The question of cuts earned another dumbfounded blink at the healer before Ba'sun scanned his arms. Didn't feel cut. Grinning, he lightly shrugged. "If I did, it's nice and clean." From the redwort, of course, that currently was staining his arm in stripes to make it hard to tell if any of it was actually blood.

Pillow – Ba'sun caught it with his foot before it could fall into the mess of clay shards and staining redwort. "Could you-" He lifted to leg, silently requesting R'wign to take the pillow. Ba'sun dared not to touch it with with hands, that aside from being full of jar fragments, were red. A quick glance in M'ta's direction earned a smirk to R'wign's words. "Nah, healer-man, if I did that someone would be all over the chance to catch me red-handed at something nefarious."

Fingers wiggled for emphasis, "That aside, are you sure this redwort is okay?" He licked the end of his finger, making a face. "It tastes wrong."

[glamourie]

“You can blame me. I’d cover for you,” R’wign replied dryly. Oh, he didn’t really want his weyrmate maimed, not really – it was just that M’ta was a fantastically large pain in his ass on so many occasions that R’wign couldn’t resist the chance to poke at him and he knew well that M’ta was also likely eavesdropping. If he hadn’t run out of earshot yet, anyway. That was another possibility, though not one that R’wign put much stock in. His weyrmate was such a brat. Hence the nickname, R’wign supposed. So apt. So fitting. So perfect. He was going to throttle M’ta later, yes he was...

Oh. Pillow. Right.

Crouching down, R’wign retrieved the pillow and wrapped his arms around it as though it was a comfort device. He wasn’t upset or anything, though. Actually, the healer was in a startlingly good mood despite the fact that his obsessive tendencies were going into overdrive and screaming for him to scrub the floor oh Faranth there was glass and someone was going to cut themselves – Right, right. He clamped down on that thought and mentally slammed the door shut, promising himself not to behave like a basket case in front of a total stranger. Even if it was tempting to be even more flamboyant than usual to spite M’ta. Throw a pillow at him, would he – grr. Right, right. There was a time and a place to be vindictive to a certain shorty. The infirmary wasn’t it, even if there was nothing terribly interesting going on.

Except that statement. R’wign blinked. He’d prepared the redwort himself, being the obsessive nutcase that he was. If it had gone bad – that probably meant that one of the apprentices had left the jar open in which case heads would roll.

“I’m R’wign, not healer-man. And you’re going to have to forgive me for being awkward but,” R’wign reached over and swiped his finger through the redwort on the man’s arm and then brought it into his mouth to look thoughtful. More bitter than usual, less acidity... Definitely gone bad. What a nuisance. “One of the apprentices left the lid off of it, bother...” He paused, then turned around and yelled loud enough that everyone in the infirmary would hear, “ONE OF YOU IS GOING TO DIE!” He didn’t explain the context, but theatrical death threats were kind of normal for R’wign so it was unlikely that anyone nearby would pay heed to his comment beyond M’ta likely hurling another pillow at his face. He’d pay for that later, yes he would.

“I should thank you for letting me know but I’m going to probably agitate you by telling you that you need to sit down and let me check out your arm. AND YOU,” the comment being directed at a passing apprentice who actually jumped in surprise, “can clean up this mess. Hop to.” He didn’t wait for a response to that, instead waving the pillow like a baton toward one of the beds. “Make this easier on me so I don’t have to send my flitters after you in a fit, eh? I promise I’ll be quick~”

[rii]

R'wign. Right. The appropriate information tumbled into place and Ba'sun squinted at the weyrhealer. Younger than he'd thought the man would be. Oh well. Selenitas was a young weyr all together. "Oh by all means, help yourself." Ba'sun raised his arms and fingers up for R'wign's licking – or, well, a swipe of finger worked just as well, he guessed. Not as awkward, but to each their own. Ba'sun steepled his red hands together with a wet smack and awaited the professional's opinion.

As he thought, redwort had gone bad. A slow learned piece of knowledge of being in the infirmary and suffering the staff his brand of humor. He got onto strange topics when trying to make people talk with him to ease his boredom. Redwort had been one of them, especially after one kid tried to shove a piece in his mouth to get him to shut up. Didn't quite work out that way.

Brows rising, Ba'sun surveyed the room at R'wign's shout to catch a few of the blank looks cast in their direction. He wasn't bothered in the least by the dramatic threat – impressed to a very imagitive dragon that did so enjoy being peculiar to earn doubting looks. It took a lot to make Ba'sun uncomfortable in any given situation. The Bendenite opened his mouth to protest, but found his words drowned out by the barked order at the nearest apprentice. The jar had fallen on the floor, not on him, but.. well, R'wign could play doctor if so desired.

