Two Blondes, One Tub

Western Weyr - Hot Springs Cavern
Created by the fires of the volcano a pocket of ancient air has created this huge open cavern in the black stone. Most of the floor is covered by bubbling mineral water that gleams azure in the dim light of glows. Swirls of green, blue, red, yellow, black and white are awash on the walls and floor, earmarks of earlier times when the hot water boiled out of its bed and rose to fill the dark cavern.
A few signs of humanity can be found. A trunk with soft fluffy towels, soap and a boardwalk erected through the middle of the four pools so that people can find their way to the hot water without burning their feet along the way. It is rumoured that an hour in the hot water can melt away even the worse of troubles, leaving a person relaxed and ready to face a new day with vigor.


The ice and snow of Western's weather has driven many into the hot springs, even as early as lunch time. The air inside is steamy and warm, smelling of minerals and sulphur. The four pools are, for the most part, full, although there are spaces scattered here and there.

Areia walks in, groaning with each step, and quickly strips down to a bikini, leaving her clothes in a heap and slowly getting into one of the pools. She takes a moment to twist her hair up off her neck, then sinks down to her chin and lets out a long sigh.

Having barely been 'back' - if it can even be called that, since she's been little more than a ghost around the Weyr - for a matter of days, Rou'x strides into the hot springs, escaping into the warmth from the inclement weather outside. "The /fuck's/ up wi' that shit outside?" It's a complaint aired to everyone and no-one as she tugs her tunic up over her head, tossing it aside and scanning the springs as she strips off her pants. She too has a bikini huggng her over-ample curves; she doesn't pull it off as well as Areia likely does. Who she happens to spot, for the first time since her return. "Oi. Blondie. Scoot over." Whether Areia does or not, she's got a whole load of Rou dropping heavily down into the water beside her.

Iolain probably couldn't pull off a bikini at all, though that doesn't mean he wouldn't try. The seatrader doesn't seem bothered by the weather, but that may have to do with the fact that he has other problems. The rangy young man is coated with a fine layer of water, salt, and what can only be considered oceanic detritus, including a few clingy bits of seaweed. His blonde hair looks stiff and crackles as he pulls off his tanktop and shirt, revealing what look to be tattoos along his back. He makes a disgusted face after peeling it off, shaking it a bit and then folding it alll into a very neat and stately ball that he chucks onto a nearby shelf. He wiggles free of his sandals and then bounces a bit as he gets out of his pants, all of which gets the same noble treatment as his other clothes. Naked but still covered in salt, saltwater, and things he'd rather not examine too closely, Iolain just happens to pick Areia's and Rou'x pool, which he promptly dumps himself into well enough that his head momentarily disappears. When he raises it again, his hair is, at least, no longer stiff and standing out everywhere, but he still smells vaguely like salt and fish.

Areia scoots over just in time, raising her hands to fend off the small wave of water towards her. "Oi yourself. Can't you slide in or do you have to play surfer every time?" She asks with a good natured grin. "What a day, huh? You can't even breath out there, it's so nasty. How ya been? Or maybe I should ask, -where- have you been?" Iolain's arrival gets her attention for a moment and she can't help but snicker at the throwing of the clothes. "Oh jeez, another surfer." She complains after he surfaces, then points out. "You looked like a porcupine."

"Nice t'have a warmer welcome than the one I got from that uppity little shit've a girl I met comin' back inta the Weyr." Rou'x leans heavily against Areia, arm to arm, /almost/ lips to cheek - it's unabashedly flirtatious, and so very like her. "Y'won't ever hear my complainin' of a warm welcome, doll… though I /might/," she stops the leaning for a moment to look over to Iolain, who's face she doesn't recognise but whose /smell/ is offensive, "complain o'guys stinkin' t'high Belior. What the fuck you been rollin' in, man?"

Iolain arches a brow at Areia when she refers to him as a surfer, ruffling his hand through his hair to get more of the salt out, "I'm not a surfer." He turns his attention to Rou'x after that, however, not elaborating and instead reaching for some soap to scrub into his scalp as he says, "Let's just say some people need to learn how to more securely package live spiderclaws and is not me. Their pincers were tied, at least, or I'd probably be in the infirmary instead of the baths." He finishes the first scrub of his head, likely one of many, and disappears again to rinse the soap out. Good thing these pools are circulated. His hair is flat when he comes back up this time at least, though he doesn't give it a chance to enjoy the moment before slapping more cleaning product on it, "If you've never been buried under a very large number of moving sea creatures, it's not really something I'd recommend."

