Difference between revisions of "Logs:No Hot Chicks"

P'ax laughs. "You know, that part I think I can wholeheartedly get." The mouthy-want-to-kill-him-thing, presumably. "Yeah, I'm coming," he agrees and tags along with the bluerider across the length of the bowl and down the lake shore.

The fenceline has the dubious honor of being N'thei's throne this afternoon, him perched on the upper rail, boots hooked two rails lower, jacket draped next to him. In the feeding grounds, there's recently been some sort of uproar, though Wyaeth doesn't seem to be part of it-- he's on the lake side of it, gleaming from fresh oil, looking proud of himself, which might have something to do with the trail of blood going from fence, over sand, and then disappearing off somewhere, though there's no carcass in evidence. The rider looks placid, the dragon looks pleased, generally neither of these things bode well.

"I swear, sometimes I wish I was his size, just so I could beat him up. Just once. One good thrashin' would kick most of his bad habits," Z'yi darkly states to P'ax. His bald head shakes, once, and he claims a section of the lakeshore as his own. His straps - the ones he was carting along with him - are the first things down. He kicks off his boots, and glances up to notice-- "N'thei. Sir." Saluting is reflex with this particular man, and Z'yi finishes that before continuing with his methodical stripping-down-to-his-skivvies. Someone's going for a swim! To P'ax, "Though I think that I wouldn't trade lifemates with you any time soon. No offense, man."

P'ax smirks. "Could have Yyth do it," he offers. "But she might now leave much of him for you when she was done." Once Z'yi stops, so does he, casually toeing out of his boots as well and pulling off his riding things. He turns to peer at N'thei and nods his head respectfully to the bronzerider. "Don't think anyone ever would. She's always been a bad egg." Why is he so proud about this, again? "Race you in?" P'ax offers as soon as he's out of his clothes. And really, it's too bad Yyth isn't here to admire that blood streak, she'd be very proud of Wyaeth.

The words "fucking hell" do not actually have to be uttered sometimes. Sometimes, like now, they're just written all over a person's face. Though N'thei drops a nod to acknowledge the salute, less so for P'ax's version of greeting, more just kind of a general glance in his direction, his pleasantness ends about there. They're getting undressed; they're not intensely beautiful women (or even very slightly ugly ones, which would be okay under the circumstances); he reaches for his coat pretty much straight off.

Z'yi gives a soft snort of amusement. "True." Regarding Yyth and pieces of Raith. "I don't know, though. He never ceases to surprise me in what he can get himself out of." Though he's always the one that /makes/ the huge conniption in the first place... N'thei isn't given a second glance (the salute's enough, dammit), and the weyrling heads towards the water in a leisurely pace. "You can run," he advises P'ax, "But I know that damned water's still cold." He's not going to risk it, in other words. But a smirk's there, slightly touching at one side of his mouth.

P'ax isn't fussed by N'thei's distaste. Probably because he doesn't notice it, but possibly because he's used to the antisocial rider's ways. Sure, that's it. "Nothing for the cold but to get it over with," P'ax opines. "Don't tell me you're going sissy on me now?" Yep, he does run, or at least jogs down into the water. He picks up speed only when he's approaching the lapping waves, running in until running becomes ridiculous. That's when he simply dives in. Crazy, sheer crazy. Or just a guy who's used to cold water, perhaps.

N'thei could stick around and be an ass and rain on their splish-splashy parade. But he doesn't. Because, after years and years of this crap, he might actually have learned something. With Wyaeth already oiled, with there being little chance that /girls/ are going to show up and repeat the P'ax-Z'yi performance, he hops down from the fence, collects up his gear, and goes off to do whatever N'thei does all day. Probably it's not fit for public knowledge anyway.