Logs:A Better Man
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| RL Date: 4 July, 2013 |
| Who: K'del, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'del and R'hin both end up in the middle of Benden's Senior flight, quite by accident (I swear). Afterwards, they talk. |
| Where: Benden Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 2, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Kyouri/Mentions, Nakasha/Mentions |
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| Earlier in the afternoon, after sweeps with Taiga, K'del received an invitation from his sister to visit. Although Nakasha isn't there to greet him, her blue is -- Kastaveth filled with gossip. There's something about Elleth, Cora's gold, and then about B'doran being particular hard on them the last seven or so, and by the time Cadejoth lands to let K'del off, it's probably too late. Elleth is noticeable from the ground, her glow vibrant and demanding attention. K'del isn't the only out-Weyr rider here by hapstance: R'hin's walking down from Torith's ledge, frowning over in the direction of the gold, saying something in a low voice to Kyouri. Moments later, he's helping the Benden goldrider up onto her dragon, the junior queen winking away as Elleth starts to stretch and sail towards the feeding grounds, pulling the attention of all the bronzes and browns nearby with a strength that is used to being obeyed. It's been... a while since K'del saw Nakasha, and given how difficult things have been at High Reaches, is it any wonder that he's eager, even excited, by the invitation? That excitement fades almost immediately to dismay - horror, even - when he catches sight of Elleth, but it takes only a single glance at Cadejoth to know the reality of the situation: it is far, far, far too late. The bronze is still strapped as he throws himself into the air, thrusting himself into the fray of the feeding grounds. K'del thrusts, too: hands into pockets, chin into scarf, and has gaze towards the ground. Well... fuck. Elleth is quick to feed, an old hand at this, all too aware of the attention she's getting and loving it. It doesn't take long before she's in the skies -- the flight is almost immediately brutal -- Elleth seems determined to make her suitors jostle for her, and there's more than a few dragons dropping out for injury only minutes into the flight, the senior queen's vicious mood permeating the dragons. The same holds true for the riders -- picking up their dragons' mood, more than one fight breaks out within Cora's weyr once the riders have gathered there. It doesn't seem the Bendenites are particularly welcoming, given the mutterings of foreigners, and the way they protectively stand in front of Cora -- who laughs a with delight that is not entirely her own. R'hin, as is his habit, is doing his best to worm his way to Cora's side: one of the Benden brownriders is the first to throw a punch that lands squarely on R'hin's jaw, hard enough to make him spit blood, a delighted glimmer of eyes visible before the Monacoan punches back; meanwhile one of Benden's bronzeriders goes right for K'del, leading with a fist. What's worse than getting caught in a foreign senior flight? Ending up in a fight at a foreign senior's flight! And yet... By the time that fist comes his way, K'del's caught up enough in the flight to have no hesitation left. The fist connects, likely to leave a bruise on his cheek, but the High Reachian bronzerider is already prepped and ready to return it... along with a knee aimed to the groin. K'del has registered R'hin's presence, but right now, as Cadejoth surges past a handful of Benden bronzes, he offers no acknowledgement. Friend or no, this is a contest. Yes -- it certainly is a contest -- as another dragon attempts to make an early play for Elleth and earns a nasty claw as a result. His rider, looking ashen, races outside without a second glance at the other riders. That's either a grimace or a grin, as R'hin catches sight of K'del -- though the Monacoan at least appears to be enjoying himself, even if the momentary acknowledgement of the High Reaches bronzerider means he cops a punch to the gut. "She's our queen!" comes B'doran's roar as moves to shoulder K'del forcibly back, in place of his now downed-and-groaning fellow bronzerider. All the while, Cora's laughter is an audible track, a noise that makes it impossible to forget she's there, just as Elleth is -- just out of reach. B'doran's not taller than K'del, but he is bulkier, and since the younger bronzerider isn't paying him any attention at that particular moment, it doesn't take much. He trips, scraping both hands as he puts them out to stop his fall... not that it puts him out of action for long. "Oh, fuck you," he says, not paying any attention to his lightly bleeding hands. But he's grinning, now: the thrill of the f(l)ight taking over, as Cadejoth shoves himself past another dragon. More of Benden's riders are piling into the fray, and where it might have been a fair one-on-one fight becomes overwhelming odds: R'hin's backed into a far corner by a group of three, while K'del's dealing with B'doran, his original attacker who is starting to stand up with murder in his eyes, and another brownrider. More dragons fall by the wayside, and as the pack is thinned, Elleth starts to slow, the drag of gravity and exhaustion whittling away at the Benden queen's strength. When she falls, though, she knows exactly who she wants: she's headed directly for Chelth, B'doran's bronze -- though Cadejoth is perfectly placed to make a move that might've been successful had it not been for the deliberate jostling of a Benden bronze. Chelth claims his queen once again, leaving the other dragons in the lethargy and bitter disappointment of loss -- and their riders, too -- the fight coming to an abrupt end. Cadejoth roars in displeasure as that bronze jostles him just out of the running, his grasp catching nothing but cold winter