"Uppity lil shit?" Areia repeats, trying her best to imitate the accent. "And who would that be? You did kind of… disappear, you know." She scolds gently. "I was even looking for you, and poof, no Rou." The flirting is either being ignored or (more likely) just accepted as part-of-Rou. Either way, Arei doesn't move to push the brownrider away. "Salt." She identifies. "Just like the runner salt blocks. Although I can't imagine he was -rolling- in them." Iolain's explaination makes her brows go up and she eyes the man as he bobs up and down. "…Spiderclaws. Okay. Hey look, no more porcupine! Uh. Who are you?"

"/You/ clearly weren't a candidate in wi' my class've 'em." Rou'x snorts at Iolain, flicking water at him - to help with the cleaning, of course. She gives him a crooked grin, that flashes just a hint of toothage. "We had a damned /plague/ o' the bastards to deal wi', in our beds n' shit. So no, it ain't somethin' I'd recommend, either, butcha welcome t'come on over here n' swap 'claw tales once you've washed that fish stink off… two blondes is better'n one, after all." Areia is winked at, before her question has the rider's eyes narrowing and that smile fading. "You sayin' you din't hear nothin' of why I were gone, 'Reia? Cos I gathered it were big news spread fast n' thin n' filled wi' shit all over the Weyr. I'll setcha straight later, if y'want, but I ain't in the mood to talk about it now." Her head is jerked towards Iolain, and she quirks her eyebrows up. "I ain't got no clue who you are either, 'clawboy."

Iolain's expression offers something of perplexed amusement as he looks between the two of them, his fingers slowing as he weighs what they've said to eachother and to him, "Is interrogation standard routine for all bathing Weyr residents? Of course I stink, this is the bathing cavern. Who comes clean to a bathing cavern?" He sweeps his hair back into a soapy dovetail and cleans behind his ears for a moment, "I'm Iolain. I'm a trader - normally a seatrader. I have a stall and everything. I don't just swim in spiderclaws for a lark or anything." He focuses on the ends of his hair, which are nearly white to begin with, and makes sure there isn't any lingering crap, "A shipment of spiderclaws was being off-loaded from my family's ship and split open right over my head. Who are you two?"

Areia leans her head back on the lip of the pool, neck stretching out and eyes lidding as she listens to Rou go on. "Fish. Ugh." Is her input into the conversation, although she perks up a bit at Rou's invitation. "Sure, come on over." She agrees with a slightly wicked smile. Her head tilts to bonk into Rou'x's gently. "We'll talk later." She says quietly before attention focuses on Iolain. "Trader, hm? And yes. If one of us," She wiggles a finger back and forth from the brownrider to her, "Don't know you - you get interrogated. I'm Arei. Runner extroidinaire." She lifts a foot out of the water and wiggles it in a wave.

"Rou'x. Indianath's Rou'x." There's a wrinkle of her sunkissed nose and a slight squaring of her shoulders as she introduces herself, as if Rou's expecting some sort of… backlash, perhaps? "You weren't one've them boys I pulled off've the ships a coupla turns back, were ya? It were dark n' all, but I reckon I mighta recognised that blonde mop've yours… I gotta bit've a thing for blondes right now." This is said with a wink to Areia, while Iolain gets a click of her tongue. "Y'should've seen the guy I just spent th' last month shackin' up wi' in Southern… hooo-wee!"

Iolain just laughs slightly at Areia, commenting lightly, "That's a pretty strict bathing policy." He disappears again to rinse out his hair, finally starting to look relatively clean, though he stands so he can sit on the edge of the pool and wash off his torso down to his thighs. Yes, he's naked, but he doesn't seem particularly self-conscious, considering he's not weyrfolk. He shakes his head at Rou'x, still looking vaguely amused as he says, "No, wasn't me. I don't spend a lot of time at sea; I just run what you might call the Western branch of the family business." He bends his knee so he can wash his feet, sighing slightly at some scrapes along his calf and examing them by folding over, "Anyway, nice to meet you both, unless you're planning on kicking me out or something. I do live here, though, you know, so I technically am one of you." Deciding his leg's not about to go gangrene or fall off, he sticks it back in the water and wiggles his toes to get rid of the soap.

