Fort Weyr - Bathing Cavern
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.
After making sure his weyr was still available for use and not torn asunder by any of his children (or his daughter's mother), Br'yn has made his way down to the bathing caverns to try and relax in the aftermath of his visit to sandier regions. The lean bronzerider is currently stretched out in one of the pools nearer to the corner, enjoying the shade and the chance to be as far away from the outer corridors as he can be. He has his arms resting on the edge of the pool, head tilted back on the stone while his hair is soaked, free of braids and beads, pooling around his head messily. He looks almost like he might be asleep, eyes comfortably closed and chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic fashion. It's late at night and, outside, rain permeates the air, the sound of it even reaching the echoing stone down here.
The sounds of booted footsteps echoes quietly against the walls, signalling the approach of someone. It's an extremely tired-looking B'ky that wanders into the bathing caverns, the bluerider having finished his paperwork and gotten back to his own weyr. Except now hes here, in a different set of clothing even. Instead of the usual striking crimson and indigo riding leathers, he's wearing a strikingly plain brown shirt over a loose pair of matching drawstring pants. They look almost like pyjamas, only he still has his boots on. And while the clothing at least is clean, the man's face and hair is caked in dried greyish stiff that might be mud or something else. From what is visible of his arms, the dried stuff seems to be on his skin under the clothes, too. The expression on his face is distinctly displeased, as he heads for the nearest pool and begins removing clothes with a faint grimace. He apaprently hasn't noticed Br'yn, or if he has, isn't about to disturb the man.
Br'yn rolls one eye open in order to look curiously at B'ky when he hears those footsteps, his eyebrows lifting immediately upon catching sight of that grey material. He doesn't say anything at first, but, while B'ky's undressing and before he's naked, the man speaks up curiously, "What do you have all over yourself?" He moves to lean forward, shoulders curling and the plastic-covered bandage on his shoulder making a soft noise in the process. He rests his arms on his knees under the water, letting the heat curl up around his chin while he looks rather expectantly on the poor other rider.
B'ky pauses to glance over at Br'yn, shirt half-lifted to reveal that the greyish gunk is plastered in splatter-like designs over his midsection. His gaze flickers over the bronzer's bandaged shoulder a moment, likely curious about that noise, before the bluerider is shaking his head and muttering softly, "I'm.. not entirely sure," and he grimaces, and continues removing his clothing. His voice is somewhat muffled as he explains, "I have a bathing room in my weyr and, ah, the pipes seem to have become clogged with… something." Another grimace, and now naked he grabs a jar of sweetsand and slips into a pool, shaking gunk-caked hair and almost grumbling, "Faranth only knows what this stuff /is/," and he doesn't look too sure he wants to find out, really.
Br'yn winces at the thought of that, then laughs and shifts to his feet, walking to the edge of the pool once the man is naked, "Come here, let me see." It'd usually likely be considered a come on, but he mostly seems interested in identifying it. He continues after making the request, running his hands to comb his hair back to his scalp, "It's probably sleet mud or whatever they call it. Tiny particles of stone that wind up mixed with water. Grey instead of brown, since it's not dirt." He shrugs loosely, wincing minutely before he drops one hand to his shoulder and smiles an amiable smile, "That's only a guess, though. Got somebody up there looking at it?"
B'ky does frown a little self-consciously when he hears that laugh, seeming more interested in getting the stuff off him than identifying it. But he does move closer when requested, raising a crooked arm and asking with a raised, grey-caked brow, "Sleet mud? I hope the other weyrs aren't affected," nose wrinkling just slightly as he eyes a large patch of the stuff on his elbow. He means that honestly; he's not the sort that would find it funny. Well not too funny, at any rate. Tilting his head at the explanation, the bluerider nods slowly, looking momentarily thoughtful before he sighs quietly, and shakes his head, "I haven't," about someone looking into it. "I'll probably have to wait till tomorrow morning; I wouldn't want to bother anyone this late."
