| Characters | N'sir, R'sner, Shetaia, T'ven |
| Synopsis | T'ven is a troll doll… |
| Out-of-Character Date | June 15, 2018 |
Igen Weyr - South Bowl
The orange hued sandstone layers comprising the bowl walls curve gently, but ever presently in your view. Fine sand shifts underfoot, a slightly paler version of what is found upon the walls. It gives way along the eastern edge to a section of contrasting green grass where a series of cleverly engineered pipes provide water to the fenced off area of the feeding grounds, and keeps the shimmer of the shallow lake beyond from dissapearing during the dryest periods of the turn. A distinctly squared entrance farther south is the tunnel leading out to the lands beyond. Traders and tithes arrive here at regular intervals and it is not uncommon for part of the bowl to be set up with a series of tents and wagons as wares are displayed and sold. To the west, the bowl wall has been eroded by the desert winds into strange shapes. At their base are found the weyrling barracks and training fields.
N'sir is exhausted and still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he trudges out of the barracks with Elianneth in tow. Elianneth for her part is complaining loudly about appearing in public without being prepared. "Hush," N'sir grouses. "I need the light to see what is in your teeth. Open," is followed with another scrub of his hand over his eyes. When the tiny green finally complies, the tailor turned weyrling steps closer, one brow arching sharply as he pulls strand after strand of long brown hair out Elia's teeth… "Oh.. Oh.. Eli.. what did you do?" For a moment, he is utterly horrified, dark eyes darting with a wince toward the barracks. "Ssst.. oh boy."
You can run, but really you can't from the waking dawn. T'ven walks out looking like hell but again surprisingly ok with this sleep deprivation. Turns living on your own and scrounging for marks does that to a fellow. His hair has shot up in all different directions, which is strange because usually it is so long it can't stand up on end. But nope there it is, looks like someone did a butchers job on it as a tenth is its regular length. the other ninety percent has no uniform to it, it is unique to say the least. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and smiles at N'sir "Good morning you two… how did you sleep?"
"I… uh.." Wide-eyed is the best description for N'sir's face in that moment. Wide-eyed and more then a little horrified. "Listen.. T'ven.. Sweetheart.. You know I love you, right?" Uh-oh, never a good sign, that. Eli? Eli is both delighted with T'ven's hair and more delighted to be away from N'sir's inspection of her teeth. A fact made clear when the little green swivels her head around and crooooooooons happily while doing her sexy little slink over to chuff at the ends of T'ven's wild hair. «He looks BEAUTIFUL» she coos as she takes to circling around him. "Bweh." Yes, Bweh, comes out of N'sir's mouth, one hand raising to tuck his braid into the collar of his shirt just to be safe. "He… he does look beautiful, darling," is murmured to Elianneth. Sadly, he can't keep the amusement from his tone, or one hand from raising to cover the laugh spilling out.
T'ven grins at the dragon attention "And you look very very lovely this morning Elianneth." He grins the the dragon before looking back to N'sir "Maybe later today if I can find the time I can do her baby drawings for you so you can compare as she grows?" Because he is an artist after all and there is so much more to see now. At the admission of love he raises an eyebrow saying "I do, but this isn't one of those I am going to use you to make R'sner jealous because that guy already has it out for me for no real reason.." Hands folded across his chest so he still hasn't touched the debacle that is his hair.
N'sir exhales another quiet laugh, his head giving a quick shake as he drops his hand from his lips. "No, no.. We made up last night. He got to meet Elianneth." The assurance is uttered as N'sir gestures toward on of the benches outside the barracks. "Um.. Actually, Elianneth and I are giving you a makeover!" Yes, he puts entirely to much enthusiasm into those words, including a little handclap that is accompanied by Elianneth's gleeful bugling. "So.. Sit down and we'll get started." He's going to avoid mentioning Elianneth already started for as looooong as he can. "And he doesn't dislike /you/," N'sir assures. "Just the thought that you touched Lani's boobs."