"Ugh, no fair." Arei complains to Rou'x with a sour expression. "The most 'shacking up' I've done is with the Devil runner, and he spent the entire night trying to kick me in the face and fart on me." Her arm lifts up out of the water to reveal a nice sized runner bite mark. "He got me. AGAIN. I swear one day I'm going to feed him to a dragon. Take me next time, will you? I need a vacation." Her eyes dart to Iolain briefly. Well, perhaps longer than 'briefly' as he stands. "Or at least a man." She mutters quietly. Louder, "No kicking you out. At least, not from me. We seem to have a lack of cu-er, well, new people here." She finishes a bit lamely, grinning.

Rou'x snorts at Areia. "I've been grubbin' around in more dirt than rollin' in the hay, girl. But you're welcome up t'warm my weyr, if ever y'fancy a bit've somethin'-somethin', yeah?" Nudge nudge, wink wink and all that. Iolain is watched with an unabashedly curious gaze, that has Rou tilting her head to one side to get a better view of him. "I ain't gonna kick out no-one when they pretty up the place like you do, 'clawboy." It's a nickname that the brownrider says with enough conviction to suggest it's going to stick - at least for now. "You're welcome up t'my weyr too, if y'reckon you're capable o'handling such things." She snorts in amusement, shifting her weight to lean against the side of the pool, rather than Areia. "Two girls n' one guy's pretty fun, from my experience."

Iolain isn't bulky, that much is clear, but it also doesn't look like he has any extra fat on him at all. He's just someone used to a lot of hard labor and probably a lot of swimming. He doesn't seem offended by Rou'x's scrutiny or the invitation, nor does he seem prone to jumping on it, mostly just amused by the entire situation pretty clearly now, "I appreciate the compliment. Pretty is better than stinking. I can handle just about anything, but I'm not about to warm up anybody I just met. No offense intended." He slithers back into the pool, not lowering himself so much as just letting his weight drag him back in. Being out of the water also shows the tattoo on his back is some sort of sea serpent tangled up with something else, though it's hard to be sure from the angle. Rinsing himself off with handfuls of water and dunking his head for the not-quite-last-time, he smooths his hair back and notes idly, "Plenty of places you can go to pay someone for a roll in the hay and then never have to put up with them again, if that's your area of interest."

Areia snorts softly. "Careful. I'll take you up on that." She warns Rou, something 'not kidding' in her tone. "It's been a while. He is rather, hm, perrty, ain't he?" She takes a long moment to confirm her question, eyes roving over Iolain before she seems to realize she's staring. She scoots down and leans her head on Rou's shoulder. "Roll in the hay. Hah." She rolls her eyes. "I get that at work. Besides, I'm poor. And no, not really. Not that I would turn down a quick thing, but… ah, nevermind." She gives up and reaches for the soap, dunking her head and starting to wash her hair.

Rou'x loops her arm over Areia's shoulders, hauling her in closer. She's not shy. "D'you think I look like someone who's gotta buy sex, doll? Cos I reckon y' pretty wrong on that'n." Iolain gets a wink, and a beckoning with one work-scarred finger - "C'mon over, 'clawboy, n' I'll give ya a little summat t' see if you can prive you can really handle it… or don't." The beckon turns to a flattened palm, a signal to halt. "Y'can stay on over there'n be a challenge… I like one've them."

Iolain nods towards Areia, shrugging at both of them rather calmly, "No, but if you're looking for someone that won't annoy without needing to be nice to them later, that's the path to take. I'm a trader. Talking about monetary transactions is my thing." He finally twitches his lips into the beginning of a grin only to arch a brow when he's told to first come over, then stay, holding up his hands as if to show he's not carrying any weapons. He turns a bit so he can get at the stuff that'll make his hair nice and soft, clearly unconcerned with, well, he's apparently unconcerned with most things. Whatever the case, he puts it in his hair and rubs it in until his locks look rather wavy and shiny, satisfied that they'll behave themselves from now on. Relaxing finally against the wall, he stretches his arms out and tilts his head in order to pop his neck. He's got scars of his own, but the worst one is down on his leg, at least. He considers Rou'x for a moment as Areia seems to be washing her hair, speaking in a curious tone, "I didn't think I was being challenging."

