your joy, your joy is my low [El / S'yer]

[pulp]

Things could've been going better. Things could've been going much better.

Bahari was lighting up a string of curses under his breath that could raise some concern. The day so far had been anything but plesant, and it had the star crafter in a ripe mood. The morning had started off rocky enough, but the cherry to top it all off had been what had just transpired. He had been working, detailing a chart and elbow deep in notations and calculation that were effectively getting his intellectual rocks off. The disturbance had come in the form of a flitt barrelling in from between, it was his flitt, probably knocked askew and through the air wherever he had been before by his brute of a clutchsibling. What had caused it didn't matter so much as what it had caused. The usually proper blue had cannonballed across the table he was working at, effectively making a mess. The little creature's eyes whirled red briefly, and with a very undignified trill he blinked back out of sight to elsewhere.

It was probably for the best he had left, because Bahari was in a state of paralyzed shock at what had happened. The vial of ink he had out had been knocked over, spilling all over his parchment and, more importantly, onto his clothing. Had it been just his work he would've just been angry, but the fact that his clothing was now ruined had kicked it up a notch into a boiling, raging fury. The doublet he wore wasn't going to ever get this dark, black stain out of it, and the fine, thin tunic beneath? Oh that was certainly only good for a rag from now on. Bahari hissed, his jaw clenching as he kicked back from the desk and hastily stood, looking over himself.

That was when the cursing had started.
The cursing persisted through the crafter gathering up his supplied and making sure his workstation wasn't so much of a sharding mess, and the cursing still stuck through when Bahari had nothing left to do but look down at his clothing and fume. The tips of his fingers were ink-stained, and portions of his wild mane of hair were just as dirtied, likely from him threading his own hands through it in some feeble attempt to calm himself down. He wasn't aware of the streaks on his neck or his collarbone, but he was damned aware of his clothes. Baha had stalked out of the crafting room, marching on the warpath through the hallways of the lower caverns--likely to the wash rooms or something. Individuals in the way were glowered at until they either moved or Bahari clipped his way past.

"Sharding demon, I'll skin him alive and use the hide to patch this fucking mess."

[Elessar]

The day was not going well. Or at least, the day could have been going better. For S'yer, days never went well, only bad or worse. Today happened to be leaning on the worse side, however, due to the culmination of events leading to his dragon, Dondareth, effectively flaming not only himself, but also his rider during practice.

His clothes were a black, charred mess, and his dragon wouldn't be able to fly Thread for at least a week. As things were going for S'yer, things had tanked from worse, to as bad as it can fucking get. On top of everything else, he had burns on his arms and chest, as well as the side of his face, which meant a lot of numb-weed and the order to take a hot bath by the healers.

And so the rider had stalked down to the wash rooms to dispose of his now-useless tunic that his idiot of a dragon had ruined (how on Pern the fool of a Took dragon had managed to flame the both of them, S'yer would never know), and was now heading down the hall to the bathing pools in an absolute rage.

It was not unusual for S'yer to simply push people out of his way, but today it seemed like everyone was getting shoved to the side as he marched down the hall, chocolate colored eyes glaring daggers at anyone that dared look at him. As it was, his rage was so great that he failed to notice someone storming down the hall from the opposite direction until the two men ran into each other.

S'yer's immediate reaction was to roar in fury and slam the other man against the wall. "Do you want to die?!" He snarled, staring into the eyes of, what he soon realized, was someone equally as angry as himself. Blinking, he slowly released the other man, chest heaving, and stared at him with some confusion.

"Well?!" He roared. "Do you?!" Pushing the other man against the wall again, S'yer couldn't help but notice that the other was rather… attractive. And ink-stained. "…what the hell happened to you anyway?" He finally growled, spitting on the ground with some disdain. "Well?"

