Logs:Twinzoned
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 10 July, 2016 |
| Who: J'nason, T'zur |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Benden Weyr, Ista Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The morning after Aidavanth's flight, T'zur and J'nason wake up with a pair of twins. |
| Where: Baths, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 3, Turn 41 (Interval 10) |
| After the flight, the pair of foreign riders ended up at the bar again, by coincidence. There was some ribbing over T'zur's still bleeding lip (earning him a bit of sympathetic murmuring from a pair of twins) and J'nason's part in providing it -- drinks were exchanged in apology and, one thing leading into the next, the morning sees them waking up in the twin blonde's small room, complete with fuzzy-mouthed hangover. T'zur groans. "Dying." J'nason wakes up at the sound of the other bronzer, his blond hair all askew on the pillow of the blond. Rather then try to sit up he'll do the most NATURAL THING in the world, he's going to bring his particular twin closer and try to kiss her neck to wake her up. Nevermind he doesn't know her name, obviously this is the best fix for his hangover. "Shhhhhh...." Clearly, not taking T'zur's dying seriously. Waking up his twin is about the last thing on T'zur's mind right now. Another pained groan, and he pushes (scrambles?) to the edge of the bed, looking pale. There's rustling as his twin stirs behind him, just in time to see the Bendenite spill his guts out all over the floor. "EW! That's gross! All over my things!" well if her sister weren't awake she will be now, with that horrified exclamation. "Shit man," this falling from J'nason's lips as his oh-so-soft twin goes from sleepy-giggle to sitting upright and sweeping her hair out of her eyes. "Ewwww!" Her voice is an echo of her sisters and she shoves against the blond-haired rider to slip off the otherside and pull a blanket over her. "Hey, hey now..." J'nason rolls himself to a sitting position and brushes his hair out of his eyes as he looks over. "Man, you're blowing it." "You have blown it," T'zur's twin declares, hands on her hip, looking at her sister. "Next time, throw up on your things," is added with a flick of her blonde hair. Stumbling to his feet, T'zur reaches out a hand to the wall to steady himself for a moment, giving a bleary look towards J'nason that is not the least bit apologetic. "Drink?" because clearly that's the solution to this super awkward scenario. "She.... Sheena." J'nason snaps his fingers as he dredges up the name of his bed-mate, and looking mildly hopeful that she's not going to take on her sister's ire? The way she's looking disgusted is not at all helpful so instead the man pushes himself up off the bed. He'll smile winningly at her, "Next time, just us?" But he won't wait for her to answer as he sweeps up his pants and shoves himself into them. They get left undone as his shirt gets swept up onto his shoulder. "How about a bath first man?" Mildly said to T'zur as J'nason rounds the bed and eyes the mess on the floor. "Get your pants on, we'll... send someone for this." Because J'nason SO IS NOT cleaning it up. T'zur tries -- or at least his face scrunches up for a moment while he's looking at Sheena's sister, struggling to remember her name -- at least until he winces, clearly remembering his split lip, touching it with a wince and a scowl that earns a second wince. "Fuck," he says, expressively. Pants? Oh, yeah. The Bendenite grabs the wrinkled looking pants and shoves them on, finds his shirt (it's probably his, anyway, it mostly fits even if he doesn't button it up). "Fine, fine. Bath, then drinks." He casts what's meant to be a charming smile over his shoulder (ruined perhaps by his swollen lip), "Thanks for the great night, girls." There! Twins are so easy to avoid naming. "You are clueless man." J'nason shakes his head - clearly his hangover isn't to the extent of the younger rider. Without a single bit of self-conscienceless over his naked upper half and open pants he hooks an arm over the other rider's shoulders and pushes him out of the room. (Hopefully T'zur doesn't mind looking completely gay for a bit~ J'nason sure doesn't.) "Baths." Eyes roam the empty hallway, "We'll have to find directions. THIS WAY." So confident. They'll go that way and hopefully find someone to point the way? "I'm fucking hungover is what I am. And," T'zur gives his fellow bronzerider a dark scowl, "You fucking punched me." He tentatively touches his lip, makes a noise, and drops his hand. "Lucky you missed the nose, or we'd be having a second round this morning." He seems happy enough to follow in J'nason's wake, mostly because he seems so utterly confident he's going the right way, even if he might not be. "Well." J'nason shrugs at T'zur's ire. They're BFFs now, what's a little punching between friends? Right? RIGHT. "The goldie told us to stay out. It's the polite thing to do. Fucking flights are always the most fun." He's TOTALLY grinning like getting into a post-possible-sex flight was one of the BEST ways to end a night. They turn a corner and there are suddenly PEOPLE, "Heyo! Baths?" His smile is dazzlingly confident even this early in the morning. Probably because he's showing off his chest. A weyrperson eyes the two strangers, shakes his head in a I-don't-want-to-know manner, and points. "Thanks much man!" A wave adds to the thanks. The look T'zur gives J'nason is one of disgust. Yeah, BFF's all right. "Do you always do everything a woman tells you?" he mutters, shaking his head. When the local points them in the direction of the baths, he picks up his pace, stepping ahead like he's leading the way. The baths aren't wholly empty, but there's not a lot of occupants, and the Bendenite begins stripping immediately, eyeing the steaming baths with quiet relief. "Always?" There's pure innocence in J'nason's voice, a clear sign