Logs:A Flower Amongst Deadblooms
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 15 June, 2013 |
| Who: R'co, Rhaelyn |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: R'co ruffles Rhaelyn's feathers. |
| Where: Living Cavern |
| When: Day 22, Month 13, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Heavy rain in the middle of winter only means that the temperature is only a few degrees above freezing; it's more miserable for the soaking torrents. |
  |
| Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr Stalactites hang high above this enormous cavern like a jagged chandelier or an inversion of the Spires themselves, but shadows cling to them instead of light. Below lie great tables arranged in rows, each large enough to serve a fighting wing, while in the nooks and alcoves around the cavern's edge sit more sensibly-sized tables, from six- and eight-seaters down to intimate spots for just a couple of diners. The only really open space is around the kitchen entrance, smelling of food and rarely quiet, and by the nearby serving tables with their long buffet of the day's offerings. Tapestries on the smooth walls -- some faded and others newly woven -- only slightly mute the sea of sound when a meal is in full swing, but they add cheerfulness augmented by the glowlight from wall sconces and the centerpieces of each table. Still, shadows always creep along the ceiling and into the mouths of the exits -- the myriad small hallways at one end of the cavern and, at the other, the twisting tunnel to the bowl near an array of coathooks and and hatracks -- and late at night, when the glows are allowed to dim, the chamber can seem very dark indeed. The evening's wearing on, and yet the living caverns remain relatively full, given the incessant icy rain that's flooding the world outside. And when there's the heat from the hearth and the warmth of gathered bodies, why bother to go out? Several tables have set up after-hours games, dragonpoker and the like, and there's still a few pockets eating, or helping themselves to the small spread that remains from the evening meal. Coming in from the lower caverns entrance, with his blonde hair sticking damply to his forehead and the sweet, fruity scent of mango lingering heavily around him, is R'co, dressed in his figure-hugging riding leathers, knee-high boots, and a warm shirt, over which he wears a winter-worthy waistcoat. A little elaborate for the living caverns perhaps, but he doesn't seem to care over-much as he works his way through the crowd towards what's left of the food, where he starts to help himself. Much like the cold weather outside, Rhaelyn comes in with her usual chill. She's not dressed in leathers though, insteasd she has on a dress--of all things. It's not until the heavy layers of the dark, woold and fur cloak whisper off of her in wet shudders does the bright colors of her purple brocade come into view. The shimmering threads catch the light as she hangs up the cloak. Idly she smooths hands over her wet ringlets of hair, letting out a quiet sigh of frustration, "I don't care how much care I take--I can't make it down from the ledge without getting a face /full/ of snow or rain or...." She's muttering to herself, not loud enough to draw much attention though. As she turns, she spots her wingmates and begins to move in that direction, seeing R'co out of the corner of her eye, her expression turning rather wary. Something just /wrong/ with that tropcial smell about him. It makes her head turn to peer at him through slightly narrowed eyes. Perhaps he's got a sense for knowing when he's been looked at in such a way, because R'co, with his plate full, turns to catch Rhaelyn peering his way. The narrow-eyed look is returned with a pursed-lipped smile and a quirk ofone blonde brow beneath his damp forelock, before he runs light blue eyes over the woman's ensemble - ending with an approving little purse of his lips. With his plate in one hand and a drink in the other, the brownrider weaves his way toward the woman, pausing a step or so away from her. "So brave of you to wear such a stunning dress on a night like this, darling. It certainly makes you stand out - a flower amongst deadblooms, perhaps?" The latter is, of course, spoken in a slightly lowered tone - he's not out to intentionally insult those less-decadently dressed caverns denizens. Rhaelyn's not really sure what to say. It's obvious from her hesitation and the way her head recoils slightly when R'co comes closer. It gives her that additional vantage as a tall woman to size him up and down, as though she's thinking the best way to squish him. "Is it? Brave? Is the selection of clothing to wear at dinner not just fashion but a means to do battle?" She has a very strange accent, the way she turns her words rather...old worldy. The ex-exile turned dragonrider tries to measure up the man but aside from the chill in her gaze, there's no particular emotion given to what she might think about it. The final judgement still being weighed out behind the cool ice of her expression. "Don't let me keep you from dinner. dah-ling." R'co's lips quirk into a canted smile at her response. "Brave, darling, because I'd be worried of getting that beautiful hem dragged through the mud outside." He looks down to her feet, searching, no doubt, for a trace of the outdoors dragged in. "There is always a time to show off such fine fashion sense, even if not everyone understands as much." This time, his blue-eyed gaze is cast around the living cavern, slightly disdainfully. "Which is precisely why I was drawn to you tonight, doll. Beautiful, good taste, sharp