Logs:Barely Not-Weyrlings
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| RL Date: 15 July, 2013 |
| Who: Solith, Telavi, K'zin, Rasavyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: What happens with Telavi, K'zin and their not-adult-like dragons after the graduation and the next day. |
| Where: Weaver, Southern Boll, and Questionably Painted Weyr (K'zin's), High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 28, month 3 & day 1, month 4, turn 32 |
| Mentions: Akazi/Mentions, Babetta/Mentions, Devaki/Mentions, F'manis/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Kinzi/Mentions, Mielline/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Sabella/Mentions, Seani/Mentions, Sybile/Mentions, Tolman/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated, played via gdocs, written as collaborative vignette/preface and subsequent scene. |
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| For Telavi, weyrling graduation: high point. Not being tapped like those others, not being able to catch your favored wingleader's eye, even: low point. Getting invited to visit the beloved sister of someone you've only just made up with: well-hidden freaky freaky freaky point, especially considering that the one time she saw you, you didn't see her because you were trying not to look freaked out over something else entirely. Getting to Weaverhall and finding out that she's not there after all? Priceless! At least, minus the initial flicker of relief, Telavi could look genuinely sorry at the news; she was missing out on seeing Babs, after all, and not only that, K'zin's sister and ex-aunt turned out to have been recently posted elsewhere... though no one available that evening was able to tell them where. Though disappointed, K'zin wasn't overly concerned. He was surprised Kinzi hadn't written of it, but he was certain he'd receive correspondence sooner or later about the change. Seeing Babs had been more of an afterthought for him than intended in the visit, someone who might know where to find his sister now. At least there was food, including tastier fruit than High Reaches' at that! The doorkeeper had sent them to what kitchen staff was still about, having taken pity on two barely-not-weyrlings who'd been so excited at the prospect of seeing family. On the way out, of course, they proceeded to take a 'wrong turn' and sneaked through the darkened Hall like two wayward apprentices out after-hours; an exploration complete with dark niches and stifled laughter at inopportune times. When Telavi just had to try the door to Babetta's former workroom (even though K'zin advised her it was a silly notion), it proved to be barred, but perhaps that would have been true this time of night even if Babs hadn't been reassigned as well. "What did you hope to find anyway?" K'zin had wanted to know. "A clue!" was Telavi's ready response. It had K'zin laughing, too loud, prompting a vanishing into another convenient niche lest there be a not-reassigned Journeyman about to scold them. But with food taken care of, no relatives to delay them, and several hours still until midnight, what next? Unlike the shortened weyrling trip, Southern Boll proved to be conveniently free of storms and shipwrecks, with or without slit throats. They thought of traveling further, but Boll was enjoying nice weather and was suitably tropical, and they weren't on the prowl for drink or more company than each other, so why bother? And Boll, of course, meant beach. Moonlight, waves, moonlight glimmering off the waves, the quiet cove couldn't have made for a more classic vacation destination, particularly with the blanket K'zin retrieved from the pack on his riding straps to keep the sand away. It had been nice. Peaceful. Playful, with K'zin having made it a game, to see just how special he could make graduation night for the lovers that had been apart for months. Tela played along this time, and not just because it made it easier to not talk much beyond the here and the now, not of wings or tomorrows that hadn't yet come. It might've been nice to stay and watch at least the next tomorrow's sunrise there at the edge of the beach, but napping with a dragon for a backrest wasn't the most comfortable way to sleep. Especially with the ocean right there and calling to Solith to come play. It worked out better when she gave in and comparatively sedate Rasavyth took his turn, her rider leaning back into the bronze's with the blanket wrapped about them both, the warm tropical breeze playing with loosened hair. Even so, they awoke (who can say who did the waking first; one shifting, the other waking, the other shifting, the one waking) when the stars were still glittering. And there was another stop they needed to make, at last. It was well after midnight at High Reaches and officially the dragons' turndays, after all, and while the winged beasts weren't about to get dressed up in pretty dresses or Pink Monstrosities, certainly they should be celebrated. Southern! Hunting! More a present for Solith than the hunt-challenged Rasavyth. But a present for Rasavyth was a wherry killed by Solith's own claws; a present for Solith was that she got to kill it (and that the bronze set aside his lofty opinions on hygiene to groom Solith, playing along with her faux protestations when she'd finished eating). There were even 'candles,' impromptu torches stuck into the corpses for that extra festive glow before the dragons got to eat, Telavi murmuring about how they should copy that idea and whose Turnday was next, anyway? Surely Sybile would need such a thing on her and Miroth's ledge.... Once the dragons had had enough, they gathered themselves and took to wing, blinking back to the familiar if dark and chill surroundings of their home. It was to Rasavyth's ledge that they went then, not spending much time on bedtime rituals, although the greenrider couldn't convince the bronzerider to return to sleep immediately. It was enough to think maybe they should take many-month-long-breaks more often, except it seemed there was more to it than that. He had purred in her ear when his hands were at work, "I want you to think of only this. Only us. Only now. I'm not sharing you tonight." Not even, apparently, with her imagination. Afterward, there still wasn't any pillow talk, even now that they once again had pillows, any hope of it crushed by K'zin passing out like he hadn't slept in a turn. At least he doesn't snore!
