[RUMOR] Neighborly Feud

[Arcane]

Two riders have taken to playing increasingly loud and annoying music in the direction of each other's weyrs, in some sort of battle of wills that is making everyone else's ears bleed. Please making them stop, someone, anyone.

[Fel]

N'ero was not a Harper, not by the most generous possible definition. But it was hardly his fault that the person in the weyr next to him refused to quit being noisy at inconvenient times, which was any time ever. Nobody should be able to hear things through stone walls! Well, other than his practice on the drum he'd built.

Having a noise war with a Smith had never been in anyone's best interests. He sat in the doorway to his weyr with a small raising hammer in one hand and tongs in the other, banging on a pot that needed repairs that was suspended on a frame. Was it a proper rhythm? Probably not. Did he care? Definitely not. It was loud, it was obnoxious, and it was going to win him this war if it was the last thing he ever did.

"You can find somewhere else to be loud whenever you like. This isn't going to stop until then!" he shouted over the din. "Just admit defeat!"

[Windra]

Sc'let was not, in fact, one of the pair emblazoned in some war of sound. But she had no qualms about joining in! With an excited yip, the brownrider hopped to her feet. Scarred eyes barely discerned pebble from chair and she initially fell after tripping with a loud, "OOMPH!"

Please be careful! Edwyth pleaded. The dragon was outside to keep his head from ringing, forepaws clamped tightly over his sensitive ears. His head swiveled so that his gaze might peer inside. Do you need an extra pair of eyes?

"Not when I got dat noise!" She could see just barely, but hearing? Yep, got it! Sc'let pressed her hands against the wall and felt her way to the doorway, where she poked her head through and began to sing (but mostly screech), "OooooOOHHH didja HEAAAR the one 'bout da dRunnKeeen lass?! Who fell PLUM ovaaaHH and BusssTTTTeed her aSS?"

[Arcane]

Music was one of the highest forms of virtue on Pern. All of the Harpers said so. Pern passed on its history and morality through songs. A true, proper dragonrider would be able to do her part in passing along the ancient hymns, at least according to Harper Ikki.

Because Duke wanted to be a true, proper dragonrider in all regards, she had been practicing for three sevendays. Duke had never especially excelled at her childhood harper lessons but now she was a rider. Which meant it should be different, right? She was...loud, if nothing else. Which she thought seemed promising. How was she to pass along the ancient hymns if she could not make noise enough to be heard?

Legiath (mostly) found it entertaining, but had issued their share of complaints. Too many of the songs did not mention garnets. They wanted more songs about them and their exploits. Surely they had done many things that were songworthy!

One of Duke's neighbors had recently started joining in, with drums, even louder than her singing and gitar strumming. Duke did not have a drum or know how to play one yet. Maybe she would learn that next.

A new voice joined in, a song Duke did not know about a drunken lass.

Duke tried frantically to change tunes to match, but the resulting notes were admittedly even more mangled than usual.

Music was one of those strange human things Legiath could never really understand. But they did understand fun. And this new song seemed fun.

A drunken lass, eh? What a jape! they said to the brownrider, Sing it loud, brownrider, and teach my girl here to sing of something besides preaching about thread and bronzes.

[Fel]

N'ero scowled as another voice joined in with his obnoxious neighbor. That was the opposite of what was supposed to happen! Honestly, didn't people realize that his noise wasn't going to stop until theirs stopped?

"Nobody cares about your drunken lass or her backside. You sound drunk!" he shouted, still banging on his pot. He wondered if he could build a small forge in his weyr... probably not. If nothing else that would make it uncomfortably warm at all hours. And the smell of hot metal would never leave. Even winning this war wasn't worth that.

Aeth, meanwhile, decided that it was in her best interests to be far, far away from the racket. She settled down on the Fireheights to nap in the sun.