Logs:A Night With The Boys
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| RL Date: 10 July, 2011 |
| Who: Devaki, Jaques, Tomaeran |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Boys Night Out turns... unfun. |
| Where: Outside High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 7, Month 3, Turn 26 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: It is a rare day of cloudless sunshine, though the temperatures are markedly colder. |
| Mentions: Iolene/Mentions, Rhaelyn/Mentions, Riorde/Mentions, Seani/Mentions |
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| Outside High Reaches Weyr Impressive enough at a distance, up close, the sheer size of the mountain is imposing -- to the vulnerable, overwhelming -- the more so as its crown of spires, distinguishing High Reaches from every other Weyr on Pern, thrusts long fingers of rock into the sky. The plateau just short of the Weyr's shadowy entrance can seem very small and very flat at the best of times, pinned as it is against the side of the mountain, but at least it's a refuge from the narrow, tight-kinked road that has to twist its way through the rest of the mountain range to reach the rest of Pern. It's no coincidence that this -- the furthest place that the exiles are allowed to go -- is the location that Devaki's arranged to meet his cousins just after the dinner hour. There's some suitable rocks that serve for a table, and presumably chairs, and Devaki's managed to secure himself a good stash of ale and mugs. Thankfully, there's no snowfall and no wind, so while chill, the weather's no more unbearable than a cool winter's day on the island. Devaki himself has staked out one of the rocks, and is studying the view with an odd expression of apprehension. Tomaeran's swaggering footsteps carry him out into the chill evening air, the crunch of his feet upon the snow making his arrival audible even before his, "Nice view," confirms his presence. The young man gives Devaki's arrangement a glancing look as he swings himself onto one of the boulders opposite, letting his legs stretch out wherever he can find space for them. "At least it isn't fucking /snowing/ for once." Though happy enough to come, Jaques dawdles when it comes time, fiddling with his coat and walking slowly as he heads toward the meet-up. Eventually, though, he turns up not far behind Tomaeran. "Hey," is his simple greeting, though he doesn't sit quite yet. Instead, "Nice out," he agrees re: the snow. "For once," Devaki agrees with a disdainful look at his boots. "Looking forward to the warmer weather. All these /clothes/--" it seems like an odd thing to complain about it, but over twenty three years of habit are hard to break. As Tomaeran seats himself, Devaki leans forward to fill two mugs -- and a third, for Jaques, along with a nod. "Did you guys hear about the girls? Figures they fight when none of us are there to watch." He sounds -- distinctly disappointed at missing such an event. "I'm not sure if I believe it /actually/ gets warm," says Tom, scuffing his boot against some of the piled up snow, pristine until so recently. He reaches for the mug, taking it in both hands though, as yet, he doesn't drink from it; instead, he glances at Jaques, watching the younger man vaguely before, in response to Dev, "I sure as shells did. Wish I'd seen it." A smirk settles to his lips, tinged with amusement. "Rhaelyn and Riorde look /awful/. Wish I'd seen it." A minute later, Jaques leans over to brush the snow from one of the rocks. Then, he sits. "Are they okay, though?" is more his concern, while everybody is imagining the girl-fight. "And Io, too. Apparently they dragged her in the middle of it, is what Evie said?" He glances between the two; what have they heard? "If it was the island, someone would've yelled and we could've come running--" Devaki's tone is wistful, and he lifts the mug to his lips, taking a gulp. There's a grimace that is more reaction to an unexpected taste than any certain dislike, and he takes another gulp before he says, "They're okay -- Ri, and Io, anyway. I haven't seen Rhae yet, but Ri said Io leapt in fists flailing looking like her Grams," there's an odd tone there when he talks about Iolene. Approving and fond and discomforted all in one. He bobs his head towards the third mug in silent invitation to Jaques. Tomaeran shoots a glance at Devaki at the sound of that tone when he talks about Iolene; his expression is somewhat questioning, even wary. "I saw Rhaelyn. She looks like her face has been pounded into mush. She was pretty upset about the whole thing. About what Riorde did." It's not unlike him to support the bitchy teenager, but he seems distinctly firm about it, almost surprisingly so. After a sip from his drink, "On the island, they wouldn't have broken an egg and gotten us all in trouble. /And/ we would have seen. Much better." Jaques leans forward to pick up his mug, wrapping his hands around it and taking a sip. "Wouldn't have been anything worth fighting over, on the island," is his take. A beat later, "Though, wouldn't have stopped those two, like as not." Devaki, very pointedly, avoids that questioning look from Tomaeran. Instead, he rolls eyes skywards at Tom's defense of Rhaelyn. "You know what she's like. She's as bad as... well, /you/, for riling people up." His words are accompanied by a stretch of his leg, attempting to shove his boot Tomaeran-wards. "Anyway, I asked Emme to talk to the Weyrleader. No reason we should all suffer even /more/ restrictions for this." He snickers at Jaques. "At least here they could