Not that Telavi doesn't stir when it gets to be about that time, in the warm dark room under the quilt with the fireli... yes, Biter's followed her here, or so the first tentative shift of her foot tells her. Perhaps he will remain asleep. Perhaps, even if he does wake up, he won't bite; certainly she and Solith have worked on his training. Perhaps, even if he does, he'll continue to find her toes tastier than... K'zin's, right, and she stretches cautiously but with a great deal of satisfaction before turning over so her back's tucked up against the other rider. The nice warm other rider. The... She might once have been thinking, but any thoughts seem to drift away, and she's in no hurry to chase after them. There's rousing from K'zin, finally, enough that he's rolling onto his side, slowly, brown eyes fluttering sleepily and finding focus on Telavi's sleeping face. He tries not to disturb her much, but with his arm under her neck, some of the movement can't help but travel. If it does wake her in turn, it would almost certainly come with the feel of his other hand traveling across her stomach, the touch purposeful, coaxing. Round... how many? He's lost track. It's nothing that bothers the motion-activated bomb of a firelizard, yet, though if still-drowsy Telavi's toes keep curling like that, it might. They reach back to flatten against K'zin's ankles, and brace the leisurely, back-arching stretch that rubs her hair into him on the other point of that arc. She yawns. "I felt that," she tells him so informatively, a smile in her slow, sleep-scratchy voice. "And that." "Yeah?" K'zin's murmur has it's own evidence of recent sleep. "How about this?" There's silence from him in which he awaits an answer, but not a lack of movement. And then another answer, "Can you feel that now?" And another. His intentions become obvious. As so many heroes, he's ignorant to the terror that lurks, the same one he unknowingly braves with his feet so close to the bottom of the bed to instigate a morning round of the same game they were playing the night before. Hopefully they come out of it unscathed. She can, so says her drowsy nod, followed by a still-drowsy laugh surprised out of her, followed by... eventually, "Morning." She says it like, 'Good morning.' "Just a little tender, is all. Breather?" only the question's for understanding, not acceptability. Tela yawns. "Aaaand," she confides in about five syllables for that one word, "I'd really, really, really like to wash up." That might even rate before food. Maybe. Perhaps even the mere allusion to a meal has summoned the firelizard from the depths, headknobs making the covers bob up and down as he approaches the pillows, and even if that means that toes stay safe for another day... there are still pointy talons that have Tela attempting to clutch K'zin's arm to her as armor just in case. "Morning," the word is delivered with smug amusement, eyes lingering on the blonde one moment longer before moving. K'zin's attempts to haul himself out of the bed are stymied by that death-grip Telavi is suddenly enacting on his arm. Only, not quite in time to stop the motion entirely, so perhaps she is pulled out of harm's reach by the fact that she's thusly dragged a foot before K'zin sits back down hard on the bed. He's gone far enough that one of his legs has slid from under the covers and toes are touching the floor. "Oof", comes his only complaint. If she's still holding on, then she's in for more of a ride, because this time the flex of the muscles is purposeful, a guard against accidentally injuring himself with Telavi's clinging weight as K'zin leeeeeeeeeeeens out of the bed, his toes bracing against the floor to snag the pack from his riding straps that he brought into the bedroom with them. It's a comedic process, but eventually he snags fingers through a loop and pulls it up onto the bed. Flipping it open, it doesn't take him long to produce the few pieces of fruit that had been pocketed from the tropics. He holds them out for Tela to choose from. Something to quell their by-now rumbly tummies. "I think a trip to some hot springs and a really good--" He pauses, "--lunch is in order. Unless you've plans for the day that don't include me?" The manner is the same of the night before. Today, he doesn't want to share her. At first, hanging on was for a shield; then, as Biter spurts out from under everything and into the air, cawing in raucous surprise, it's part startled reflex and part because it's like a ride; after that, it's because if she were to let go, that lean might just send him crashing to the floor. There was a 'Sorry!' in there somewhere, but now there's just laughing. "First you rescued me from the mighty monster," the one whom Tela faces just about every morning, currently perched atop