So...We Meet Again [Z'ia]

Feel better now, love? Astoreth asked curiously. She lay in a pile outside, her glossy green hide mixing neatly with the thick-bladed grass beneath her. Her tail swished from side to side and her eyes sparkled a contented shade of blue. Her question was largely rhetorical and almost sarcastic; after an eventful morning, A'liran was prickly and prowling for something to get his mind off of their earlier escapades.

That's your word for it? 'Prickly'? A'liran asked indignantly as he power walked into the dining caverns, his grey eyes focused only on the breakfast tables. He was among the last this morning, which wasn't unusual. A'liran preferred the nighttime hours to the early morning, though it sharding figured that the one day he got up to do his exercise early instead of late, he just so happened to be grievously delayed.

Not as 'prickly' as you were an hour ago Astoreth teased lightly. She could have laughed warmly to herself, had she the proper anatomy. A'liran puffed up just a little bit, but after a moment of consideration and a helpful image from his dragon, he had to admit that it was pretty funny.

Bitch he said as he dismissed the image, that of him covered in the long, pointed briers of some local plant that must have been related to the north's Needlethorn. Shards, was it annoying. After his unfortunate slip, it had taken nearly forty minutes for the healer he'd seen to get them all out of his legs. A'liran scowled as he walked, trying not to encourage the beast by actually laughing at her imagines.

Astoreth smiled in his mind, then relented. Sorry she said with aloofness, as if distancing herself from the childish act. I couldn't help myself. She knew that her rider's dignity was valuable to him, so it was best to not push it too far. It was good to get a jab in and get him to smile, too...even if his smile was as internal as hers was.

Yes, yes A'liran thought. He maintained his grumpy exterior as he made his plate and seated himself, but after a moment he couldn't help but finally grin, just for a moment! Love ya, baby girl.

"Well hello," The word was purred against an ear, the short man leaning into A'liran's space without touching him from behind, clear of any elbows or heads that might jerk back from the sudden announcement of someone in his space. Z'ia had very little in the way of a body; he didn't need it taking critical damage!

Slipping back and across, Z'ia seated himself light and poised on the bench near the greenrider, his eyes bright with deep amusement. He'd been watching the older man since he entered the Hall, the play of emotions on the greenrider's face had practically begged him to be approached and Z'ia had never been one to need much begging: He was more than happy to oblige, when it would result in his own amusement and entertainment.

Must you? Aveleth asked softly, peering through his rider's eyes at the expression on the greenrider's face and then grimacing. The dragon withdrew with an utterance of disdain at Z'ia's soft mental laughter. Stop? Why ever would he do something like that?

"Good morning?" It was almost a conversational comment, but the underlying laughter in Z'ia's voice would be liable to cause the greenrider to think the blue knew more than he actually did. Z'ia knew nothing of A'liran's fall; he just found the spunky green amusing.

A'liran did indeed react, snapping his elbow back defensively as he felt unexpected breath and heard an all too familiar voice.  He spun on the bench, eyes locking coldly onto Z'ia as the little bluerider danced away. "Good morning to you too, Z'ia," he grunted, crossing his arms and leaning backwards against the edge of the table.

Not good. His morning had been rocky enough without running into this devious little imp. A'liran humored him for now, however, his thin lips curling into a friendly smile that was sorely lacking in sincerity. He had extremely mixed feelings about Z'ia. Putwardly, of course, he hated him. Z'ia was everything wrong with dragonrider society; he was colorist, sexist, obnoxious, promiscuous, and a general bad example for everyone. On the other hand, A'liran found it hard not to rise to his bait and tease him just a bit, for the young bluerider's energy was infectious. Somewhere, deep inside, A'liran liked the attention. He'd never admit it, but sometimes he almost led the younger man on, just for the hell of it.

Being a greenrider was a complicated manner sometimes. Or at least you MAKE it into one

A'liran groaned out loud, but he couldn't fault her for being right.

