Logs:A Hungering Heart
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| RL Date: 16 July, 2015 |
| Who: Dee, Ka'ge, Besmernyth, Taeliyth, Zymadiath |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After her trip to the infirmary, Taeliyth encounters two bronzes (taking one up on his offer) and Dee, one rider. |
| Where: Southern Bowl, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 4, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Ranging from mist to drizzle to downpour, rain falls almost unbroken all day long-- that cold, persistent spring rain. |
| Mentions: Aislara/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. |
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>---< Southern Bowl, Fort Weyr(#675RJLs$) >----------------------------------<
This end of the Bowl is grassy and serene, the sparkling blue beyond the
Lake Shore a draw for residents, riders, and dragons alike. An earthslide
has revealed a dramatic view of the mountain slopes beyond the circle of
the Weyr, past the lake, where a faint misty haze often shimmers above the
small Bowl Falls. The Feeding Grounds are fenced off to on the
northeastern end of the lake, just a short walk from the weyrling
barracks, the hot springs, and infirmary.
Ranging from mist to drizzle to downpour, rain falls almost unbroken all
day long-- that cold, persistent spring rain. Something set him off. Maybe it was in part due to Zymadiath's frustration with the less than smooth first hunt, but it couldn't all be blamed on that. The bronze himself doesn't allow Ka'ge to go into the dragon infirmary, which also doesn't help the situation. Soaked, chilled, and annoyed to the brink of being outright angry, Ka'ge and his dragon are just outside the complex in the bowl proper. After an altercation which involved Zymadiath biting the back of his shirt which pulled his hood off to stop him in his place- leaving bloody marks all over his back in a goorey display-, the boy now leans against the dragon's hip. It can't be said that the young bronze is pleased, either, given he too was ignored in light of the unfortunate mishap but he at least is in far better control of his rage, his vengeance, than Ka'ge is. The shadows of the darkling's mind had receded for awhile from Taeliyth, probably in part due to his own reaction. But now they've returned, not so much ghosting this time, instead now with the starkness of night eclipsing anything it's permitted to touch, « We wait. He is angry. » is his warning to the gold and hers, and the 'words' that come from that deep darkness are not absent of their own stinging edge. Taeliyth's welcome for visitors to her mind is an inconvenient path with sharp twigs to snag the at the folds of thought and memory, unkind in their hook, grab and tear. « Is he? » is tart, not heeding the warning nearly as much as she should. « What's spun him up this time, sunshine? » the gold's mind trades sting for smarting sting and giving no indication that they're on their way out until they appear. Dee's arms are curled around her middle, but at least the pair is setting their course toward the the bronze pair and not trying to avoid whatever this is about to be. The darkness is nothing to be grabbed and torn, the figments nothing 'real' to be stopped, but since he is down beneath those layers and layers of blackness, they don't intrude on the thorny wall of Taeliyth's mind. They wait patiently at the periphery, eyes with empty sockets stark against detailess phantasmic faces that are gone as soon as they're apparent as he watches her this way since he can't any other until they appear from the infirmary doorway. « You walked away. » Her, Dee, doesn't matter which is the point of the gravelly, low, unpleasant 'voice's' response. When Ka'ge sees her, he stands, letting his arms fall from their tight fold across his chest. He takes a couple of quick steps to close the distance, but some private exchange stops him short. "You could have said anything." is exasperated. The fact that he cares enough to voice something is most certainly new. Dee stops short at the words directed toward her. Taeliyth is coolly unconcerned. « We were instructed to walk away. What is this really about? » The girl is surprised and shows it. "What was I supposed to say? Aislara-- you were there. She told you what happened, sent us to the infirmary." The brunette's wide eyes are on Ka'ge and his anger. "It was a scrape." Nevermind that she overreacted. Ka'ge gives Dee a long look, the seething that had started all this abated, subdued, as if it really wasn't her who started it. At least, not entirely. "You were-" He pauses, and lifts a hand to rub his face. "Stop." Is not directed at her, but the dragon behind him, uncommonly spoken outloud instead of privately between them. "Forget it. Are you going back to the feeding grounds for her?" Spoken slightly muffled into the glove that covers most of his face before it's pulled away, arm let to drop by his side. When his expression is revealed again, it's washed of whatever it had. The shadows are less quickly relieved of their bitterness, something that seems deeper-wrought than simply being unable to exact revenge for Taeliyth's injury. How could he have something so festered at such a young age? « About you, of course. » The coarsely unpleasant mindvoice gives, a cockiness to it that isn't all unlike a smirk, « And ignoring us. » And by 'us', he clearly means him. « Is she supposed