air. It's just in time as far as K'del is concerned, though: the flight's end is enough to distract some of his attackers, and this time, he's got no reason to stick around after the end. He's scrambling, though, ducking out of the way of stray kicks... but at least B'doran is no longer on his case. "I'm leaving," he says, through gritted teeth, heart pounding, breath caught short. "I'm leaving." There's disappointment in R'hin's expression, but, too: relief, as he pushes roughly past one of the Benden brownriders, the earlier scuffle not entirely forgotten. He's eager to get free, and not see B'doran claiming Cora: the Monacoan makes a straight path towards the ledge out, pushing others out of the way if they're too slow for his liking, catching up to K'del just as he breaks out into the cold winter air. "Leaving? We get Benden wine. It's the least they owe us," he says in a low-throated voice to K'del, though the tightness of his jaw and the way his gaze immediately lights on Leiventh as the bronze descends to the bowl bespeaks his consternation. "Leaving the her weyr," clarifies K'del, who scrambles to his feet again, now that he's back out in the elements, his grazed hands hastily withdrawing from the frigid ground. "They're going to murder me," he adds, though gritted teeth, and it doesn't seem to be the Benden riders he's talking about. At least the cold seems to be clearing something in his head, for although he gives the still-strapped Cadejoth a lingering glance as he returns to the ground, some of the tension in his shoulders loosens. "I'd say 'good to see you again', but..." "Good." R'hin seems satisfied, though he's pausing to tongue at his jaw, wincing visibly. K'del's comment earns a bemused sort of look from his fellow bronzerider: "They can't blame you for this? Kyouri," he pauses, eyes narrowed, before twisting into something wry. "--must have known, and wanted me here for the distraction." For all that he uses others, it's hard for him not to admire being used in turn. The latter comment earns a smirk, which quickly becomes a glower as one of the losing riders brushes between the two of them with a hard shoulder aimed at both. "They'll know the way to the wine. Come on," he paces past, narrow-eyed gaze on the rider who passed by him, as if fixing his image for later. K'del doesn't answer the question of blame except in his shrug-- and the wrinkled nose that follows his reference to Kyouri's efforts. That passing rider earns a scowl, but the younger bronzerider otherwise nods, brushing his hands off on his trousers and taking his first steps forward. "I'm going to need a lot of wine. My sister--" But that's not an easy subject, either, and so he abandons it as readily as anything else. "Drinks. Drinks, now." The mood in the living caverns appears quite convivial, as well it should be for a senior queen's flight. Those not in the flight clearly started the celebrations early. "Wine, and a girl. I'm sure you'll find plenty interested, even if you do have red hair." The look he gives K'del is full of amusement, as almost immediately snags the attention of a pretty caverns girl, "Wine, darling. Your best, for visiting foreign dignitaries!" It's hard to tell whether she believes him or not, but R'hin seems forceful and convincing enough that she scurries off, while the Monacoan casts around for a likely spot to settle. "If only I were more like you, then I'd never lack a girl's attention--" says K'del, almost sing-songing it, nevermind that he's completely sober, still. His dimples show when he turns his gaze on the caverns girl, but he leaves the ordering to his companion, and adds, after she's out of ear-shot, "The former Weyrleader's club. Very exclusive. Crashing your flights just to relive our glory days-- only not, because I know Cora's reputation, thank you very much. There--" A table, off in the corner. That earns K'del a light shove from R'hin, though the Monacoan's grinning for all that. "Become my apprentice, young K'del, and I shall teach you all my worldly knowledge of... wine!" Well, that too, judging by his knowing, amused expression. There's a faint, not-particularly-well-hidden shudder for talk of Cora. "B'doran can have her," he agrees all too readily, heading quickly in the direction of the table K'del's pointed out before someone else can claim it. "Benden's the sort of place I enjoy briefly, or from afar," he adds, running hand over his jaw again as he sinks into a seat, looking suddenly weary. "Know plenty about wine, thank you very much," retorts K'del, shoving back, but only very lightly. "Grow my own grapes these days, after all. Not that they've fruited yet." He drops into one of the empty chairs at that table with a sigh, long legs extended out beneath it, his forearms dropping to rest on the table's top. "This," he agrees. "Definitely don't want to be Weyrleader here. And anyone who believes I'd want to be... from what I remember, Cora and Kyouri both went down that rabbit hole of 'women rule and men follow'." Which is obviously bullshit, says his expression. The tightness in R'hin's expression is easily explained by the the aftereffects of the flight, and yet... probably also the words that follow, "You know that Azaylia asked to be put in touch with another goldrider, to get some... training? I sent her to Kyouri," he says, with a spread of hands, though if it's an apology there's no strength behind it. "Hopefully she'll learn the best from her, and not the worst." The caverns girl is back -- familiar enough with flights to have brought them two bottles, and glasses, too. There's a noise from R'hin that might be gratitude but it's drowned out as he grabs one of the bottles by the neck and gulps. K'del doesn't confirm or deny any particular knowledge of Azaylia's relationship with Kyouri, but he does give a pretty clear indication of his feelings on another subject, afterwards. "Doesn't matter to me what she learns. We haven't really