Logs:An Excercise in Trustworthiness
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| RL Date: 12 April, 2013 |
| Who: K'zin, Azaylia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'zin and Rasavyth 'bump into' Azaylia and decide to visit. No foot breath, this time! |
| Where: Weyrleader Complex, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 6, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Alida/Mentions, Barnabas/Mentions, Madilla/Mentions, N'ky/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions |
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| Weyrleader Complex, High Reaches Weyr Only about a man's height from the ground, this low ledge is wide and flat, reached by a set of timeworn steps that hug the cliff face. As the ledge stretches back away from the head of the stairs, it simultaneously broadens out over the bowl and tunnels into the mountain to become a sort of antechamber, from which a passageway winds back to the Weyrwoman's weyr, the council room, the records room and the hatching sands. A small round table is set in a shallow alcove here, surrounded by four chairs that provide a waiting area for those seeking one of the weyrleaders. Another short flight of stairs leads upward from the tapering end of the ledge to the Weyrleader's quarters, while others lead to the further recessed junior queens' weyrs. While it's hard to get a good look at the lake from here, the view does encompass the majority of the bowl and the comings and goings across its span. The bowl is sufficiently public that specific supervision is not necessary. And the weyrleader's complex... that's pretty close to the bowl, right? Besides, what trouble could be gotten into with 'leaders about? K'zin is loitering on the ledge, occasionally running the steps up and down, to at least look like he's doing something weyrling-official. Rasavyth is settled off to one side at the base of the stairs, crouched but not curled. Both pair are decidedly waiting, and have been for at least as long as it took the sun to sink down behind the sheer walls of the bowl, for something; for anyone who knows what's been going on with him lately, it might be easy to guess he's been waiting to have a "chance encounter" with a certain goldrider. It may not be a coincidence, between the amount of time it takes Hraedhyth to land on her ledge and a certain goldrider's appearance. Szadath looks as though he intends to follow, seeing the queen to her home before suddenly shifting direction, called away by his own rider's needs. Azaylia walks from her weyr empty handed for once, bare feet taking curious steps forward as her gaze is openly searching-- and yet she still gives a surprised little start at the sight of weyrling and bronze. "K'zin." Remnants of her surprise are at least pleasant, small smile offered but not completely shaking free of that curiosity. Or is it confusion? "Rasavyth. How are you?" For both, "I'm sorry I didn't have a lot of time to visit while you were in the infirmary." Not that Hraedhyth couldn't be seen hovering nearby. No doubt the weyrwoman was kept in the know. Rasavyth gets in his greeting croon before K'zin's, "Zay," the bronze matching the man's pitch (perhaps unintentionally), but it ends up making the sound blend into her name as it's spoken. Brown eyes skate down to bronze (which isn't far given that his head and shoulders poke over the top of the wall, even with his crouch. His smile is hesitant, but warm. "I'm ok, we're ok. Nose is a little tender still, but the bruising's gone, see?" He turns his head this way and that, stopping mid-step to meet her, falling right back into his step until he's a polite distance for conversation. "I'm going to ask you how you are," He starts, "But I first have to tell you that I'm sorry. We're sorry. For-- everything, about the last time we came to see you." He doesn't explain more; surely she will know what he means? "Ras wasn't sure if Hraedhyth would remember, but he wanted me to make sure you knew that the apology is to both of you from both of us. We-- we don't much care for the taste of feet, and that day we left tasting sevenday old boot-rot." Such a pleasant image. "We're going to make certain not to do it again," He adds after the briefest pause. "Forgive us?" Azaylia's smile brightens at their harmony, little thought spared for whether it's intentional or not. For the peek at Rasavyth's shoulders, "I forget how fast they grow." Gentle whisper battles between awe and nostalgia, left undecided as her gaze shifts back to the weyrling. Lips part to answer, fronzen and keeping silent at K'zin's conjunction. "Oh." A few more steps are taken until her hand rests on the back of a chair, one of few near the table set in weyrleader's alcove. "I... she doesn't quite remember, no." The words come easily, buffered by relief, "She just knew to give him his space. I made sure of that. And thank you, K'zin." His name, even as her nod aims towards the bronze dragon, "It really