Shall we shower? {K'lir//Tsa}

[Neeuqtar]

Well, this will make a bath difficult, Yn're sighed, standing at the mouth of his small weyr as rain sheeted down. It did nothing to help the heat or humidity, the cool rain steaming oh-so-imperceptibly off of the sun-heated stone of the Weyr. He absently braided his hair as he examined the wet grey world outside. No need to leave long hair down in this weather, not when the pouring rain would leave it tangled and intractable. Better to be less beautiful for a day and save the hours of brushing, he reflected, wrapping the end of his long braid in a thong of leather, letting no stray hairs escape the confines into a ragged tail. Sleek and smooth was the only way Yn're would allow his hair to exist.

We don't have to... go out there, do we? Yukasth asked, timidly, her nose touching the back of his legs, hot breath all the more uncomfortable because of the humidity. Yes, love, of course we do. Do you not want your bath? Yukasth squirmed uncomfortably. Her tail curled around her lithe form, wings smushed against her back. She was not a happy dragon. Yes... but-- but-- what if it-- --her voice fell into a terrified whisper-- booms? Yn're turned and rubbed her fondly, on the leaf-shaped marking that graced her narrow face.

"If it 'booms,' as you so charmingly put it, we will take refuge again. But you must be itchy, beloved..." he said soothingly, his teasing smile gaining a flood of adoration. Yuka would not have faced the rain and the potential for thunder for any lesser cause than being ever with Hers, and Yn're knew it. Reveled in it. She was his most-beloved, after all. It will not be much of a bath, she offered timidly. More of a shower. Yn're laughed at that, fondly rubbing her behind her headknobs. "Indeed! Then shall we shower?"

The green nodded, an oddly human gesture, then swept past Yn're, great wings snapping open into the pouring rain with their own musical thunder, Yn're snagging a ride on her foreleg. In moments his thin clothing--nothing but trews, after all--was soaked through, but though the rain was cold, the air was warm, and the hot-spring lake warmer still, steaming in the cooler air. Yukasth whirled through the air, tucking into a barrelroll that she slowly opened into a corkscrew, before letitng herself stall in the air and back-sliding into a backflip-twist, skimming the Weyrcliff as Yn're whooped in joy. The air was their element, even if rain was not, and the two swept through it with the ease of endless practice.

With a twist, Yuka curled towards the lake, backwinging to a graceful (if not very quiet) landing, keeping the foreleg on which Yn're clung thoughtfully lifted. Once her rider was free, the green dragon plunged into the water, keeping to the shallows so that she wouldn't have to worry about drowning, and shook of the rain that poured down her sides. She gleamed as if she was clean already, though the water that sluiced off of her sides bore at least a sevenday's worth of grime. Yn're stretched, eyes scanning the mostly-still Weyr. A few forms darted across the 'Bowl--Candidates, going to their Touching. Hence the irked queen.

A few conversations flicked between dragons, but nothing interesting, and Yn're turned away with a shrug. It wouldn't surprise him if Tsakyyth and K'lir showed up--he was more surprised they weren't here already. Tsa and Yuka were still as inseparable as they had been in the egg, though Yukasth did seek her comfort mainly from Yn're, rather than her sister. Shall I start on your back? he asked gallantly, scooping up a handful of sand and snagging the bristled brush he'd stocked in a cranny. It was... well, mostly dry at least. Neck, please, Yuka begged, bringing her head down, while still trying to keep an eye out for Tsa. Yn're fought a silly smile, as he so often did around Yuka.

"As you wish, lady green," he replied gallantly, setting to work...

[Symphony]

It was raining outside. K'lir did not like being outside in the rain as the end result was him typically resembling a drowned rodent of some kind. He was a small individual, with dark brown hair and wide amber eyes. The comparison was not so unusual as with a thin frame and a very short build, he was easily overlooked most of the time. When his hair was wet, the chin-length strands stuck to his face, and he looked more feminine than any man of his age ought. His eyes were a touch too wide, his eyelashes long and curled, his shoulders not nearly broad enough, his wrists and ankles too thin, his hair too long and full; from behind he looked like a girl who was lacking in curves, and the mistake had been made on more than one occasion when he was young. The fact that his better half was a green didn't help to dissuade people from making the mistake, though it had lessened in recent years thanks to the fact that K'lir was a grouch. That and remembering dragonriders and their names was expected around Sanctum -- there really weren't enough people for it to be too difficult to remember.

As was typical of him whenever it was raining, K'lir found himself lounging in his weyr. Lounging in that instance happened to mean that he was lying around in his furs, contemplating the virtues and sins of a nap, the great debate which had been going on since the rain and storms started. He was a primarily nocturnal being by choice, though his responsibilities had him up and moving in the sunlight. More than once he had shrieked that he was allergic to day, but for some reason no one took him seriously. That fact used to bother him but he'd accepted it over time. No one really took him seriously because he was a big-mouthed twit with an attitude problem. At least he understood their motives.