Areia lifts her head and shakes, showering Rou'x as she's pulled closer. "Urg." She complains, lifting wet soapy hair off her face. "So… is he coming over here, or not?" She asks the brownrider with a raised brow. "You're, well, giving mixed signals, hon." Eyes shift to the trader and she sighs. "Rou takes everything as a challenge." She explains, sliding away from the brownrider a bit so she can finish washing her hair without being drowned. This time she tilts her head to the side instead of back, watching the two.

Perhaps Rou'x and Iolain are scar-twins, because she's got a pretty nasty one on her leg, too - though it's hidden under the water for the time being. "Anyone not jumpin' in my lap's a challenge, doll, cos it leaves me figurin' out how best t'getcha… n' I reckon I wantcha, if you ain't interested." And /that's/ where the challenge seems to be. "Fog n' fire,if I could get that prudish what's-her-face t' get down n' dirty wi' me in the lagoon, I reckon you ain't gonna be too hard t' convince, so do y'best to make it fun, won'tcha, 'clawboy?" Areia is allowed to slide away, and Rou'x hauls herself up to sit on the edge of the pool in all her curvy glory. "He can do what he wants t'do, Rei-baby. He's a big boy, ain'tcha, Io-what'sit?"

Iolain shakes his head at Areia and says, with that same sort of entertained smile, "No, he's staying over here, if it's all the same." He just seems to find it funnier when Rou'x says that he is some sort of goal at this point, lifting his hands in a somewhat helpless gesture, "I suppose? If all I have to do is keep saying no, at least it won't require too much effort on my part. I can talk as much as I need to." He's fairly well cleaned up at this point, so at least he looks human again and smells decidedly better. He leans forward this time to rinse the conditioning agent out of his hair, enjoying the softness of it for a second or two, then sweeping it back. He pulls himself out of the pool, standing there dripping as he brushes water off his arms and smiles faintly, "I'm a relatively decently-sized man, yes." That wasn't apparently a joke, or at least not an intentional one. He turns away for the sake of picking up a towel so he can rub off his head vigorously, for once making the tattoo fully visible: the tattoo is circular, with a dragon and a sea serpent fighting, one above and one below a blue disc that has a simplistic version of a ship printed in the center.

"Whats-her-face." Areia repeats with a knowing grin. "Gotta give you that point, at least. She was a bit mortified, though." She squeezes out her hair and flips is back behind her before settling back against the tub wall. "Oh, leave him alone, you'll scare him off." Is scolded, although without much strength behind it. "And he's cute. Don't scare off the cute ones, eh? Go scare of… Zi'on or something." Her hands flip in the water to splash the brownrider before Iolain catches her eye. "Didn't that hurt?" She stabs a finger towards his back. "I mean… ow."

"Y'/are/ a pretty big boy, yes." Ba-dum tsh. Rou'x winks across at the tradery type, wringing out her thick brown braid. She's about done with bathing, it would seem. Her eyes are fixed on the tattoo, and she flicks her fingers dismissively at Areia's comment about chasing him off. "C'mon now, doll. If he were that scared he'd've scarpered already. He's still here, ain't he? Still here, n' paintin' a fuckin' pretty view f' us to look at." And she is looking. She's looking /hard/… until her gaze unfocuses and she pouts in disappointment. The brownrider snorts, pushing herself up to her feet and running hands down her thighs - over the thick scar on her left one - to brush off the water there. "Lack of duty calls. /You/, babe," she points to Areia, "can c'mon up alter if y'want. I ain't gonna say no. An' /you/," Iolain is given a smouldering, pouty sort of look, "can stick around n' look pretty while I ponder that pert arse of yours. It's biteable. I wanna just…" Her hands come up and mime squeezing. "My boy's callin' me, though. Some shit wi' someone t'deal wi' somewhere, no doubt." The roll of her shoulder suggests she isn't too bothered what the emergency is - just like she's not bothered to say a proper goodbye as she turns to plod out, gathering her clothes and swinging her hips on the way.