T'ven tilts his head before shrugging and chuckling saying "Ok if you insist, you could of just said I had bed head." He moves and sits down on the bench so N'sir can sit behind him. He smiles softly as he hears of the lovers riding out that little storm "That is great news, I was worried there that I would have to be helping you heal a broken heart." Though if he does ever see his hair in its current state there is going to be a lot of broken hearts, his most of all. He shrugs at that last part saying "I did, though it was her choice on where she wanted it done, I would of happily put it a little higher up."
"Right. Well, it will be fine," N'sir assures. "Entertain him, Elia," is uttered before N'sir vanishes into the barracks to fetch scissors, a hand mirror and a brush. Outside, Elianneth is all to happy to entertain the Weyrling turned Troll doll, flairing her translucent butterfly wings and strutting around with an accompanying tail flick-swish-sweep. Fortunately, urgency has given Nassir's feet wings and he's quick to emerge with his equipment in tow. "It'll only take…" Oh lord help him. "Okay, lets do this." Setting the mirror well out of T'ven's reach, he gets right into brushing out the wild nest that Elianneth has made of T'ven's hair.
A shadow. That is all Toith is. Just a shadow among shadows in the pre-dawn light, sliding her way down from… well. Not her ledge, but from somewhere up high. She does not announce herself with trumpet calls, though her landing is anything but silent. A quick and solid *THWUMP* as she drops somewhat like a stone and immediately sets into that lumbering waddle-walk of grounded dragons, heading unerringly for the weyrlings. Wuffle-snort. And down again with a huff as she sprawls languidly in the dirt. Hey. Hi there. Don't mind her.
T'ven almost dashed away himself for drawing supplies but then that would be rude, though that part of his brain that he uses for art does kick in so he watches the dragon and her dancing. He never really notices N'sir leave or come back, as everything becomes very black and white so to speak. As the other green rider starts to work out a rather annoying knot in his hair he asks in more of a spacey tone that is mostly devoid of emotions like embarrassment or over excited-ness "Besides, I have known Lani for turns. She is more a little sister to me than anything else, and of course I have Nailii."
Elianneth is immediately distracted by the appearance of Toith, a husky croon exhaled in welcomed as the little green immediately heads over to greet her with her own little hip swinging sashay of a walk. «N'sir is giving T'ven a makeover and I helped!» She's clearly very proud of this fact, that much is clear when she twists around to siddle in next the considerably larger green. Of course, she neglects to mention that poor N'sir had to pull hair out of her teeth, but hey. Standing behind T'ven astride the bench, N'sir looks up and immediately smiles at Toith's presence, the hand bearing the brush raising in an enthusiastic wave. "Toith!" which is promptly followed with a snort as he goes back to brushing out T'ven's troll's nest of a head. "It'll be fine," he assures. "R'sner will warm up to you." Ah, N'sir, ever optimistic. With the hair finally brushed out, he leans back slightly, trying to hide the grimace on his face as he reachs for the scissors while depositing the brush in T'ven's lap. "Have you heard from Nailii yet? You should send a message."
If Toith were a human, rest assured her expression would be one of childish disgust. A very 'Bleck' sort of thing, for the idea of a makeover. Alas, the most she can do is express it in thought, the very notion of a /makeover/ (and the conjured image of polished nails and fancy hair and bathing) inspiring a sort of wrinkle-nosed grimace. « Better 'im than me, » she decides. Though she obligingly snakes her head a bit closer, tilting one great, whirling eye at the man on the bench. « Heh. I like it! » because why /wouldn't/ Toith like the wild, chaotic display of hair in such a state of distress, the very vision of tumbling through the woods or wrestling with a mountain lion and coming out unscathed. That N'sir is fixing it? Well. She hasn't caught on to that yet. At the moment, there's a pleased, deep-throated hum of approval for the disaster that is T'ven's hair. And really… worse things have been pulled from Toith's teeth, rest assured.