He was just about to drift off to sleep when his half-nap (which, at that point, consisted of him closing his eyes and wishing really hard to be asleep) was interrupted by the light lilt of Tsakyyth's 'voice' which always had a melodious edge to it. Even when she was angry, she sounded somewhat musical. The more sweet she sounded, the more dangerous she probably was. At the moment, though, despite the musical edge to her speech, Tsakyyth sounded more demanding than anything else:

Yukasister is having a shower, Lirmine. I see her. Get up. You can nap later, I won't bother you then. Let's go see Yukasister.

Shortly after having Impressed Tsakyyth, K'lir realized something very important in dealing with her. Tsakyyth was always right. If a situation arose where she happened to be wrong, see previous statement: Tsakyyth was always right. Arguing with her was pointless as it did nothing but make her agitated, and an angry Tsakyyth resulted in a guilty, sulking K'lir, who was extraordinarily fond of his dragon. He hated it when she was angry with him, and often went out of his way to make sure that she did not become that way. Fortunately, her devilish charm made it easy to agree with just about anything she wanted. On the rare occasions (such as that moment) where she asked something he didn't want to do (like going out in the rain), K'lir often caved just to avoid having to argue with her. He always lost anyway. He was wrapped around her claws from the moment she hatched. Turns hadn't changed that.

A shower, Tsalove? K'lir swung himself to his feet and stretched before pulling on a tunic. It fell low on his legs, almost to his knees, but it was better than wandering around shirtless. He had no intentions of putting on full riding gear, as Tsakyyth's words indicated Yukasth was nearby. It was raining too much for her to have gone very far. He didn't intend to be going between. He padded silent as the grave across his weyr and over to Tsakyyth, who curled gracefully up at the end of her weyr before crooning.

A shower, Lirmine. She is at the Weyrlake. I will take you. I want to see Yukasister.

Unfortunately for K'lir, he did not even get to situate his straps properly before Tsakyyth swept out of the weyr. In the air she was awkward, especially when she wasn't flashing between instantly, but she was more than capable of gliding down from her weyr (which was one of the highest ones) to the Weyrlake without trouble. Even in the rain. She swept to the edge of the Weyrlake and landed with practiced ease, and once she reached the ground all of her grace returned full force. She curled around for K'lir to dismount and then curled at the edge of the lake. She'd been bathed the previous evening, as K'lir (having been raised at Sanctum Weyr his whole life) had anticipated the rain. Her eyes whirled pleasantly as she crooned to Yukasth and her rider.

This rain is annoying.
A little water never hurt anyone, Lirmine. You bathe often enough. Why is this different? I want another bath.
But yesterday evening --
Yukasth is getting a bath! Right, Yukasister? Lirmine, I want a bath. Yn're, tell him?

Yn're. Yes, Tsakyyth actually called him by name. Were it not for the fact that he was her sister's bonded and able to talk to her, she probably would not have, but he was special in his own way for those reasons. His name stuck out with her. His and K'lir's; no one else was remembered.

[Neeuqtar]

As attuned to Tsakyyth (almost) as Yukasth, Yn're fought back a grin at the one-sided argument between K'lir and Tsa. The older man was as devoted to Tsakyyth as he himself was to Yukasth--the end of the argument was foregone, so he let her voice drift to the back of his mind with the ease of practice. It was so like Yuka's voice, the same "color" that he associated with each dragon, but much more demanding, in control. The poised warrior-maiden, as opposed to Yukasth's dainty lady. The green dragon sighed in contentment as Yn're scrubbed away old oil and dirt, as well as the dead skin.

She didn't even have to duck her head to rinse off the sand and grime; the rain sluiced it all away, pouring from the sky with enough volume that Yukasth had to close her first eyelids to keep it out of her eyes. Almost purring, she leaned into the pressure Yn're put on her, the rough grains a pleasant buzz against her skin. Powerful muscle, built from Turns of such labor, stood out against Yn're's skin as he abraded away oil and dirt, applying his strength to keep his darling safe. He was sweating--the familiar prickle touched his skin, but was rinsed away instantly.

He took one hand off of Yuka's neck to wave as Tsakyyth and K'lir came in for their usual masterful landing--the twin of his beauty was goddess of land and of between, while Yukasth held the skies. Never had a better partnership been created, as far as he was concerned. Yn're stooped, grabbing more sand to scrub Yukasth's neck, and the difference in her hide was apparent. She almost glowed... If you are going to Rise at the same time as Tsakyyth again, I may have to lock myself in a closet, Yn're grumped to the green, who trilled back at her identical twin.

"A little water never hurt anyone, Lirmine. You bathe often enough. Why is this different? I want another bath... ...Yukasth is getting a bath! Right, Yukasister? Lirmine, I want a bath. Yn're, tell him?" Yn're had to laugh at that. "Do not drag me into this, Tsa-darling! You already know K'lir is as much your willing slave as I am to your Yukasister," he chuckled, almost at the same instant that Yuka replied with a grave, I'm getting a shower, sisTsa. Yn're smiled and shook his head, scrubbing along Yukasth's neck-ridge as the dragon eagerly stretched her neck out.