Iolain finishes off his hair and wraps the towel around his middle, knotting it in place and frowning over at his ball of clothes contemplatively. He blinks and turns at the question from Areia, however, and he rests his hands on his hips, momentarily at a loss as to what she's referring to. He gets it after a few seconds and rubs the back of his shoulder idly, smiling a bit, "Sure. Not any worse than some other things, though." He's got a pretty nasty scar on the back of his calf that would attest to that. Seafaring can be dangerous work. He looks to Rou'x when she seems to be on her way out, both of his eyebrows going up at the assertive way she focuses on him. What she says just makes him laugh and he holds his hands out in another helpless gesture, "I just came to /bathe./ Can't be my fault, the rest." He lifts his hand to offer her a bit of a wave after that, then looks to Areia, cocking his head, "Staying in?"

Areia wiggles her fingers at Rou at her departure. "Tell Indy I said hi." She remarks, then smirks and shakes her head, gazing after her fondly. "Goof. It's nice to have her back, flirt and all." She takes a moment to contemplate that before Iolain replies. "Hm? Oh. I wouldn't know, I guess. Never had one. Ink, I mean. I have scars a-plenty, although none too bad." She watches him get out and smirks a bit at his question. "Do I have somewhere else to go?" She asks with a grin, although she does move to get out, pulling herself up and out and then roughly toweling off her hair.

Iolain shrugs at the question, walking back over to his clothes and sighing as he sorts them out, "I don't have a clue. Just thought I'd ask. At any rate, tattoos don't hurt much, but this is the symbol of my family's business. Sort of a traditional thing. My brothers and sisters have them, too, though they're not all as big." Deciding his clothes aren't going to be fit to wear for a while, he bundles them up into another towel and just slips on his sandals so he's not trotting around barefooted. Apparently he's not worried about walking around in just a towel, but this IS a Weyr, after all.

"Ah, family." Arei says, muffled through the towel but in a very bland tone. The towel gets thrown to the side and she sweeps her hair up into a messy tail, then grabs her clothes and starts to dress. For once, her clothes aren't straw infested. A glance up, and she's grinning. "Too.. salty?" She asks with a nod towards the bundle. "If that is sea work, I'm glad I don't do it. Stables are bad enough. Besides, I get boat-sick." Random Arei fact!

"These could probably be used to build a very small shelter, they're so stiff with salt. They need a good washing. Considering it was Kivan - my little brother - who botched the packing, I'll probably make him do it. Or just buy me new clothes," Iolain says, though much of it is rather mumbly as he examines the state of his poor things. Ugh. Brothers. He tucks the makeshift towel-bag under his arm and looks to Arei, "A lot of sea work is done on the docks, but yeah. If you don't like the sea, don't like boats, and don't like smelling of salt, probably better to avoid it as much as possible." He grins slightly, apparently lingering out of some odd politesse that keeps a person from just walking out on a conversation. He considers for a moment before adding, with a casual shrug, "I like runners."

Areia shrugs. "I'd make him buy you new ones, actually. Those were… well, pretty bad." She slips on her boots and flops down to lace them up. "I do too… most of the time. When they're not beating me up, which seems to be more often than not." Heaving herself up, she gives him a quick up-and-down glance. "You could check out the stables one day, if you're interested. Not that they're anything spectacular but it can be fun to ride out on the beach or something."

Iolain rubs his chin absently, mostly because he seems to be getting scruffy there and will probably have to attack his face later, but also as a gesture of thought, "Maybe. I grew up on the sea, so any other kind of transportation tends to feel, I don't know, strange. I'm still not comfortable getting a lift from dragons and I have to do that all the time." He makes a bit of a face, then smiles and waves his hand, turning finally to head for the exit, "It might be interesting to meet the runners, though, if nothing else. Maybe they'll like me better." This last is clearly teasing, Iolain smiling a bit still even as he heads out.

Areia sighs. "Yeah. Same here, only runners, not boats." She pauses and her eyes widen. "Hey, not fair! Although… yeah, probably. Um, bye. Nice to meet you." She does the finger-wiggle thing before turning to gather up the rest of her stuff and follow him out.


Add a New Comment
Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License