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Harper's Tale 2 - Friday, September 27, 2002, 9:01 PM
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Baths
Steam enshrouds, a misty curtain that veils the room. Pools abound, water constantly swirling, warm and inviting; soapsand waits on nearby ledges for easy access. Racks of clothes stand by the door, freshly washed clothing hang from some, and bundles of yet to be washed clothes fill mutliple baskets beneath. Large cupboard doors open to reveal multitude of fresh, soft towels, and plenty of bathing items -- sponges, pumice stones, and back scrubbers.
Ducking steamclouds are four firelizards.
Obvious exits:
Caverns
N'sync is but a blur in the steam, moving quietly in from the caverns.

Ahhhh, bliss. Wyn is immersed in the steaming waters of the baths, just her nose above the water level and grey-eyes half-lidded in heavy relaxation. Solitude, soapsand, and an absence of sweat and firestone-smell. Perfection.

Ahhhh, bliss. N'sync looks remarkably tired and ready for the cleansing of a hot bath as he sweeps into the steamy room. Chalk it up to long sweeps or exhausting drills. The brownrider is covered in sweat, grime - oh yes. And the smell of firestone. He's already pulling his shirt over his head as he enters, thus obscuring any vision of Wyn.

Wyn, however, is perfectly capable of spotting N'sync. A quietly muttered "Crackdust." accompanies a splash and a few bubbles following a sudden stealth submergence. She'sNotHere. Nope. Nopenopenope. However, even Wyn needs air. It remains to be seen whether her temporary flight will pay off.

Even with his shirt obscuring his vision, N'sync isn't /deaf/. The garment is tossed to the side and the filthy rider moves to the edge of the pool. He stands, hands on his hips, and stares down at the water's surface. Wyn-radar? Or is he just curious to see who's dodging his presence?

Wyn-radar? In that case, Wyn will have to employ her patented jamming system known as the Wyn Shield. Of course, this is challenging when one's in the altogether. She'll give it a try though, emerging to slick her hair out of her face and twitch an eyebrow coolly at N'sync. "Didn't your mother teach you it was impolite to stare?"

"Oh!" N'sync's eyes narrow slightly, and his hand runs through that perfectly-trimmed hair again. "Are we doing /polite/ now?" he questions with an edge to his voice. "I must've missed that while you were ducking under water in the hope that you wouldn't have to bear my presence."

Wyn's eyebrow remains coolly arched. "My, we certainly have a high opinion of our worth to me, don't we?" she comments with a dry edge as she proceeds to work sweetsand into her hair. "I could bear your presence indefinitely, if I had to." she pronounces, offering a slight little baring of her teeth that might be a smile. "Mind over matter, after all."

Is that a flicker of hurt in N'sync's expression? Of course not. He's simply hardening his gaze because of his inate ickyness, right? "Good," he states shortly as his hands fall to tug off his trousers. "Because I came for a bath, and I'd hate to think I was disturbing your.. precious tranquility.. with my mere presence."

Wyn catches the flicker of... something... in N'sync's face, and her own eyes show startlement for all of a couple seconds before her guard snaps back up defiantly and she continues to scrub herself. N'sync clearly deserves it, after all. "You may rest assured that /you/ offer no threat to my tranquility." she drawls, before letting her eyebrow drop and deigning to be somewhat civil. "So. You were flying drills, then."

"Yes, contrary to popular belief, I /do/ do work now and then," N'sync drawls dryly. Clothes discarded, he slips into the water across from Wyn. The better to watch you, my dear. He sighs, and his head shakes as he begins again in a slightly more pleasant tone of voice. "Yes, I was flying drills."

"Your work ethic was never in doubt with me, if you must know," is Wyn's reply, razor-kiss polite as she avoids looking at the brownrider by the simple tactic of scrubbing at a leg lifted and arranged artfully on the edge of the bath, turning her back to him. Indeed, the fact that N'sync did his duty was about the only saving grace Wyn could attach to him. "And did they go well?" is her next gingerly and grudgingly posed query.

Obvious surprise sweeps across the brownrider's face, and he pauses in his stretch for soapsand to stare at Wyn. "Really?" N'sync questions before he catches himself and shifts his gaze to the sand while scooping up a handful. "Ah.. they went long and hard. The wind was rather nasty today," he finally replies. Are they actually having a /conversation/ here? Soapsand is rubbed briskly between his hands as a sidelong gaze takes full advantage of Wyn's artfully arranged leg. Hey - he /is/ still N'sync, after all.

Wyn may very well have placed her leg in that position on purpose, since it's an excellent distraction to keep N'sync from saying anything truly meaningful. Her expression is still vintage Wyn, however. Cool, impassive and utterly controlled. "Really." she intones flatly. "I may not like you, but /do/ give me credit enough to allow that I am not so driven by my emotions as to denigrate the duties you perform for no reason beyond inflating my sense of superiority." That said in as complex and formal language as she can manage, she returns to serene silence, briskly rubbing the sand to scour away a callous attempting to develop around her ankle.

N'sync stares at Wyn for a moment, evidently speechless.. and then the brownrider begins to laugh. His expression is far from the calculated boyish grin he usually offers, instead filled with pure disbelieving amusement. His head shakes, and spreads soapsand suds over his arms. Evidently she's /that/ funny.

Wyn lifts an eyebrow at the sudden outburst of laughter from the brownrider, switching to scrubbing her other leg now. "I would ask to be let in on the joke," she notes. "But you would likely not tell me anyways, so I believe I shall save myself the annoyance."