He crossed one leg over the other and tried to act unrankled by Z'ia's appearance. "What're you doing over here, anyhow?" he asked, tone controlled and even, though there was some suspicion sneaking around in there. After all, Z'ia was a bluerider, and not exactly a charitable one. He wouldn't be talking to A'liran without some sort of motive; at least that's what his paranoid side kept telling him. Experience had taught him not to expect much else, either.

"Isn't this the Fun Table?" Z'ia asked, widening his eyes dramatically in a motion a lot of greenriders seemed to have perfected but simply came off as remarkably mocking on the young man's laughing face, wide smile flashing straight white4 teeth, an act that killed the mocker of innocence entirely.

Green eyes were bright with amusement as Z'ia lounged on his seat, kicking back with very obvious lack of intention to remove himself from the greenrider's presence. It went without saying that for the time being, if A'liran attempted to escape from him, the tiny bluerider would bounce around like an unswattable fly until the greenrider exploded.

Oh but that sounded like amazing fun! ... Is that what you have been reduced to, Zee? A fly? The bluerider laughed out loud, uncaring for how his companion might take such an action. I am a lot of things, my dear child. The mockery Z'ia's tone wasn't lost on the dragon, who gave a mental eyeroll and flicked his tail.

A'liran scowled. "Z'ia," he said, lifting one hand and making a brushing motion in the air, as if he could sweep the bluerider away like an errant dust bunny. "Go on, short shit. No one here likes you."

That was pretty much all he had to say, or that's what he told himself anyhow. He resisted the overwhelming urge to scoot further down the bench. He knew that little imp would just follow him. He could see it now. How annoying it was! How persistently annoying, unreasonably unnecessary, and insufferably uncalled for!

Why was he further down the bench now?

A'liran scowled again, painfully aware of his own masochism. He had to admit, sometimes caving to Z'ia's games could be entertaining. It was degrading, the very sort of thing he hated to see other greenriders do. It was pandering to stereotypes. It was an invitation for abuse. But it was just so much fun to watch that brainless blue chase after him, curls bobbing and eyes shining like a lovestuck teenager. Not that love had anything to do with it. A'liran barely knew anything about Z'ia as a person, just that he was an arrogant user who abused his position as a bluerider...and that like most blueriders, he chased carrots on sticks.

A'liran bit his lip. Nah, he didn't need to do this. He would resist the temptation, lest he be just as bad.

"Seriously, can't a guy eat breakfast without being pestered? Go on..." A'liran said, not quite sure if he meant it or not.

"Of course they don't," Z'ia replied flippantly, kicking his feet up and smirking smugly at A'liran. "They love me. There is quite a difference between the two, you know. About three times my height, at least..." He watched with laughing eyes as A'liran slid down the bench away from him. ... You're going to start buzzing now, aren't you? Bzzt! Z'ia slung back at his dragon, laughing openly as he swung his legs back over either side of the seat and propelled himself down the isle, crashing into A'liran.

"Hello!" There was laughter on his voice, the words breathed into the greenrider's ear as he wriggled closer and wrapped his arms around A'liran's waist, locking his joints so that while A'liran would undoubtedly fight him on it, Z'ia wouldn't be thrown across the room in the process. The wily little bastard would undoubtedly be able to slip free if he really wanted to. That was all part of the game, though.

The short bluerider's fingers wasted no time in plucking the other man's shirt from his pants and crept up over the skin with soft, fluttering touches. "Breakfast, you say?" He purred, being sure to keep his face as much out of reach of head-butts and elbows as possible. He didn't doubt for a moment that A'liran would attempt to cause damage (he was even betting on it!) but he would prefer not to have his nose broken before (during or after) lunchtime. He liked his nose, and it worked perfectly fine in its current shape. But still.

"Isn't that a little sweet for you?" Sly green eyes glanced knowingly at A'liran's food, then back at the greenrider's face. His lips were twisted into a smirk, daring the other man haughtily.

A'liran was beside himself. He glowered at Z'ia, freezing in place despite his initial instinct to struggle. He wanted to buck the little bluerider off, but the tight grip and impish expression revealed just how determined Z'ia was to stay firmly lodged in place. That burned A'liran up even more.

