Logs:A Conjugal Visit
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| RL Date: 24 November, 2012 |
| Who: Barnabas, I'kris |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Barnabas sneaks in to visit I'kris. It's probably appreciated. |
| Where: Ground Weyr Prison, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 5, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions |
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| It's been some weeks, now, since I'kris' incarceration, and little has changed during that time. Dragonrider guards block the stairs to the ground, day and night, while their dragons keep watch from the ledge: there's no way out. Svissath spends most of his time curled up in the wallow, inside, but he's escorted into the air daily to stretch his wings - no doubt the whole weyr has seen that, the greyed, shrunken dragon flanked by others during his turn about the bowl sky. For the guards, this duty can't be much fun - it's boring, for one thing, and for another? The man in there murdered their Weyrwoman, or so it is commonly believed. Today, the pair on duty are playing at dice, and though relatively conscientious about their duty, are easily identified as a weaker link in this chain of protectors: if anyone is going to let someone in to see the prisoner, it would be them. Barnabas wasn't a master spy by any stretch of the imagination, but in truth that worked in his benefit. Why would such a conspicuous visitor lie about being the new Attache of Azaylia? Why would he lie about being there on her behalf? He was practically living in her weyr, right? With just a quick frisk for any obvious weaponry, he was let right in without much more than raised eyebrow or two. "Hey Icky! Wake yer ass up, y'got a visitor!" Still all smiles and good humor despite the circumstances. "They feedin you okay down here?" He speaks as he enters, addressing the prisoner before even landing eyes on him. I'kris has not - precisely - had many visitors in the past few weeks; there aren't many people brave enough to try and talk their way in, and out-weyr visitors (the people most likely to want to see him) have certainly not been allowed anywhere near. And so it takes the prisoner a few moments to really comprehend this new change, and longer still for him to appear in the doorway that separates the main room of this weyr to the smaller bedchamber behind. He's gaunt and pale beneath the tawny hue of his skin, and practically vibrating with nervous energy. His brown, in contrast, doesn't even glance up. "What--" begins I'kris, taking another half-step forward, "are you doing here?" And then, suddenly panicked and all-but-hysterical, his fists lifting: "They've sent you to kill me, haven't they. I knew they would eventually." The room is examined before it's primary occupant, Bones glancing around to check the accommodations. Lower lip is jutted out as he gave a few silent nods in appreciation, a look that universally says 'not bad' without needing to vocalize it. It isn't until the sudden outburst of accusation that his head suddenly turns to I'kris, who seems ready for a fight. "Whoa, damn." He tugs his hands from his pockets to hold them palm forward, smiling his way through the defense of himself. "I ain't here to kill you. If they wanted you dead all quiet like they'd probably just... I dunno, poison your tea or somethin'." The couch is taken casually, the big man leaning back into it with hands clasped behind his head. "Im kinda flattered though. Y'really think I could be an assasin? Sounds like a gig that'd pay real well. Maybe I ought to look into it." It's that mention of poisoning his tea that has I'kris blanching - and then dropping his gaze so that he's focusing upon the floor, instead. At least his fists drop. In fact, he ends up leaning up against the nearest wall rather as though he needs the support in order to stop his legs from buckling. "Why else would you be here?" he asks, without looking on Bones' direction. "They won't let anyone else see me, as far as I can tell. Or is it just that having been accused of something, no one cares to see me anymore? Not even my family." His bitterness is still etched in mania: it's utterly clear that his mind does not rest easy. I'kris' language, both physical and verbal, is watched carefully by his visitor. There isn't much subtley to it that needs deciphering. "Cuz I wanted to see ya?" He gives a shrug of his shoulders from his spot on the couch, smile still big and bright. "Nah, that ain't fair. You've been poked and prodded plenty already, might as well be straight with ya." He stands up from his taken seat almost as quickly as he had lounged into it, shoving four fingers on each hand into his pockets. "I wanted to see how you were holding up. With the charges, the prison." His smile fades some as he approaches the wall I'kris chose as his place of rest, picking a spot near him to lean. "Not so good, looks like." "I want to go home," says I'kris, and though he's been dry-eyed for weeks, now (ever since an outburst after being told that H'kon had come up clean, not that Barnabas can know that), there are tears in the corners of his eyes, now. