[PRP] Turn The Page (I'lin, D'zrak + Dergs)

[Prism Shine]

The bathing chambers were helping to wake I’lin up. He’d scrubbed himself, mindful of the latticework of claw marks that lace up his shoulder and across his chest that would add to his growing number of scars he seemed to collect. It’s a freshly-settling feeling, that he had a hyphenated name, that he had walked off the sands forever to never stand upon them again--at least, not as a candidate. Pellereth had waited until the end, yet I’’lin could not fault His for waiting. So much had happened that he had had to tend to, but the waves of reassurance and love he radiated helped to assure him that there had been no other.

Even now, from where he lounged off to the side, Pellereth watched his rider and radiated love. He watched with mild amusement at I’lin’s need to scrub himself clean, taking slow looks around the room. Atop his head, Waves was tucked into a loose loop, looking more like a soft blue halo. Since impression, Waves had been near a constant companion to Pellereth--finding as much comfort in hiding on the bronze as he did hiding with I’lin.

Tell me again, why is this necessary? You are you, no matter some straggly hair on your chin. I think you look fine, who cares who else might think differently?

“It’s half down m’chin, Pellereth. Needs t’ go.” His rider paused in the lathering the sweet sand, turning. He wasn’t fully dressed, just his pants to give the furrows a chance to breathe before being wound back up. Plus, less of a messy shirt--if he succeeded this time. “I’m a rider now -- figured I should look th’ part, yeah?” It meant less of a scruffy, untamed mess on his face. Taking the pad of his thumb, he ran over the freshly healed scar. “Jus’ be prepared t’ possibly feel a sting, okay?”

He lathers the substance up one more time before scrubbing it through his mess of a wild beard before picking up the razor. It was a long time coming. It’s a mess that he’s been teased about, and any glance in a reflective surface reminds him of his past, his father..

A burst of love from Pellereth--a strong, possessive, warm sweep--billows through I’lin, and in the mirror he catches the red and purple of the bronze’s eyes. He is gone, and I will never allow that to happen again. You deserve only the best of warmth.

The words are so strong that they make I’lin’s eyes misty… and immediately cuts himself, making the weyrling swear.

Son of a b***h.

Tsunake

 

[Tsunake]

It was the unmistakable curse of someone in pain that caught the redhead's attention, still half-asleep despite himself. He'd never rouse so early on his own, but Slidrianth needed him. Yawning, he glanced down to look at the small bronze baby padding at his side. He was full now, and he'd been bathed and oiled until his hide absolutely shone. In fact, he probably would have liked nothing more than to curl up and snooze, but there was far too much to do. As D'zrak rounded the corner into the chambers, he was greeted with the sight of a familiar, broad-shouldered figure. And, of course, a fair bit of blood.

"Faranth's sake, you trying to feed yourself to him?" He stepped forward quickly, and it was only then that he realized what had happened. A bark of laughter escaped him, incredulous more than amused. "You're trying to shave?" His bright eyes glinted even as he rolled them pointedly, shaking his head.

Slidrianth's eyes whirled steadily, having faded from sleepy blues to yellow upon smelling fresh blood. He is alright, Pellereth? He asked, craning his neck both towards the dragon and his rider. Mine might be crass, but he''ll set things right.

D'zrak lingered nearby, unable to keep the wide grin off of his face. Who would have thought, honestly? The wild man of the wilderness, unable to even properly take care of himself!

Prism Shine

 

[Prism Shine]

The blade had been forgotten for grabbing the towel, blotting at the new scrape in his chin. It was a challenge to dry up the slice without getting soap in. At least it was close to where his other scar was, they might blend into each other to another’s eye…. From far away, perhaps.

The approach of someone was caught by Waves, who was instantly giving a low whining whistle where he laid. I’lin about sighed, facing the red head. Yet he can’t help but grin slightly, shrugging. “Thought I mite try a new bondin’ exercise. I hear wherhandlers do it.” Amusement dances across his half-asleep grin, even with Pellereth’s unamused snort, and his gentle grousing of, I would never, and I am not a wher... Yet, him shaving.. D’zrak couldn’t know, yet where he might have balked before, he finds an easiness to his shrug, even as heat begins to rise in his already warm face. “Can’t help I ain’t had anyone show me how t’ have a clean-shaven, pretty mug like yours.”

Even with his rider’s prickly, oddly affectionate waves, Pellereth seemed quite content--even if he’d looked over D’zrak. The anger of the memories of the one who had hurt His so had drained away, leaving a swirl of contented smoothness--even if there was a gentle tinge of worry. Slidrianth’s voice had him gently turn towards him, careful not to have the nervous blue firelizard to slip off. A small knick. He is learning, though without a teacher.The exasperation in his voice giving way to their prior conversation of trying to ply for help, even if it was an odd thing I’lin seemed resistant to ask for. Yet there’s a warmth for Slidrianth, no matter what had happened.

With a flippant wave of his hand, I’lin checks the cut in the mirror. Shallow, and seemed the blood had stopped. “Rest of the room’s yours -- ain’t gon look.” It was big enough to fit quite a lot, even if at this early hour it was oddly abandoned. Odd, old festering feelings be damned, anyway. He’d just like to shave and feed himself.

Tsunake

 

[Tsunake]

Something was different. There was no gruff, awkward silences, no stiffening tension. D'zrak's surprise manifested as a thoughtful expression, his eyes sliding towards the bronze hatchling who was watching nearby. Looking at him to be precise. So, he'd found His and gotten some confidence. D'zrak had always been a confident person... but when Slidrianth's mind had touched his, he'd known he would never be alone again. He'd never lack an ally who wouldn't hesitate to have his back, a confidant, and someone to always pick him back up on his feet if he were to falter and fall.