tear each others clothes off while fighting-- right?" He tips his head back, contemplating that visual for a beat. Yeah. "It's not /my/ fault other people are wrong," says Tom, not /quite/ offended, but also a little bit prickly about it. "Rhaelyn didn't /do/ anything. Riorde started it." He turns back to his drink rather than say anything more, his shoulders stiffening; so much for some nice, casual drinks. "Pigs," says Jaques, but with a bemused smirk that says he's maybe imagining a little more than a married man ought to. He shakes his head, though, to give Tom a brow-arched look. He extends it to Devaki, too, meaning something like: we're related to this guy? "It doesn't seem like any of them are innocent, except Io. --Which seems to be the case often enough, anyway." "Really? And who told you that? Rhaelyn?" Devaki snorts a little, not really needing to say more -- his dubious expression says it all. "You looking to get married again, cousin? Rhae's been trailing after you ever since you and Ani split." Jaques' look earns a low chuckle, that fades pretty quickly as Iolene's brought up again. He looks... guilty. Sick, even. He's quick to tip his head down, gulping down the contents of his mug. Tomaeran is /completely/ innocent. That's why he says, "Oh, no, Rhaelyn and I have no intention of marrying each other. We'd probably kill each other before the seven was out." On the other hand... "Are you aiming for Iolene, then, Dev? The way you're looking... love sick, is it?" Jaques, observent guy that he is, lapses into the silence that often marks him. He's watching Devaki now, with his lips pursing slightly at his older cousin's tells. Tom calls him out on it but Jaques will just sit, and watch, and wait, expressionless. "No!" Devaki's denial is extremely defensive, and there's a flushed anger that's pretty unusual for him as he pushes to his feet. "Io and I will never... marry." He seems pretty firm about this. He's quick to shift the topic away from himself, and Iolene. "As for you and Rhae? Well, at least there'll be something for you to talk about. Ani always looked pretty bored, when she was with you." Tomaeran shoves his mug at the boulder, letting the liquid inside slosh angrily over the sides. "Sounds like you've got it bad, though, marriage or no. Maybe you could just have a fling! That's what they do around here." He hasn't gotten out of his seat, yet, but he's on high alert: if he needs to, he'll be up in a flash. "Seani looked bored because she was /boring/. At least Rhaelyn would probably be decent in bed." Forget Seani; she's happy now. Forget Tom and Rhaelyn; they never will be. Jaques is still watching Devaki. "Then what," he asks, voice low. "Will you do." It's difficult to tell what upsets Devaki more; Tomaeran suggesting he have a fling with Iolene, or his dismissal of Seani. He's dropped his mug, too, and his fists are clenched, and he takes a step towards Tomaeran before rocking to a halt. "I think Ani looked bored because you couldn't keep her satisfied. All talk and no action. But... maybe Rhae will be able to be sustained just by your pretty looks?" Jaques' sudden question distracts him; he casts a look towards his younger cousin, expression blankly questioning. "Ani wasn't important. Ani will never /be/ important. She doesn't have the Blood, and she was /never/ going to have my child." Tom spits the words out, one after another after another. Clearly, he's ignoring the baby that was born dead. Perhaps it simply doesn't count in his head. He shoots a glance at Jaques, a deep smirk settling into his expression. "Yes, Devaki. What /will/ you do? Fuck her, then throw her away? Wouldn't that make you as bad as you think /I/ am?" Any other day, Jaques' unhappy looks would be aimed at Tom for his harsh words about his ex-wife. Today, though, it's Devaki who's getting them, the less the subject goes answered. "Tom," he begins, although whether that's encouragement to continue or a request to lay off is debatable. Devaki's gaze narrows, and swings back towards Tomaeran. "See, that's exactly why you'll never get anywhere. Dismissing people like they were unimportant. They don't have Blood but they're still family. They sacrificed with us. Thank the fishes Jaques has a stronger Blood claim than either of us, because you wouldn't last a second out there in the real world, with real people." He's normally the most level headed of all of them, most able to keep his emotions in check. But Tomaeran's latter words tip him over the edge and he makes a lunge for Tomaeran, aiming to tackle him to the ground, a balled fist in readiness. Between the two of them, there's no question he hasn't the strength Tomaeran does, but he may just be a smidge quicker. Tomaeran clearly takes Jaques' use of his name as encouragement, the way he opens his mouth with narrowed eyes and a mean look on his face. He doesn't get the chance to actually say anything, though: when Devaki lunges at him, he's caught just slightly unawares, and ends up flung to the snow-covered ground. That doesn't mean he's out for the count, though, because after that first moment of surprise, his own fists are in action and he's saying, "What, because you're not using Iolene? I can see it in your face! She's probably the /nicest/ one of us, and there you are, /using/ her, you legless crab. Or are you going to tell me you were looking like that for no reason at all?" His words no doubt get mangled - punches will do that - but the gist is definitely there. As soon as Devaki launches himself at Tom, Jaques just groans, rubbing his eyes. For