to reward bad behavior? Supposed to laugh when he tries to hurt people she cares about? » The fierceness underlines the pretended lightness of Taeliyth's returning comment. She is protective of these people too. These people that are a part of their class, their Weyr. Taeliyth seems less tolerant than Dee, Dee who's face screws up in frustration as she looks at him. "I'm just trying to get through today, Ka'ge. And then tomorrow. And then the day after. And however many days I have to get through." This is said as simple defense. It doesn't answer the question of their destination, that's not this moment of the journey. « You would consider concern being bad behavior? » The night questions in return, ignoring the truths to Taeliyth's projection that are far deeper than that. Layers upon layers begin to mask the bitterness, pulling it back like something being engulfed by phantasmic figments like ghostly fingers. It's not relieved, most certainly not, simply hidden amidst darkness. In its place, Zymadiath leaves only his smugness, « She's the cause for most of his decisions lately. » Ka'ge stares at Dee, perhaps dumbfounded, struck wordless for a beat or two more, "I was just-" He starts. Is this defending himself? Why? His brow furrows and he looks down at his gloves as he pulls one on a little tighter. That uneasy, idle thing he does especially when he doesn't wear a hood. That thing that helps to suggest his social skills in awkward situations aren't the most practiced in his untold upbringing. "Then get through it. I'll be around." Is what he resolves to say as the most neutral concept he can come up with, not looking back up for it. « Being an ass is really one of his finer ones, » Taelyith concisely highlights the actual bad behavior and the quality of Ka'ge's recent decisions. Arguably though, her own might be called into question since a tendril of thought motivated by true hunger and weariness extends privately to another unsettling bronze. « Besmernyth, I'm injured, » Poor thing! « Though it pains me, » the injury or the asking he claimed wouldn't, « would you please bring me breakfast? I'm outside the infirmary. » This must be exactly where they'd like carcasses and weyrling gold feasting. Perhaps she lost too much ichor for intelligence not to have seeped out with it, or maybe she's just as pissed with her dark clutchmate as his lifemate is or was with hers. Dee is, of course, oblivious as she lets her arms fall away. "I'm trying. I don't-- I don't have a lot of energy to figure out what I should and shouldn't be doing or saying with you. I'm sorry if I'm messing everything up." That seems to be the roll she's on though. There is nothing from Besmernyth at first. He may as well be nonexistent, until the fog rolls awake and mist settles around the cold bleakness that is his consciousness. « It pains you? That won't do. You will have to keep practicing. » The fog shifts, and the warmth of his inviting fire is being kindled for her. There is a span of time where she must wait -- he does not come immediately, and coerces when he appears from somewhere, « Porcine, my dear? A wherry? » "Don't worry about it." Ka'ge breezes over the subject, already turning such that his shoulder is to her and he doesn't look up from his gloves. "It, me." He corrects, with a lazy, half-hearted grin. "I'm not going anywhere." Obviously, they're all chained here for at least a while. « He's less-so, to her. » The arrogant shadows respond, the ebb and flow of the intangible figments keeping to the tempo of deliberate nightmares, but seeming to slowly release their eclipse of the outskirts of the young gold's brambles. It's clearly not an apology nor an excuse for his behavior, more like he's accepting of it. Approves of it, even, but the harsh mindvoice wouldn't give her more than that. Zymadiath recollects his heavy, cape-like dark wings against his slightly less-dark back as he begins to turn away in time with Ka'ge's steps. « Only some things get easier with practice, » Taeliyth tells Besmernyth dryly, and a quipped, « Nothing like a little bacon for breakfast, » in answer before she shifts her attention back to the physically present bronze. « He doesn't see her then. » It's nearly dismissive. « Do you know why I chose her? » Taeliyth asks Zymadiath baitingly. Dee starts to step after Ka'ge, perhaps to stop him when she has to twist back to give her lifemate a surprised look, "What do you mean 'we have to wait for breakfast'?" It escapes her audibly before she realizes it has, frowning at whatever silent response she's offered. Ask and ye shall receive is the lesson here. Another pensive silence falls in the elder dragon and then the hearth blazes to life. He is on the edge if that warmth, chill himself as he maneuvers to a landing a short distance from the infirmary entrance with a pig between his jaws, almost tenderly. It doesn't move, but still bleeds. He regards the scene before him passively - two Weyrlings pairs, nothing odd - and though his eyes linger on Ka'ge and Zymadiath, it is Taeliyth who has his attention. « Breakfast is served, » is as he stretches himself to place the beast down nearby Dee and the young queen, and certainly his, « Hello, Zymadiath, » is only afterthought. « You figured it out? » The arrogant gravelly voice from the blackness returns, equally baiting if not provoking. Seething from the depths of that darkness is bitterness, annoyance, nigh tangible- at least