"Z'ia! Seriously, get the shards off of me!" A'liran burst out after a few long seconds, unable to bear the humiliation any longer. He felt his face heat up as he plunged into the bluerider's trap, thrashing ineffectively against the locked joints and clever dodging of his adversary.

A'liran quickly realized he was making a fool of himself. He stopped and drew up, angry eyes cut away from the bluerider. It was almost a gesture of submission, though A'liran would never admit as much. He had amazingly mixed feelings towards Z'ia, as he did towards many riders of that type. They were horrible people in A'liran's estimation, responsible for the harassment and mistreatment of greenriders at large. On the same note, running into them felt like encountering thread; Z'ia was A'liran's ancient enemy, that which he despised and yet that which excited him and gave him a cause to lead.

In a twisted way, A'liran liked he bluerider, and the attention he gave. If nothing else made A'liran's blood boil, that part did! And A'liran was content to blame Z'ia for it until the day he died.

"I'm not your fucking weyrmate," the greenrider mumbled, painfully aware of the amused eyes falling on them from all around. "So get the fuck off of me. Right now." His voice sank low, his inflections deadly serious...but what was the point? Z'ia was going to ingore it anyhow, that little bitch. A'liran gave a thrash for good measure.

"But I'm not on you," Z'ia whispered back, mocking the heated expression, the rising flush, on A'liran's face with a delicately sweet look that was full of tolerant affection. The bluerider chuckled in amusement as A'liran didn't leave him wanting, the greenrider dancing around in his arms like a wind-chime in a hurricane. Z'ia grunted a couple of times, the gruff sound melded with amusement, when A'liran managed to get him in the guts with an elbow. He was very pleased he kept his face out of harm's way!

Z'ia ignored the eyes that were on them. Partly, it was because he simply didn't care what anyone thought and the chances of anyone stepping in to stop 'a bit of harmless fun' was down pretty low. Most dragonriders would stand back and watch a brawl rather than step in to stop it, because Katila was boring. It really wasn't any wonder the Weyrleader was having issues with keeping people under control. He needed to invent some form of time consumer besides leaving them up to themselves to screw, eat and not go North. But mostly, he didn't care because he was thoroughly enjoying the attention he was generating over all and was taking far too much pleasure out of mind-fucking A'liran.

Suddenly smirking wickedly as A'liran stiffened indignantly in his arms, apparently becoming aware of their audience himself, Z'ia leaned forward and licked A'liran up the length of his cheek, from his jaw line before stopping just under his eye. Thoroughly pleased, Z'ia leaned back with a thoughtful Hmm as he made a show of chewing on his tongue, contemplating dramatically the taste of the greenrider. Dark green eyes peered slyly at his current prey from under his lashes, enjoying A'liran's reaction. Enjoying the reactions of their audience.

"What was that, Ali?" Z'ia's voice was, low pitched and for A'liran only, sweet as a bubbly pie. The bluerider's eyes peered at A'liran's face with apparent concern, almost looking worried - an expression solely for his audience. He even relaxed his arms, loosening the grip even as he hooked the leg that was under the bench firmly around A'liran's own leg; his intent to prevent the greenrider from rising without falling on his face if he tried to escape. Content that he would not be abandoned any time soon, Z'ia spoke just as low and carefully as A'liran had moment's before, making it quite clear to the greenrider he'd heard perfectly what had been said a moment ago. "I didn't quite catch it."

He finished his quiet words just in time to catch a good part of A'liran's head to the side of his cheek, and Z'ia grunted again. His arms reflexively tightened once more around A'liran, the bluerider's left eye squinting as the sudden spasm of pain from the unexpected collision radiated through his cheek, then faded to an irritable throb. Z'ia leaned forward, gaze locked on A'liran's face as he put his lips near the other man's ear. "I think you owe me an apology." It was a low, harsh whisper for A'liran alone, and carried the promise of bad things happening to fluffy bunnies (and spunky greenriders) if he didn't get what he wanted. Now.