T'ven would shake his head but he is to busy watching the dragons now, "I haven't heard from her but she gets a little lost in her work, I sent a message with her. I am not worried, worst case I just go visit her when we are cleared to Between." Not the only optimists there N'sir, he raises an eye brow saying "why do I hear scissors?" There is no panic because that would wake his dragon and that is so not what he needs right now.
N'sir falls silent as he sets into cutting T'ven's hair, his teeth worrying at his lower lip. It is not until those wild strands are cut back that the curl comes out and N'sir flashes a delighted smile. Why do you hear scissors… erm. "Cause I'm making you gorgeous," N'sir assures. "Be still." Or you'll look like more of a troll doll then you already do. "Trust me." Because he is determined to fix this mess. Circling T'ven, he steps back to study his face, his lips pursing as he holds the scissors to follow the line from the corner of his friend's eye to the front inner corner of his ear. "Yeah," he murmurs to himself before setting right back in to clipping the temples close to T'ven's scalp. "Your hair has great waves," he points out. Flipping the scissors to the side, he uses his fingers to tease the wavey curls a bit higher, twisting them around so the soft strands drift over T'ven's brow. "That's so much better," he muses before repeating the process over the other ear. Elianneth is utterly delighted with the transformation taking place, crooning contentedly as she watches things go from wildly uncontrolled mess to something far more structured and neat. «It's not finished yet,» she points out. «N'sir says that that is called contouring.» She has no idea what is called contouring, mind you, only that something being done is.
« Oh. » Toith has no fashion sense. It's all about mud, and blood, and bruises and scars. So the snip-snip of scissors has her looking a little bored with it all. « Ah well. » Contouring. The word sails right over her head, and she's not about to snatch at it to figure out what it means. Instead, she'll simply pull her snout back to herself, huffs a bit, and hauls herself to her feet. It's slow, on account of the little green at her side, and she issues a quick « Res wan's t' come down, » by way of explanation. « An' he ain't got wings so… » She has to go fetch him.
T'ven doesn't really know how to take that.."thanks I think? it used to be really curly before I let it grow out.." He knows something is up now, you don't just drop probably half the mans body weight with it going unnoticed. He is eyeing N'sir, because he has come to far to stop the man now.
N'sir glances up at the exchange between Toith and Elianneth, his lips twitching in a warm smile. "You can't go with her yet, Elianneth," he points out before the little green gets to excited. Elianneth chuffs at the unwelcome news. In the wake of T'ven's remark and the light clearly dawning, N'sir exhales a 'Heh' before returning to work on his hair. "See," he provides in soothing tones. "What had happened was… Elianneth apparently thought she was helping.. And uh.. Well, she ate most of you hair." In the wake of the words, he draws the scissors back from T'ven's head and winces. "But, I'm fixing it, I promise."
Now that isn't something that happens to a guy often, and T'ven is very shocked saying in a small voice "h.ho..How bad? Is Eli ok? should we wake up Shetaia to check her?" yes his hair is important but his friendship with N'sir and by extension Elianneth is far far more. He glances at the happy green before for looking up at N'sir with those blue puppy eyes.
N'sir snorts. "Eli is fine," Nassir assures in those same soothing tones. "And so are you." To prove the point, Elianneth slinks closer, her eyes whirling vivid green as she exhales a crooning chuff at T'ven. "She thinks you look beautiful," N'sir adds as he steps back to review his handiwork. "Not bad," he decides before setting the scissors down and picking up the mirror. "Look at it?" Handing the mirror to T'ven, his smile broadens. "Very butch, it's good."
T'ven smiles at the dancing green "Ok as long as she is ok.." He chuckles and takes the mirror "It can't be that bad…" He falls silent as he looks in the hand mirror, free hand going back to the very pale and exposed neck. The hair is short on the sides with the top left wavey, he blinks and is very quiet trying to figure out the new face in the mirror..