Ba'sun goose-stepped, pivoting on one heel to face the bed. He sat on the very edge, being careful to not touch any of the linens with the staining mess. His eyes watched R'wign, humor dancing in the dark brown color as he held out his arms for the healer's inspection. "Not usually something a man promises." He made a motion to catch the end of R'wign's nose with the stained fingers, falling short. He hummed contently to himself, glancing about the infirmary. "So how many flitters are we talking about?"

[glamourie]

Bahahahah.

People really shouldn’t tempt him. That was R’wign’s only thought at the bluerider’s words and offered hand – it was really tempting. Being fond of doing things to antagonize people (eh heh) and get reactions (EH HEH), it was really hard not to act on that impulse. The reason he didn’t? He was pretty sure the pointy-throwing menace across the infirmary would respond poorly to him licking a stranger’s hand. If he didn’t fling something at Ba’sun, he’d just be irritable at him later and while R’wign was perfectly capable of dealing with M’ta’s moodiness (hi pot, meet kettle~), he’d really rather not have to deal with his weyrmate being agitated with him. So… he didn’t act on impulse. So hard. So hard. The look on his face said volumes, the amusement dancing through his one remaining eye enough to indicate exactly what he was thinking. Oh well. R’wign would be good. See, see, an exercise in self-restraint (… but he couldn’t tie the fourth knot; haha bad joke).

Glancing at the apprentices who looked up at his proclamation, R’wign made a very ‘mature’ face by sticking out his tongue at them. He really would ream whoever had let his redwort go bad – because R’wign went out of his way to gather, crush and decoct the stuff himself, so it was a painstaking process that he’d have to repeat due to someone else’s negligence – but he didn’t know who that was yet, so no; for the moment, all was safe. Including Mr. Ekarth’s-rider-thank-you-Checkoth-for-the-help. He led the man to one of the infirmary cots and gently took his wrist to look over his arm, an eyebrow raising at the question that, in his mind, had a very obvious answer. Didn’t he know who he was? Apparently he was new, because R’wign was fairly certain his firelizard magnetism was well-known all throughout the Weyr to anyone who had been there for very long. They also tended to know that baiting R’wign was a bad, bad thing. R’wign had trouble not responding to bait. He hated losing. Challenges were meant to be won.

“Well, that look to me directly there’s four firelizards and a salamandyr. But that doesn’t really mean anything because I’ve Impressed a grand total of… hn… Beggar, Roxie, Li, Ennayoh, Collision, Hazard, Accident, Crash… eight more. On top of the four I have.” He crouched down to look over the man’s wrist carefully, obviously taking his time to make sure that he wasn’t cut. “Ellie also is pretty good at rounding up others when she gets anxious. She’s a gold.” He didn’t elaborate; anyone who knew anything about draconids knew that queens could command others to do what they wanted. What he didn’t say was that Ellie rarely had to command anyone. Most creatures liked Elegance. She was hard not to like. His gaze flicked over the wrist and one finger went up to trace the redwort over the line of veins – unnecessary, but R’wign was bored and pretending that he legitimately thought the bluerider was hurt kept him from having to find whichever apprentice was sentenced to death. And/or strangling his weyrmate. That was high on his to-do list too.

Eyebrow raise. Smile. Head lift. “You know, Checkoth tells me you’re Ekarth’s rider, I don’t know your name but I’ve decided that you’re going to be my accomplice for this afternoon on account of my being very bored and well – killing apprentices is only entertaining until they scatter and tattle to Ka’rys. And then he beats me up. Entertain me?”

[rii]

Ba'sun sat placidly – for now – letting his dark eyes remained on the healer as he turned and poked at his arms. A polite attention as it was, considering R'wign was speaking and Ba'sun was suppose to be giving his attention to the conversation. Truth be told, the Bendenite didn't care about fire lizards. Seeing them constantly darting through the air gave him an itch to test his archery skills. He was that good, better even, and the little lizards would provide excellent moving targets. A piece of personal opinion that Ba'sun knew better than to share with a firelizard guru.

Taking his time, wasn't he..

Ba'sun's gaze lowered to his arms, knowing full and well nothing was there for R'wign to find. The healer seemed to be tracing over the same lines. A smile inched across Ba'sun's closed lips. The amusement shone in his eyes as the healer met his gaze. Entertain me. Sounded like a blatant invitation to him. Albeit, Ba'sun flirted with just about anyone for a good laugh. One-eye wasn't bad looking at all. "Ba'sun, is my name."