"You make a good point," Br'yn says calmly as he helpfully dumps shampoo onto B'ky's hair, working it in with the abrupt attitude of someone who is used to doing this for other people. Even people he doesn't completely know. He will work it in from the back of the other man's neck up towards the top so that it'll break up rather than get ground in, "What are you going to do about your weyr, then? This can't smell that great… and they're probably effected, but only if their pipes burst. It's rock dust and water; pipe breaks, dust gets washed into the pipes. Like I said, though, that's just a guess." He amusedly rubs his thumb over B'ky's eyebrow, breaking up the grey stuff there as well and careful not to smudge it into the younger man's eyes.
B'ky blinks, looking rather startled as he suddenly gets shampooed. "Uh.." he opens his mouth as if to protest, but then is getting his hair scrubbed. Well, okay then. Dropping his arm, he mumbles a faintly embarrassed, "Ah, thanks," as his eyebrow gets de-gunked. And then promptly grabs his own handful of sweetsand so he can scrub down his arms, answering hesitantly, "I'm not sure, to be honest," about what he's going to do about his weyr. It's not like Pern has plumbers. A distracted frown works its way over his face as thinks, the bluerider saying eventually, "I imagine I'll have to speak with the steward or headwoman about it." And he closes his eyes with a tired sigh, admitting, "It does smell rather strange," like damp earth, which isn't too terrible a smell, but not the nicest thing either. And as the grey stuff gets washed off him, it clouds the water, luckily being drawn away in the current of the pool, but still. Wet gunk is unpleasant, unless one likes mudbaths.
Br'yn runs his fingers soothingly through B'ky's hair, massaging along the bluerider's hairline to break up the gunk there and working his way around. He smoothes it back when he's satisfied that it's been mostly broken up and is possible to rinse out. He takes the other eyebrow, lifting both of his with curiosity, "You could always stay in the guest weyr? Or ask someone from your wing if you can stay with them until it's fixed?" He takes a small step back, motioning for B'ky to turn around, "Go ahead and rinse off your hair. I'll check your neck and back." It's all very matter-of-fact, though not unkind, and he is unbothered by the gunk that gets into the water. He puts his hands in the water to rinse off shampoo and grey stuff, his own hair starting to dry somewhat and in random, messy clumps.
B'ky's eyelids lower a little. Hey, free scalp massage! "I'll probably do that," B'ky murmurs, less concerned about where he's going to stay than having the use of his bathing room back. Not that he doesn't frequent the bathing caverns anyway, but still. He nods though, with a simple, "Thanks," before dunking himself and rinsing off. Now that the gunk is out of his hair, that tri-colored crimson, indigo, and blue braid stands out starkly against the rest of his rather unremarkable hair and pale skin. Seems the dye hasn't yet started to fade. The bluerider actually seems to have gotten the stuff off him, though as he stands back up the clouds of grey in the water take a little while to dissipate and flow off. The man grimaces slightly as he eyes the water, shaking his head, "I don't suppose you know anyone that might be able to fix pipes?" Where on Pern /is/ he going to get a plumber? The smithcrafters who installed the pipes are likely no longer at Fort. But maybe that's for the headwoman to worry about as B'ky murmurs tiredly, "I hope I won't have to move into another weyr if repairs are neccessary. I just moved back in," and he frowns, taking a little more sweetsand to scrub at a stubborn patch of still-stuck grey stuff on his elbow.
Br'yn smiles casually and with a certain level of amusement, moving his hand to his shoulder in order to massage it quietly and meander over to find his own soapsand, "Well, you can always ride over and contact the Smiths. Between someone along to help fix things up." He shakes his injured arm out in order to relax it and use his arm to help massage the soap into his own skin, starting with his chest and working his way down in an absentmindedly brusque way, "Nice hair. How'd that come about…? …and you may have to. Sad as it is. It may not take that long to fix, though, so stay positive. If you need somewhere to sleep with a place to wash, you can stay with me. Both of my sons live out of my weyr, now, and Kyra lives with her mother, so I've got an unused room and a bath. I like it here because the water never seems to get quite as hot up there." Desert in the heart, as it were. He shifts so he can perch on the edge of the actual pool, scrubbing his legs and propping his heel next to his bum in order to wash even his feet.