"You look gorgeous," N'sir assures as he picks up the scissors and brush. Stepping back, he nibbles at his lip, his expression curious as he tilts his head to the side while watching T'ven. "Do you like it? I mean, it's short.. sure, but.. It shows off your face and look at those waves…" Course, Elianneth /loves/ it and obviously considers it /all/ her doing. So much so that she is strutting around the bench to whuffle and chuff at T'ven's head in a very pointedly 'LOOK WHAT I DID' fashion.
Surely Taia isn't the only dragonhealer in all of Igen. Let the poor girl sleep! Besides, with Toith gone to fetch R'sner, it's likely he can answer those 'will it kill her cause she ate 'XYZ'?' questions. He's worn that weyrlingmaster knot long enough. A shadow across the new-day light is much more visible, and heralds the return of Toith, with a passenger aboard her neck. It means her landing is properly executed this time, settling herself carefully if not /gracefully/ a few meters from the spot she'd vacated. A whuffle-snort in re-greeting and, once Res and his armload of stuff is down, she's shuffling back over to reclaim her spot. « What'd I miss? » she wants to know, twisting to peer at T'ven before eyeing Elianneth instead. Freshly washed with still-damp hair, R'sner makes his way toward the pair of weyrlings. Like déjà vu in reverse, that greenrider with a basket on his arm that announces his intentions of /feeding/ those weyrlings.
T'ven is still looking at himself before he says softly to N'sir "It looks great, just well it has been seventeen turns since I cut my hair. Takes a little getting used too ya know.." Because it is a BIG change. So big infact he is going to miss the comings and goings of people as he is trying to wrap his little mind around it.
N'sir winces visibly, one hand drifting up brush over his own very long locks. "I'm sorry, T'ven," he assures. "I was asleep and she really thought she was helping." Letting his hand drop, N'sir steps over and smooths a hand over Elianneth's head, assuring in soothing tones. "He likes it, darling, I promise." Elianneth? She's not so sure he does and is looking more then a little disappointed. Still, her neck stretches out, her snout getting up close and personal with T'ven's face and the mirror to chuff.
T'ven doesn't stay in that self reflecting for long it seems as there is a dragon in his face and he is chuckling before putting a gentle hand on the dragons snout "I do love it, honestly. And serves me right for trying that new citrus scented hair stuff." Be gives his head a little shake making the wavy cut bounce a bit "Never know I looked this good in short hair though.."
Surely Taia isn't the only dragonhealer in all of Igen. Let the poor girl sleep! Besides, with Toith gone to fetch R'sner, it's likely he can answer those 'will it kill her cause she ate 'XYZ'?' questions. He's worn that weyrlingmaster knot long enough. A shadow across the new-day light is much more visible, and heralds the return of Toith, with a passenger aboard her neck. It means her landing is properly executed this time, settling herself carefully if not /gracefully/ a few meters from the spot she'd vacated. A whuffle-snort in re-greeting and, once Res and his armload of stuff is down, she's shuffling back over to reclaim her spot. « What'd I miss? » she wants to know, twisting to peer at T'ven before eyeing Elianneth instead. Freshly washed with still-damp hair, R'sner makes his way toward the pair of weyrlings. Like déjà vu in reverse, that greenrider with a basket on his arm that announces his intentions of /feeding/ those weyrlings. (re)
Shetaia is awake, if only recently so. Black hair sticks up at all angles, as usual, as she makes her way out of the barracks. The glances over her shoulder seem to indicate she's either expecting something to follow her or making sure that it's not. The group in this part of the bowl though, she heads in their direction. There's a moment of her silence as she seems to just take it all in, T'ven with shorter hair, basket with R'sner, N'sir touching his own hair. Finally she offers in a deadpan tone "Does anyone else have a problem with how weak the cot legs are? Two of mine have broken." and she might be tall and curvey but she's not that heavy!