[pulp]

Perhaps it was just the hazy red glaze of fury that stopped Bahari from noticing that one of the approaching meat-bags of people in the hall wasn't moving out of his way, or--more likely--Baha just didn't care. He expected the person to turn away at the last moment, and the brunet braced himself to leave a little force in whatever elbow, hip or shoulder that might've caught on the opposing frame when they did move out of the way. Apparently that was assuming far too much, seeing that not only did Bahari run straight into him, he was also careened over and pushed into one of the walls of the hallway. His head rocked, teeth snapping together in an audible crack as he made contact with the rock wall. His mouth was already curled in a sneer, eyes narrowed and sizing up the sharding idiot who--

Oh, he was burned? Bahari's brows drew together, a deep crease forming between them as he all but growled when the opposing individual started to badger him with questions. Baha only managed a hiss in response to the first question before he was pushed again against the wall. Was this really how this was going to go down? Before rational thought could latch on in Bahari's mind he raised up one of his hands to bat the one that had shoved at him away. "If I had a deathwish I could probably find a better way to off myself, thanks, I doubt you could finish the job anyway if you can't even fucking finish a threat properly." Oh his little forked tongue was in a prime mood, the words easing out of his lips like honeyed venom.

Bahari snorted, hands smoothing over his clothing and, ugh, there was another flare of irritation that set his jaw tight and his teeth grinding. No, running into some charred, shirtless, raging man was not a nice enough experience to have him forget about his stains. "Happened to me? You're kidding, right?" Bahari looked up, meeting the dragonrider's gaze--although his vision skittered briefly to the side where the man had obvious burning on his face. "Clearly nothing as bad as whatever's got your panties in a twist. Then again I do know better than to play with fire like some imbecile." He reached out, prodding a sharp, blackened finger into the man's chest--aptly aimed at one of those fresh burns. "You can back off."

[Elessar]

Really? The dumbass kid was going to fight back? Oh, this day could not get any worse. If the kid was really going to fight, S'yer would end up murdering him. Of course, the day really wouldn't be complete until he was called up to the sharding Weyrwoman's quarters to explain why he had bashed in someone's fucking skull and killed them.

"You really wanna fight back, kid?" The rider snarled as the other man slapped his hand away and gave some smart-aleck response about offing himself. S'yer wished he hadn't left his gear in his room… one small dagger to this kid's ribs and he'd be singing a different tale… and then he'd be dead. The rider almost grinned at the thought, but the other man's next words kept any sort of smile off of his face for good.

Pushing his hands against the other's chest to slam him into the wall again, S'yer could feel anger boiling in his blood. "You watch what you say to me, kid!" He spat, fury etched in every feature of his face. "And mind your own fucking business!"

And then… then the kid had the nerve-- the nerve! --to tell him to back off, pressing his thin little finger against one of the burns on his chest. S'yer roared with pain and fury, and immediately reacted by recoiling. His next move, however, was to grab the kid by the tunic. Unfortunately, his few steps backwards had moved him out of the hallway and into one of the caverns set aside as bathing pools. When he went to grab the kid, he found he was out of reach.

"Fucking dumb brat, let me tell you a thing or two, you…." His muttered curses trailed off as he stomped back up to the mouthy brat and attempted to backhand him.

[pulp]

Bahari rolled his eyed when the man snarled back some quip about him fighting back. Really? Did everyone always assume he had no backbone when he was put up against them? His wrathful expression eased into something more snide and petulant. "Please don't tell me everyone your bare your brutish mug to and curse at just shrink away like wilted little babes." Honestly Baha should've stopped when he had the chance, he should've rolled his eyes, dismissed the whole thing and stalked off. Unfortunately he was finding it was easy to goad this man on, and shards, nothing like landing a few lashes with his tongue would ease the frustrations of him ruining a perfectly good outfit. Making someone else have a bit of grief certainly would make him feel better about his own situation.

Whatever smirk that was fitting into his sneer was knocked out when he was pushed into the wall again. Baha even rolled his neck a bit, outwardly rolling those pale blue eyes of his. "You asked the question first, you sharding dimglow, maybe you should heed a bit of your own advice and mind your own business." The rider had instigated this by running into him and then demanding what it was that Bahari had gotten into. Really, when you saw someone stained in ink usually the obvious answer was that something spilled. He didn't feel like explaining that, and he doubted that the other individual even cared anymore seeing that he had staggered back after Baha had prodded into that burn. The youth frowned a bit, inspecting his finger with mild disgust while the rider was flailing back and attempting to reach for him.