He leaned forward, head slightly turned to keep his eyes on the apprentice cleaning up the spilled redwort. In a staged whisper spoke, "Are you sure it's beneficial for your underlings to see you having a good time, they might start to think you'll be in a good mood and not remove their heads." The dark eyes shifted over to R'wign's face, smirk firmly in place. "Unless you like to lull them into a false sense of security to scare the piss out of them later."

A red finger swiped down R'wign's cheek to leave a streak of color behind. Ba'sun sat back, holding his arms up again so they didn't touch anything in the room. "I really need to clean up before I start drawing you a story on all this cleanliness. I warn you now, my artistic skills are lacking."

[glamourie]

Ba’sun – why did that sound familiar? One of the ones brought from the other place, was the explanation that his brown supplied. R’wign blinked for a moment before smiling. He didn’t judge people; it was probably a major failing. Or, to be more exact, he didn’t believe in holding someone’s past against them. His own wasn’t exactly some big mystery or drama – he’d run away from home, became a healer, wham bam thank you ma’am. No big scary skeletons. But Ka’rys and M’ta? Two of the more important people in his life? (M’ta being second only to Terilyn and Riaren, and he strongly suspected his weyrmate would have it no other way.) They both had skeletons enough to drown in, and he was betting that most people would hold their pasts against them. It’d taken a long time to pry M’ta’s out of him and… none of it did he blame M’ta for. Not even in his most angry moments. He didn’t know much about Ka’rys’s history except that he wasn’t happy about it – he hated to talk about his past with a fire and fury like nothing R’wign ever saw with him before. He was secretive, yes, but asking him about his life at Fort got hisses and snarls. It very obviously upset him…

The thought was pushed away. So. Ba’sun of Ekarth. He was entertaining enough and R’wign decided he liked him. So there.

“Aww, it’s so cute how little you know me,” R’wign said happily, hints of amusement in his voice. “They don’t fear me. I rant and rave and they just skitter but when the chips are down, I’m not the healer they all scatter from. I defer to Kalierre when it comes to scary. Apparently, I’m too nice for my own good. Or people just know I couldn’t hurt a vtol bug let alone an apprentice. Boo.”

He couldn’t, either. R’wign was pretty much harmless when it came to other people. The worst he could do? Mock them or drive them batty with commentary. R’wign was good at being impossible and insufferable. Kill ‘em with laughter, if you will. He wasn’t so good at the intimidation factor. Kind of funny, really; he wasn’t weak by any stretch of the imagination and he’d had Ka’rys teaching him fighting for months, actually close to a turn, and he was making progress, but R’wign wasn’t an intimidating figure. He wasn’t small like Ka’rys, but Ka’rys was a hell of a lot scarier than he was; or at least, he thought so. Then again, most people didn’t seem to know the bronzerider existed anymore. A fact he was sure he’d be grateful for really. None of the apprentices were scared of him. They had no reason to be. Worst he’d do was scowl. Oh so scary.

The finger on his cheek made him tilt his head and he leaned up to touch the cool spot, skin tingling from the redwort. Enough time in the infirmary numbed oneself to certain things – the smell of boiling numbweed was no longer offensive – but physical sensations never diminished. Thankfully. “Mess up my infirmary and we’ll have words. Like I said, couldn’t hurt a vtol bug but I’m good at being very very annoying. That said,” R’wign stepped over to the end table by the cot and rifled through the different things inside of the drawer before removing a towel and tossing it. “That’ll get rid of the excess, you can wash your hands over there.” He indicated one of the basins neatly. “But I’d hate to stifle your artistic creativity. If you’re looking for an outlet, I think I can oblige~”

[rii]

"I wouldn't mind getting to know you."

A reflexive response, and to tell the truth, Ba'sun didn't really notice it. At the moment too busy smiling at R'wign's rendition on the workings of the infirmary. "It's for the best anyway. Women are the champions of giving looks that make you want to meld in with the wall. The glares often the only warning signs you get to see before objects come flying at your pretty little head."

Grateful for the towel, Ba'sun began the task of wipe the majority of the staining substance off of his arms - despite he was a little more than tempted to start expressing his creativity over the rest of the infirmary to see just how annoying R'wign could be with words alone. Another time, perhaps. "I would continue, but I'm afraid my canvas moved." R'wign in the flesh, he meant of course.