Elianneth immediately croons in response to T'ven, her attention immediately up to the returning Toith. <He likes his makeover!» She bugles enthusiastically. In fact, she is so enthuisiatic that her initial approach to dragon and rider is bounding before she catches herself and settles back into her sexy sashay. R'sner? He gets a whuffle-chuff-croon of greeting from the tiny green before she settles into a comfy curl next to HER HERO Toith. For his part, N'sir exhales a relieved laugh, one hand scrubbing over his face. "Thank Faranth," he sighs. He really didn't want to cut his own hair to make things even. Of course, he is completely distracted by R'sner's approach, his smile broadening and warming and then utterly melting into ooey-gooey adoration at the sight of the basket. "You brought food." And yes, he's quick to head over to meet the weyrlingmaster, although he refrains— only just barely and with an obvious strain— flinging himself at the man. "I cut T'ven's hair. Well, Elianneth /ate/ T'ven's hair and then I cut it." Again, his attention is taken by Taia, his brows furrowing mildly. "Mine seems fine, if not impossibly uncomfortable."
Toith is a hero. She might not know how she earned that title, but she'll wear it with pride. « Pft. S'right he did, » or she'd smash his face into the ground, human or no human! She sprawls once again in her spot, settling in such a way that there is space enough for Elianneth to fit in beneath a wing at her side. It's not snuggling! It's… conserving body heat or something. And yes, R'sner did indeed bring food, and he's doing a damn good job of reining in a rather smug look for having done so. "I did," he confirms, offering the basket. "Plenty of fruits and nuts, things that won't spoil. As well as some of those egg… things your cook likes to make." And probably a ton of other breakfast-y foods because Faranth knows Res couldn't leave the kitchen's buffet tables without half of it coming with him. "Shetaia," he greets as she appears. It's T'ven and his startling change that sets him back a moment, before he seems to place the face of the man on the bench. "Ah… T'ven," comes soon after that recognition, polite enough. "She ate…" a sigh, because of /course/ she ate his hair. Another squint at the recently made-over weyrling before his gaze settles on N'sir again. "Uncomfortable?"
T'ven looks over at Shetaia saying "I wouldn't know every time I try to get into mine Aloath besides she needs to sleep with me even if it is just her head. but the time we wake up I am usually on the floor next to her." He is smart enough not to make a weight comment for the moment being rather self conscious about his hair, or lack there off. He gives R'sner a friendly hand wave because N'sir asked him to keep trying to be a friend so he is.
Shetaia delivers the news about her cot legs and then moves on to different topics for a moment. Wait, back up Elianneth ate hair? She squints, taking in the form of the green with interest and a calculated eye. "Was there anything in the hair, that wasn't all natural? Herdbeast hide doesn't bother them at all it's good for digestsion but if there was anything weird about the hair she should be watched closely. " T'ven gets a glance, a once over his new hair and she nods in satisfaction. "It suits you. Much easier to care for it while also caring for your lifemate as well." she's nothing if not practical. And then she circles back to the cot legs. "Ryath, I believe, has been using them to sharpen her talons. I shall have to find an alternative source for her or a stronger cot frame."
And Elianneth? She slips right into that provided space with a happy croon. Arranging herself in an artful display alongside Toith, she cooes quietly, the length of her tail swish-swooshing over the sand in a show of contentment. For his part, N'sir is all to happy to take the offered basket, digging through it to pull out one of the eggey pies (a purely cheese and veggie version) before setting it on the bench for the others to rifle through as well. "Mm." The sound is coupled with a nod of his head as he takes a bite of the pie and chews and swallows. "Well, mostly cause Elianneth wants to keep her head on it with me," he admits. "Right," is added emphatically to T'ven. "And I'm used to a good deal more pillows." Wandering back over to R'sner, he licks crumbs from the corner of his mouth before taking another bite. "Except having to pull stray strands out of her teeth, she seems okay," he offers to Taia. Course, he immediately glances at Elianneth who is quite contently conserving body heat with Toith.
