Who

Ja'kai ST'd by Bailey, Br'er, Hannah, Allash, Yules

What

Ja'kai at his Ja'kai-est, oozes disdain and insults and more over everyone in earshot.

When

It is late night of the nineteenth day of the seventh month of the first turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Southern Weyr

OOC Date

 

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Baths

The steamy fog of the baths could be an entirely different world, transitioning from the well-lit brilliance of the inner caverns: a different world entirely, one wrought in dreams and humid fog. Steam lifts from hot waters, obscuring those who bathe within, drenching any who dare enter. Well-maintained, well-stocked, the baths offer pre-netted portions of soapsand in various scents, fluffy towels in orderly rows, and five separate spring-fed pools, all of differing temperature: from scorching hot to soothing chill.

It is the seventy-ninth day of Winter and 57 degrees. The autumn rain drums the weyr pleasantly throughout the night.


Evening in the baths finds one weyrlingmaster — large and dark in more than one way, that expression on his face boding ill for any who crosses paths with him — present and accounted for, in one of the hotter pools. He's scrubbing himself with a little more force than is necessary and MAYBE muttering under his breath about heathen weyrlings and pranks that involve his weyr… more specifically his designated private bathing quarters.

Speaking of people with their own private facilities: Br'er doesn't usually venture into the public baths, but sometimes these things happen. The thing about medieval spring-based plumbing is that there's very little control over the temperature, and sometimes a bath that is perfectly suited for everyday ablutions (and… other things…) isn't what a man NEEDS. And Br'er, judging from the stiff way he shucks off his clothing, has aching muscles in need of HOT water. Folding his clothing, neatly, and tucking it off to the side, he ambles over to join Ja'kai in that hotter pool. There's a vague murmured greeting.

And sometimes one's baths are just too dark to use. Case in point: Hannah's baths are tucked away into a small alcove which requires a trail of glow-light and candlelight in which to navigate. Given that certain biological changes have occurred to make balance an issue, the junior weyrwoman is relegated to the public baths until Bailey's baths are rid of their yearly sulfuric drip. Between the two of them, they have a fully functional, epically working baths. So it is with careful steps that Hannah navigates the main baths and strips of her clothing which reveals WAY TOO MUCH before she dips a toe into the colder water option. And frowns. "Ugh." Ja'kai? Br'er? Totally not noticed because balance is something to be carefully maintained. She can be heard muttering something.

Hannah mutters, "… … … ruins. … the … … … man … … … …" to herself.

Allash is a man on a mission scrubbing furiously at his hands and forearms held low over the water. As the baths become more and more crowded he surreptitiously turns just so, curve of his back hiding the scrubbing. Awww… he's shy. Or hiding something? Dark eyes dart to and fro and, a brow arcing, he opts to submerge himself so just his head is above water.

Ja'kai looks to Br'er with hostility that doesn't bother veiling itself. It would be hard to veil TAHT MUCH hostility anyhow (he's a big dude). "Wingsecond." It sounds like the most disdainful thing on EARTH, or would, if such a gravel-of-the-earth voice could do anything as girly as sound disdainful. It sounds … SMITEFUL. He hasn't quite noticed Preggo!Hannah or Furtive!Allash. Or anyone else. Yet. He backs a deliberate, blatantly obvious step back, as if the other greenrider's mere existence disgusts him. (It probably does.)

Sorry, Ja'kai: Br'er's back hurts, you're going to just have to WAIT for him to acknowledge your spitefulness. Submerged up to his neck in the deepest part of the pool (it helps that he is not a tall man), there's a lot of awkward, stiff maneuvering. There's a blissful moment of close-eyed relaxation. And then, only then, does the Nowtimer crack open an eye to stare blankly at his fellow greenrider. "Evening, Weyrlingmaster." His tone is so mild, it's borderline sarcasm. His eyes flick first towards Allash, presence registered without the furtive moments being registered, and then over to "- Hannah!" He sounds so much WARMER when he addresses her.

In her usual, brisk way, Yules stomps into the Baths, draped in a ratty old housecoat, towel under one arm and mug of klah in the other hand. How does one stomp? Probably the half-laced utilitarian boots she's wearing over wool socks. Winter sucks, okay? She comes to a halt, blinking at the rather surprising number of faces she recognizes readily (and totally NOT blushing in Hannah's direction), Yules sets down her burdens, unrobes to reveal a very unsexy bathing robe underneath. It's okay, though - she'll just take her klah, slip into the water, put down the klah, disrobe, and fling the wet garment in the rough location of where she left her towel and robe. "I'm trying something new," the Wingsecond explains to anyone who might care to bat an eye, then waves at Br'er and … well, Ja'kai gets acknowledgement. And Allash too.