seemed like a big misunderstanding, but... I forgive you." If only to put the younger pair at ease. "It really was." K'zin confirms with a nod of his own, stepping swiftly behind the chair her hand rested on, "We still felt-- well, we felt bad about it all. It should've been a much more pleasant visit." His expression becomes distracted for a moment. "But the good news is that it's over and done, and all the rest can be much more pleasant from now on." His smile is hopeful, "Mind if I join you for a bit?" He pulls the chair back a few inches for her, all manners. "I'd like to hear about how you and Hraedhyth are doing." Azaylia's hand leaves the chair to rest on K'zin's upper arm, comforting grip giving a squeeze of silent encouragement before it falls away. "Good. I do enjoy talking, when I can find the time." Not that she sounds hassled by this visit, all too eager in accepting the chair with a brush over sunny-warm skirt and a murmur of gratitude. "We're..." Her brows jump high, perhaps too canon in what one wants to see in a leader as she takes mental inventory. "Doing as well as we were before. Busy, though that's nothing new. I'm looking forward to a day where we can find a few hours for ourselves. Like when we took Bones to Ista a little bit ago." With a lean forward, she catches herself on her elbows, fingers interlocking and hovering beneath her chin. Closer now, "Your nose does look much better. It's not going to get one of those..." She censors herself for youth's sake, "...little crooked bumps, is it?" Not that she reveals a preference either way. Once Azaylia's seated and he's done the gallant thing by helping her scooch her chair in a touch, he takes the seat that is half-way between being beside and being opposite. It's on an angle enough that he can see her face plainly without being overly far away. The drop into the seat is casual, but he, too, leans in a little bit for a slightly more intimate air to the conversation once she's done so as well. His eyes watch her face as she speaks of herself and her lifemate, a brow rising when she speaks of the trip to Ista, and then the question of his nose. "Bones said you wouldn't like it if my face got all messed up," K'zin responds, lips pressed together in restrained amusement. "If that's the case, then you're lucky that Madilla's so skilled when it comes to my broken nose. Twice now she's healed it up good as new. Hopefully, neither she nor any other healer will ever have to do it again." He doesn't seem particularly inclined to linger on the subject of his injury, though only because he seems far more interested in asking, "What did you do in Ista? Some of the weyrlings said we ought take a trip there once we're allowed. I've never been. It's got beaches, right? It's an island?" Someone has been studying after all! "And it's near Keroon, where you're from?" Studying and paying attention. Color the weyrwoman shocked. "Bones said that?" As if the man's name conjures laughter by mere mention, though Azaylia tries her best to stifle it. "I don't like that people get hurt, but... well, it depends on the face." A hint that the gardener doesn't always get it right. "Madilla is wonderful. I should have known it was her work." With Ista's sun and High Reaches' own summer, her complexion carries the steady warmth in a seemingly seamless dark tan. Her answer comes simply, cheerfully, "Swim. Eat lunch. Bones hadn't seen the ocean in over a decade, he says. He was a merchant, before." The mines or the greenhouse, she doesn't specify. As her smile grows, her chin lowers, finally nestled in the bridge of her fingers, "You've been studying. It's got beaches with black sand. Hraedhyth loves it. Keroon isn't as exotic, but it's still home." He may hear the lowercase, voice fond but not overly attached "And you? What have you and Rasavyth been up to?" Genuine interest isn't plagued by things like dread or suspicion, not this time. "Yeah, although, I can only sometimes tell when he's putting me on and when he's serious. So maybe he wasn't. So you like a man to look like he's seen a few fists?" K'zin queries, one elbow sliding onto the table so he can lean his chin on his fist, expression serious with an undercurrent of playfulness. "I've only seen a little girl's and the back of Tela's head, but those should count for something, shouldn't they?" A simple, if emphatic, nod, chin never leaving his hand shows his agreement with the goldrider's praise of the Healer. "She's something else." The words could mean insult, but the tone is one of such admiration that it couldn't possibly be intended as such. "I have." Been studying. "So hard. I'd probably remember about Ista better if I'd ever seen that black sand." Something in his tone suggests that he has trouble imagining such a thing. "That's pretty much all I've been up to. And exercising. Lots of exercising. All my privileges got taken away until I can prove I'm trustworthy," Whenever that might be. He sounds cheerful enough about the whole