R'sner is content to stand, somewhat apart from the weyrling group but close enough to at least be included in conversation. Even if there's a twitch-twitch of his fingers and a subtle shift of his weight from one leg to the other, he's rather relaxed about it all. Well. Relaxed for /R'sner/. Arms crossed comfortably over his chest, there are no return waves for the weyrling on the bench, though Res offers a bit of a curt nod in acknowledgement. He can be nice, see?? (Yes. This is him being nice). "I can bring you more pillows…" is offered, before he's circling around to, "What is uncomfortable about your hair?" Toith is content to be the backdrop for Elianneth's display; the bouncer for her nightclub. Brawn to her beauty, even if Toith is on the smaller side for a green.
T'ven is not going to look free food like it is a trap, he digs in and finds a few pieces of fruit to nibble on while he idly shakes his head like a canine. To Taia he says "You know, there is some old rope in the lower caverns, We could fashion her a post of sorts. I had to do it for Dex and Zyn when they were still teething and clawing at things." He glances back towards the barracks… Yup she is still sleeping..
Shetaia's gaze is taking Elianneth in again, but she hmms slightly and nods. "She should be alright, but if she starts coughing and hacking she might have a hairball. She's a bit young for it but just talk her through coughing it up." yum, hairball. Assessment done for the moment she moves towards the basket, it's early she's hungry there her synergy going on. Some random thing is plucked out and she shrugs before taking a bite. "I think I'll justs start sleeping on the floor, the cot isn't going to last much longer anyway." T'ven's mention of a post of sorts intriques her. "That might work, but I'll have to see if she'll take to it."
N'sir finishes the eggey pie in record time, sucking the crumbs off his fingers before flashing a wry smile. "My hair isn't uncomfortable, at all. But pillows would be welcome," he admits. Stepping back over to the basket, he grabs a handful of fruit before wandering back stand near R'sner.
There should be enough food in that basket to feed a small army, so seconds are definitely encouraged. Res will just slide himself back to lean against Toith, arms crossed comfortably if just to keep his hands to himself. A ghost of a smile for N'sir, and a tip of his head in invitation; to lean against Toith at his side. A glance for Elianneth, and he asides in a low murmured, "I wonder how long they'll keep that up." Because eventually, she'll out grown that little spot. Scratching posts and sleeping on the ground. That gets a bit of a frown from the Half Moon weyrlingmaster. "Does the cot have a mattress?" he wonders, loud enough to carry. "Put it on the ground, perhaps." Unfortunately, he's got no advice for claw-sharpening.
T'ven nods and grins at Shetaia "Just let me know if you want help with it. Oh and did you want me to draw Ryath as she is right now so you can see the progression?" He looks over at the green snuggle pile, "I am already working on one for N'sir.." He looks over at N'sir and R'sner grinning he says "N'sir as TWO of them piled on, it still isn't enough.."
Shetaia's small pilfered breakfast item is fruit! Look she didn't notice until the second bite, who knows what's going on inside her head. R'sner and his weird almost niceness seems to puzzle the woman but she responds anyway. "Yes, I was planning on using the mattress on the floor. It wouldn't help keep her talons sharp so hopefully it will not aquire holes." T'ven's offer has her considering solemnly. "I would like one very much. She loves to lurk in the shadows though so likely it'll be interesting findind good light that she'll stay still in." she glances towards the barracks and starts moving that way. "Speaking of Ryath, it seems she's awake and requires my presence." a gesture with her half eaten fruit. "Thanks!"
A pleased smile traces over N'sir's lips, a grape popped into his mouth as he steps over and joins R'sner in leaning comfortably against Toith's side. Course, Elianneth croons at the approach, her head immediately placed within easy eyeridge scritching range. "Tch," he murmurs to the dragon. "I love cuddling up with you, silly." Smoothing his fingers over her head, he pays lavish attention to her eyeridges, nimble fingers deftly avoiding the pointy emerald tips. "I would /not/ call what is on those cots mattresses," he snorts. "Sacks of rocks, maybe, but not mattresses." It is the murmur regarding Eli and Toith, however, that inspires a smile. "I think it's adorable," he admits. "I can't wait to see it," he adds with a broad smile for T'ven. Watching Taia go, he exhales a quiet laugh, dark eyes crinkling at the corner. "She has her hands full."