"Dumb brat? I'm sorry, haven't you been listening? Honestly if you expect me to take that insult at all when you clearly can't--"

Nope. Whatever insult was poised on Bahari's lips was long gone due to the hand that made contact with the side of his face. The starcrafter's voice cut off in a sharp intake of breath, and his teeth clacked together, jaw slamming shut, in the aftermath of the impact. There was the sharp taste of copper cutting across his tongue and oh he could feel it dripping down his chin. His lip had been split from the blow, and shard it all, now his tunic and shirt were getting stained with blood. Before, Bahari was willing to play a bit of cat and mouse to see how far he could really push the rider. Now? Oh shard it all, now all bets were off. His gaze flickered for a moment behind S'yer before he concentrated on the man again, and he made sure to hold that vision of his while he reached up to wipe at his lip with the back of one hand--and oh shards he even smirked.

"You hit like a Harper, rather soft, brute." Truthfully Bahari wouldn't know, he hadn't been struck like that out of the blue--not unless he asked for it. "Let me show you how it's done." And with that the man used the wall he was up against to push off of and drive himself forwards into the rider, twisting his body around to aim a shoulder at that chest and hopefully using enough force to send the individual opposite him back into the bathing pools behind him--granted Bahari didn't think far enough ahead to calculate that he'd be likely crashing in too, but hey, hindsight is always twenty-twenty.

[Elessar]

S'yer never did go looking for fights. Somehow, he just ended up in them. He didn't mean to start a fight with the kid, but they had ran straight into each other, and well, shit happened. Especially when the person he ran into had a venomous tongue that clearly enjoyed forked sarcasm. S'yer enjoyed fighting fist-to-fist, not verbally, and he was clearly getting tired of the barbs being pierced in his skin.

He'd already been burned once today, he wasn't enjoying having it happen a second time.

The kid took getting pushed around rather well, however. So much so that when he simply rolled his neck (and his eyes), S'yer gave him an appreciative glance. He looked thin and weedy, but the fight he was putting up was rather marvelous for one who looked like he could be walked over like a doormat. S'yer appreciated someone who could take a few blows and keep on going… but he was tiring of this fight, especially with the other's sarcastic remarks and quips.

Whatever insult he had been ready to throw, however, was gone immediately when S'yer backhanded him. S'yer had the time to think that it served the kid right, but that was about it. Mere seconds after taking quite the hit, the other man was tackling S'yer head on, and the next thing the rider knew, he was falling, kid on top of him, into the hot waters of a bathing pool.

It seemed like time slowed down as he fell, desperately clawing at the air and frantically trying to keep himself out of the water. He saw the other man on top of him, felt every inch of his burned chest erupt into pain where the kid was on him, and noticed individual stones in the wall until he hit the water, and then everything was a blur.

The water against his back was nothing. When he was under two feet of water, another human being pushing him down, with burns on half his chest and face? That was a different matter entirely. All of the fibers in his body were screaming in pain where water touched burned flesh, and he was screaming, too, taking in water instead of air.

Flailing, he somehow managed to scramble his way out from under the other man, surface, and flop to the edge of the pool. Scrabbling for purchase against the wet stones, he screamed in agony as he tried to haul himself out of the water that was causing him so much pain, but his entire right forearm was nothing but burns, and shard it all, he couldn't get out of the damn water! So he yelled, yelled with fire and fury, as if nothing in the world could possibly quench the pain and agony he was currently experiencing.

[pulp]

Careening into the hot water of the bathing pools was not on his agenda, it had never been on his agenda. He was supposed to just discard his clothes and spot-wash whatever was on his skin, not end up drenched and momentarily tangled with some deadglow who wanted to start a fight. Bahari expected some sort of rebuttal, some sort of strike back at him for acting so brashly, but instead when he managed to get a bearing on his surroundings all he heard was screaming. Bahari surfaced from the water of the bathing pools, gasping in and still tasting that tang of metal in his mouth from his split lip. Involuntarily he pulled it between his teeth, sucking on it as his hands flew up to push the heavy, drenched mass of hair from his face and vision.