"Surely, Wyn, you can't actually /believe/ that people buy this?" N'sync questions in amusement. He slides down, disappearing underwater just long enough to wet his oh-so-perfect hair. "Do /you/ even believe it?"

"Enough people 'buy it'," is Wyn's reply, finishing her other leg and slipping into the warmth of the water again for another soak. "Whatever 'it' that you are referring to, that is, that I judge the project a success. As for myself," she pauses to ease herself further into the water and cross her arms loosely across her chest. "/I/ know perfectly well what I am inside. I simply choose to be selective in who else gets to know."

"Let me let you in on something, Wyn - it only makes you look scared." N'sync's gaze stays remarkably away from Wyn and any artfully arranged limbs in favor of sudsing his own limbs. "And no one /buys/ it. Most people are just too polite to call you on it." N'sync, it's obvious, is not.

"Scared? Of what?" queries Wyn, her tone dropping a few degrees. "And I might note that if I'm fearful you display your own fear too. Always the charming playboy, brownrider? All the Weyr as your playmates? I really have to wonder what's scaring /you/ so that you hide under /that/ shell." she ripostes, ignoring him in favour of inspecting her fingernails.

"Ah, yes... let's change the topic so we don't have to talk about you?" N'sync states with a slight sneer. Nevermind that he's doing the same thing. "Do you even /listen/ to yourself?" His voice lifts in a mocking imitation. "/I/ know perfectly well what I am inside. I simply choose to be selective in who else gets to know."

"I assure you there's nothing wrong with my hearing," is Wyn's reply, rising enough to soap her chest and back. "And /I/ think you're only so put out about this because I don't choose to include /you/ in that group. My friends are my friends because they've earned my trust. What makes you think you can skip that step, brownrider?" The words could very easily be snarled, but that wouldn't be at all Wynnish. No, icy focus works much better. Although perhaps not as well in the middle of a steaming hot bath.

N'sync scrubs his hands through his hair swiftly, leaving behind a trail of soap suds. He pauses, staring at Wyn for a moment, before a swift rinse leaves him free to rise from the water. "You're right, as always, of course," he states with a bitter edge. "I'd hate for you to expand your shell and be surprised one day." Swift, uninhibited steps take him toward towels - he's obviously decided he's clean enough fr the moment.

Wyn shakes her head and returns to the bath. "You simply don't get it, do you?" she states, almost something of a wistful sigh in the words, her tone not bitter but simply tired and sinking back into the warmth of the water. "Show me why I should trust you, and then perhaps we'll discuss my 'shell'."

N'sync shakes his head, sending splatters of water, canine-like, around the baths. "What do you want me to /do/, Wyn? Follow you around and beg? Hope I can grab a scrap or two from your table so I can prove I can be trustworthy with them?" He wraps a towel around his waist with violent motions. "I am what I am - and it's quite obvious that you don't want to bother with that. So what's the point?"

"Very well then." is Wyn's comment, eyes unabashedly on the towelling-off N'sync, although with an air of clinical interest rather than more prurient varieties. "If I am what I am, and you are what you are, why do you keep consistently attempting to find out what makes me tick? What keeps bringing you back when you could ignore me quite as easily as I do you? No, you must be more than you seem, N'sync." Or at least she devoutly hopes so. For the good of Pern. "So, I ask myself, what /is/ it hiding in there, behind the terrible pickup lines, impenetrable ego and sleazy charm. Is there maturity there? If there is, then I /may/ be convinced to trust you." is her decree. Hah. Good luck picking instructions out of /that/. Because Wyn turns back to her soaking with the air of one who's handed out all the clues she's intending to.

"I'm not interested in spending my every waking hour convincing you that I'm more than you've decided to believe," N'sync shoots back with another brisk muss of his hair, intended to convince water droplets to reliquish their grip. "I'd /thought/ I'd made it quite clear, Wyn." He pauses, motionless for a moment as he stares at her, hard. "I like you. I have for some time. You.. fascinate me. I want to know why." He pauses, eyes narrowing. "/You/, on the other hand, are full of lots of big words and phrases and very little else, unless you somehow deem someone.. /worthy/." He practically spits the last word at her. "The instant I get up to go, you ponder if there's something /more/ to me? Congratulations. I'm so proud to belong to the elite." He turns, back to Wyn, to grab at clothes earlier discarded.

Well, /that/ was something completely different. Wyn doesn't seem to catch the last sentence, grey eyes instead looking puzzled as she muses over the middle comment. "You... /like/ me?" she repeats, sounding vaguely baffled in her bland way. "In Faranth's name, /why/?" This apparently doesn't fit the parameters of Wyn-logic. She finishes her final scrub and rinse and ponders getting out, but instead remains soaking, looking much like she's considering N'sync an out-of-range variable on some chart, and can she save the theory by calling him experimental error?

"Good question, isn't it?" N'sync turns, towel draped loosely around his waist and clothes held in one hand. "Faranth if I know, Wyn. /That/ was the point." His eyes narrow, disguising a flicker of pain. "I told you once that I never pushed if a girl told me no. I think you've made it quite clear by now what you think of me. And that your world isn't planning to come down to mine anytime soon." His chin lifts, a familiar, boyish gesture of farewell. "I'll see you around, dragonrider." And then he turns, striding rapidly for the exit.

"Clear skies to you, brownrider," is Wyn's reply, taking refuge in a return to comfortable formality as she switches her stare to gazing at a helpless loofah floating nearby her as if it's suddenly grown four heads and is singing drinking songs in harmony.

And then he's gone, dripping water after him in hasty exit.