25.Oct.17, 03:07 AM
N’mor stepped back a pace when Z’rin finally took the clothing; he could feel his cheeks heating, which just caused him to clench his jaws and jut his chin slightly in determination to not be weird. But didn’t that make everything slightly weird? N’mor was distracted by Z’rin bending to unlace his boots, and N’mor watched him with a vague sense of interest, remembering a time when he had two hands to do such a simple and every day task. He was still watching the bluerider with frank curiosity when he stood up and toed the boots off, before dropping his pants. N’mor blinked slightly in surprise. Fancy that, he thought idly to Rhezlath, a bluerider that wears undergarments.
“I figured all you blueriders preferred to go commando,” N’mor stated dryly, eyeing Z’rin with interest as he took in his legs – nice legs, really – and then stormy green eyes rose to meet Z’rin’s, the dry humour quickly being exchanged for outright humour when his companion called him Sir, with N’mor laughing with good nature. “I’m no ‘sir’, Z’rin.” Though he didn’t know how else the bluerider was supposed to acknowledge him. He supposed that ‘sir’ was the appropriate title, since that was how N’mor would have greeted someone higher ranking than himself. “Though I suppose that is proper,” he relented, shrugging slightly. While he was prone to being a traditionalist – girls didn’t belong on dragons, for example, - N’mor wasn’t really sure about this whole ‘sir’ thing.
You should get used to it, if you ever want to be a Weyrleader, or even a Wingleader. They should respect you. Rhezalth said seriously, and N’mor glanced towards where their dragons were lounging on the edge of the weyr. True enough, my love.
Turning his attention back to Z’rin, N’mor raised an eyebrow at the bluerider, noting he still hadn’t put on any of the clothing he had handed him. “Are you going to get dressed? Not that I mind particularly, you aren’t bad to look at, but you’re certainly not going to be any warmer flying between dressed only in your socks.” A teasing smirk pulled up one corner of N’mor’s lips, eyes bright with teasing amusement. Tormenting blueriders was something he was good at, and had a particular enjoyment for. He wondered absently how he’d never managed to stumble across R’nd in only his underwear. It was – to be sure – a good thing he hadn’t, but he could only imagine the power he’d have held over his father’s lover in such a moment.
N’mor’s smirk turned wicked at the thought, and it took a few moments to quell it, though the air of amusement lingered around the young man regardless.
“I figured all you blueriders preferred to go commando,” N’mor stated dryly, eyeing Z’rin with interest as he took in his legs – nice legs, really – and then stormy green eyes rose to meet Z’rin’s, the dry humour quickly being exchanged for outright humour when his companion called him Sir, with N’mor laughing with good nature. “I’m no ‘sir’, Z’rin.” Though he didn’t know how else the bluerider was supposed to acknowledge him. He supposed that ‘sir’ was the appropriate title, since that was how N’mor would have greeted someone higher ranking than himself. “Though I suppose that is proper,” he relented, shrugging slightly. While he was prone to being a traditionalist – girls didn’t belong on dragons, for example, - N’mor wasn’t really sure about this whole ‘sir’ thing.
Turning his attention back to Z’rin, N’mor raised an eyebrow at the bluerider, noting he still hadn’t put on any of the clothing he had handed him. “Are you going to get dressed? Not that I mind particularly, you aren’t bad to look at, but you’re certainly not going to be any warmer flying between dressed only in your socks.” A teasing smirk pulled up one corner of N’mor’s lips, eyes bright with teasing amusement. Tormenting blueriders was something he was good at, and had a particular enjoyment for. He wondered absently how he’d never managed to stumble across R’nd in only his underwear. It was – to be sure – a good thing he hadn’t, but he could only imagine the power he’d have held over his father’s lover in such a moment.
N’mor’s smirk turned wicked at the thought, and it took a few moments to quell it, though the air of amusement lingered around the young man regardless.