the wardrobe in high dudgeon and preening his wings back into respectability, "and then brought back treasure. Edible treasure," which she proves after going with the apricot and trying a bite. His proposal gains an upturned glance, dimples peeking out even if her mouth's busy with her chewing; if such possessiveness continues, it may lead to a conversation, but today... is today, which is not the same as yesterday. Today, "As it happens, I've become acquainted with a perfectly nice hot springs, though once upon a time some daring climber or other managed to scribble all sorts of things on the rock around it. Can you believe it? And lunch," said with the exact same pause, "sounds delightful. If you're sure it will be really good." Of course, Biter's gotten to cawing again with all these thoughts of lunch, flicking his tail back and forth like some expensive, animated clock, and Tela shoots the firelizard a glance of exasperation. They're having banter, here. Can't they have banter in peace? And fruit? Solith... WHUMP! Well, obnoxious firelizards are good for something. Kazi goes for kama-Kazi style greetings on his clutchbrother. Probably because he had been sleeping in the dirty shirt that found it's way too far back on the top of the wardrobe to be noticed by any without a step-stool. It all happens in a flash as glacier blue body-chucks bronze, seeking to assume the other firelizard's perch with a lazy yawn. (You know, if he's not dragged down with the other beast.) Maybe it'll shut off the annoying alarm. "Oh yeah? Should I bring my chalk so you can try it yourself?" K'zin asks, apparently oblivious to the assist from the blue. "And I can't be sure lunch will be really good. I don't really know how to catch and cook my own beyond what weyrlinghood has taught us," And she was on the camping trip, the lesson there was: don't let K'zin near the cooking pit or the sharp and stabby objects. "But I figured we could find somewhere for food afterward. I believe I heard Bitra's hospitable to those willing to surrender some marks to the gambling tables. I probably have a few to spare." Biter's lifted off his paws by Kazi's blow, wings flapping wildly for support and one of them clunking into the hard wood, but as for giving up? No way. Game on. He'll get rough-and-tumble if he has to, because clearly none of the other possible perches in the room are good enough: not the mantel above the hearth, not the wall-hooks for the glowbaskets, definitely not the dresser top, and certainly nothing lower than that. Also, it's fun. Hush, Solith. Luckily for him if not for Telavi, Solith's more amused than anything and doesn't swat him like the little bronze bug he might as well be. "Yes," says Tela as she employs the ewer and cloth to clean her hands, possibly even more excited about the climbing than the fruit, which might be saying something. "It would probably be safer in summer," but summer isn't today. "So definitely the chalk, and why don't I just bag us something from the caverns before we go, save the marks?" Surely she wouldn't get all that distracted along the way. Kazi doesn't apparently have the same attachment to that particular perch. It just seemed the thing to do after dislodging the temporarily-more-annoying-than-himself firelizard that had been perched there. He manages to get the yawn out just in time for the bronze to come back at him with force. An obvious, noisy clash of claws and biting maws ensues. K'zin is possibly the worst firelizard owner in the world given that he only glances toward the ongoing ruckus before he's eating his own fruit and then moves to pull on clothes and start gathering the requisite supplies. "We could just get a bite down there before the springs, you know. I just figured you'd want to bathe before showing your face down there." He hurries to add, "Not that you're anything less than glowing, but-- you know, glowing from me." And all of their physical exertions. "And I don't mind spending the marks, you know. I'm starting to get sales." He reaches to push a hand through his hair. "I need you to cover your eyes. Or go in the other room for a minute. I have a present for you. A graduation gift." Kind of. Telavi might be the most reckless firelizard 'owner' in the world given how she bounces out of bed and starts shooing, complete with "Stop that!" and "Don't even!" followed by a very vivid and vocal wishing that the Red Star, Biter would go to it, right now. He does disappear somewhere, at least, leaving Telavi to reach up to the top of the wardrobe only to hang herself off of it. There's starting to be audible agreement there, except after what he says next, "Did you really say that? You really said that." Tela's pressing her forehead into the door of the wardrobe, hard, because if she let go with