tongue... you're wasted in here, darling. We could make such a statement if we were elsewhere." Deveriteauxth> Amareth stretches out her wings and yawns softly and she blink-blinks towards the living cavern. Nope, not getting comfortable. She lets out a little puff of frosty breath looking do disapointed suddenly. Cold eyes sweep over R'co's body and then at his plate of food and then settles back on his face, "I am certain that the cleaning girls can get the mud off my hem and my satin slippers." Yes, the toes of those are a bit of a mess thanks to waddling in in that mess out there. Rhaelyn looks like she might snatch up the fork from the brownrider's plate plate and shank him but somehow schools her features and sills her hand before thought can become deed. "I'm sorry...just where is this 'elsewhere' you /dream/ of in that silly little head of yours?" Deveriteauxth> Deveriteauxth is, similarly, waiting by the living cavern for his own rider, though he's hunched over by the wall of the bowl and not at all pleased by the downpour. Amareth's movement catches his attention, and he snorts warm breath back at her, wings rustling as he settles them back against his sides. His icy-cool, aniseed mind reaches out to hers - « There's less water if you stand over here. » And, one of those just tucked-in wings is raised slightly; perhaps as a canopy offering. Deveriteauxth> Amareth tips her head away from watching the living cavern and she gives the brown a rather cheerful warble, not troubled much with the weather. Sizing up the wing that's offered to shelter with a grateful thought sent his way for it but her words are distracted. « I don't think I'm going to be long....» SHe announces in the same cheerful tone. Her strangely shaped scorpion tail swishes behind her and she flexes her wings in aggitation. "Oh, sweetheart, I wouldn't dare divulge what I'm dreaming about, but I can tell you what I'm imagining." There's apparently a difference between the two, in R'co's mind. Regardless of that threatening look, he takes a tiny step towards her, setting his plate and drink down on the nearest table. So what if there's people there already? The blonde dips his gaze, running it over the greenrider's dress once more. "Dinner and drinks somewhere lush, for a start. My treat, naturally... somewhere like, oh, Fort's Glass Fountain. And then, the only place I can imagien that dress looking even better is hung up in my weyr... or on me. With a little padding down the front, perhaps." His slender-fingered hands raise up in front of his chest, curled into a groping gesture as he gauges just how much padding he might need. Deveriteauxth> Deveriteauxth rumblepurrs a response, curling his wing tightly back against himself. « Mine is talking to yours, » he states in his raspy, accented tone. « Does she not want to stay inside for longer? » His personal preference is very clear: he wants to be out of the rain. Rhaelyn's voice is smooth and quiet, but still certainly confident, "The day that I let you take me somewhere 'lush' and let you prance around in my dress is the day that the red star comes floating out of my ass." There's no smile, no flirting, just a cold ice wall up and she waits for the rider to--step away. She waits a moment longer if she needs to to make sure that her remark is sinking in home. "Does that shit really work on girls?" She shoulders past the brownrider and mutters about getting food go 'go'. R'co's expression changes quickly - from mild surprise at her response, to outright amusement. "Oh, darling, I'm quite sure I've seen that in a show down Nerat-way; bawdy girls they've got down there. Saucy sailors, too. You're not from there, are you?" He turns to keep facing her when she bustles past, a crooked grin playing on his plush lips. "Sweetheart, if it didn't, I'd be spending tonight alone. You're welcome to join us, of course." Rhaelyn grabs up a plate and begins filling it with a few finger-food items, "trust me, I'm not from there." She doesn't even address the bawdy comment, she's as far from that as night is from day. Instead she offers a chilly look over her shoulder. "I guess you can keep huffing and puffing, but it's not going to get me out of my dress or my underpinnings." At least it's fair warning. "There's plenty to be done while fully dressed, darling." R'co smirks, picking up his dinner plate and glass, to take a sip from the latter. "Besides, you're really not what I was looking for tonight, anyway. Not unless you've got something very well hidden under those skirts, which is why you're not allowing me in there? Although, even then..." He sizes her up again, and shrugs gently. "I do prefer my lovers to come a little more endowed. I suppose you've got your looks and dress sense going for you, though, haven't you?" Rhaelyn states quietly, "You're disgusting. And to be honest, I don't really care what you're looking for tonight." SHe grabs a flask of wine and gives R'co a long look and then rolls her eyes. "I'm sure I should be somehow flattered, but you come across as extremely insulting. I don't have a cock if that's what you mean. And my pussy is utterly off limits to you." She lifts her chin in a haughty manner and then heads for the bowl again, yanking her heavy cloak down, almost knocking the whole rack with her as she goes. "Good /day/..." Watching with absolute amusement as the greenrider stalks off, R'co can't help but call out after her, "You let me know if you change your mind, darling! I've not had my back raked in forever." And, once she's gone, he finds himself more hospitable company in the form of his fellow Snowdrift riders. |
Leave A Comment