Hey! R'sner can be very nice when he wants to be. And providing advice to weyrlings is just an ingrained habit, regardless that these are not "his" weyrlings. Yet. A subtle dip of his head acknowledges Shetaia's leaving. N'sir slipping over to take up a spot beside him gets a softer look, though Elianneth's response and the words that accompany it have him shifting once more; a tightness through his shoulders as his smile fades. "I'll see what I can do," comes a murmured response for the sack of rocks situation, though his gaze is turning away from the weyrling pair. Toward the basket on the bench, and then the other weyrling beyond it, eyes settling on T'ven as he appraises the artist-turned-weyrling. "A drawing?" he clarifies.
T'ven nods at R'sner "Yep, I don't do just people ink. I do all sorts, sometimes I get the dragon healers to drop me some marks to help with there sketches." He leans back and grins eating form the fruit "Photographic memory one of those healers call it, if I have seen it I can draw it." He looks at N'sir with a raised eyebrow as if a silent question has been sent before he goes back to eating his fruit. Shetaia gets a fond grin and a wave as she heads back.
"T'ven is an artist," N'sir points out as he contiues to lavish affection on Elianneth. Yes, T'ven, he SAW that look, thank you very much. "He made your painting for me," he explains before leaning forward to brush a kiss to the end of Elianneth's snout. For a few moments, he murmurs to her husky almost purring tones, words like 'darling' and 'dearheart' and 'princess' spilling past his lips before he straightens and resettles against Toith's side. Glancing back at T'ven he sticks out his tongue before exhaling a quiet laugh. "That," he adds with a relieved smile for R'sner. "Would be amazing. I swear I have bruises up and down my back from that cot."
R'sner did not see that look. Probably because he's doing a good job of avoiding everything and looking distantly toward the bowl wall instead. Twitchy fingers and tight back, lost in his head and briefly disinclined to come out of it, it takes him a moment or two before he's recognizes that words have been spoken to him. A moment of confusion, and then understanding dawns. "You do good work," he decides, after a moment of hesitation. And he means it too, and not even begrudgingly. However he might feel about the artwork placed on Lani, Res can admit that it is well done. Even if he's a bit twitchy and distracted. "The painting…" but he's momentarily at a loss for words before Toith supplies them, though Res won't repeat it verbatim. A shallow smirk and he agrees with, "The painting has captured her likeness in stunning detail." It is only in the wake of the last that the greenrider allows his gaze to slide in N'sir's direction once more. It lingers longer than it should before he speaks with a decidedly firm, "Then I'll fix it." And he will, too. He's not a weyrlingmaster here (yet!) so he's allowed to show favoritism. Right? Right.
T'ven nods and bows his head "Thank you very much." He isn't snarky either but rather it is heart felt thanks, right before his eyes go wide when Aloath wakes up and starts talking "Well I better go or there is going to be a new mound in the barracks." Because baby dragons crap! He gives the pair, (yes R'sner you too) a smile and wave before he is running off back inside.
N'sir, on the other hand, takes full advantage of the fact that R'sner is lost in his head and staring into the bowl. In this case, that advantage comes in the form of dark eyes tracing ever so slowly up the length of the Half Moon Weyrlingmaster's leaning form. That he definately appreciates the view? Clear both from the heat in his gaze and the husky croon that comes Elianneth. Of course she's making all sorts of wicked suggestions, none of which N'sir would even consider disagreeing with. So it is that, when R'sner looks back, it's to find that very graphic gaze trained on his face. Course, the moment N'sir catches his eye, he winks, his brows rising and falling in a briefly suggestive lilt before he lets his head loll back against Toith's side. "Take care, T'ven," he calls. "You look amazing." Cause the hair, man, the hair.