he's about to fuck with T'zur. "The right lady giving the orders man..." Eyes close and his hand raises into the air like he's reaching for something divine and sweet. "It pays to let them think they're running the show." This show allows T'zur to easily take the lead but that's cool man, that's cool. J'nason follows with that smirk all over his face still, and takes his time shucking his pants off. T'zur rolls his eyes at the overly dramatic display. "Whatever, man," he mutters. He steps into the nearest pool, hissing at the temperature, but continuing after a pause, diving under the water briefly before finding a ledge he can sit on, exhaling as he runs a hand through his hair. He's silent, for a time, as he reaches for the sweetsand and starts scrubbing, but it isn't long before he shoots a curious look at his fellow bronzerider. "How many have you won?" he asks, with a tip of his chin in the vague direction of the weyr they were in last night. "Man, we have got to work on your woman skills." J'nason settles himself into the baths and takes some time to start the cleaning - though he'll look up with the question gets offered forth. "Gold flights? None, Hephaisth is an awkward fucker with weird proportions. He never lands the big ones. A scattering of greens though." J'nason eyes the other bronzer speculatively, "You? You can't be more than... twenty? Twenty one?" A stab at the other's age. T'zur's scowling again, now. "I do all right," he replies, defensively. With a hitch of shoulders, and a hasty aversion of gaze, he adds: "Tziveth's won a green... or three." He ducks under the water to wash out the sweetsand from his hair, exhaling as he surfaces again, throwing an arm onto the dry ledge for balance. "About that," he admits, hastening to add: "Tziveth's nearing four, though. But he's, small for a bronze, and all angles, not bulk. Weyrlingmaster said it'd be a lucky day if he ever won a gold." A fact of which he clearly still feels resentful about. J'nason's laugh is probably not at all going to make T'zur feel better about his dragon's resourcefulness - or his own manly prowess. Ducking under the water J'nason washes off the smell from his hair, though he'll miss the sweetness of his twin's hair. "Meh, fuck what the Weyrlingmaster's say." Seriously, clearly J'nason usually does. "It's the chase that matters." The Bendenite is not so far removed from weyrlinghood that the response doesn't take him aback for a moment, before he guffaws. "Yeah. Fuck her," T'zur repeats, with feeling, grinning. He nods at that last, like it's a life lesson he's taking to heart. "First drink's on you man, for this," he points at his lip, as he stands in the water. HOLD THE HORSES. J'nason's gaze fixes on T'zur with his eyes WIDE OPEN. "You're not telling me you didn't?!" With the weyrlingmaster. If she's female. The offer of the drink gets waved off, "Come down to Ista some time. I'll put you up." T'zur gives a graceful shrug of his shoulders, and a grin that's meant to say, fuck yeah I did. "Might've," he goes for. But then, the might be exaggerating, but what's a little exaggeration between friends, right? "Ista, huh?" He runs a hand through his hair, looking thoughtful, pleased. "Sounds good." A beat, "I'd offer the same for Benden, but it doesn't have quite the same draw to it, y'know?" The hungover puking does SO NOT do much of anything for T'zur's claim of having done anything of the sort with his Weyrlingmaster. J'nason will just roll his eyes and go, "riiightt man. Due, yeah, Benden is almost as much of the pits as this place." He rolls a finger skywards to take in all of High Reaches. "Sand, sunlight, crystal oceans... that's my place." "This place doesn't seem to bad," T'zur says, after a pause, as he moves to the shallower end of the pool. "I mean, the people seem welcoming enough, and I'm a northerner by birth anyway -- don't much think I could stand the heat for days on end. What's so great about Ista anyway, besides the heat? I mean -- I could visit there anytime, if I wanted the heat." "Well, the people." J'nason's grin there is all sorts of cocky. The ladies are for sure welcoming of foreigners~ "Nah, man. The heat isn't too bad. It's the tropics. Not like Igen or whatever. The OCEAN." Happy J'nason. "Hm," T'zur muses as he steps out of the water, reaching for one of the fresh towels. He starts with his hair, rubbing it haphazardly and leaving it a tangled mess as he dries the rest of himself. "Guess I'll come by, see what you mean." He glances, embarrassed, towards the hallway. "I should try and find someone to clean up that mess. I feel bad for... Sheena and... um," he can't remember the other twin's name. Maybe his bro remembers? J'nason just turns over in the water, enjoying the water and an extended soak. Never mind if he keeps his eyes on T'zur while he dresses, that grin still all sorts of there. "Probably something similar to Sheena." Because that's how Pern twins roll, right? "Did you ever even ask her name?" "Um." T'zur's face squints -- albeit briefly -- while he tries to recall. "I drank a lot last night, man," he says, defensively. "Maybe... Shiela? Reena? I'll, um, try and find out," he says, as he pulls on his clothes, again leaving his shirt open. T'zur is probably going to want to punch J'nason for that shit-eating grin of his and laughter that follows him about the room. Pulling himself out of the bath J'nason wraps a towel around his waist and goes looking for something to clean his teeth with. "HEy! Catch," to the other bronzer when the however-people-on-Pern-do it tosses the stuff at him. The Bendenite actually manages not to scowl, but he does have to scramble to catch what the Istan tosses his way. T'zur barely glances at it: "Uh, thanks man. I'll have Tziveth bespeak Hephaisth soon." And he's traipsing out to brace his awkward reunion with the twins. |
Comments
Alida (19:17, 15 July 2016 (PDT)) said...
HawHawHaw!
Leave A Comment