Fort Weyr - Bathing Caverns
A high, domed ceiling stretches far overhead, voices echoing in the distance. Warm, moist air fills the room, coming from the variety of pools scattered about. Vines have been planted in baskets and grow up the walls, thriving in the soft artificial light provided by glows placed at random intervals about the room.


Yesterday the Red Star must have been hovering over S'ai's head, because the bronzerider had The. Worst. Day. Ever. The morning had dawned sunny and that was about the last positive thing he can remember. Breakfast left him feeling ill. Then, duties took him to a cothold where someone had reportedly been keeping a wild feline they'd won in a bet as a cub, only it got older, grew up, and decided to make a run for it. The bronzerider ended up in a rousing game of cat and mouse, learned firsthand what it felt to be a mouse, but ended up recovering the cat and seeing it dropped on a nice southern island - from a survivable height. Then he got back to Fort only to realize his marks were missing, the pouch disappeared from his belt. Nursing a few fresh stitches, he thought a trip to the bar was in order. Only for something in the drink to disagree - lingering food poisoning, medicine conflict, or something more sinister? He had no idea, only to wake up face-down in his weyr without his pants. Thinking things couldn't get worse, the next morning finds him in the bathing caverns. Word has it he's been in there awhile, which the pruning seems to confirm. He's slouched almost nose deep in the water, eyes bloodshot and brows drawn into a scowl, and staring at no one place in particular.

Usually this sort of luck is what plagues and shadows Mr'az and not because of the ill fated Red Star hovering above his head but more because he's bonded to a bronze who's knack for finding trouble and then trying to outdo it often lands him in the hotbed (and the Infirmary, or Abigail's office or worse… Th'ero's office). Not even being near his thirties seems to have slowed him down and while he's become better at controlling Zhirazoth's impulses, it's never a for-sure thing. He may have been there to help S'ai with that illegal feline, given he's Thunderbird but also an ex-Beastcrafter (though as he complained much, he was from a family of runner breeders, not wild feline wranglers!). Today though he's just been on his routine sweeps and is seeking a much needed bath to ease a few sore muscles. Midway through disrobing and using a towel at least to cover himself modestly, he'll spy the pruning Wingsecond and snort, "You plan on hiding there all day?" Mr'az mutters, a touch brazen given he's outranked. "Let me know if it works, alright? Been needing a new hiding spot."

The look S'ai slants, from what little can be seen of him, is hardly amused. In and of itself is telling, since he's not known to be one for sour moods. He surfaces enough to talk without sucking in a lungful of water and huffs. The few stitches on the top of his shoulder from the bite probably shouldn't be getting wet either but he seems to not really care. "It's warm." He gives as a weak explanation. "And I have nowhere else to be in a hurry. Nope. Just taking some time to relax." Though he doesn't look it. "Not.. the best place to hide though. Place gets kinda busy."

"Not if you use the private pools," Mr'az counters with a nod of his head towards the curving wall. Not private-private but it's definitely a touch more secluded. The bronzerider shrugs but as he approaches the pool in which S'ai currently occupies, he'll take a closer look (not THAT close) at the Wingsecond. Stitches are noted but he'll hold his tongue on scolding him. "You look anything but relaxed. Something amiss?" Mr'az smirks. "Or a sharding rough night?" Is he getting closer to the issue?

There's a pregnant pause as S'ai seems to be considering his response or answering at all, but eventually the Wingsecond grunts and tips his head back to lay on the rim of the pool. A loud and weary sigh precedes, "…both. Let's just say I don't remember most of last night, I come here to relax and when I open my eyes…" One hand points over towards the racks and benches where clothes would be kept. "…my clothes are missing. Dunno if someone grabbed the wrong set or someone is pranking me. Given my night, I suspect the latter. So, being as I'm too tired to try and worry about what I'm gonna do, I just figured I'd… stay here."

Mr'az lets his eyes follow to where S'ai points at the racks and grunts softly, "Jays, you're not having a good go at this sevenday. Don't know why anyone would take your clothes — anyone's clothes for that matter. Could be the weyrbrats," he mutters and then grimaces, half out of sympathy for S'ai's plight. "In which case that's the Headwoman's and Steward's business to throttle sense into 'em. That aside," He flicks a hand. "Hangover or not, what's keeping you from grabbing a towel? That'll keep your modesty intact enough at least…" So no streaking necessary? Mr'az frowns, "Or is it more than that?"

"…/kids/." S'ai mutters, "Sneakier than tunnelsnakes." He flaps a hand dismissingly at the notion of anything else. "Eh, nah. Besides, I have no modesty. I've done worse in my life than wake up without pants. At any rate, it's the /point/ of the matter I'm annoyed at and I'm just too tired to get up and fix it right this instant. Who knows what else is in store for me today. Did I step on an eggshell and give myself bad luck?"