thing in any case, "So there's just lots and lots and lots of time for books and classes and running and training. And trying to teach Ras to hunt. He's pitiful." The bronze rumbles what might be a half-hearted protest, but they both know it's the truth. Azaylia's jaw slides off her fingers, an attempt to hide the telling twist to her lips behind twined digits. A hint of what could be shame, though she looks and sounds far too amused, "I flew in Glacier." Playful answer is followed by something more straightforward, "I do. But, I also like handsome men. Tall. Short. Strong." High Reachian boys come in a variety of flavors. Light voice is even more airy, playfully skirting on what's appropriate though there's little doubt that the line has been firmly drawn. Excitement draws her up, arms falling to an easy cross atop the table's surface, all sorts of eager, "We should go running sometime. I still do, in the morning." Surely they've buzzed each other, even if the goldrider does her best not to meddle with the weyrlings as a class. Love of the physical is tempered, casual if only because K'zin is, "I am sorry you lost your privileges, by the way. It's a good lesson to learn, and I have no doubt that you'll be able to prove yourself." After Rasavyth's rumble, she aims a knowing look at the table between them, "Hraedhyth said something like that. She wasn't sure if her advice would be welcome." And, the gold likely didn't use the word pitiful. "All kinds, then." K'zin's face is amused, lips curling at the corners. "Shells, woman. You don't make it easy for a man to face his competition: it's everyone. Or all men." Then he hesitates, quirking a brow to ask the question without speaking the words: was he right the first time? "Running together'd be great. If you're of a mind, Alida and I are often doing extra training during our free time. I'm sure you'd be welcome to join us." Exercising is always more fun in a group, though with K'zin and Alida as group mates, it's assured that the business of fitness will be no less serious, even if it turns out to be fun. "I'm not sorry," is the bronzer's firm response. "No need for you to be. I did the crime, I pay the time. Isn't that how the world works?" He sounds almost entirely too grown up about it. There's got to be a catch or a trap somewhere. "You could bet on that and double your marks. Weyrlingmaster's aren't going to know what hit them," He smiles. "So to speak." He glances toward Rasavyth then, "I don't think he'd mind. He watches the good hunters. Like Solith and Cailluneth. He learns a lot from them. He just struggles putting things into action. The advice might be best saved for one of his hunting trips, though. We have about two a day, since he can never catch his fill before he gets too frustrated to keep trying." "It is not everyone." Azaylia objects with another laugh, fingers reaching up to curl at her cheeks, forming a mortified cage for her to peek over. It lasts all of a second, "I try not to judge people by their appearances. Or, at all, really." His quirked brow is answered by lowering her own, severity of the look in itself a tease. "Taikrin and Szadath caught." It's an odd expression to see on her, that exaggerated stare. It's easily shed to reveal her true warmth, "I'd love to join you." Considerate of what she remember's ofthe blue weyrling's nature, "Only if it's alright with Alida." K'zin's maturity has the weyrwoman's head giving a thoughtful tip. No sense in hiding it: she's impressed. In a moment of jaded candor, "Not always," How the world works. "But it's how it should. I try to do what I can to see that it does." Speaking of her own actions, rather than his. Another glance for the nearby bronze, gaze lingering thoughtfully, "We'll keep that in mind. Hraedhyth is happy to help, but she doesn't want to keep them from learning on their own." "How does one learn if one is not taught?" K'zin queries, addressing the last point first, though it quickly melds with earlier mentions. "Sometimes, those with experience," of say everyone or not quite everyone as the case may be, "-would have an awful lot to teach those of us still learning. But if they don't offer to teach, how are we ever to know they're willing?" He's talking about dragons, right? "And I wasn't contending that Taikrin and Szadath caught," There's a beat there that offers the perfect comedic timing as he leans in a touch closer and gives her a truly wicked smile, "Just asking if you liked it." Leaning back, he's grinning impishly at the goldrider. "But consider the question withdrawn and none of my business. Though it was suggested to me that some dreams are better when finally realized when there's been unfulfilled temptation scattered along the way. I'm giving it a whirl. What do you think?" He wiggles his brow, words showing him fully cognizant of the location of the line, and that he's not, from here on, going near it. But what fun is a line if it isn't tested? Morality as a topic falls by the