Weyrbowling for Soup [Lotty]

[Shiny]

Chop chop, E'riusmine. My hide will not clean itself, you surely know that.[/color]

The Bronzerider observed his odd mindmate with half-lidded dark hazel eyes, squinting against the fiery waterfall of sunset streaming over the crater's edge. He had been kneeling contentedly next to a bonfire near the weyrbowl's salty pool of water, poking at the hearth with a stick in a recreational way. The fire was large and warm in preparation for the onset of the cooler night. Sparks and bits of ash rose with smoke into the air, the crackling of wood against stone prominent against the ambient murmurings of activity around him.

E'rius put the stick to the side and stood up, stretching towards the blazed sky, thick muscles bunching below tanned skin. "Your mutation should have been a self-cleaning hide. You would certainly be far less of an annoying dragon," said the towering man with an amused half-smirk as he sauntered towards the edge of the salty gathering of water. Without bothering to peel off his pants (he understood that not everyone wanted to see his naked, very-nicely-chiseled butt), he waded into the water, quickly becoming submerged to his naked waist.

Amarath twisted his four-horned head to look down his muzzle at his prized possession with hazy purple eyes. It would not kill you to move a little faster,[/color] he snorted, settling down against the flat ledge beneath him. Large shimmering red-tinged wings unfolded and slowly dipped in and out of the surface, causing water to lap at his sides. He was still waiting for the masseur team that he demanded E'rius gather, and simply couldn't grasp why nobody but his object would do so. He was, after all, a colossal Bronze. It was almost cruel he didn't have more than one servant. (To him, not to E'rius. He was doing E'rius a great honour by letting him touch his precious hide.)

"I'm surprised you haven't shriveled up like a dried berry with the amount you bathe in this salt puddle." He paused for a moment, at a loss of something to clean Amarath with, before he realized that he'd had a bunched up cloth in his pocket. (It was a necessary tradition to carry it with him, with how often his diva of a dragon demanded service.) The Bronzer managed to pull the cloth out and slapped the waterlogged fabric onto his dragon's side. My hide is immune because it is of higher quality than all the others.[/color] Like that really needed to be explained, it was blatantly the truth.

Tonight's bathing proved to be a rather noisy one for Amarath. His two sets of upward-curved headknobs were super-sensitive to the dragon communication network, simply amplifying things in his head. Tonight's static was much more annoying than usual, although it was just as useless as ever. Perhaps that meant someone was closer by than he usually allowed. Come out, come out, wherever you are.~[/color] he called out in an abnormally booming volume. Perhaps the masseurs had finally arrived.

[Lotty]

Mi'rah took foreverrrrr, and Kierjaarth was getting bored. Yeah sure, Ruskeath and Aonith were interesting for a little while, but they were much too amiable. He always worried that by spending too much time in their presence he would find a reason to dislike them, or worse... they would find a reason to dislike him (though he didn't know why, he was constantly awesome). So it was that he eventually excused himself to instead head down to the weyrbowl while his rider insisted on yabbering on and on with his old friends, and make goofy faces at their children. It would have been almost cute if it wasn't for the fact that Kier was convinced that he wanted his own now.

Which was just sort of sad and tragic. Nevermind the concept of a bouncy little child in their weyr and poking at his hide. The bronze simply couldn't bare that feeling of longing and regret that was just emanating from his rider, and took off. Existential funks were only entertaining when he was the one experiencing it. Nobody else.

When you just decide to kidnap the hatchling and get it over with, tell me. I will be busy basking in a cool bath of my own apathy and staking out a spot where I can turn my nose up at everyone in superiority.

He received no direct answer - the rider's attention was almost wholly on the distribution of some age appropriate candy for one of G'tor's kids - but instead got some mild acknowledgement that very subtly said, "I don't care." Luckily there was plenty of entertainment around to distract him from the oblivious and innocent nature of Mi'rah's gloominess. For instance he knew there was a Higginth around somewhere, and despite the horrid memory of dragonkind, he did not forget a prickly dragon such as he. Who else would take such horrid offense to the oh so kind nicknames he crafted? He doubted he would ever be as humored as he was in those moments, but then as he padded into the lake to wallow like some lethargic alligator, he heard a voice. It wasn't Higginth's.... but it would certainly do wouldn't it?

Sliding into the water as opposed to stopping his path and backing his way back out, the dragon flicked his wings to cause a stir and a splash before replying, Wherever you are? But I am right here. He snaked his tail out to wave in a cheeky greeting before lowering his head down below the surface, just so that only his eyes would shine above. Unless of course you were expecting someone else... maybe him? He used his tail again to point at E'rius, though he was plainly just playing. Why on Pern would Amarath need to ask where his own rider was?

[Shiny]

One of Amarath's eye membranes slid down to an annoyed half-mast as the source of the extra static made himself apparent. A narrowed, unamused stare was fixed on the Bronze as he slid into the water and made ripples with his wings. The red-hued Bronze sat submerged on his ledge with the haughty air and craned neck of a sphinx, still as a statue with the exception of the tip of his tail flicking.

