Logs:Baby Making
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| RL Date: 9 April, 2010 |
| Who: B'tal, Madilla |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: You know the music that plays when you've been successful with 'try for a baby' in The Sims? Yeah. That. Hopefully. (pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease). |
| Where: Madilla's Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 8, Month 6, Turn 22 (Interval 10) |
| OOC Notes: Clearly, this is the MOST awkward scene I have ever played. Obviously, there's sexual content, but it's really not graphic. Thankfully. |
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| Madilla's Room, High Reaches Weyr There's something undeniably cozy about this little room off the resident quarters, making it comfortable despite its small size. To the left of the door is a small wooden table with two chairs, the wood covered with a piece of rich, creamy fabric matched in the patchwork cushions set tidily on each chair. A lopsided red vase sits in the middle of the table, usually filled with brightly coloured flowers. To the right of the door, in the far corner, is the narrow bed, made with fresh linens and covered with an oversized quilt designed out of patches of cream, blue and red. A wooden press sits at the end of it, and, just beyond that, several hooks in the wall provide hanging space. A battered, sagging couch sits in the other corner, its tattered fabric mostly covered with another quilt. A few baskets of glows light the little room, but, otherwise, the walls are bare. The poor dragonhealer brown gets messenger duty again: earlier this afternoon, he reached out for Jeibeth to give her a message that probably meant little to him: « The healer says 'today'. » It's now early evening, and Madilla's hurried steps about her little room are flustered and uncertain, inclined towards pacing. The usual quilting supplies have been tidied away, and the only thing sitting on the table, now, is a bottle of wine and two mugs. The healer stops there, finally, staring at it, then swings around to stare at the little bed, instead. She takes a deep breath; she swallows, thickly. As usual, Jeibeth makes it at least somewhat worth his while for delivering the message. And it gives her something else to focus on for a short time while B'tal gets increasingly anxious about 'today.' Being anxious doesn't keep the greenrider from showing up in the end, however, and there's a little knock on her door eventually to announce his arrival. There will be a nervous smile when the door opens. Lucky brown! He seems quite pleased with this deal, really. Madilla meets B'tal's nervous smile with one of her own, cheeks flushed pink and eyes wide. "Hello," she says, after several long seconds of silence, as though she's not entirely sure what one says in this situation. It's still more belatedly that she adds, hurriedly, "Come in!" and steps back to let him through and in to the little room. The hand not on the doorknob twists the fabric of her skirt, winding it around her fingers. "Hey," B'tal returns but it's nearly on top of Madilla's hello given that span of silence that apparently needed to be filled. He goes a little pink himself, eyes shifting from her toward inside before he moves past with a noticeable inhale. He lets it out slowly as he looks around, then turns about to face her again. His fingers are busy fidgeting but not to the point that he probably really realizes it. "So." Beat. "Today?" "Today," Madilla agrees, seriously, though not without a frisson of excitement beneath the surface of it all. She shuts the door, lifting her head to meet his gaze squarely. Then, less certainly, "As long as you're still-- sure." One last chance to turn back. She has to press both of her hands against the door to stop from them fidgeting, too; she takes another long, deep breath. "I am," B'tal says, sounding sincere and maybe a little earnest. "I'm sure." He looks at her, his expression somewhat less certain than his words and then he asks, "Are you? Sure? It's okay if you're not, you know. We don't have to go through with this if you want to... wait." For someone special, perhaps? Something like that. "No!" Awkwardness and nervousness aside, there's nothing but determination and resolve in Madilla's tone as she says this, her head shaking madly along with it. "No. I'm sure. I'm absolutely sure. I want this." Enough that she draws herself away from the door, takes a deep breath, then takes a step forward. "Do you--" Beat. "Want some wine or something? G'brion gave it to me as a gift when I walked the tables and I've never really been much of a drinker but maybe--?" She's rambling. She shuts her mouth at the end of it, giving B'tal a nervous glance. It's a pity the resolve and determination don't propel her quite that far. The greenrider seems a little hesitant to answer about the wine, glancing toward the table and the mugs, then toward Madilla again, mouth poised to speak. Eventually he actually does with a quick flicker of his smile. "I think I'd like that, yeah." B'tal is, at the very lease, reassured by her resolve on the rest of this. But his nervous energy draws him toward the table with the likely intention of opening the wine and pouring it himself. "I don't really know how to make this easier," he admits like that wasn't already obvious. Madilla lets the greenrider take the lead on the wine, then, bobbing her head towards