He rose, tossing the towel pointedly over R'wign's head before skirting around to the wash basin to dip one arm into the water and begin scrubbing himself clean. Would have settled for going down to the river, but that would mean leaving his current company - even though he still had yet to go find that kid that had flinched one of Ekarth's satchels. Could always find the kid later, not like he had anywhere to go, and he could only hide for so long. Ba'sun was sure he could learn him out with the smell of pies.

"Although, curious, what was your idea?"

[glamourie]

“Yeaaah yeah, that’s what they all say and then they discover I’m incapable of being serious for lengths of time exceeding five minutes maximum and they find me boring, they find me drab, they find me average and it’s just so hurtful, you know? So hurtful. No more crushing disappointments for me, oh ho. No, you will not get to do that!” Cue dramatic hand gestures, hurt look and mock-sob. The whole shebang. If there was an award for the biggest brat in the Weyr, R’wign was fairly sure that he and M’ta would be collectively fighting over it. Except M’ta was only a brat to him, whereas he was just incapable of not being bratty to everyone else. Harmless. But bratty. And with sass. Poor Sel’n knew that better than most. He finished his ‘tale’ with a flourishing hand clutching his chest, head bowed slightly as though in reverence. “For the safety of my tender heart which my oh-so-cruel weyrmate breaks on a fairly regular basis, I hold you at arm’s length and wish the best of you in future endeavors~”

Right. R’wign wasn’t overdramatic at all. Ever. Also dragons didn’t come in gold, bronze, brown, blue and green. Vicious lies.

He was pretty sure the reason Kalierre intimidated people more than he did was that she didn’t mince words. She tended to say the truth. There was some basis in the whole You’re a man joking that he made. She did act more like a man than some of the women at Selenitas – she seemed perfectly content to chew people a new ass, which was really quite emasculating in some cases. R’wign had actually taken to ignoring most of Kalierre’s jabs at him (most of which he knew to be joking) in favor of making rude remarks about being able to outrun her. He was the king of cheap shots. Besides which, he didn’t really care if it wasn’t a valid complaint about his healing skills. He was pretty sure any whining she had beyond that was just her grumbling to be grumbling and well, his weyrmate had pretty much desensitized him to that. He knew too many people who complained for the sake of complaining. It had to be a northern thing. Hi, I woke up today and decided I was going to whine over everything. R’wign responded with obsessively fixing jars. Everyone had their quirks.

Flying toooowel. Why was everyone throwing things at him today? Pshaw. R’wign crinkled his nose and moved to pick the towel up and toss it into the laundry (why yes, he was a neat freak) basket set aside for linens. The infirmary had a few of those since they had to clean sheets on a fairly regular basis. And it kept the towels from the floor. Which he’d just washed. Erk.

“Oh I was just going to suggest drawing symbols on the apprentices’ heads so that I can more easily remember their names because my numerical system isn’t really working out for me. I mean, I try, but then I get three and four mixed up and I can’t seem to convince any of them to just wear the numbers on their chests like proper slaves. Bother.” Grinning ear-to-ear, R’wign turned and then looked at Ba’sun thoughtfully before asking, “How good are you? Really? Honest answer. At drawing I mean. I’m not very, so I’m wondering.”

[rii]

A rather theatrical fellow. Ba'sun smiled to himself. He liked it. It got all too tiring when people took everything far too seriously. It made him feel old. Heavens knew his actual age suggested he should be mature and serious, but Ba'sun rarely acted any older than a twenty turn old. People would find complaint were they wanted, but if he did act his age and let his past take it's toll, there would be little left but an old, old man.

The mention of a weyrmate didn't escape his notice, nor did the joining ring on the healer's hand. Ba'sun, being born and raised inside a weyr, never conformed to the views the holds had on monogamy. He own weyrmate had slept with others, and he had his fair share of dalliances, but they were still together if only for the children. It seemed that way in the end, after his eldest died their relationship had broken apart. Sad thoughts. Hm..

Ba'sun turned away from the wash basin, frowning as he watched R'wign dispose of the towel. It wasn't all dirty, and what was he suppose to dry his hands on now? It'd just be a waste to use another. Thus, Ba'sun half shook his hands out hoping the peculiar healer didn't stress about water droplets getting on the floor. "That's not quite as fun as drawing on you. Could just shave the numbers into the back of their heads when they are sleeping. Slaves don't get choices."

A brow rose at the serious question. "Probably not that good. I think the last time I actually tried to draw was in the sand with my youngest." Which would be nearing a decade ago. "If I recall correctly, he was laughing his ass off at my attempts at a cat - or was it a dog." A hand flicked dismissively through the air. "Something with four legs anyway. I know people that can draw, and well, if that counts."