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supp--" He stops himself, glancing in the direction of Bones' feet, though he can't seem to bring himself to lift it any further towards the other man's face. "Maybe you should kill me." "... Mngh." The sound was only quiet due to Bones' intentional restraint. It isn't quite a growl, isn't quite a grunt, but somewhere in-between the two. A whimper. A very manly whimper, should anybody question it. "I ain't gonna." He pushes himself up from his spot and walks straight to the young rider. "C'mere." He unfurled an impressive wingspan, and then put it to use wrapping around I'kris' arms and shoulders. It was tight hug, no gentle coddling or sweet rocking. "Ain't no use thinkin how things shoulda been, kid. And ain't no use thinkin bout how things will be, neither. Only way to keep level is to keep to the right now." It says a lot about how starved I'kris is for human contact that he melts into Barnabas embrace - even if the promised tears don't quite go so far as to turn into outright crying. His face is red, though, and his words muffled beneath emotion (and no doubt Barnabas' chest or thereabouts too). "I don't know what they're going to do to me. Maybe they're going to keep me here forever. I won't-- I can't do that. I can't. If they're going to do that then I just want to die. I think I'm going crazy. Svissath--" That, however, is a sentence he can't even bring himself to finish. The squeeze only gets a little more firm at the brownrider's words, Bones being mindful not to squeeze the air right from his lungs. Even though seems to be what he wants. His words are soft but still spoken with that unique growl that made them uniquely his. "Boy, you ain't takin' my advice too good, are ya Ikky?" He can't help but smile a little as he looks down at the top of I'kris' head, taking a moment to enjoy his joke before quickly getting back to more important words. "But if you won't listen to me bout not worryin, then maybe y'can at least hear me out on why you don't gotta worry so hard. Y'aint dead yet. Y'aint in real prison. I ain't pretendin I got inside info here but... when I put my first man down, didn't take them more than a night to figure out where to put me. They ain't made a decision on you yet, kid. There's hope in that." The squeeze only gets a little more firm at the brownrider's words, Bones being mindful not to squeeze the air right from his lungs. Even though seems to be what he wants. His words are soft but still spoken with that unique growl that made them uniquely his. "Boy, you ain't takin' my advice too good, are ya Ikky?" He can't help but smile a little as he looks down at the top of I'kris' head, taking a moment to enjoy his joke before quickly getting back to more important words. "But if you won't listen to me bout not worryin, then maybe y'can at least hear me out on why you don't gotta worry so hard. Y'aint dead yet. Y'aint in real prison. I ain't pretendin I got inside info here but... when I put my first man down, didn't take them more than a night to figure out where to put me. They ain't made a decision on you yet, kid. There's hope in that." "I'm trying," says I'kris, in that awful, beaten tone of voice of his. But he takes in a deep breath, and then begins to try and pull away: trying to compose himself. "They can't figure out what to do with me because of Svissath," he says, dully. "Because he didn't do anything wrong, and any way they can punish me punishes him. I think he's been punished enough. But what can they do? If they kill me, they kill him too. And maybe that's why it would be better. At least then he wouldn't hurt anymore, would he? He'd be free." I'kris is let free of the hug with a reluctant sigh, fingers returning to comfortable pockets. "You brought Svissath along for the ride when you killed her." He actually speaks the truth aloud, but there's no judgement in it. "But I ain't here to lecture you okay? You know you fucked up. You've had nothin but consequences hung over your head." He follows after I'kris, and puts a hand on his shoulder. "I ain't here to add to that. I just thought... y'know, you might want need somebody to hang with. Somebody who don't give a fuck about none of this." He gives a small smile, a fraction of it's former glory, but more genuine in it's reservation. "How about it?" It's only the truth, that remark about Svissath, and if I'kris is wide-eyed and unhappy about it, he still can't bring himself to disagree. "I-- thanks. I'd like that." He doesn't - probably can't - actually smile, but his shoulders slump into a position that's slightly more relaxed. He's not the best of company, for as long as Barnabas stays, but... he does seem faintly cheered by the visit. It's something. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy) left a comment on Sun, 25 Nov 2012 02:22:17 GMT.
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=< Poor ickle Ikky baboo... ~<3
I still love that he's got at least one friend, 'cause Bones is so effed up. >_>
Brieli (Brieli) left a comment on Sun, 25 Nov 2012 02:23:34 GMT.
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I think it's pretty nice of B. to tell him the truth, even if it's bad.
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