---

[sup]Fluffy bunnies. Yeah. I was wtf-ing too. Fluffy bunnies.
On another note. I've no idea what is up with the spin in attitude.[/sup]

Naturally, Z'ia was making a show of the torment. A'liran wriggled in the bluerider's grasp and exhaled raggedly, eyes flashing dangerously from spectator to spectator. A number of onlookers giggled and gawked at the situation, occasionally pointing or whistling. The few greenriders who'd taken notice were shying away, trying their best to avoid being reminded. A'liran was hardly alone in his helplessness, and their cowardice made him every bit as angry as the blue and brownriders' lack of respect.

Those greenriders were conditioned to shrink back. They shouldn't have to live in a world where that was normal. It had always been dodgy, but it had never been this bad in the north, had it? How had isolation made the problem worse, not better? What about togetherness and unity?

A'liran was unreasonably angry as it was, but Z'ia's taunting words had nothing on the obnoxious lick to he face A'liran received a moment later. A'liran's eyes widened and his jaw slacked in horror as the crowd laughed. That was it.

A'liran thrashed, and was beyond pleased when he felt his head connect with the bluerider's smug face.

"I told you to get th-" A'liran's triumphant words were cut short when Z'ia slid in close, whispering his threat. A'liran's eyes widened in response. He'd 'known' Z'ia for a while, but he knew very little about the man's actual personality. He knew Z'ia was an obnoxious bluerider who never let any other side of himself show through, at least when dealing with a disposable greenrider. A'liran had no idea what lay behind the mask. The sudden burst of dark anger, therefore, came as a legitimate shock to A'liran. He thought Z'ia to be a mere jester.

Fear flashed in A'liran's eyes. He realized all too late that he'd shown it, but the surge of anger that followed was more than enough to compensate.

"I don't owe you shit," the grenrider hissed under his breath, staring a challenged back at Z'ia while fear and excitement loomed behind his eyes. He set his jaw. "You harass me whenever it suits you. You talk to me and put your sharding hands on me whenever and however you like, never bothering to consider anything but your own selfish whims. You sharding think I owe you an apology for defending myself, you asshole? I'm a fucking greenrider, I get picked on by bastards like you all the time."

He paused and inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring. "And it's just a sharding game to you, isn't it? I'm a dragonrider just like you, you owe me as much fucking respect as you do anyone else," he growled, anger rising in his voice. He attempted to wrench himself away from Z'ia. "Now get the fuck out of my face."

"You owe me everything," Z'ia hissed dangerously into A'liran's ear, the hands located low on the greenrider's waist tightening dangerously and enough to cause fingertip bruises on the other man's skin. The tiny dragonrider had caught the flash of fear and it rippled through his bloodstream on a trail of warming delight and twisted his lips up into a cruel sneer. The anger that swiftly followed it did nothing to upset or intimidate the short man. He knew from experience that when push came to shove (as it was wont to do between the two men) he had more power in his short limbs than A'liran had in his much longer, more slender body.

"Indeed you are," Z'ia purred nastily, his voice soft and too low pitched for their audience to hear as he leaned up to lick the greenrider's earlobe, dark eyes as challenging as the pale gaze glaring back at him. A hand shot up from A'liran's waist to grip the greenrider by the jaw, twisting his face forcefully to look at him, green eyes dark and the twist of his lips more sneer than smirk. "My fucking greenrider," he ground out slowly, lowly, the emphasis on the second word he spoke indicating why A'liran was his, what he was, rather than emphasising his ownership.

Z'ia didn't bother to correct A'liran's assumption that he was a dragonrider, or that he was entitled to respect. If A'liran wasn't aware of those facts being null and void as far as Z'ia was concerned, than that was his issue. Z'ia knew what the spunky greenrider was, and that was all that matted. It would be useful, of course, if A'liran would submit and be less hassle, but Z'ia was also well aware that if the precious little whore did that, he wouldn't be nearly worth the time and effort it took. What was the fun, after all, without a little fight?

Adjusting his tight grip on A'liran's jaw, Z'ia pressed a crushing kiss against the other man's mouth, his other hand digging fingers into the greenrider's tender ribs. Drawing back, Z'ia licked his bottom lip, smirking up at A'liran smugly. He released A'liran's jaw, uncaring about marks or bruising that may likely have been left by his less than delicate touch. "Temper, temper," he purred, releasing the greenrider placidly and folding his arms over his chest, leg untwining from A'liran's under the table. "Such a naughty boy."