even one hand it would only be to hide her blushing face in her palm instead. "If anyone heard you... I'm just going to cover the rest of me, first." Which she then proceeds to do, before making friends with the wardrobe again. Not looking! The shooing is enough to get Kazi to vanish as well, though he does peek back in for just long enough to scream behind Telavi's head. He has good timing though. Well, awful depending on who's counting the time. It's just long enough that everyone thinks they're safe, that all the ruckus is totally finished. In this case, it's when Telavi has finally rejoined with the wardrobe door. Where's K'zin when Telavi reacts to the scream? Why, up against the side of the wardrobe, one arm slipped behind it. Kazi screams, Telavi... well, it's between a shriek and a squawk, clutching at her tangled hair as she whirls. No more closed eyes! K'zin yelps, having pulled too fast, too hard, to jump back at Telavi's shriek-squawk, pinching the tender skin of the inner arm. And just like that, the menace is gone again! His work here is done. Havoc is left in his wake. Tela clutching her hair and K'zin shaking his arm because... ow! Gone... for now. Given the glare Telavi casts to... nothingness, now, but where the blue must have been, she isn't wholly convinced that it's for long enough, much less forever. But that's an instant, before, "Are you all right?" Of course she would turn back to K'zin, assessing. That arm-shaking isn't a reenactment of some kind, is it? Some kind of ritual passed down through miner families? "I'm fine, I'm fine," K'zin reassures, "Just pinched my arm." He's looking around, probably trying to check the area for further danger. "Sorry. Kazi's a jerk." There's no apparent danger, so then, nervousness as he reaches to rub the one spot that got winched. "You didn't see what I was doing, right?" Right? "Right," Telavi agrees more cheerfully now, what with the lack of bleeding, lack of lack of formerly-attached limbs, and of course K'zin's tone. "How did you come up with his name, anyway? It sounds so much like yours." Should she be averting her eyes around now? She tries studying the ceiling, lips pursed, though she refrains from actually whistling. "You, back to closing your eyes. You want your present or not?" K'zin may be dumb, but apparently he's not that stupid. Maybe if she'd whistled. She's not working, so, no whistling. Except, wait, there's a descending note, an audibly whistled sigh, before Tela hushes up to listen with each hand over the opposite eye. They may or may not be closed, but at least she still can't see! Scrape, scratch, ka-chunk, shhhhhhhgh. Wood against wood. Then a few moments later, the sounds again, but in reverse. Open and shut. Then still a few more moments later, her shoulder is getting tapped lightly with what feels like, and proves to be sizable rolled papers. "You can look now. Happy graduation, Telavi." A pause. "Sketches I couldn't resist sketching." And he's improved! One is Telavi alone, the backdrop familiarly the waterfall. Boy, does she ever look hot! This is definitely not the type of drawing to take home to family, and not only because she's lacking any kind of clothes. The second one, hidden behind the first seems to hold the leash on most of K'zin's nervousness. It's one of the pair of them. Equally inappropriate to bring home to family and in similar surroundings. Admittedly, the drawing of K'zin isn't quite so accurate and flattering as the one of Telavi alone. But then, less experience. Apparently. All those interesting sounds. Telavi's extra attentive, and for once, actually doesn't look even with the tap until K'zin says to. Then, her smile's for him even before the papers. "Happy graduation, K'zin," she says gravely, leaning in a quest for a kiss before taking the step back to lean back against the wardrobe and unroll the sketches, one at a time. No, she hasn't learned not to blush yet, her eyes low-lidded for several moments behind the further concealment of her lashes, her smile curving. "You did remember," she says, and looks some more. "They're." How to put this? K'zin's fist is poised on his chin, index finger curled in front of his lower lip as she takes in the drawings. His brows are furrowed, expression extremely attentive. As she hesitates in describing the work, he starts to reach for them again, "Well, if you don't like them," He starts, tugging gently at the top of the papers, to see if she'll let them be reclaimed. Perhaps from her reaction, he can't tell if she likes them or not, and this will be the telltale reaction to clue him in. There's a quick tug back, of course, Telavi looking reproving. "Mine." She even goes so far as to try and circle the unrolled top of them with her arm for protection, not that that helps them stay