Hannah is trapped in her own thoughts, easing into the not-so-awesomely-warm water with a frown of distaste. Br'er's voice draws a startled, surprised look that brings the goldrider to the moment. "Br'er!" She blinks at the greenrider as if somehow her thoughts summoned him right there, but finishes getting into the water — she did not fuss with no robe, but then the woman's weyrbred and not from the fussy now time. "Yules." Does she look longingly at the klah? Yes, yes she does. And then: "Ja'kai." It's a kind of greeting. Aimed at the big Weyrlingmaster before the tiny goldrider finds her corner. Allash's furtive movements draw her eye, but she's relegated to the colder parts. At least they aren't cold. "Say, Br'er. Remember those ruins you told me about the other day?"

Furtive Allash is suspicious, shaggy hair fanning as he dips lower in the water until his irritation flattened lips are hidden, nose and dark, peering eyes look from Ja'kai to Br'er to Yules to Hannah. Well, he' stuck NOW. Ja'kai's sneering. Disgust. for the ever-impeccably-coiffed greenrider. Stiff. Dark eyes track Yules' entry. Stompy, yet demure. Hannah, pale and unsteady. Wavering moonlight. The room really couldn't get much more knot heavy. Allash knew all these folks by name and rank and… fuck it. He stands, water sluicing off of him, his whole front and forearms, and a good splash up the side of his neck stained crimson. "Uh, evenin' all. Anyone have a good remedy for redwort stainin'?"

Ja'kai smirks at Br'er — an unpleasant expression. "Been put into too many compromising positions recently, have you? I hear those things do strange things to spines." Like make them disappear. The weyrlingmaster then generally speaking puts Br'er's whole repertoire on behavioral extinction and instead focuses on Ocelot's wingsecond with a sneer for her prudishness. "Goldrider," is the only thing hinted about with the briefest of respect, a nod towards Hannah. Then he is staring at the guard with a face that makes it seem he's questioning if the lad can be at all serious.

"Weyrlingmaster," says Br'er, far too lightly, "is there a problem?" Br'er, no. No good conversation ever includes that sentence. BR'ER. His aching back must be interfering with his diplomacy rolls :( Hannah and Yules are shot glances, one after the other: both glances read the exact same way. 'Hello. Can you BELIEVE this guy?' Possibly more conversation (ill-advised) would be forthcoming, except for Allash. At whom Br'er blinks, slowly. "Redwort… staining?" Um. "Um. Alcohol? Maybe."

SIIIIP of that klah. And to unconsciously add insult to injury, Yules sighs a little in contentment after swallowing. That's what she's talking about. The Weyrlingmaster's positive punishment for her prudishness is ignored, simply because Yules is too busy focusing on cures for Redwort staining. "Try redfruit juice. And then some lemon," is her advice, "And after it's gone, you can have a tasty snack after." It makes sense in her head, but a reminder in her head has the Ocelot wingsecond looking over at Hannah: "Sorry, weyrwoman, ruins?"

That's right. Br'er's too busy eyeballing the big Weyrlingmaster to have paid too much attention. Not that Hannah's counting or anything or shooting looks the greenrider's way that carry the weight of DAGGERS IN THE BACK. Feel that Br'er, boyo? Feel the BURN? "I was told there were ruins to go explore and I just happened to mention these ruins to someone and I wanted to get more information." Not at all said loudly and pointedly. Ruins cuts like a knife to Br'er's back, but complete with a sweet (too sweet) smile of moody goldrider. Allash's sudden question draws Hannah's attention, causing emerald green eyes to go round. "Redwort staining?" Brilliant contribution there. Oh, Yules. Torturous temptress. And Ja'kai's talk of compromising positions has the junior eyeing the man from 'neath the pale fringe of lashes. Nothing to see here. Just scrub-a-dub-dubbin'. Where's the rubber… ducky?