him as she manages a self-conscious smile. She moves to linger behind one of the chairs, watching his progress rather than his face. "I don't think there is any way to make it easier," she says, hands circling around the back of the chair. "We're just going to have to-- get over how awkward it all is, and just get on with it, I think. If we can. And hope that my calculations are right, and it all works, so there's no need to think about a second attempt." Please, please, please. B'tal is more focused on this wine thing than he really needs to be and he pours out both mugs even though Madilla never really said whether she actually wanted any. Since there are two mugs, he's probably just assuming. "Have you ever--" Beat, "Done anything?" he asks, finally glancing up at her as he sets the bottle down and picks up his mug to take a drink that's a little more generous than usual for wine. He realizes while he's drinking, then voices his thought as soon as he can without choking on anything, "You don't have to answer that." A quick shake of his head for emphasis and he turns slightly to glance sidelong at her bed. Reaching for the other mug - presumably she does intend to partake, then - gives Madilla something to do other than blush scarlet in response to B'tal's question. Despite his amendment, she shakes her head, answering, as she nurses her mug between both hands, "No, it makes more sense to be honest and open and... everything. No, I haven't. Not really. I... kissed someone a few times, but I don't think that counts." She's steeled her voice again, forcing the awkwardness out. "I know how it all works, though." The benefits of being a healer. Now, finally, she takes a gulp from her mug, making a face at the taste of it. Gaze cast toward the wall, eyes maybe a little wide for a handful of moments, B'tal listens and takes a slow breath again. Then another drink of that wine. But after he looks down into the mug, he sets it back down on the table, hand lingering before he lets go of it entirely like he's not sure he wants to. "Do you want to... kiss?" There's no way that B'tal can make that question not sound awkward so he doesn't really try. Blue eyes slip toward her skirt and he looks like he might say something else but then he closes his eyes for a few moments and finally lifts a hand to rub at his face as he gives a small, nervous laugh. Silence follows, and then Madilla gives a small, nervous laugh of her own. "Do you think it'll help?" she wants to know, then, turning her gaze towards him, meeting eyes again. She finishes the rest of her wine in a couple of hefty swallows, then her mug joins his on the table. For someone who doesn't often drink, perhaps that will be enough to make a difference! Or perhaps not. Without waiting for an answer to her question, she steps around the chair, coming to a halt just in front of the greenrider, as she reaches out to grasp at one of his hands. "I'm sorry, B'tal. I wish I knew..." B'tal nearly shies away from the grasp for his hand but he doesn't in the end. Instead he looks up at her with wide eyes, shaking his head very slightly. "Probably not. I mean, unless it'd help /you./ I'm fine. But." He's done this before. Well. Maybe not quite /this./ But close enough. His hand shifts and he makes a face that suggests he knows he probably sounds like an idiot. His other hand joins the first to hold onto Madilla's, squeezing reassuringly, then he's moving back to guide them toward the bed. "Clothes?" he asks. "I think I'll be all right," says Madilla, seriously; if anything, she looks relieved by this-- but perhaps it's the combination of the reminder that this is all business, and B'tal's lead-taking in guiding them bed-wards. Answering this gives her time to prepare herself for responding to the clothes question; in the end, she gives his hand another squeeze in return, then draws hers free, dropping to sit on the edge of the bed, where, business-like except for her studied examination of the floor, she begins to undress, shoes first. The greenrider watches her for a moment, then seems to realize that he is and his gaze shifts away awkwardly. His eyes close again, but then B'tal is pulling off his shirt and dropping it to the floor. There are, notably, no weird bruises anywhere to be seen. And that's probably not why he hesitates to lose more, glancing at Madilla again as he heels his loosely laced boots and pushes them toward his shirt. "Is there a best... way? To do this? For... this." Madilla's shoes are followed by her socks, folded tidily beside them. In fact, the whole process is methodical: bodice, blouse, skirt, underwear, all removed slowly and tidily, then folded carefully on the floor. She answers the question as she undressed, though her gaze never shifts back to the greenrider (she's certainly not looking for bruises-- but maybe that's just because of distractions?). "I'm supposed to put a pillow under my hips," she explains. "That's what I was taught to suggest to people, at any rate." Okay, that /was/ accompanied by a kind of nervous giggle, and finally, she glances up again, pink-cheeked but attempting a smile. "Otherwise, I think it's just... um, standard?" It's not like B'tal has never seen a naked woman before. In fact, he's even been known to /look/ at them. But this is Madilla and that makes it different. "Pillow under your hips," he repeats more quietly to himself, glancing toward the head of the bed reflexively for