A'liran cringed, his entire body constricting as the bluerider secured a hold on him. Z'ia was like a snake, coiling like fluid around his prey and putting the squeeze right where it hurt. For a moment, A'liran even forgot to breathe.

The greenrider resisted, but not with his usual force. It wasn't that he didn't want to. As he felt the hot breath in his ear and the cruel hand on his chin, he could feel his sense of injustice and righteous indignation raging inside him. A'liran was so often outrageous in his responses, but as he felt those thin fingers digging into his flesh and heard the cruel words slithering from the bluerider's forked tongue, A'liran realized that some part of him was afraid.

Some part of him was always afraid. A'liran was only half as confident as he presented himself, but he believed in being reactive, proactive...Why wait until someone realized you were weak to defend yourself? He'd scared away many a looming threat by throwing his chest out and acting the part of a strong, confident man. But what could he do against a foe that goaded those very reactions, who tugged his strings like some sort of skilled puppetmaster? A'liran fell for the tricks again and again.

"Fuck you," he hissed through clenched teeth, closing his eyes as Z'ia's grip continued to bind him. A'liran was all too aware of the chuckles and whistles of nearby brown and blueriders. A'liran relaxed, weary and unwilling to risk injury by 'starting something' in front of this hostile audience. A'liran knew if he lashed out against Z'ia in front of this crowd, he'd be the one blamed for everything. After all, Z'ia was just playing with his greenrider.

When he opened his eyes, A'liran was greeted by the sight of Z'ia's face rushing towards him, forcing him into an unwanted kiss. A'liran twicthed and snapped his head away, scowling. "I don't belong to you," he murmured defiantly, knowing Z'ia would just defend his claim the same way he had before.

Finally, freedom. The humilated greenrider wiggled away from Z'ia and hugged himself self-unconsciously as the crowd laughed. Greenriders made uncomfortable by the display (aside from one, who seemed to be a fan of Z'ia for some reason and was enjoying the show) had crept out. One young lady, probably a stolen, had run off rather urgently moments before...probably to get help.

A'liran looked away from Z'ia for a few long moments, lip curled angrily. He could hear the jeering.

"Way to show him, man."
"Aww, Z'ia! You pissed the little greenie off! Do you think he's okay?"
"Put 'im in his place!"

A'liran's lip twicthed. He spun around suddenly, striking the mug of klah beside him and batting it towards Z'ia. Then, as part of the same motion, A'liran lunged forward and sent his knee flying for the obnoxious bluerider's groin.

"You motherfucker, you piss me off!" A'liran shouted, as if screaming would give him some courage. It usually did, and this was no exception. He would repay that snot for humiliating him in front of all these people!

"Oh, I know." Z'ia purred in response, smirkiing devilishly at A'liran. His simple statement covered all the spicy greenriders outrageous snapping remarks, and he was rather pleased with the reaction. A bright, delighted laugh found release from Z'ia's lips - a sound vastly different from the dark, dangerous personality he hid - when the greenrider threw his mug of klah at him. The liquid was more hot than warm, but not as bad as if A'liran had doused him with it upon first sitting down. Z'ia battered the mug away, uncaring of the liquid that soaked him as he licked his lips tauntingly.

The quick little bluerider was almost too slow to save himself from A'liran's second attack; almost but not quite. A startled twitch saved his groin, but the attack landed heavily in his upper thigh. It hurt like a mother fucker, and it would bruise; Z'ia's eyes darkened dangerously and his hand shot out, fingers splayed to grasp the greenrider around the throat.

"Really now?" Z'ia asked, voice low and sweet, but his eyes were dark with anger. Klah dripped from soggy curls. "I piss you off?" An eyebrow arched upward, getting lost under the wet tangle of klah coated hair. He brushed it back with two fingers, blue eyes never leaving the grip they had on A'liran's own gaze. "Is that so?"

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Its totally not up to his usual standard, for which I apologise x.x