I was expecting my masseur team to be composed of humanthings, not a dragon. And a garish one at that.[/i] he broadcasted loudly, giving Kierjaarth's busy hide a once-over over the tip of his nose. You are a Bronze, should you not have your humanthing pampering you? I see him naught.[/i]

Rubbing the cloth in circles on Amarath's hide, E'rius looked over his shoulder at the incoming dragon. Another Bronze, but no Rider with him. The large man was nearly tempted to say 'fly away while you still can', but decided against it. It would probably be an amusing interaction, and at the very least, it would keep Amarath from harassing him while he scrubbed at the quartz-like hide. And perhaps if the Bronze was distracted enough, he could get away with a shoddier job. It would be interesting to see if this unknown Bronze would actually get along with Amarath. But if he didn't, it wouldn't be a loss.

I have not seen you around the Weyr before; you must not be from Inverness. I suppose stories of my beauty and strength have travelled to the southern Weyr, and you have come to see the myth for yourself.[/i] The Bronze's purple eyes glowed with amusement and self-absorption. He snorted mist from his nostrils as he unfolded his wings to their mighty, towering span, careful not to knock over E'rius with the action. He spoke with his usual cringe-worthy booming voice, the normal derision-for-others tone in place. Well here I am. Behold: I am Bronze Amarath, Dragon Networking Communicator Extraordinaire. Entertain me.[/i] Although the four-horned dragon was very territorial and despised nearly all males, luckily Amarath had an obsession for shiny things. Kierjaarth was shiny enough to at least capture some of his interest. The colossal Bronze wouldn't send him packing just yet.

[Lotty]

Kierjaarth would have cocked his head in consideration had he not have been mostly submerged, but instead he merely snorted into the water, allowing a few bubbles and a small fountain to flute up from his nostrils for a moment. This Amarath was a little thick headed now wasn't he? Or at least immensely self involved. Regardless, the younger bronze was losing points quickly with the "ornately" decorated dragon, and he was quick to deflect the comments of another, Garish to some, art to others. Aren't opinions wonderful? Everyone gets one... Even oblivious hatchlings who liked throwing stones in glass houses...er weyrs.

Anyway, What does it matter to you anyway if mine is here or not? Surely it is none of your concern what is happening to me as long as your needs are attended to. It was an honest question. Kierjaarth couldn't begin to fathom why the other bronze would care so much...

Maybe Amarath's weird wish would come true soon anyway. The bronze sensed that his rider was saying his farewells and making his way out to find him in the lake. Sure, he'd probably be flummoxed by the fact that he'd have a mostly wet dragon to sit on for a short bit of their flight, but then it would be nothing new for the pair of them. Kierjaarth too often strove to challenge his bonded in whatever way that he could. It was a sign of love he supposed. Maybe in that way he wasn't all too different from his new companion here in the weyrbowl?

Not that this brief realization of a potential common thread was going to soften his stance. The rangy dragon felt like he was on the defense, and guarded himself as such. He couldn't exactly help it if his answers gave this away, I am not of this place, no. I was hatched not far away, but that was so long ago that it hardly matters anymore. The bronze remembered Benden in the sort of hazy and ethereal way. His egg shards might have disintegrated into the very sands of the hatching grounds, but that place had been abandoned... forsaken even. I can't say I have heard of you however. Your reputation does not proceed yourself.

You shouldn't worry your pretty head over it though. The name Kierjaarth does not often leave Inverness walls either.

[Shiny]

The colossal Bronze snorted into the sunset-splashed air and then lowered his head to half submerge into the salty water much like the other had. What a shame neither I nor E'riusmine have an eye for art.[/i] He could have mentioned how it wasn't an opinion, it was fact; but the retort stood by itself nonetheless. Kierjaarth's hide certainly had the potential to be art; Amarath couldn't see it, but perhaps it was a reason he found this dragon to be one of the most interesting he'd encountered in a while.

It matters not. I simply figured that, being a fellow Bronze, you would also be having your needs met.[/i] Not a word spoken was sarcastic. He truly found it odd that Kierjaarth didn't have somebody carrying out his every whim. Which made him wonder, again, where his masseur team was. E'rius was a horrible servant in that the man often shot down his requests. That was not the way a Bronze was supposed to be treated.

A set of transparent membranes closed over Amarath's eyes as the dragon submerged himself fully, gliding through the water while sending his Rider a mental dismissal. E'rius sighed, stretched, then tossed the rag onto the rocks. He'd take a few minutes to wash off some dirt and grime that had built up since his last bathing, which had admittedly been a while ago. He began to scrub at his skin and submerged his head a few times. The grease that had built up in his dark mass of hair had gone unnoticed until now. Remind me to bathe more often.