B'ky dunks his elbow, settling into the water now that the cloud of grey gunk has flowed away, and letting his shoulders relax. The bluerider nods thoughtfully, "Hmm, I may do that tomorrow," about the smiths. B'ky raises a hand to finger the brightly colored stripes in his hair, smiling thinly, "I met our resident hairdresser - Sabrina. Avideth thought it would be interesting to try coloring my hair," yes, he's going to blame his dragon for that. He does seem thoughtful again, for just a moment, before he murmurs, "I may try having it dyed in Fort colors for the Istan games." That, he won't be able to blame on Avideth, unfortunately. B'ky watches Br'yn for a moment, before turning his attention to his own scrubbing. Yay toes. He does nod in agreement, "Hopefully it won't take too long," and then smiles slightly, "I'll probably just stay in one of the guest rooms until then. Thankyou for the offer though." Fort does have them, and it isn't as if Avideth particularly cares about clogged pipes in the bathroom.
Br'yn just nods his head agreeably, glancing down at his back as best he can as he says, "Sure. We're all part of the Weyr, after all." He slips back into the water once it's begun to run clear again, submerging himself completely and sliding his hands over his face to get water off it when he resurfaces. Smoothing his hair as well, he studies B'ky's hair all over again, contemplating it absently, "Hm… well, Fort's colors are black and brown. I don't know how exciting that would be. We really should try to find something better. Maybe something with green." He quirks a small smile himeslf, leaning against the edge of the pool again, stretching his arms to the sides and relaxing on the nearest stone seat once more. Ahh. Comfortable. He looks thoughtfully at B'ky after that, shifting his foot slowly back and forth over the bottom of the pool; after a few moments, he says, lightly and a little playfully, "You like K'shan, don't you?"
B'ky chuckles softly, "Hmm, I don't mind black and brown. It's.." he tilts his head in thought for a few moments, searching for the word, "..dignified, I suppose." And there's a faint smile for that. "I'm sure it will look alright," and then another quiet chuckle, "Probably no worse than than orange and black," those being Ista's colors. B'ky also relaxes, the bluerider more than a little tired. He pulls a lock of his colored hair forward to examine, grey eyes unfocusing for just a moment and then he's glancing at Br'yn with a blink. "K'shan?" B'ky murmurs, raising an eyebrow slightly, before answering simply with a faint smile, "Yes, I suppose." Well, a drunken tumble in the kitchen pantry might warrant more than a simple yes, but who knows.
Br'yn shakes his head and shrugs his good shoulder, nonplussed, "I didn't say they weren't. They're just not very bright, eyecatching colors, and they are natural hair colors." It's nonjudgmental, just idle, good natured talk. He waits patiently while the other man studies his hair, then murmurs and continues to speak, his eyebrows twitching upwards minutely. He waves one long-fingered hand towards the hallway, speaking in the same calm, conversational tone, "You suppose? I'm not a teenager, B'ky. You were giving him a pretty clear look in the living caverns." He props his elbow up on the edge of the pool, burying his fingers in his hair as he props up his head and gives B'ky a look that is partial interest and partial mirth, "What do you like about him?"
B'ky nods about the hair colors, chuckling a little, "I imagine Avideth would think it was drab," he smiles, shaking his hair out and running a hand through the strands to detangle it. The bluerider seems to consider a moment before finally just shrugging slightly, "More than suppose," though he doesn't appear entirely certain, instead sighing and murmuring more to himself, "I'm not sure if it's a good idea, though." From what he's observed between K'shan and the wewyrleader, is it really surprising? Though there's a faintly fond smile despite that as he answers quietly, "Hmm, everything?" and he has to chuckle, "He's a great deal more sensible than I am, at times." Especially when alcohol is involved. But B'ky doesn't say that part aloud.
The bronzerider tilts his head back to look at the ceiling, turning it to the side a little as he thinks things over, though it's hard to tell exactly what his thoughts are until he speaks, "Hmmm… I'm not sure that's enough. People only say everything when they can't think of very many specific things." He stretches his arms out, folding them over the ledge again but keeping them bent, head still leaned back, "I don't mean to be forward. I was curious, especially considering the little I know of K'shan." He lifts his head again, tucking his chin down so that he can look at B'ky again through half-lidded eyes, "There's a difference between wanting to be good friends and wanting to be romantic, after all."