The Weyrlingmaster's sneer is noted. As is its liberal application thereabouts. The Ocelot wingsecond didn't rate address. The tension is palpable. And… serious? He can be -is- serious. He dips his chin, opting to submerge again, adding softly, "You've been around," translation: old, "Or been wounded," translation: clumsy. "Thought maybe…" he trails off. "Alcohol, mmhmm." Dark eyes skip to Ja'kai-snubbed Yules and her suggestion for redfruit juice and lemon, "Sounds delicious, thanks." He sidles along the edge of the bathing pool, snagging scrub brush and sand as he goes, settling near, but well out her bubble of personal space. Sans redfruit, or lemon, or -sadly alcohol- he tips a head at Yules, murmuring.

Allash mutters, "Weyrlingmaster's … … … ain't …" to Yules.

"Your stench is wafting towards my end of the pool, wingsecond." Ja'kai makes no bones about it. "Perhaps when you stop blatantly sleeping your way to the top you'll carry around the stink of a whore a little less." And then maybe he mumbles something to himself about Br'er's answer to the boy's problem. Yules? Yules exists? She's obviously an SP, so he's going to engage in some serious avoidance protocol and negatively reinforce himself over here. Hannah, too, except he has a triumphant smile for the goldrider's scorning of poor Br'er. For Allash: "Next time, maybe avoid redwort all the way around. Seems the only sensible way. No reason to be messing around in healery." His expression is disapproving: "Women's work." OH YEAH HE JUST WENT THERE.

Ja'kai mutters, "… … … … … … would … alcohol … … …" to himself.

"Hey!" Yules exclaims, and then pauses, "Oh. You were talking to him." Sorry, Br'er. Speaking of which, perhaps Ja'kai needs some S^ so Yules stops reacting to him entirely. Instead, Hannah gets a very interested look, any flush having faded into the heat of baths + klah, "Where did you hear there were ruins?" A sip of klah follows it. Making friends everywhere. Allash gets a bemused look and a very serious, "He's really not." Nope. No mutter there. Serious as the grave. Or on Pern, ::between::.

"Br'er — " Hannah starts to answer to Yules as where the ruins discussion originated as well as to get the greenrider's attention. Until she is DISSED. And that's it. Baths or no baths, the junior weyrwoman straightens her steely spine and gives Br'er a good, long look. "Br'er." Beat. The greenrider's name drops like a ton of bricks tied to his feet before getting pushed off into the deep end of the ocean. If looks could kill. "Did you just — WOMEN'S WORK?" This is what happens when so many people are gathered in one place and one's attention is pulled into so many directions. Because that roar slips out as Hannah turns 'round on Ja'kai. "I believe," husky voice is frosty, "that healing is a notable and honorable craft in which to learn." Wait. Not Br'er. Not Ja'kai. Not Yules. Not Allash. Though they all get a brief, assessing look before Hannah's back 'round onto Ja'kai. Cold — so cold the midnight voice that brings the dread of dark sepulchers — "Did you just accuse our Weyrleader of handing favors out based on who wets his wick?"

The back of Allash's neck prickles and his scrubbing stills as Ja'kai lobs that blatantly officious and offensive foray into escalating tensions. Eyes measure the distance between parties in the pool. Likely obstacles… chiefly the sluggish-making denisity of the water. A boon to be sure. Yules' mention of ruins gets a nod. Ruins? YES. let's go with RUINS. He purses his lips, eyebrows hiking, interested. 'Do tell.' "Hadn't heard o' these ruins…" And Hannah is alight with ire. Hoooboy. "Uh…" And then, brightly, "Whaddya know, I forgot my soapsand," he surreptitiously chucks the netted back into another pool where there is a splat and a surprised, muffled yelp of, "Hey!" Allash slogs out of the pool, splashing rather a lot more than he needs too with nods to each of the rankers as he passes, breaking line of sight and hopefully tensions. Or at least redirecting them. He hustles out of the water, "Ah… heh. There it is." Another bag snagged and he pauses at the top of the stairs. Wow, his entire front is red. ENTIRE.

Not a damned BEAT, Ja'kai to Hannah: "I believe I've never been obscure in my belief of that, goldrider." BELIGERANCE thy name. The weyrlingmaster doesn't hesitate in glaring frostily down his nose at the blonde, sneering his dismissal to Br'er with a roll of his eyes. "Just keep up that act, lover-boy." His voice grates as gravel vibrating and he moves past Yules as if she doesn't exist to better head towards the door. "Next time you want to fuck a healer, boy, I'd suggest you do it after he's cleaned up." That's right, Allash. 'He'.