Amarath, completely ignoring his Rider, followed a wide arc underwater and then emerged in all of his sparkling glory slightly closer to the fellow Bronze than he had been before. He spread his wings wide to act as a floating device and observed the other with his consistantly purple eyes. Kierjaarth certainly had caught his attention, which was a rare feat. He couldn't place why. Perhaps it was the sense that this other dragon was similar in terms of traits. Then perhaps you ought to start the wildfire that is my reputation, wherever it is you come from,[/i] he jousted, snorting bubbles. Place of origin is no longer necessary, whether it is recent or far in the past.[/i] The wise comment stood out, words lacking Amarath's usual condescending venom. Origins are what started the Dragon War, after all. Perhaps we are not stupid enough creatures to fall into the same trap.[/i]

[Lotty]

Some have large eyes, some have loose tongues.... Kierjaarth offered that much at least. He couldn't comment on E'rius, but Amarath was leading him to believe that his bonded and him were just two peas in a pod. Neither of them could see something artistic and call it beautiful? How... droll. Kier needed to know much more about these two... it seemed impossible that a pair could be so fundamentally flawed. Where was Mi'rah in such instances? The man was not his personal masseuse by any means, but his bonded was always to bounce ideas off of in situations such as this.

And what did ya know, there was the bumbling, clumsy, weirdo right now, lurching forward towards the lake with his perpetually overwhelmed and befuddled expression that he has retained since his youth. Perfect! My needs are being met though.... little do you know. The bronze then craned his neck up and out of the water to draw his attention to that blip on the horizon that was managing to grow and grow with each uneven step. With the break in the water, there was a small clatter and swish followed by the distinct purr of a dragon's laugh. Yes, Kierjaarth was more than guilty of being smug then and now.

Mi'rah as he neared gave a scathing look at his other half, his lips stretching into clear distaste as he noted his dragon's state of... wetness. In fact he was not at all opposed to voicing his thoughts as if nobody was around, shifting the harness under his left arm so that it hung a little looser and visibly sulkier, "You.... do this on purpose don't you? S-sopping wet is no way to go between and you know it." On guard for his dragon's propensity for defiance and mischief, the rider took a side step away and out of a potential splash zone. It was then that he had noted E'rius out of the corner of his eye, blocked mostly by the other larger bronze.

Of course Mi'rah would never be caught dead properly and kindly greeting another human being, and so he, despite the distance, called out to the other rider, "I hope my... associate here didn't prove to be a..." he struggled then with his last word as he wearily eyed his gaudy companion pulling out of the lake, "bother to you."

Place of origin will always be important. No dragon forgets the sand where they hatch and one shouldn't be shamed by the memory. He rustled his wings to shuck some of the water off onto the banks of the lake, Dragon Wars is an unfair term anyway. Two leggers... they start wars, the crime of dragons is only that we like to finish things.

[Shiny]

The sparkling Bronze remained quiet, sensing that Kierjaarth was somehow scoring him with insults under that sardonic tone. At least this one was intelligent about showing his opinion, as opposed to the usual screaming buffoons and their strings of bad words. Amarath mimicked Kierjaarth's craning neck and followed his line of sight, taking note of something running towards them on the horizon. The eyesore Bronze then proceeded to let out sounds of amusement, completely befuddling the younger one.

The large Bronze tilted his head to observe another human standing upon the rocky edge where the water began. He was scolding Kierjaarth. Either this was just an insolent human-thing that didn't know his place, or perhaps he was the other Bronze's Bonded. Are you Kierjaarth's?[/color] he projected simply when the man turned to look at him.

E'rius swung his head back out of the surface, arcs of water spraying from his messy locks. Still greasy without the sands and the soaps, but it was better than nothing. A curious yet careful jab from his mindmate drew the large man's attention to a new figure on the scene. A seemingly older man than he. Introducing oneself sopping wet wasn't exactly the most accepted of ways, but what little choice he had. This Bronzerider - E'rius automatically labeled him as such - already didn't appear to follow social norms, anyway.

Shaking his hair of some of its wetness, the waist-deep Bronzerider lifted a hand in a greeting gesture and turned to face the man. "Oh, no. If anything, I'm quite surprised that Yours is not bothered by Mine, which always appears to be the case." He grinned with a bit of charm and then slowly waded toward the rocky shore. The sky was getting much darker now that the sun had almost fully set, so the warmth of the flaming firepit E'rius was heading towards was welcome. "You are welcome to sit with me while you wait for Yours to finish bathing." The Bronzerider gestured next to him as he slowly lowered himself to the ground in front of the flames. "I am E'rius, Bronzerider of Amarath."

Hmm. I suppose one could think of it like that.[/i] commented Amarath. Others might say they are the same entity as their Rider. I simply enjoy the services and company of Mine; the life I enjoyed was constantly interrupted by the enemy. It was a personal offense against me, so I participated in the war. Destroying them fixed the issue.[/i]