Logs:A Light In Darkness
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| RL Date: 5 September, 2015 |
| Who: Tacuseth, Aeaeth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Tacuseth seeks out for solace during Jo's turmoil. |
| Where: A Tavern, Honshu area |
| When: Day 25, Month 9, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Jo/Mentions, Yesia/Mentions, R'hin/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions, K'del/Mentions |
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| It's a faint call. Familiar. Shadowy. It seems far away and it's tinged with the brilliant heat of the southern sun. Tacuseth's desert shadows are thin - dim - but he's reaching out all the same as if trying to siphon off some of her sweetness and some of her 'goodness'. No words are given, but there's pain. There's sadness. (To Aeaeth from Tacuseth) What meets Tacuseth is boredom as it often is, but it's not entirely terrible. There are curtains drawn to separate her and Yesia, big gauzy contraptions of orange and yellow, so she doesn't have to see what is going on in there, with whoever. It is Tacuseth that lights her up, in spots of bright color and wriggly ribbons like excited dogs to wrap around him, her very favorite. « Tacuseth, » is pleased in technicolor, « don't be sad. » That simple. Stop it. She doesn't ask why he's sad. (To Tacuseth from Aeaeth) Aeaeth's touch seems to draw comfort for the blue, and Tacuseth's shadows seem to pick up a bit of glow from her. His need for her is bare, nothing hiding in the darkness that is sweeping through him. « My Aeaeth, » is all he says, his mindvoice a mere whisper - a lesser shell than his usual robust self. « I'm happy with you, sweets, » comes last then, keeping the image of a real hot southern sun. (To Aeaeth from Tacuseth) Even so far away, Aeaeth is empathetic. Her concern rings in bells at separate cadences, big, rolling sounds like the huge brass bells of clock towers. « My favorite shade of blue, » Aeaeth responds fondly, so much less fickle than her rider in whom she places her affections. « You are not here, » she points out, not that distance means a thing to dragons. « Should I come to you? What's wrong? Can I help? » And again, insistently, « Please don't be sad. » (To Tacuseth from Aeaeth) « Don' worry, sweets, » Tacuseth makes an effort to rein in the darkness - the deep sadness spilling - the shadows thinning even more as indication of making an effort. « Just hearin' you makes me less. I am not, » he then responds, the heat emanating. « We were called, and now she's-- » Silence. « Soon, » he chooses to say again after a moment, trying to inject the cool desert winds to soothe through the sweltering heat. « We need to go outside of Crom. We want ya to join us. » More silence before a subdued, « Jo needs her, » is given quietly. « But I've got her for now, sweets. » (To Aeaeth from Tacuseth) Light. Aeaeth knows light - is light in refracting wave-patterns she understands intimately. She can inject it into his shadows to dispel them as far as she dares, helping lighten their load, adding color to an otherwise bleak landscape; a tree, a river to dispel the cold. A cloud, to block the desert sun if it shows. But telling her not to worry is like asking her not to think about Yesia; it's simply not possible. « I don't know what happened, » obviously, « but I am sorry. » The bells toll, melancholy and rolling - but slowing, for gently traipsing piano notes that would elicit hope from even the most stingy of hearts. « She is okay? She will be okay? It is nothing so bad as Cadejoth's, is it? » And for Crom, her answer is immediate, for once; she doesn't consult before, « We will come. Whatever you need. » The colors lend weight to the cold desert wasteland building up, darkness at the corners before the area starts to brighten piece by piece. « It's alright, sweets, » Tacuseth soothes, seeming to be warming from her voice - from her. « I wish I could say. They will not....let me say it. » His desert blue shadows are like a caress against her bells, before he answers on his lady, « She is not hurt like Cadejoth's. But it is deep. She hurts. Thanks, sweets, » on them coming with them, his relief palpable. « I dunno if she'll be okay, but, ya can help keep her calm. » Lighter and calmer, « We're goin' to look at canine pups. We can't eat them, though. » He must have asked, apparently. Aeaeth does not push the way that Yesia would. Her curiosity is plain when the bells don't cover it, and it hangs reluctantly, lingering. The desire to understand is a low ache. « Yesia won't be ready for some time. I would ask her to stop, if I could. For yours. To help. I think she'd come, if not for Roszadyth. » And still her light spreads, fragmenting in golds, purples, pinks. Still, she allows him the distraction instead of the question she longs deeply to ask, « Canines. What would you do with them? They have us. » And what else could there be? Tacuseth seems to want to give away something to his green lady - anything - and so when he lights on something, « She's learned somethin' very sad about a friend, » seems to be the best he can do, continuing to dwell in those bells and colors. « She doesn' have many of those. » He doesn't seem surprised to hear about the queen rising, his confirmation of that being « We left before she rose. We left before Niahvth, too. Ask me what ya wish, sweets, » for he can sense well, the cold winds much calmer since talking with her. « If I can, I will answer. We're gettin' pups for the Greenfields pups, » but it is accompanied with a visual of children from the hold, playing in the hold's courtyard. « This business with Cadejoth's has upset them, » he goes on to say. « Jo wants to get them a good distraction until things get better. » « Oh. I'm sorry, Tacuseth. Yesia will try. She told me. She promised she would try. » It's the best she can offer. She's felt that in diluted fashion, the strange grief Yesia felt when her bluerider friend went to Igen, but it still doesn't touch the feelings he brought at the beginning of the conversation. « Will she get one? To distract her, from being sad? » Logic, and somehow still not that insistence on understanding what is causing so much grief, in counterpoint to the morning. Tacuseth blends his shadows to his Aeaeth's colors in gratitude, his uncharacteristic gentleness laid bare. He doesn't beg for more, of course. He appears content - as much as content he can be in the situation - « I dunno if a pup will work for her, » he answers, a touch sad. « I asked her that and she denied it. She's tryin' to not think about it, but... » Well. Maybe Aeaeth knows how those things go with strange grief. « I just wanna make sure she's not alone too much right now, » he sends, those shadows a little warmer than before. « It's not good when she's alone, and it's what she's tryin' to....I won't let her. Thanks, sweets. I feel better, » talking to her, his warmth says for him. « I will try'n make her feel better cuz of it. » For all she can be selfish, Aeaeth nudges him gently with her own mind, the ribbons cracking Iike the gentlest of whips. « Be with her. I will wait for you. When you come home, I can come visit you. I am no puppy, and I am not Yesia, » not entirely, « but I like your rider very much. I don't want her to hurt anymore than I want that for Yesia. Her happiness is yours. » And so, anything but happiness is unacceptable. She's made her choices, and he is one of them. « I'll wait, » she repeats, drifting. She leaves watercolor stains for him to remember her by as she withdraws, her last form of insistence that he not split his focus when something is so plainly wrong. For all the turmoil that Tacuseth was in at the beginning, his winds and shadows that linger are much calmer. « Thanks, » he sends again, this time the words encompassing all. « Yer a darling. I will let her know. I won' let her stay down in this place for long. » Aeaeth will wait and so he's turning back to his convict rider when she withdraws, his shadows lingering just a touch longer in meld with those watercolor stains before his attention is taken in wholly again. |
Comments
Squishy (08:38, 7 September 2015 (PDT)) said...
Tacuseth and Aeaeth are always so sweet.
Alida (15:58, 7 September 2015 (PDT)) said...
What Squishy said. :) Ilicaeth 'picked' his bestest dragon buddy well. He's closer to Tac than any of his clutch, than any other dragon. Only Hraedhyth was as close, though in a somewhat different way, for different reasons.
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