B'ky tilts his head, eyebrows rising a little, though perhaps oddly enough, he doesn't say anything in protest, instead looking at Br'yn for a moment. And then the bluerider's eyebrows draw together a little as he asks quietly, "What little you know about him?" And B'ky looks away, frowning slightly, "I only met him recently," and he falls quiet a moment, before admitting softly, "I don't… usually worry about the difference." Not lately, anyway. Especially not after the night in the tavern. But he does turn back to regard the bronzer, asking, "Is there… something I should know aout him?" Because the /last/ thing B'ky needs right now is another B'miel.
Br'yn blinks at B'ky curiously and gives a small laugh, shrugging nonchalantly, "I don't know very much about K'shan, B'ky. I'm not telling you he's a bad person. I know that he and Ma'kai were together. I can only guess at the rest, but… I don't get the impression he intends to be your lover. Your friend, perhaps, but beyond that…" He shrugs again, more strongly this time, and runs his wet fingers through his hair to get it from drying down over his forehead, "I can't say for sure, but I know what it's like to want someone and then be blindsided. If the difference between friends and lovers doesn't matter to you, then ignore what I said. I just didn't want you to wind up in an uncomfortable position." He scratches the side of his neck, his body language suggesting a certain level of awkwardness that is backed up by the heat in his tanned cheeks.
B'ky nods at the mention of Ma'kai, frowning just slightly. He does know about that, at least. Though the bluerider actually chuckles softly, "I'm fairly sure of his intentions," and here he looks faintly amused. His expression turns a little sad though, as he murmurs, "So do I," about being blindsided, but his own shrug is slight, "Whatever happens, happens." B'ky is thoroughly weyrbred; he likely has more than a few casual friends with whom he also shares a bed after flights, and sometimes just because. Though he nods, and then smiles slightly at the bronzerider, regarding Br'yn and saying without any hint of awkwardness, "I'm more worried about hurting him, to be honest," and here the man does frown a little, brow faintly creased, "It doesn't help that the rumors going around have everyone thinking I slept with the weyrwoman." He brings a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose, sighing tiredly.
Br'yn shakes his head, giving B'ky an amused look, though it's mingled with sympathy, "No, I doubt that does help… and I'm sorry. I know I'm likely out of line. I'm starting to feel like I'm trying to be everyone's dad." That thought makes him look tired and he ruffles his fingers through his hair, messing it up horribly, but not appearing overly concerned. He shrugs after a while, straightening to a standing position so he can stretch his back, resting his fist against the lower curve until a couple vertebrae pop, "I'm not surprised. I get the feeling, especially after what happened with Ma'kai, that he just want someone to pay attention to him. Heartbroken people usually do." He contemplates that for a while, eventually shaking his head and flashing another faint smile, "I didn't really mean to bring it up."
B'ky laughs softly, tilting his head to regard the bronzerider, "Everyone's dad? Br'yn, you can't be more than a few turns older than I am," and the bluerider chuckles some more, meeting the bronzer's gaze with an amused look of his own. B'ky is 32; he's not exactly young! But still smiling, he assures, "You're not out of line. I appreciate the concern." And then B'ky lowers his eyes to some point faraway, seeming to consider seriously for a moment, before saying, "Hmm, heartbroken? You're… probably right," and he sighs quietly. B'ky's a rebound! And he probably knows it, too, poor man. "He and I both, I suppose," and there's a faintly rueful look on his face. After all, there was a reason he was trying to charm everyone's socks off when he returned to Fort. The bluerider just shakes his head, though, glancing back to Br'yn and saying honestly, "It's alright. I do appreciate it." And then, really, he has to chuckle, "It's probably not worth worrying about. I'm just glad he didn't punch me when I kissed him earlier." Yes, very /very/ glad.
Br'yn laughs in response to that, shaking his head and splashing a little water in B'ky's direction, "I know. I know. I'm just used to being the one to take care of other people. I did it in my Weyrling class, I did it as Weyrleader at Igen, I did it as Wingleader here, Weyrlingmaster, father, even with my friends. It's a habit." He sits down abruptly on the stone seat in the bath, huffing and folding his arms on the ledge again while he leans back against it, folding one leg over the other, "No, I don't think he'd punch you. Not in the living caverns, anyway." His smile becomes a bit more of a grin, the bronzerider resting his knuckles against his temple, hazel eyes amused, "I hope it works out to something, at any rate. I get the impression you guys could use this time, whatever it is." The man isn't really in a position to give anyone relationship advice, in all honesty, but at least he cares enough to try.