pillows even if he'll leave that for Madilla. He's trying not to look directly at the healer but it's hard for him to avoid completely when his hands finally move to unfasten his pants and push them down. "Less... light. Might be easier." His tone is almost apologetic as he steps out of his pants and underthings and pushes them toward the rest of his pile. On the plus side, at least it's not Madilla's first time seeing a naked man before, either: hurray for healers! Not that she's looking intentionally any more than he is: she keeps her gaze raised towards his face, except when she's turning her head to guide her arm towards the nearest of the glowlamps, covering it. There are others around the room, but she's staying right where she is: safe, on the bed. With a pillow, now, even, hugged close to her for the moment. Between this and the dim, she sounds more composed as she says, "Yes, that is better. I hadn't thought of that." He moves to cover another lamp, one closer, but leaves any others. Wouldn't really do for him to go stubbing a toe or something before-- although given his apparent preferences-- er. B'tal comes back to the bed and he crouches down in front of Madilla. This is really only to look up at her earnestly, touching a hand to her knee. "You're really sure?" he asks, one last time with a slightly more confident smile and everything. He's still a little flushed but that's not quite so noticeable now in the dimmer light. While B'tal is covering the lamp Madilla lets go of her security blanket of a pillow, and positions it so that, when she lies back, it will be beneath her hips. That leaves her with just her arms to wrap about her upper body, though at this point, it seems less modesty and more reassurance. She manages to match his smile, when he returns, and inclines her head forward with determination: "I am," she promises, firmly. "Let's-- do this." Even if she has to swallow in the middle of saying that, and let out a little breath afterwards, anticipation mixed with nervousness. "What do you need me to do?" "Relax," B'tal suggests, squeezing her knee gently before he's standing up slowly. "Just lay back and relax. And don't be afraid to say anything if you need to." He doesn't really give any examples of what she might need to say but he probably assumes she can figure that out herself. It's pretty obvious that he's not all that aroused but there's no motion made on his part to, uh, deal with that just yet either. "Do you think, uh... I brought some lubrication?" It comes out as a question and he glances back toward his pile of clothes. Not aroused? In this sexiest of sexy situations? Tsk! Madilla gives a little bob of her head to confirm what B'tal's just said, managing another tentative smile. "I think I can manage that," she tells him, just the faintest note of amusement audible, though when she opens her mouth again, it's faded, and she sounds much more serious - and perhaps a little bit appreciative. "I think that might be... wise." Having reached this conclusion, she gently lowers herself backwards onto the bed, braced by her arm. She stares at the ceiling; her expression is unreadable. On the affirmative, the greenrider moves to head toward his stuff and root around for the pocket of his pants for the little jar he brought with him. Once it's found and opened and, well, the rest is probably pretty easy to figure out. By the time he comes back to the bed, he's a little more ready to continue this little party. Physically, at least. The lack of light is probably a good thing because there's a growing anxiety written all over his face. He doesn't really look at Madilla when he starts moving into a more appropriate position. His eyes close completely once he's compensated for lining things up and taken a breath to compose himself. All of this gives Madilla time to-- well, lay back and stress out, probably, though she's going to significant efforts to keep her expression relatively composed. Maybe that helps. She seems to have run out of things to say at this point, and though, as B'tal positions himself, she shifts her gaze from the ceiling towards him, she doesn't even let that linger. No: it's back to the ceiling, intently staring, intense concentration increasingly visible in her expression. "Relax," B'tal repeats but it's more quiet this time, a little distracted with his own concentration focused pretty well elsewhere. He's hesitating to move much further than he ends up, but then something makes him continue that motion he was working at and it's perhaps painfully (okay, well, hopefully not /painfully/) slow going from then on, the greenrider very alert, maybe overly alert, for, well, anything. Madilla gives a hasty little nod of comprehension, presumably attempting to do just that, though this is all /new/ for her, and new things take concentration and concentration means tens-- relax. Right. Though she initially attempts a few deep breaths, she ends up with her teeth on her lower lip, muffling a sound that doesn't give much away as to its origin: surprise, maybe? She sucks in another breath after that, then exhales; otherwise, she's silent and still. So far, so good. Eyes still closed, B'tal might be trying too hard to be careful. He doesn't ask, at any rate. That might distract him too much from his, uh, concentration. When it comes to the point where he moves a little more purposefully, he goes a little tense himself for it and, well, generally