spoken since she yelled at me for letting Cadejoth chase Isyath at Fort." He grabs the other bottle, after that, turning it in his hand for a few moments before he follows the other bronzerider's example, and takes a long gulp directly from the bottle. It's a few minutes more of solid drinking before R'hin lowers the bottle, letting it rest in his lap as he regards the other bronzerider. The wine's gone down smoothly enough that there's barely enough roughness to his voice, other than a sudden intensity: "You ought to fucking talk to her. She's getting desperate. Fuck, K'del. She came to me wanting me to be her acting Weyrleader. Me." Like it's the worst possible outcome in the world. "I am not going to get down on my knees and tell her to appoint me, or even just offer my services." K'del snaps that, and seems to regret having done so the moment the words leave - but it's too late, and anyway, he needs another drink. "It's been weeks, and she hasn't managed to pick anyone. Though why she'd think you..." It clearly makes him unhappy, misery compounded by flight loss and frustration... and wine, now, too. The answer comes out a growl: "If you were any younger I'd lock the pair of you in a room with a bottle of wine until fucked or sorted out your differences. As is, one of you has to talk to the other. Or... just who knows who she'll ask next. That person might be worse than me." If that's even possible, and R'hin's fairly grimacing at the idea -- at least until it turns into a wince, and he rests the bottle's side against his jaw for a few moments. He's regained (at least some) of his composure by the time he asks, "Who else does she trust? Who would she ask?" K'del's expression is defiant, perhaps even childishly so, for R'hin's growled response; a moment later, he covers it with the wine bottle, gulping down quite a bite more before he's willing to offer an answer... and even then, his tone is combative. "She doesn't want me for the job," he says. "Or she would have asked. No idea who she'll ask. She's never seemed... especially close to anyone, but the point is, I don't know anymore." R'hin's tone is no less combative as he snaps back: "Don't know? Or don't care?" K'del recoils, as if physically stung by R'hin's tone. "Of course I care," he says, sharply, his words full of emotion. "Never stopped. I'd do anything for High Reaches, no matter how--" He stops himself, lowering his gaze, and slams his fist onto the tabletop instead. Yeah. Like that. There's a hint of satisfaction in R'hin's gaze, and the faintest hint of a smile when K'del slams a fist into the table. "Then go talk to the girl. You don't have to buy her flowers and wine, you don't have to beg. Just talk -- let her know what High Reaches means to you." He goes silent for a moment, gulping his wine, letting the raucous noise of the caverns cover their quiet for a time, gaze straying over a pretty blonde brownrider that walks past, before his gaze finally returns as he says, "You remember what it's like to lead. How difficult, how lonely, how frustrating it is. She needs someone to talk to about all this stuff -- that much is clear." "And if she doesn't want me? If she turns me down?" K'del's ego has already taken a pounding, his expression and his tone suggest. He's morose, now, and staring at the wine bottle as though it holds the answers to everything. "Of course she does. Of course I remember. I just-- I'm tarnished, now. My reputation. My legacy." And feeling very, very sorry for himself, of course. "Then at least you can say you tried, and didn't let your damn big bronzerider ego get in the way of things. Trust me -- I know what a terrible beast that is sometimes." R'hin's chuckling, quietly, but he's getting distracted again, gaze drifting away before it snaps back. "So you're tarnished. You got two choices: try and fix it, or wallow in it. Which one would you prefer?" His lips twist into a smirk: "I went the latter, but you, K'del, are a better man than me." K'del opens his mouth, ready to argue-- and then stops again. His groan might be more good natured if he were less flight-lost. "Fine, fine," he mutters. "I'll talk to her. I'll try. If she won't accept my help, if she chooses someone stupid, it won't be my fault." He drinks again, wiping wine off of his lips with the back of his hand. "I need to get laid. I need... it's easier when you don't care, R'hin, isn't it." The pleased glitter of eyes and nod is all the approval R'hin gives for K'del's decision, and it appears that's about it as far as his dabbling in politics: he's pushing, somewhat unsteadily, to his feet. "I saw a very fine blonde eyeing you over there," he nods towards the hearth area, "And she has a very nice looking brunette friend with her." He waves for a moment, then focuses on K'del, soberly serious for a beat. "It is," he agrees. "But; where would the fun be if were easy?" And then he's offering a palm to help K'del up. K'del's huff of a breath is a little short of laughter, but there's something acknowledging in it, a little half nod. He accepts the palm, still oblivious to the grazes down his hands, and wobbles to his feet. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, okay." It could answer one thing; it could answer another. What's certainly true is that he's eager enough to meet that blonde... and initiate some suggestions of his own. The clap that R'hin gives to K'del's shoulder once he's standing is companionable, and there's even a low-throated chuckle of understanding as they make their way across the caverns towards the pair of riders. It doesn't long for the Monacoan to be suitably distracted entertaining the brunette, either. At least the Benden wine is a shade less likely to give them a horrible hangover the next day, even if the remnants of the fight will make up for it. Not to mention the news that lies in wait for the younger of the pair. Good times. |
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