So many tales, which one to believe? Yules looks from Hannah to Br'er, sliding RIGHT past Jer'kai and to Allash - wait, he doe… oh, he's leaving. Poor kid didn't expect this… "See ya! Hey, did anyone catch that guy's name?" Just askin'. Still, trying to break a goldrider's ice is tantamount to getting lumped in so Yules moves closer to Br'er. They have so much in common. Wingseconds. They're under the same guy - one more literally than the other - "So. How's Serval doing these days?" she asks in an imitation of bright conversation.

Ja'kai is dead. Jer'kai.

"If I could ask presents just for fucking my weyrmate, you'd be out of a job." Br'er is going to regret speaking those words in a month or two. He has NO IDEA how much he will regret those words. But for now, he just shoots the departing weyrlingmaster a smiling death-stare, and then… turns on the apology fountains, BOTH FAUCETS. "Hannah. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to be so rude. It was…" Wet hand sprinkling droplets, he hikes a thumb towards the departing Jer'kai. BLAME IT ON THE DICKHEAD. Allash, barely noted throughout this confrontation (SORRY ALLASH) gets a distracted wave as well. Innocence incarnate, he takes an opportunity at distraction to smile at his comrade in Q'fex-undering. (Except not literally.) "Serval is doing well." His voice rings with pride. "Very well. How's Ocelot faring? I've heard good things."

"I don't care what you think is women's work," Hannah hisses, a seething, writhing anger that narrows her eyes and has all of her attention on Ja'kai. "You do not go fouling the name of our Weyrleader." The words are alight with anger, filled with an unholy ire directed to the Weyrlingmaster as only a tiny pregnant woman can do. She cuts a sharp look to Br'er, "Not helping," and then starts to trudge her way out of the water. Nothing hinds a good, haughty stomp off like freaking water. Once free of the mire of churning mass, she lifts her chin — yes, Br'er, that is the cut direct — and grabs up a towel and with enough hauteur to sink a ship, makes a sopping, wet, exit. "I'd rather smell like sulfur. At least I can bathe and not rip balls and faces off…" Muttering on her way out.

Hannah mutters, "… … have … … … … … I would … for … … … Th'seus … … that … in the … and … … … him … … … … … … …" to herself.

Ja'kai mutters, "Tramps, whores … sluts. … weyr … going nowhere fast, … … count … … … somewhere." to himself.

Hannah mutters, "… better … … … good cream. Faranth, I … … for a drink, for Th'seus to stab … … in … face … then … on … … … … … in two. MEN. … … DAMN … OFF … … …" to herself.

Ja'kai mutters something to himself — this one is vaguely overhearable, has to do with sexed out greenrider sluts and pregnant goldrider whores — and then, naked-as-a-jay-bird, grabs a towel for his nonexistent hair (on the top of his head, that is) and strides out of the room.

"At least I do get laid." Technically, Br'er did not say that to Ja'kai. Technically. Funny how it seems perfectly timed to be audible just before the man exits the Baths. Funny, that. The departing Hannah, though - SHE merits a wince, and a rueful look. "I'm going to have to do something to get back on her good side," the greenrider observes - not really TO Yules, more AT Yules. Though this part is actually to the woman: "What would you give a pregnant goldrider as a peace offering?" With the Weyrlingmaster's malodorous presence removed, Br'er settles himself more comfortable in the hot bath, eyes closed. Just before lowering his head enough for his mouth to be submerged, he mutters… something.

You overhear Br'er mutter, "I really … … wouldn't … … … … I get things … … sucking … … Besides … obvious, anyway. … … … they … … … … … …" to himself.

"Hm. Well. I know this place in Nerat that makes really good pastries… considering her recent bizarre tastes…" The whole WEYR has heard about the infamous anchovies by now, right? "Maybe she'd like them with bits of seaweed or something in. That's healthy, right?" Let us leave them here, Br'er soaking his poor spine (that's what happens when you spend your days hauling firestone around, quite unrelated to anything involving beasts with two backs, JA'KAI) whilst plumbing the depths of Yules' considerable knowledge for the PERFECT Pregnant Goldrider Please-Don't-Kill-Me Gift.

NSFW Mutters that followed the scene's conclusion included in the [ !— comments — ].

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