wayside as he experiments with temptation. Temptation is offered in heaping spoonfuls, piling up in front of the weyrwoman who can only tip her head further, shoulder keeping her cheek propped. Heavy tilt is comedic, but so is the intentional disbelief on her face. Tested though it is, the line remains. Even as Azaylia's voice is weighed down by that experience in a low murmur, "You." Managing to keep the laughter out of her accusation as she recovers, "Are awfully cocky for someone who isn't allowed to do anything." Anything. Casual doesn't keep, edging closer to test strict boundaries with even more to that forward lean, "They're very smart, whoever said that. I agree. It's more fun to want." From the way she tells it, it's the most fun. Certainly that's up for debate. Not so cruel, she withdraws her own temptation before it becomes too great, "Hraedhyth and I are always willing to guide eager young minds." Too formal and therefore too telling. They're talking about dragons and minds, nothing else. Words lose that hint of a husk for a brighter, "You're fun." Because he is. K'zin holds up a single finger, but waits until she's finished to make the point it was meant to raise. "I am not only cocky for someone who can't do anything, but also for someone who has never done anything." His grin is wide now. "I thought it might be more fun than meek. Though I can go back to that, if you like." He certainly will, more than once; it's not like you can simply choose confidence and then always be henceforth thusly. He pushes himself up out of his seat then, rounding around behind Azaylia's chair. His hands - big, strong Smith's hands - drop down onto her shoulders, and he spends a few moments manipulating them in gentle massage; surely the goldrider has some tension she needs worked out? He waits a breath to see how the kneading fingers are received (stopping if it seems objectionable), before he bends to lean low and murmur beside her ear. "We'd like to learn more about doing paperwork. If you're of a mind to teach." Beat. "Of course, if later you're of a mind to teach other things, you'll have to be sure to let me know so I don't make other plans." He's not talking about dragons. Previous assumptions are confirmed by that finger, and once again Azaylia is thoughtfully absent of a clear preference. Same for meek or cocky, instead offering a non helpful, "I'll take you as you are." Unfortunate timing, words spoken just before he rises, "Did I sa--" Her voice is stolen as her entire body coils, tension increasing for whose hands rather than the contact itself. Slowly, with the help of his thumbs, the goldrider begins to relax and accepts her fate. Oh no. Braided buns are out of the way, shoulders left bare by sundress' straps that tend to fall to the sides. "Mn." A quiet grunt as a muscle flinches uncomfortably beneath his fingers, not enough for her to stop him. With the light monotone of one who's getting rubbed, "Paperwork?" Not a no, and neither is the following, "I'm afraid to answer that." Plain words manage to convey some humor, "If I were interested, would you worry about it?" A tease, though born of more genuine concerns. As the muscle twitches, K'zin backs off of it. Not trained, but at least responsive! He continues the massage lightly. He straightens after he's got some sort of response from her. "Paperwork." He confirms. "The kind you do. The kind Aishani does. The kind Taikin does. The kinds of things that make the Weyr go 'round. I know that's nothing I need to worry about, but we think we ought to have a good 'round base of knowledge so we can understand how the Weyr actually functions in a top-down sort of way." Clearly, this desire to learn about the monotony of paper-pushing is well-thought out on his part. "As far as I can tell, all the things I've had to worry about with you are worked out: no kissing until after I'm allowed, which, for the record, I would be now if I hadn't lost my privileges, neither of us is waiting for the other one, and we're friends. What else is there to worry about?" He ducks his head down again to murmur, "I'm going to do it with someone eventually. And I'm probably going to be terrible the first few times. But I'm hoping to be a fast learner with that too." Even when forced by friction and strong smith's hands to relax, Azaylia's muscles are deceptively hard, defined beneath a layer of soft bronze. Another murmur that sounds like an echo of 'paperwork', sounds left unprocessed as he continues to knead her. When her mind finally does catch up, "I... that's strange. Even the Weyrleader doesn't really... well not the lower caverns..." The stalling becomes too great, and it's with as much reluctance that she straightens up, "I know massages aren't in the rules, but... Better safe than sorry." There's a slow inhale, using the moment to gather the inner strength needed to interrupt him. She needs to be able to think, though a hand does reach back to catch his fingers in a grateful squeeze, "I