Hindsight came bowling into his mind like some uncontrollable force, and instantly that raging fury was all but washed out. Bahari was a brat, he was a smarmy little shit and liked to have things go his way, but he wasn't cruel. The attitude and bitter expression fell away from his face, and Bahari scrambled out of the pools. Perhaps if he had a bit more of a craven touch to him he would've just high-tailed it out of these completely. However, Baha wasn't that heartless. The crafter shrugged out of his doublet, and pulled his ruined shirt off of his head easily enough, and a moment later he was on his knees by the lip of the pools. The young man reached out, one hand reaching for the uninjured arm of the dragonrider while the other, balled up in the fabric of his shirt, reached for the burned one--shards, Baha wasn't a healer but he knew it was poor form to touch an open wound without something as a sort of buffer.

Well, who would've thought that Bahari would end up kneeling there trying to pull out the very person he had pushed into the pools. Something close to guilt was on his features, and something that sounded even closer to it colored his voice. "Sharding idiot, just grab on, I'll help you out." He didn't mean to cause actual pain, some frustration and strife, yes of course, but when it crossed into the realm of causing another person grief that was tangible he knew he overstepped a certain line.

[Elessar]

When the healers had recommended a bath, being pushed into the hot waters of the bathing pools after a fight obviously wasn't what they meant. S'yer, if he had any rational thought left, would have thought that perhaps the healers should have used the word soak instead of bath, the sharding idiots. But then, they had said to keep the burns out of the water, and just like the idiot he was, he had somehow ended up in the water.

Thankfully, his red hair was short enough that it didn't impede his vision, but the pain he was currently experiencing blurred his vision enough. Not only was there hot water on his fresh burns, but also the stone edge of the bathing pools scraping against them, too. Screaming in both agony and fury, he scrabbled helplessly at the edge, trying and failing to pull himself from the water. When a hand reached to help him, S'yer took it without a second thought.

What gave him second thoughts was the voice that went with the outstretched hand.

However much of a dimglow S'yer might have been, he wasn't that stupid, however, so he took the other man's offered hand anyway, and with help managed to half-flop, half-drag himself out of the water. Laying on the floor of the bathing pool, his face scrunched up in pain, chest heaving, S'yer wondered why in hell the kid had helped him. "Should've… left me to… drown, kid…" He panted, eyes half closed in pain. "Obviously you don't… fight much…"

Rolling onto his hands and knees, the rider coughed a few times, spitting up the water that had nearly drowned him only a few moments before. Finally, S'yer sat up, head tilted back, panting. He obviously wasn't complaining that the kid had helped him out, since he wasn't in so much sharding pain any more, but had it been him… he would have left. S'yer took a deep breath, and looked at his enemy-turned-savior straight on. "But hey… thanks, I guess. I'm S'yer. And you are…?"

[pulp]

Once the rider had grabbed onto his hands Bahari did what he could to aid in pulling him out, this was one of those moments where his choice of craft felt like a definite hindrance. In a family full of burly smiths and farmers he had opted for starcrafting because it kept his mind engaged enough for him to take interest. Sure, it was everything he wanted, but it didn't exactly leave him as being the strongest fellow. The result of the man being half pulled out onto the stones was enough, just enough, and once he was stable and seemed to have himself on the floor Bahari retracted his hands and braced them on his thighs, taking the brief moment of stillness to catch his breath.

Absently he looked over when the man piped up, and Baha snorted, shaking his head at the comment. The motion sent tendrils of his soaked hair dragging over his shoulders and back, and irritatedly he pushed a lock of it away from his forehead with the heel of one palm. "Let you drown because you split my lip? Please, I was having enough fun seeing you get pissed off." Bahari snorted, tilting his head back and exhaling deeply. The rider had been right about him not fighting much, and the crafter only shrugged in response. He couldn't negate that comment, and shards, he was far more proud of other things than his very little fighting ability.