being a vocal person at intimate times like these, he can't quite hold back a small sound of his own, a catch in his breath. His voice is quiet when he asks, "You okay?" Madilla seems particularly determined not to distract the greenrider, oh yes, biting at her lip more actively to avoid any further reactions. That doesn't stop her - eventually - from sliding her gaze away from the ceiling and towards him, watching with an expression that is more curious than anything else - except for that bitten lip, perhaps. Not that she lets her gaze linger: that /could/ be distracting. And she has carefully moderated breaths to take. Her response is as quiet as his question: "I'm fine." Fine. B'tal takes that word, or maybe just the lack of any protests, to loosen some of his oh-so-careful tension and take his own advice on that relaxing thing. There's less anxiety in his expression now, more concentration. A lot of concentration. His eyes stay closed but not so tightly and there's a certain rhythm to the way he breathes to match, more or less, the slightly stilted rhythm that he picks up as he leans over her, hands curling tight into the cover of her bed. At least from the way he can't quite hold back the occasional gasp, it shouldn't be /too/ long. It's possible that Madilla's reassurance is built out of a determination to just get this finished, but even if that's true, she doesn't /seem/ to be faring too badly, heavily bitten lip aside. She flicks her eyes back towards him, faintly appraising in her expression as if she's attempting to determine for herself how long this is going to take-- if that's the case, at least she seems to come to conclusions of her own, ones that don't disrupt anything. /She/ doesn't have to do the work here, after all! She can cope. Even if it's not true, B'tal is probably hoping for it to just get finished. Unfortunately those sorts of thoughts aren't entirely conducive to the whole finishing aspect. Fortunately the greenrider is purposefully focused on things that /will/ get this over with, things that Madilla probably wouldn't want to know about in any depth. At the end, being careful is even less of a thought to worry about but it doesn't last very long and while it clearly affects the greenrider, there's no gasping for breath, just breathing somewhat harder, when it's all over. Nope, it's just back to a new level of awkward when B'tal opens his eyes and looks down at the healer even as he pulls from first her, then the bed. It is, indeed, a very good thing that Madilla can't read minds, though perhaps if she thought about it logically, she might suspect-- anyway. Much better this way. Her mouth opens into an 'o' of surprise as he finishes - perhaps it feels different than she may have suspected - but that's not really something to dwell on, not with the distraction of B'tal drawing away like that. She glances at the greenrider, blushing, then turns her attention away again; otherwise, she stays where she is, hips still propped up to give it all that much more of a chance to work. Then, with a deep breath; "Well. It's done. Good." Which probably isn't going to help the awkward at all. Helping the awkward at this point would probably be next to impossible. B'tal looks away from her but he repeats that one word, "Good." Then he's moving toward his clothes to pull them back on, at least his pants, gathering everything else up and shoving his feet into his boots like he's ready to just bolt out of the room. He doesn't quite do that, at least, asks instead without looking back toward her all the way, "Need anything else?" Before he goes, presumably, though he pulls on his shirt in the meanwhile. "No," says Madilla, quickly, managing a smile that may well be more for her own benefit than his. "I'm fine. I-- thank you, B'tal." She turns her head to watch him, now, propping herself up on one arm as she uses the other to pull the covers over herself. It looks like there's more she'd say, but perhaps she doesn't know /how/ to, because no words come out - her mouth doesn't even open. Except, finally, after a long swallow: "I'm sorry. Have a good evening." Thanks usually tend to earn an 'anytime' or something along those lines from the greenrider. In this instance, that's not what he says. It's; "Of course." And he manages a small smile, even. The apology seems entirely unexpected and his gaze seeks her out more directly. "Nothing to be sorry for. Thanks." He pauses, lifting his free hand to rub at the back of his neck, "For letting me be a part of it. You'll let me know when you know anything?" Hopeful. Madilla seems to find that reassuring - some of her own tension dissipates, and her smile becomes a little more genuine. "Of course I will," she promises. /This/ is a much easier thing to think about, apparently. Safer. Less awkward. And hopeful, yes: exciting, even. "You'll be the first person to know." "Good," B'tal says that word again except this time he sounds a lot happier about it. "Let me know if you need anything," he tells her, then starts toward the door, hesitating there. "Take care of yourself, Madilla," are his parting words before he's letting himself out and closing the door behind him. Madilla gives a firm nod, smile still in place, but has nothing else to add to the greenrider; she watches him go in silence. If she has tears? Well, they don't start falling until /after/ the door has closed. |
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