a moment, he looks like he's just going to let them go at it, too, except--that's probably bad. The exiles are getting a bad enough reputation. Cason wouldn't like this. So, Jaques makes a grab for Dev, as the closer to his size, to pull him back off of Tom. "Can we not--?" he snaps off, uncharacteristically sharply. It's hard to tell whether Devaki -- whose punches are aiming for Tomaeran's kidney -- is doing so to avoid damaging Tomaeran's pretty face, or because he knows the kidney will hurt /way/ worse. His gaze is narrowed and, with a grunt, he's giving as good as he gets from Tom. "Don't you dare talk about Io like that! You know /nothing/." As Jaques grabs a hold of him, he tries -- without success -- to shake Jaques off with a low growl of frustration. Ow. OW. /OW/. Kidney-punches are a good way to make sure Tomaeran has to really work to get words out: the pain is that great. At least Jaques' intervention gives something of a diversion, no matter how small, enough, anyway, that Tom can manage: "Oh, yeah? Maybe you should remember that before making judgments about Seani and I. or Rhaelyn and I. Or /anyone/. You're such a damn know-it-all." /His/ punches, when he can manage them, /are/ aimed for the face: smack, smack, smack. Dragging Devaki back doesn't do much for stopping Tom, so Jaques tries to wade in a little further now, kind of half-tossing Dev back so he can focus on giving Tom a push out of the way, too. Hopefully he won't get hit in the meantime, while he's exclaiming, "Fuck, you're as bad as the girls!" Devaki lashes out with his feet since Jaques hold on him won't allow him to continue with his punches. Several of Tom's hits land, in between the squirming attempt to free himself, and, perhaps mercifully, Jaques attempt to toss him away works. Landing in the snow, he grunts and spits out a bit of blood, a hand touching his face, narrowed gaze fixed on Tomaeran. Pushed - successfully, since he's a little bit distracted - Tom ends up in the snow, too, all coiled and ready to pounce again just as soon as Jaques is out of the way. "You /bastard/," he says, between pained wheezes. "You /fucking/ bastard. Jaques, stay out of it. This is between our cousin and me." But he doesn't move to jump in again - not yet, anyway. He's got to be in quite a bit of pain, between the punches and the kicks. Jaques says, "I'm going to stand." Because it seems like the time to throw that into the mix. He looks between his two snowbound cousins, eyeing them both when the threats continue. There's a long pause where Devaki's testing a loose tooth with his tongue, not bothering to rise from the snow yet. Jaques' contribution earns a startled look and, glancing downwards, he offers his own confession, "I slept with Io at Turnover." He sounds weary and bitter, probably because of his next confession, "But she might be my half sister." Tomaeran is silent, confession-free. But what could he have to add at this point? He turns his gaze from one to the other, his expression less angry, but otherwise unreadable. "That's /disgusting," he says, finally. "Does she know? Because if she doesn't, I am going to hammer your head into that stone wall until it splits." Jaques's attention narrows sharply enough that he may very well not even /hear/ Tom behind him. He's rounding on Dev himself, after all; his posture stiff and hands struggling not to clench at his side. "Get up," he tells Devaki, quiet. "/No/. Fuck, you think I would have, if I'd known?" Devaki's angry and unsettled by measures, pausing long enough to spit out some more blood and gingerly shift his jaw. "I only just found out but I can't-- how the fuck do I tell /her/. /That/? When I don't even know if it's for certain?" Jaques' command draws his gaze and, silently and with a wince, he stands, hands by his sides, apparently ready to take whatever fury his cousins might want to bring to bear on him. Tomaeran's answer is quiet, but heartfelt. "/Bastard/." But for once, he'll let Jaques take the lead, silent and wary as he watches. Once he's got Devaki up, Jaques seems to hesitate; he looks for just a moment like he's going to turn away and let it go. Except... it's Io. So in the end, he steps up and aims a hard hook right at Dev's jaw. Devaki keeps his hands by his side, and his gaze on Jaques, miserable and exhausted. He doesn't even bother lifting his hands to defend himself, so that blow lands squarely on his jaw. He stumbles a few steps back, groaning, half bent over. He spits another mouthful of blood out, staining the snow, before he straightens, his gaze this time on Tomaeran as if inviting a free punch for his other cousin, too. A free punch? Tom will take that up, yes. He goes for the groin, aiming a short, sharp punch without any of that lingering business; as he pulls away, he seems smug, though all he says is a cool, quiet, "Don't you /ever/ do anything like that again. Stay away from our kind. Stay away from Iolene. And /tell/ her." Or he'll punch him again. That's all for Jaques; even as Tom gets in his punch, the youngest cousin is already turning away, heading back toward the Weyr proper. If Tom was expecting an answer to his demands it's probably a while coming. Devaki drops to the ground, curled into a ball, groaning faintly. He very likely doesn't even hear his cousin. For once, perhaps, Tom knows when enough is enough. He /does/ reach for the ale before he goes, though, drinking straight from the bottle as he heads back into the caverns. He... doesn't seem terribly satisfied, though. |
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