by the mental sensation of it. Though it's hard to tell whether that flares because of Taeliyth's comment of Ka'ge's lack-of-observation or the fact that a familiar adult bronze has joined them with a particular gift. The figments which writhe and dance don't change in rhythm, but the layers, the deepness of the shadows doesn't hide the disapproval of the fact Besmernyth has arrived. Bad timing more than anything else. Both weyrling boy and bronze pause, looking up at X'vin's dragon with equivalently physically unreadable expressions as minds take a breath of a moment to understand why. Zymadiath's shadows are more a stark darkness for the afterthought to meet. Ka'ge gives a faint sigh and keeps walking, leaving his back to Dee. Zymadiath, on the other hand, mantles his dark wings slowly to their not-yet-vast-enough expanse. « I thought it was just a scrape. » He chastises blatantly but lowly under his cloak of night, opened to both young queen and older bronze. Taeliyth doesn't bother to answer Zymadiath's arrogance. « She is the heart, » she explains, notice that her words are available to the older dragon as well. « But her boundaries... » She considers how to express it. « He's kind to the heart while seeking to take off a hand. » Does Zymadiath understand? Perhaps the briefest glimpse that she offers into herself, to the heart tree with its deep roots that spread through the Weyr, that holds connects her to not only the land but those that dwell in it: they are a part of her and she of them. Dee? She just doesn't realize she's been transplanted yet. Now, onto more pleasant things: breakfast. « It is, but I'm hungry and Besmernyth is performing an experiment on my pride. » There's amusement for that, and gratitude (though not an over-abundance). « Thank you, Besmernyth. » As evidence of her hunger, the tear into the flesh is vicious and satisfying. « Her pride is holding up well, » Besmernyth delivers evenly, like some hard-to-please mentor. Their exchange seems not to concern him at all, and he disregards it wholesale, instead, « You're always welcome, you need only ask, » as a friendly reminder, as he stands and begins...not lumbering, as his size might suggest, but rather slinking into the bowl proper, his eyes on some prize. If his gaze lingers on Zymadiath and Ka'ge for a few moments longer than might be considered polite, well. There is no farewell, save a swish of his tail and the sudden withdrawal of his sensations: no warmth, no bitter cold, no mist, no fog. Just gone. Zymadiath is watchful of the older bronze, offering little but the controlled whirl of his faceted eyes. But that gaze shifts to the young gold, staring at her. The darkness slips away from their vigilant- and, one couldn't say hesitant for Zymadiath but something similar- touch of Besmernyth's mind, like shadows receding from the touch of sunlight- not that the Besmernyth is, exactly, sunny. The ghostly dance, the shaping and unshaping of indistinct figures amidst Taeliyth's brambles and, shortly, oozing just slightly beyond at that glimpse, pauses. There's a hitch that emits no confusion, yet there's no mistaking that that's what it is. How could she know? The shadows wonder. She can't, the shadows decide in the breath of another moment and he turns his head away. Whatever arrogance there was from him, that glimpse she gave, that insight she offered apparently garnered a sense of respect, appreciation. Maybe? It's faint, but the night is immense, vast but something akin to it is almost, almost at the surface. « She is the heart. » The blackness agrees in its low, rough 'tones', « But also roots. » Important, that says, and implies the prevention of something more. « We leave you to eat. » Is serious more than smug, as the young dragon draws into his naturally stalking pace to follow after the boy that is already almost to the weyrling complex. Fortunately, dragons don't need their mouths to talk. If they did, Taeliyth's farewell to Besmernyth and her nearly casual warning to the other departing bronze might be impossible. « Zymadiath, » his name is to get his attention, her tone deceptively gentle, « She is the heart. But he gets her whole or not at all. Please ensure he knows that if he continues to do as he does, I will interfere. » The last word seems to have particular meaning. She could've chosen intervene or terms less innocuous; Taeliyth being interfering is something one only desires if she's doing it on one's behalf (and sometimes not even then). Touches of night linger on the horizon of Taeliyth's mind when she holds his attention with such directness. He doesn't offer a physical pause as he continues his stalking gait to catch up with his disconnected rider, but it's clear to her at least that he's giving what she requests. « It will be a difficult path. » The intrigue and reasoning behind that is masked, disappearing into his darkness, but the reference is utterly towards himself and Ka'ge. A sort of... agreeing with Taeliyth without actually doing so. And with that hint and nothing more, the remainder of his ghosts leave her. Just as the pair does, departing the bowl for the complex. « Some paths are. » Taeliyth lacks sympathy, though the thought brings briefly to mind the sprawl of twisting paths ever within her, without her, and in her notice. She's placed the necessary fork in Ka'ge's. It's up to him-- to them-- to navigate it. |
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