A brief eye of worry was given when the guy started moving again, half because Bahari was terrified he might slip back into those waters and then he'd have to deal with having a hand in a murder at the Weyr. He did not need a mark like that being cast against him, thank you very much. The sight of S'yer rolling over and getting himself righted eased him a bit. Okay, previously angry-as-hell man wasn't on a warpath to beat him into a pulp, and he wasn't currently dying. Things looked good. Bahari reached for his discarded shirt, gingerly picking it up and moving to begin wringing out the water from it.

"Did-did you just thank me?" Bahari paused in his motions, turning to look at the burned man with an expression of surprise. "You honestly just thanked me, even though I'm the one that just knocked you in there in the first place?" Disbelief was evident in his tone, along with an underlying note of amusement. "Well S'yer, you're quite welcome for your near-demise and resulting rescue. I'm Bahari. I would say it's a pleasure to meet you but really being drenched and getting into a tussle doesn't exactly come across as pleasurable." He caught himself there, tilting his head a bit and continuing to wring out the shirt. "I retract that statement, in some circumstances it can be, in this one, though? Nope." He took up the stained, soaked shirt in his hands and dabbed at the cut on his lip, eyes hooking back on the sight of the dragonrider. "I fancy you need to reapply some numbweed after all of that, you were screaming like a child."

Of course any suggested attempt at help just had to be matched with a little dig.

[Elessar]

Overall, S'yer was still trying desperately to recuperate from his dunk in the bathing pools, so he ignored most of what was being said by the other man, choosing instead to shake his head or nod. He was too tired for much else. After all, he did almost just drown. That would make anybody exhausted, right? S'yer hoped so, because he was no weakling, but his body felt completely shot and useless at the moment.

It wasn't until one comment Bahari, as he now knew the other man, made that he really paid attention. Raising his head (he had been resting his hands on his thighs, his head hanging down, eyes watching the floor), S'yer glanced at Bahari carefully. He ignored the barb about screaming like a child, instead choosing to focus on that other comment that Bahari had made…

Leaning forward, he brushed a lock of Bahari's long hair back from his eyes, and grinned. "So… you wanna try that being drenched and getting into a tussle a different way this time?" He asked, voice as smooth as silk. He was never, ever too tired for that, after all. Even if Bahari did almost kill him.

[pulp]

Bahari was expecting some comment about numbweed, something about, oh you know, those burns the man had all over himself. The fact that S'yer had leaned into his space and brushed back some of his hair was enough to make Bahari pause in his motions. The hands that were wringing out the shirt froze, and his eyes snapped up to lock onto the other figure, fixing him with a cool look of. oh, was that apprehension? The starcrafter arched a single eyebrow as he took in the following comment. Oh. So he was going to focus on that bit, was he? The brunet smiled then, and since their little bump in the hall it wasn't packed full of malice or touched with foul intentions, oh no, his smile was chalk full of amusement and sass.

"You seem winded already from your brush with death, unless you get a second wind and that kind of rough-play gets you going, I doubt you'll have the stamina for me." Ah, yes, there was the smarm back into his voice, any traces of guilt or anger missing then. The man took a moment to give a very obvious once-over of the man he was kneeling across from. Even a little burned he wasn't that sore on the eyes at all, and he did have some fight in him. "Besides, you are a bit tender still, I'm assuming." He released his balled up shirt with one hand, moving to reach out and, with the very same finger that had poked into that burned flesh, traced the barest edge of the wound across the man's chest. "Unless you like it when it hurts a little."

Ah, now you've done it, you've gotten the journeyman on a topic he could really get himself going on. The man leaned in, the brief touches of his fingertips winding their way down S'yer's torso. "If you think I'm a sharding brat now you'd just hate what else I can do with my dirty little mouth." He pitched his voice a notch lower, his smile widening into something shark-like. "And if I get you screaming again, well, I expect more than just a little smack, a busted lip is a nice start."