suppose, if you wanted to maybe watch me work some days? It's a lot of numbers, organization and planning." Leaning back, she tilts her head to give him a wary look, as insincere as it is, "That you'll get distracted from the important things. My answer hasn't changed since you asked me on a... date." Still cute. "If you're still interested when the time comes, of course." Another squeeze to his fingers, "As long as we keep our misunderstandings small." Inevitable and accepted. "Zay," K'zin's hands stop their kneading, but linger on her shoulders. His tone is calm, but laced with amusement. "I know I'm a virgin, but I'm not as easy as a shoulder rub. If you want me, you'll have to woo me." Now it's all joking, playfulness apparent as his hands give her shoulders a little squeeze. He moves around to stand where she can see him better. "I don't really have free days with the weyrlings, but maybe once a seven you could fit me in during our free time in the evening and just give me some overviews? I don't necessarily need anything in depth, and probably whatever you're working on is well good enough, but I'd be interested to see it all. Plus, it would give me a great excuse to tempt you once a seven. Keep you on your toes and test my resolve and all that. To prove I can be trusted." And get his stinking privileges back so he can prove he can't be trusted! "We've been doing pretty well so far today, I think. As misunderstandings go." His smile for this is cheerful. "Just gotta keep it up." That has her laughing, head still bent back as amusement meets unflattering mental images and-- she'll need a moment. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like you're easy." K'zin's poor reputation! Azaylia shifts in her seat so that she's proper, not propped up when he moves from behind her. "That sounds reasonable." If only because productivity won't suffer terribly, not if she's working through the explanations. "You might've learned this sort of stuff in the leadership program, if..." Just if. His threat has little effect on her sweet smile, "We have. In fact, you've earned a lot of mine back just today." Not at all dire, the admission is meant to encourage him. The weyrwoman stands, "Speaking of paperwork..." Disappointment isn't allowed to linger for long, or sour her good mood. "That's not an option." K'zin's response to the idea of the leadership program is swift, and a touch chilled, but his smile warms things up quickly enough. "So I'm getting creative. I promise to make it worth your while. And that I shan't distract you... too much." He grins. "I'd best get back to the barracks before they think I'm up to mischief anyway." He leans down then, as if he's going to whisper something else into her ear, and at the last possible moment, turns his head to place a quick, chaste peck on her cheek, backing off just as swiftly. "Now, that wasn't breaking the rules," He preemptively insists. "That was a thank you. For you being you. And for forgiving me my foot-breath when I have it." He's taken a pair of steps back from her, possibly to ensure that he's not planning on stepping on the line. "And I won't do it again until I'm officially free of all rules regarding physical contact." Then formally, he salutes, "Permission to be dismissed, Weyrwoman Azaylia?" See? Isn't he a good little weyrling? It'd be perfect except for the fact that he's grinning. A firm nod in agreement, "No." Only brushing over the missed oppertunity, Azaylia does her best not to dwell. "There may be times when I'm too busy to make every seven, but..." The last bit is an easy reassurance that she'll certainly make the effort. The goldrider has been lulled by his good behavior, suspecting nothing of that lean until he's done the deed. Quick little inhale is held at bay by K'zin's insistance, cheeks slightly full with the unspoken reprimand. Lips ease from their pinch, exhale one of acceptance, "You're welcome. And thank you." Far less interesting than a peck to the cheek, "For proving me right." In what way is unspoken, offered up for K'zin should he wish to wonder. "You're dismissed, Weyrling K'zin." Clipped, professional, until the fond coo, "And you too, Rasavyth." Knowing full well she's ruined it, the weyrwoman's smile turns impish before she's heading back towards her weyr. Rasavyth's chuff shows his amusement at the coo. K'zin's smile in return to the weyrwoman's is warm, and he too is stepping off a moment later to jog back down the stairs, dragon rising to move along beside him as they make for the barracks. |
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Alida (Alida (talk)) left a comment on Sat, 13 Apr 2013 04:12:29 GMT.
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Alida will sooner or later figure out that she needs to be more interactive with people she wishes to be closer with. She's just gotta figure out that real friendship works this way. I think Ilicaeth will help her with such. :)
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