unrolled. "You are a known sketch-of-me-burner," and also of certain other sketches that deserved it a whole lot more, and also he's someone who's made sales recently even if she isn't herself concerned about that, "and I am going to take good care of these. I can trust you, can't I, to hold them open so I can look better... but not steal them back?" The tug back merits a smile from the artist. One that grows as she makes her accusation and then asks about trust. "You can always trust me, Telavi." That probably goes several degrees deeper than she'd intended to get from him, but it's wholly genuine. K'zin carefully takes the sketches so she can examine first, and then the next. And this time he stays quiet for her full review, or whatever she wants to say of them, if anything. Trust him... one brow quirks up, but her voice is soft, a little slower than the words might ordinarily leave her lips. "To steal them? Because I saw what you did there." Tela tilts his hands, if he'll permit it, to let the light better reach the sketches. "And I like what you did here with the... lights and darks? The shading. And she's so expressive, she's not just sitting there like a bump on a log. Do I... really look like that?" Does it really show, and not just in the expression of her face, what she feels? She'd been studying the first sketch, but now her gaze rises to his face instead. "Right. To steal them. Of course." K'zin delivers it deadpan, which can only mean he's joking. His hands tilt obligingly so she can have whatever angle she wishes. All the while he watches her face. "Do you really look like that in what way? Smokin' hot and -- enjoying yourself?" His brows lift in genuine inquiry, "I'd say you've always got the first part. But the enjoying yourself... well, sometimes we've had some problems getting you to look like that. But in an ideal world you'd look kinda like that every time." He purses his lips in a faux thoughtful moment. It's a thought that's occurred to him before, but now he brings it up like it's true. "Although that time in particular you were probably proddy. So it might have been a little different. I didn't notice at the time." Notice that things were more carefree? More gentle? That it was more like something that had emotion fueling it? Nah, he didn't notice any of that. He chews his lower lip. Knowing by now what it means, that has her smiling a touch, something that lingers in darkened blue eyes... at least until early in his reply when her gaze slips away and she begins to roll up the first sheet with great care, slowly but for one brief slip for problems. "I didn't think it was that," she says to the sketch, for all that it's the reverse side that's visible now. "I still don't." He doesn't speak but instead simply gives a nod. If she says it wasn't different... well, he's not going to be the one to protest right now. It would be far too adult to talk about things now, while they're still semi-current. K'zin's quick to defend the next. "I don't usually draw myself, so you're going to have to overlook the bits that aren't quite right, I was supposed to draw myself once before, only then I did the backdrops for the play instead, and then--" Babbling. He stops, back to chewing on the lip. "Is-- this too much? I can burn it." He offers with real commitment behind the words. But she's not looking, and so she doesn't see, but then again she doesn't want to protest now or later. Besides, they're hungry, and also there's this picture that's waiting for its own chance at attention. "Please," is all Tela says, quietly, and turns to that picture. As she looks it over, she gets this wondering smile and she has to ask, her eyes the brighter for it even if they are half-concealed by her lashes, "Was it all from your imagination, or did you have Rasavyth look at you, for you, or did you have a model, or... and why were you 'supposed to'? and no, no burning." Telavi smiles up at K'zin, complete with dimples. "This may become a catchphrase." "Combination of things. Imagination, Rasavyth, mirrors. Drawing oneself isn't nearly so easy as drawing someone else. I was trying to draw myself in exercises with Tolman and it's not as easy as drawing anyone else. You end up staring in mirrors for long enough that your face doesn't make sense anymore." Babbling, again. K'zin quiets, but then wasn't there some other question he was supposed to answer? But given that he has to ask again, she will too: "Is this too much? Even if there's no burning." "It's funny, isn't it, how we look at our faces so much less than everyone else... Tolman?" As long as she's questioning, Tela has to add, "I still want to hear about that other drawing," or proto-drawing or whatever, but, "No. No, I like it. I just have to figure out where to put it. Unless..." Telavi