B'ky chuckles, raising an arm in a passing attempt to keep from getting splashed. Not that it makes any difference, but hey, he's already wet. The bluerider's eyebrows go up a little and then a little more at the list of positions, "Wingleader?" he murmurs curiously, and then he quirks an eyebrow, "Weyrlingmaster? I've been gone from Fort for some time. I hadn't realized." But he does smile at the bronzerider, "It's a good habit to have." He sounds approving, at least. After all, isn't that how bronzers are supposed to be, according to all those old songs? B'ky has heard them all, too. The bluerider then shrugs lightly, repeating softly, "Whatever happens, happens." But B'ky is then tilting his head to regard Br'yn, asking, "What about you? Is there anyone you're particularly fond of?" It's a fair queston, after all of that.
Br'yn blinks, his skin suddenly flushing and he shifts his hand to scratch the back of his neck, tilting his head to the side, "Ah, I didn't mean to sound pretentious…" He doesn't expound upon his positions for exactly that reason, just leaning on his palm and smiling at the seeming approval he receives, "Thanks. I just wish it didn't mean being a nosy bastard." He winks playfully at the bluerider, shifting again in order to rest his heel on the edge of the stone seat, knee peeking from the water like the back of a turtle. He is surprised when the question is turned back to him, laughing with a touch of nerves, "No, not really… there have been a couple possibilities and they never worked out. I've had a hard time finding anyone after my last weyrmate, Z'ran, left. It's a cliche story, but we were together for nearly five turns. Even though it's been a while, I have a hard time moving on after living with someone like that."
B'ky smiles with some amusement at that flush, the bluerider chuckling softly, "You didn't," about sounding pretentious. The amusement remains in his eyes as he just shakes his head slowly at Br'yn and that wink. But B'ky's expression then turns sympathetic, the man saying softly, "I'm sorry to hear that," and there's a quiet sigh, "I know how you feel." No longer looking at the bronzer, B'ky murmurs, "I don't know if I could ever be weyrmated again, not after B'miel," and a brief flash of pain flickers across his face. "He's why I left for Xanadu instead of returning to Fort, after I went on.. vacation," and now there's guilt there, in his voice, the bluerider closing his eyes for a moment.
The bronzer shifts to his feet in a sudden sound of rushing water, brushing his hair away from his face and moving to climb out of the pool, "I wouldn't say that. I'll love Z'ran for the rest of my life, I imagine, but that doesn't mean you can never love someone else. It's all about how you think of it. Tell yourself something won't ever happen and it won't." He moves towards the towels, tugging one free of the stack and sliding it around his hips before he takes up another and offers it to the younger man. He'll wiggle it, if need be, smiling at him warmly, "Either you think of B'miel as something you'll never have again, or as something that was meant to teach you what to do next time."
B'ky opens his eyes at the sound of water, tilting his head and then smiling slightly. He takes the offered towl, getting out of the pool as well and drying off. The bluerider pushes wet hair off his shoulders, the pale strands dripping water down his back, though not yet long enough to hide the odd dimple just beside his spine. He's shaking his head, though, murmuring, "Love, perhaps." Weyrmated? Not so much. But there's a quiet chuckle, B'ky saying, "If there is a next time, I'm not sure I could survive it," and he returns the warm smile with one of his own, before moving over to collect his clothes and getting another towl to dry his hair after he wraps the first one around his waist. "I've stopped worrying about it," he adds with a lsight shrug, donning clothing once he's dry enough and then turning to incline his head at Br'yn, "I'll see you later. Goodnight," and he heads off, probably to find a guest room or something.
"Hey, life is about living, not surviving," Br'yn says in an amused tone, though it sounds more tired than it should, and he rubs himself dry as he can. He has his own clothes folded to one side and will dress when he is ready to as well, but in the meantime, he waves to B'ky, "Good night, B'ky. Good luck with your plumbing. Try not to get covered in that stuff again." He grins a bit, then goes back to drying himself off; he has a lot of hair!