"Come on, K'lir," he teased, putting the lie to his earlier words. "You cannot get any wetter, I am certain! And you know they love to help groom each other..." Yn're brandished his brush in some sort of gesture that was entirely unhelpful but intended to be tantalizing, before swinging himself up to straddle Yukasth, long dark braid dangling into the water as he made sure to get to all the itchy-uncomfortable places on Yuka's long, graceful neck. I am sure that we will get clean very fast, sis'lir, Yukasth said hopefully, using the pet name she had contrived early on for the man, a shortening of "sister's-K'lir" that never failed to amuse Yn're.

Feeling playful despite the rain--for were not Yn're and sisTsa there to protect her from booming things?--Yuka reared, fanning her beautiful wings in a spray of water, the drops mingling with the rain for a momentary torrential downpour on both Tsakyyth and K'lir. The trill that came from her throat was no less than bubbly laughter, as her upward plunge caught Yn're entirely off-guard, sending the handsome young man flying through the air with an undignified yelp, flopping into the water some meters away. Yuka! he sputtered indignantly, before ducking underwater and swimming to tweak her tail.

The green squeaked, whirling, though Yn're had been careful to let her know it was him. The first time he'd done that... it had terrified her... a sudden wicked idea came to him. "Tsa-- toss K'lir in! Perhaps it will ease some of his dour mood," he sent to his dragon's twin, all innocence as he came back to Yukasth's head, intently scrubbing the underside of her neck, while the green all but danced in anticipation. Oh, playing! I like playing, sisTsa!

[Symphony]

He is only my willing slave so long as I can outwit him, came an immediate response, but it was said with a hint of affection. There was really no denying who held the reigns between Tsakyyth and K'lir; she was clearly in charge and he never had a problem with doing what she wanted. Sometimes he might make her explain why she wanted it but eventually he always caved. The irony of the situation was that K'lir was probably one of the most stubborn individuals anyone could ever find and no one but Tsakyyth could elicit such cooperation out of him. His obnoxious behavior was the primary reason he had never managed to gain any rank despite being one of the senior riders - any rank of any kind. Not that K'lir really wanted any kind of rank but he was impossible to deal with. Telling him to do something was like trying to tear down a mountain. He responded okay to being asked, but Tsakyyth was the only person he was usually willing to truly do as he was told for. Sometimes, she was rather demanding, too. Not that K'lir minded being bossed around by Tsakyyth. She was truly his only love.

Still, he turned to Yn're with a thoughtful look. His arms folded over his chest. The argument that he was drenched would have been a good one if he wasn't lazy, but the fact that he was soaked didn't detract from him having bathed Tsa the previous night. "You can bathe her. I bathed her last night. She'll get spoiled. Well, more spoiled," he teased back, with a casual glance cast toward the green dragons. No matter what anyone said about how similar their coloring was, he could have seen both dragons from afar and known Tsakyyth instantly. She was blatantly more graceful on the ground, true, but she also held a composure that Yukasth didn't; an almost primal regality, in her own way. His brother Kaliran would have called it the difference between a glow and a fire, but K'lir wasn't very good with metaphors. Most of his comparisons in his mind were actually between Yukasth and Tsa anyway. They were his metaphor for everything.

Casting a glance to Yukasth, K'lir started to respond only to be drenched by water, much to Tsakyyth's amusement. She had the foresight to curl her head out of the way, which made most of the water completely soak K'lir from head to toe. He hadn't been dry to start with, but that efficiently chased off any of the naptime grogginess. He was wide awake and most efficiently looked like a startled feline, clinging to Tsakyyth who was rumbling her amusement. He turned back to Yukasth and scrunched up his nose slightly. Anyone else and it most definitely would have been a glare. Turns ago he would have blown up. K'lir had grown up some since he was a child though. He'd grown into adulthood. He was still stubborn beyond words, but he wasn't impossible.

At least, not until he was caught by the back of his pants.. and literally tossed into the Weyrlake by Tsakyyth, who thought the idea good fun. He made a light splash and the green curled around, rumbling her amusement.

He won't thank us for that. Lirmine, Lirmine, do cheer up, you're being sour. I'll keep throwing you in if you don't agree to give me a shower too! she called to her rider, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she'd just let K'lir know where the instruction came from... though he could have picked up on it himself; he wasn't entirely unintelligent and she had utter faith in his ability to decipher the obvious if nothing else. Besides, if Yn're wanted to play, she was more than willing to involve him in games... and playing with her Lirmine's firey temper sometimes resulted in burns. He hadn't blown up in a long time though, she was proud of him. He'd managed to start plotting evil things without yelling. Quiet was good.

Spluttering, K'lir surfaced and waded back Tsakyyth. However, it wasn't her he turned to. It was Yn're. Rather than say anything though, he retaliated by grabbing the other greenrider and forcefully pulling him into a kiss. He wanted to play, fine. K'lir would play.