puts a finger to one dimple as though thinking, though she can't be trying to hide that she's teasing, not with all the teeth visible in that grin, "you think it should go just inside my weyr to greet everyone who walks in? No?" "Well, if you want to promote me," K'zin replies with a cheesy, sleazy, business-man smile, leaning forward to half-leer at Telavi over the paper. Then rocking back on his heels, he answers her other question, "Tolman's an apprentice. He likes to draw. I've been-- well, I guess hanging out with him some. Working on technique and stuff." "Your drawing?" Tela inquires ingenuously, even while she aims to tap his nose as long as he's in range and then lightly tug the paper back towards her for safekeeping. "Draw me a picture that's actually safe to give to my uncle, and I'll promote you that way." Whatever she's thinking about, her smile is certainly speculative. "Let's hold that thought and go eat. Wash, and eat, and well, I have to find somewhere safe to stash this first, but then wash and change and eat and climb and then I want to hear about the rest." Demanding. "No. My hooking skills. By the way, you've run up quite a bill." K'zin answers deadpan, "It's on the back of the drawing, for convenience." Will she look? He laughs then, "Something safe to give your uncle. I think I can handle that. You want one of you and Solith together? Or just your face? Or you at your mending? You could for example, help make new cushion covers for Rasavyth's couch so it's not so hideous and I could draw you while you're doing it." Talent for talent. As long as they're making requests. He moves to take the first drawing so he can roll it with the second. "I'll stash them for now, and you can come back for them later. Once you've sorted a safe place, hm?" It gets them out of there faster, at any rate. "I didn't know you knew how to crochet. All that and drawing too," and Telavi smiles at him all over again. "Just my face, and no Solith because then he wouldn't see much of me, would she? Unless you could put her in the border or something, because then that wouldn't be to scale on purpose, and it would be fun. We can certainly talk about cushion covers after we eat, too, or maybe while we eat, and..." she breaks off to eye the would-be drawing-thief. "I think in my armoire would be safe enough for now. But it is raining... You'll give them back to me just as soon as I ask? No holding them for ransom?" Not to give ideas. "Did I hold your turnday gifts ransom?" He could have held the dress for ransom once it was on his ... well, in his wardrobe since Telavi would never consent to see it on the floor, despite K'zin's insisting that that was half the fun of a new dress. "We could play with perspective a little. Maybe you in the foreground and her in the distant background flying or something." The artist suggests, but there's more time to work out the details. "I won't hold them for ransom, but you'd better get out to the other room so I can put them somewhere safe. And I'll meet you and we can... what did we decide?" K'zin's forgotten in the wake of all the firelizard sneak attacks and gift-giving. Does she have to answer that? Her laugh might be answer enough, though, followed by her dutifully exiting... or, no. Tela peeks back in afterward, since after all, he'd asked a question. "Climbing. Also," and this is where she should really come up with something teasing and creative that they hadn't agreed upon at all: something outrageously beyond cushions and getting clean, stray pictures and backdrops, even wings and fists and harper girls, except her belly is back to rumbling again because fruit is not enough. This time, she disappears for good. K'zin is left looking confused after she left without answering, then the peek back in, in which time he hadn't moved, and then her words, and, and... confusing. It doesn't take too long for him to join her in the main room. "I think we said something about food and hot springs." He seems to have collected some of his thoughts while pulling on another layer. He's got two satchels over his shoulder. "I can duck into the living cavern to get us food, if you want. They're used to me smelling." Maybe not quite like this, but he's a boy, so it's more acceptable. Right? Telavi can be found peeking through the doorway of his workout cavern, as though he might have moved in even more equipment, or festooned the whole place with flowers, or possibly even bloodied the bag even more than it had been before; after all, there had been those knuckle-scabs if not the other bruises. "If you do that, I'll get clothes." Clothes, glorious clothes, and even an ex-weyrling should know how to not take long. "Meet you there?" That hot spring, even though the rest of that writing surely hasn't survived