Mr'az chuckles dryly, "That they are." But they're children, is what his tone implies. One of those things you just smile or laugh about. At least he's not laughing at S'ai right now (but he's sorely tempted to)? "Hard to hold to modesty in a Weyr," he remarks causally as he slips into the pool, leaving his towel behind and wincing a bit as the heat of the water hits his skin. As far as bronzeriders go (or any rider, really), he's fairly lean in muscle. "Faranth if I know? When's the last time you've had a day this bad… or days, I guess now?"

"Oooh… awhile." S'ai says as he blows out a breath, "Probably weyrlinghood. Guess I got behind in my bad luck and it had to even itself out. At least today should be quiet. No more killer felines on the to do list. I haven't a clue why someone would think that was a good idea. Let's smuggle an illegal, man-eating beast all the way from the south and not expect it to get big and mean because 'you gave it love'. That's like expecting a wher to go out in the day without blinders because you asked it nicely."

Mr'az leans back against the wall of the pool and nods sagely, "What's that old, ancient saying…? Trouble comes in threes? Or bad luck… or just bad things, I guess." He shrugs his shoulders and then snorts, grimacing and lifting a hand to scrub his thumb along his jawline, which rasps with day-old stubble. "Who knows? Some folk out there have good intentions but not a whole lick of wit to go with it. That man is sharding lucky he was ratted out when he was. Don't need no felines up here in Fort! Bad enough we deal with the occasional wild canine. Folks like their curiosities though…" And often don't know they're playing with fire.

"True. Exotic pets are not my idea of a good time." S'ai says with an agreeing nod of his head. "Least there was just the one. Pretty sure it would have had a hard time of it come winter, thing was too thin-coated to handle the cold, but I would not have relished chasing it all summer. May have been golden as a dragon hide but there was next to no seeing it in the trees. Never had a pet myself. With my folks, it was their dragons and firelizards. No time for anything else and any self-respecting critter wouldn't have cared to live around all that anyway. Figure as a Beastcrafter, you'd had your share of dealing with odd creatures."

"Have to admit, that was probably the lure. The pelt and colouring. I know most folks down south hunt them for sport and to keep the numbers in check as they're dangerous and deadly pests and some of the riders here with a knack for hunting will go on occasion but I've never had the heart for it," Mr'az admits quietly and nods his head, "Most folk don't have need for pets. You have an animal cause it serves a purpose. Not that'd I'd dare compare Zhirazoth to a common beast or 'pet'." Good thing he's got control over his mental shields or the bronze would've heard that! The bronzerider laughs, "Odd creatures? Hardly. My folks were runner breeders through and through. Maybe we'd get a few wild canines or the rare crazed wherry but other than that? My Craft never really led me to find exotic creatures. Learned about 'em but never saw them."

"Hah! Got that right." S'ai says with a nod of his head. "Dragons are smarter than us some days, I'd wager. No, they haven't been beasts. They may have came from animals, but not even firelizards aren't what they used to be. Kind of a shame you didn't get to see some of the odd ones. Bet that'd be a sight. I got to meet a dolphin when I was a kid once, growing up in Monaco. I'd actually considered the Beastcraft once but never did get into it. I realized just because I knew a runner to bet on one didn't mean I probably knew how to tend them."

Mr'az laughs, "Don't let some folks hear you compare dragon lineage to animals! Some don't even classify firelizards as such." He shakes his head and then exhales softly, "Eh, I'm not to put out on it. I was happy where I was and content to dabble in runners. Needed too, given the recent plagues in the last few decades that all but decimated the bloodlines." His expression turns rather grim. "Hopefully folks breed a little more carefully now. And did you? I've heard much of the dolphins." He laughs, "Oh, there is much more to it than that." It seems though that he's had enough of a soak and pushes himself out of the water to sit on the pool's edge, his towel pulled over himself. "Don't know how you can stay soaking for so long."

"I heard about those." S'ai says with a faint frown. "Well, hopefully the breed recovers. I don't know a thing about breeding them, 'cept.. well, that part. I'll just stick to dragonriding myself. And the odd tinkering with things when I can." As the other bronzerider goes to get out, S'ai huffs and stands up partway of the water. "Yeah, I need to get out before I melt." He heads over to the edge of the pool, grabbing the towel that was at least not run off with, and shimmies himself free of the water and pulls the towel around his hips. "Well, at least it's not winter and I gotta walk for spare clothes in the cold." He says in resignation. "Shardin' kids."