[glamourie]

Water on the floor, oh Faranth he was going to cut someone. R’wign forced the nearly psychotic urge to tackle and shake Ba’sun from his mind. The bluerider was probably not doing it on purpose but yes, R’wign had obsessive tendencies when it came to the infirmary. At least it wasn’t his jars. People touching his jars made him not only have a small tantrum but he came dangerously close to throttling the life from them. It was bad enough that the redwort had broken everywhere and would require replacement (… which R’wign would do himself, despite being Weyrhealer, because he had a severe amount of anal retentiveness when it came to his herbs and no one – repeat, no one – made the herbal tonics and healing salves better than he did). He’d just mopped those floors… weep. Oh well. At least it was, presumably, clean water. He’d make one of the apprentices get on their hands and knees and scrub the floor to his satisfaction. Whichever one allowed the redwort to go back. That felt like a good, nicely vindictive plan. Excellent.

“Well, yes, I’m an exceptionally lovely canvas, I know,” R’wign replied with a smirk as the irritation fizzled away. Vanity, thy name was R’wign. Justified, though, wasn’t it? He’d never been called ugly. Feminine, yes, quirky, hell yes, bratty of course. But never ugly. He had a hefty dose of conceit to go with him because he honestly believed that he was gorgeous – so gorgeous that people went out of their way to flirt with him. Riiight. That and the fact that R’wign himself was an insufferable flirt even with inanimate objects (his current fixation was Nephele’s brown firelizard, and he was determined to figure out a way to trade Grouch to her for the handsome little devil), so most people found him easy to be around. Most. Not all. And yes, it went straight to his head. “But alas, I don’t think painting on me is likely to earn either of us many compliments. Just the same, if you’re nice, I’ll let you paint on my face. I like face painting. We need to find a gather where I can get that done…”

Really, the only reason he asked about painting was Teri. He’d been considering painting firelizards and salamandyrs onto the walls of their weyr, which meant finding paint that would stick to stone. He had some stencils but if someone else could make new ones, that would’ve been great. Salamandyr stencils didn’t exist.

“To be fair, felines and canines are quite complex to draw.” Ever-R’wign, that reasoning. He was tempted to ask how old Ba’sun’s children were (his words suggested plural), but it didn’t seem like his business. “That’s okay, I tried drawing in the sand with my son. Didn’t really go so well because my firelizards and salamandyr felt it prudent to sit and roll around in the sand obsessively, particularly Grouch who basically exists for one purpose: to destroy everything that’s good in this world. I’m convinced they’re all the bane of my existence.” He hadn’t tried drawing with Teri; he usually just sang with her and even at her age, she sang better than he did. Woe.

[rii]

"I'm going to hold you to that," Somehow some way. Ba'sun didn't have a real interest in actually painting on R'wign's face, but he'd gladly come up with metaphors or other means to cash in on the offer. His current thought, lewd as a lot of them usually were, brought a grin to face without vocal comment. In the end he settled with the idea of using mud and caking it on nice and thick to watch the persnickety young man flail. "How old is your son?"

If there was a line that wasn't meant to be crossed in conversation, Ba'sun never paid attention to it. Of course, he was the type to trample all over a subject, pause when he realized he might of offended someone, then make a few jokes about it to add salt to the wound. It wasn't meant to be cruel, per say, but people just took too personally. He lived by the philosophy that you had to learn to laugh at yourself. It proved to be a useful tactic over the turns. "Never had a fire lizard, but I had two sons. They were pretty destructive when at the right age."

He paused only a moment before continuing, nodding his head in mock sternness, "Which I fully blame on their mother. She had the tendency to throw things when she got pissed off - usually at my head. Feisty little woman."

Hands on hips, Ba'sun watched the appointed apprentice scrub the floor, given the kid an apologetic smile before returning his attention to the weyrhealer. "You're probably not allowed to leave huh? I'd really hate to messed up your infirmary any more than I have. I should probably get to setting out bubble pie traps for that little rat I was chasing earlier." Only, Ba'sun's expression shifted, and he turned his head in the direction of the open ledge. "Don't even think about it."

But Ssun'O'mine, you dessired mud for drawing. I merely brought the ssuppliess to you, Ekarth commented innocently while adding another muddy pawprint near the entry of the human side of the infirmary. If His was having fun, he wanted to have fun too. It was only fair. Which meant he was openly broadcasting to all those that would listen. Jusst a little ssmudge?