Logs:As Time Goes On...
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| RL Date: 16 May, 2016 |
| Who: Alida, Ilicaeth, Jandra |
| Involves: High Reaches Area |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Alida meets with a 'friend' from a long time ago. |
| Where: High Reaches Weyr; Pars Hold; Igen inner desert |
| When: Day 5, Month 11, Turn 40 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Light snow sprinkles. |
| Mentions: Devaki/Mentions, Raum/Mentions |
| The message came to Alida while she was tending a bronze's sore jaw...the beast having accidentally driven a small chunk of herdbeast bone into sensitive gum line while he was eating in a hurry. The chubby brown firelizard chirpled in recognition and relief that he'd found his objective, but he wasn't brazen enough to fly anywhere near a grumpy bronze dragon until his wound was treated, the pain numbed, and his rider reassured and given proper medical instructions. It was as the blonde woman strode off to clean up the spittle, ichor, and smelly dragon breath from her upper body that mister pudgy little brown swooped down and landed on the table beside the laving bowl, his dark-smudged wings fanning a little to gain Alida's further, fixed attention. "What; you hurt?" her alto near- automatically inquired, though clear green eyes looked doubtful from within a small face full of soapsand. Getting into dragon mouths was stinky work. A buzzing trill from the brown soon found him extending, arching his long neck towards Alida, where she finally saw the small tube attached by thick strings. Both 'lizard and the message tube were filthy with slush and mud, and the tiny beast showed no remorse over it. *Snort*. "Give it up, then, since it's apparently mine..." the bluie smirked at the messenger, who offered his neck trustingly...and got not only an opening of the tube and removal of the rolled up hide within for his troubles...but a quick splash of soapy water upon his haunches. Gotcha! Instead of being irked or frightened, the wee brown instead fanned his dirty wings into the darkening water of the basin, proceeding to splash more gunk over both of them before he chittered, and popped off Between with blue eyes. "Little shitbag..." Alida muttered with mixed irritation and amusement, setting aside the message until she could clean up a bit more...and read the note without smudging the ink out. What the woman read was more than enough reason to waken a lightly-dozing Ilicaeth from near the hatching grounds entrance, and wind his stony thoughts cautiously about his rider's wary mind. After some non-verbal time for gut communication, the burly blue finally noted in his usual fashion, « Been a long time. Even an old, busted olive branch's still an olive branch. » And the two girls - now women - had been pretty damned thick. The 'old' Alida would've allowed the anger, hurt, embarrassment, and terrible pride still swirling within keep her from taking up what that message offered... But it was no secret to either of them. - now in their early thirties - that they were running out of time. And perhaps both were finally isolated enough, wistful enough, to make a gesture across the near-decade they'd said nothing. A day later, about 3 miles outside the hold of her upbringing, Alida directed Ilicaeth to land nearby a rocky outcropping, when both knew that Jandra and her rolly-polly brown flit were waiting, hidden from the chilling weather. Acting as watch and buffer against the icy breeze, Ilicaeth turned his blue regard away from the two women after offering a faint rumble of greeting to the Parsian guard...the one with the dark brown hair and brown eyes. A tiny churr from the 'lizard presaged a small and formal bow from Jandra to the dragon, her gaze finally moving to a riding gear-clad Alida. The silence of Turns was almost deafening, and might've defeated the purpose of the meeting if the brown flit hadn't have gurgled in something that sounded like humor at the blonde woman. "Seems he approves uv' you..." Jandra's burred voice noted casually, her shrug sending the brown off her shoulder to perch out by Ilicaeth. "Seems like he'd approve uv' near-anybody..." Alida clipped off in her old fashion, and immediately regretted it when Jandra's olive-skinned features tightened. "Meant he's a kind one." One boot heel dug some at cold-packed earth at the next, forced admission: "Little like 'is mistress." Shrug, A choice had been made by both women, and - despite the time, the pain, the loss and anger between them - somehow, they both wanted it to work out, for once. Both women bore many scars - most of them on the inside - and to lay even a few sinews bare cost them much...but at least the bleaker of the two had a second presence not far away inside her head that gingerly coaxed her on. A tiny fire was made within the sparse cover of the outcropping's lip, it's light concealed by Ilicaeth's broad form as the darkness slowly rose to cover them all. And, as time passed, voices were found...and were raised in not only old hurt and new pains, but also laden with odd joys found in present times...and laughter in decades that had slipped away. Rebel and near-outcast had become not only a dragonrider, but was also a dragonhealer..and a some-time Harper wannabe. And the inflexible, severe, by-the-book private had finally learned something of mercy, of a bit of flexibility...and had climbed the ladder of Pars' guard...now working towards becoming its first female sergeant. "You...it really *did* help, having Lord Devaki and his Captain weed out most of those turds." It was Jandra's way of telling her former comrade 'thank you...' though Devaki had insisted Alida's anger over the Pars Guard had had little to do with his scouring of the organization. "*Good*..." the blonde woman noted with cool heat - the first in voice, then second in her green eyes - eyes that still burned with not only the injustices of Turns ago...but of the private horrors she'd suffered. Still sometimes relived. "*I* wear them, too, White Wher..." Jandra muttered darkly, keenly to something she thought she might've seen in her companion's eyes...and slowly undid her heavy outer jacket, tugged out her sweater and heavy shirt to bare her back and remind the blonde of just how they'd acquired the very first of their lashing scars. For a moment, the bluerider's jaw set, and all the old rage she'd thought mostly controlled or dispelled ignited within, leaving her sincerely wishing that she could crush the windpipes of her own foster father and Jandra's father after the men had heard of the pre-teen girls' aborted tryst in a closet. Outside Ilicaeth creeled softly, his eyes an orange-flecked yellow that looked right into the soul of his rider, and silently suggested a potentially different response to their pain. Trembling fingers touched by the cold ghosted lightly over the scars, Alida awaiting any reaction, from violent rejection to instant violence...and instead found Jandra slowly slumping over a little, shuddering. "I never liked other women. Just you, Alida." The guard sounded like she was keeping herself from crying by only a millimeter, her voice throaty, uneven. "Never got the chance..." Siiiigh, shiver. "Got a boyfriend, now... after ten Turns of not trusting any uv 'em." Snert. "I...I understand. I won't..." As she withdrew her fingers, Alida found Jandra turning around, and tugging the 'rider closer to her, and not only for warmth. "I...I think it's only fair...right that we get to do this once ..like we were supposed to," the Guard murmured. As if daring Alida to say 'no' after Jandra had stuck out her neck. Brown eyes shone with want, mistrust, hope, and a myriad of other things that Alida recognized instantly...in herself as well. There was only a slow, but firm nod from the bluerider in answer, but Ilicaeth made the first move...ambling in closer so that he could extend a wing, curl himself as much about the two women as possible to offer his greater body warmth to their bared skins. And if things became too cold to continue in the wintry North, the blue dragon was more than happy to take his passengers to Igen, where the heat of a certain cave - and the stored blankets within - offered almost as much solace as the slowly re-kindling friendship many though dead Turns ago. |
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