The change in Ielin--no, I'lin's demeanor was remarkable.

No need for him to wound himself further. Slidrianth seemed disgruntled at the very prospect, rustling his wings even as he sent his own wave of warmth back towards his brother. Indeed, he pushed mentally at His. You'll help him, of course. Best to befriend all of our siblings now, so that they think fondly of us when we begin to move. He instructed his rider privately.

D'zrak snorted at his dragon, who stared back up at him with innocent green eyes. "So generous. But I think I better help before you--shards, you really did already scar yourself!" He could barely see it now that he'd stepped closer, but it definitely was a scar marring the man's chin. "Give me that." He groused, holding out his hand for the razor. "Pay attention, because I'll only do this once. Maybe you'll even manage to look as pretty as me one day."

A snort.

"That was a joke, because that's not happenin'."

Prism Shine

 

[Prism Shine]

The thoughtful look on D’zrak’s face makes his own eyebrows pull slightly, wondering what exactly he’d said to warrant such. Yet he supposes he’d have never said as much, before.. But With a constant reassurance behind him, I’lin had found himself hesitating a bit less in such a short amount of time -- even his own words had been a surprise. Yet even now, Pellereth floods him with a gentle reassurance to remind him that he’ll always have his back, for neither were to be alone ever again.

We agree on that, at least. He may not agree on Slidrianth’s choice in company with.. that bronze.. But he holds no ill will to his brother for it. If anything, it warms his own hearts at Slidrianth’s apparent disapproval for I’lin’s mistake and choices.

I’lin’s eyebrows quirk up a bit, surprised by the exclamation. “Yeah -- did it a few sevendays back. Before --” He paused, remembering the walk to D’mon’s office, the nerves he’d felt about being possibly sent back -- and the outcome. “..After th’ tea party, anyway.” The large man shrugs, glancing from the other weyrling’s eyes to the waiting hand. Was.. Was he serious? Certainly he couldn’t be, and yet I’lin reached before gently placing the handle of the razor in D’zrak’s waiting hand.

Pellereth tensed off to the side, eyes whirling an alarmed yellow as it occured to the bronze what was happening -- yet a rush of reassurance and love from I’lin caused him to settle.

“Try not t’ slit my throat, yeah? Know the competition for Prettiest Bronze Weyrling will be hard.” Yet he grins, lowering his chin a tad to give the other a good view to work. The.. odd intimacy of it doesn’t quite pass over I’lin’s head, yet there’s a small sliver of trust that maybe the odd, different feeling might prove fruitful. “Prolly not as pretty as you. Dunno how High Reaches’ld handle two of you.”

Tsunake

 

[Tsunake]

Slidrianth, content that the matter was well now in hand, prowled across the room to settle comfortably at his brother's side, nosing at him in affectionate greeting. Ah, but forgive my manners, Pellereth. You and your companion do not mind if I join you? He sent a warm, gentle greeting to the blue firelizard, his eyes whirling curiously. He'd never seen one before, and though neither he nor D'zrak had any interest in possessing the little creatures, that was no excuse to be rude.

The tea party, huh? That long ago? Or maybe it really hadn't been... just felt like ages. He took the razor easily, twirling it in his fingers for a moment even as he laughed at I'lin's newfound boldness. He liked it, he realized, and that in itself was... well. "Oh, please, if there was a competition, I'd have already taken the top prize. Though, that one that Impressed Cadereth might even give me a run for my marks..."

Carefully, but with a deft hand, the redhead lathered up the proffered chin. It wouldn't do any good to nick I'lin after he'd mocked his own lack of ability. "They probably won't," He murmured, carefully drawing the blade against the older man's skin. A clean, smooth cut without issue. "Slidrianth's in a league of his own." Carefully, he continued to shave away the unruly hair, concentrating so he wouldn't slip up or make a mistake.

His bronze watched absently, but he wasn't worried. D'zrak was interested in Pellereth's in a way that wasn't aggressive or malicious right now. Things would be well.

Prism Shine

 

[Prism Shine]

Pellereth shifted, gathering his legs beneath him some to make room for his brother joining them. Not at all. I’m certainly pleased for the company. The little firelizard, for such a warm wave of a greeting, proceeded to melt off of the small bronze’s body and puddle down between Pellereth’s paws. I’m.. sure that Waves is, as well. Though he was uncertain. What an.. odd little creature.

I’lin’s eyes follow the razor -- perhaps less paranoid and more impressed for the deftness of his fingers. It’s.. something to be unpackaged at a later date, he’s sure. Yet he can’t help the slight grin, shrugging. “I didn’t see who impressed Cadereth right off -- I had something else going on.” He makes a broad gesture to the bandages covering his lattice-like scars.

Yet he quiets down as D’zrak began to work, efficient hands on his face enough to make him not want to talk -- nevermind not wanting lather in his mouth. But all he can do is watch intently with each stroke the other bronzerider took. But once he felt confident enough he could speak without jostling the blade, he murmured, “Slidrianth certainly is. Pellereth is quite a stunner, though.” He couldn’t soak in the sweet, warm tones of his beloved bronze’s hue. Like the warmth of a sweetened, hot klah meant to warm the bones and soul.

Shifting slightly, Pellereth turned to gently lean against his brother, feeling at peace for the moment.

Tsunake