the rain. There's no new equipment, but the flowers that had strung across his punching bag are now draped carefully on the shelves that hold all the different training equipment fresh towels and first aid supplies. And the bag shows signs of wear, but it all blends into itself. Since the door to the training room is so close to the bedroom, K'zin's stopping short and twisting toward her. "Sounds like a plan." Then a pivot again to head to where his flight jacket hangs on the back of 'his' chair at the table. "Oh, hey, do you think you could sew my wing patch on for me later? I'd do it, but my stitches are pretty messy. Delicate work and all that." He asks it casually, as if it were no big deal. "And Ras doesn't want my messy stitching on the custom jacket." Or custom clothes in general. "Wing? Which wing?" Telavi, not so casual, shutting the door behind her now that she's had her look-and-then-smile around, then moving to check the jacket closer up. "I'll bring a few shades of thread, why not." She's just about always got a needle. But still, the important part is: that wing. K'zin tries not to look unhappy, but the grimace pretty much kills the attempt in its tracks. "Taiga." Simple. His voice, at least, isn't full of the annoyance and frustration that's on his face. He fishes into an inner pocket on the jacket to produce the patch so she can see the colors needed. "Oh, K'zin. I'm sorry." Tela does angle a look at the patch, comparing its border to the leather beyond, but then she's looking up at him. "Did F'manis...?" It couldn't be even that slight bit less than completely difficult, could it? "K'del." She doesn't need to trail off much. K'zin readily supplies the name, the ugh all but said. "The only wing I didn't want." He sighs, jacket ending up back flopped over the top of the chair as he grips the top edge. "He didn't come, Tela. I needed a ride after your flight, and he didn't come. Cadejoth said he was busy. But Cadejoth came." He stares hard at a point of nothing between chairback and tabletop. "I needed more than a ride. He said we'd talk 'tomorrow'. 'Tomorrow' I got a note that said he couldn't and that we'd talk soon. That was almost two sevens ago." His grip tightens. "I wrote him and said I was sorry. Before all that. He didn't reply." It's all delivered dryly, without a lot of emotion. He doesn't need to get very far. Telavi simply slides over and puts her arm around him, if that won't disrupt the story. It tightens briefly for him and Cadejoth, good Cadejoth. K'zin puts it so dryly, and she's looking not at his face but his hands, those knuckles. "I'm so sorry." Now: every day, just about, he'll see him. She doesn't say anything to praise his apology, to ask about needing a ride and needing more, to decry the time or wonder whether that early message had gone astray. She's just there, for him. Suddenly, she may not be so hungry anymore. K'zin's shoulders shrug, but not so much as to dislodge Telavi's arm. "Whatever. It's done. Nothing I can do about it. He probably just wants me where he can control me, or keep closer tabs on me so I stop trying to find out whatever it is he doesn't want me to know." Well, that just slipped right out there. His eyes go searching ceilingwards, a look of attempted innocence. "Uh." He glances sideways toward Telavi. It's an evaluating look, can he pretend that didn't just happen? Is she going to let them just move on? As if. "Trying to find out?" Telavi repeats, and yes, she is looking at that expression of his now, hers concern and new curiosity and a hint of trepidation. Her arm slips from his shoulders but only to snug in about his waist, a tug. "What are you getting into, K'zin?" K'zin's nose wrinkles. "I'm just--..." He makes the mistake of looking down at her. Tela, with those eyes that don't even have to be doing something special for him to not want to lie to her. "I've just been trying to understand what's happened in the Weyr in the last ten turns or so that's gotten us into all this mess that we're in, with the Holds. I asked K'del some questions about ..." He winces, and then in a rush, "About the time Cadejoth found a girl murdered in their weyr. And he got really mad because there's confidential information and I guess he thinks I want to tell everyone, but, like," And now he's defending, "It bothers me that no one was ever identified as the murderer. And they just let the investigation fade away. And let everyone believe that Devaki, now Lord Devaki was the murderer and--" He looks to her hopefully. Does she get it? "Everyone thinks I'm crazy." He confesses in the next moment. He looks down, and Tela keeps looking up: taking it all in, or nearly all, not just what K'zin says but how he says it. She can't help but wince when he does, teeth pressing into her lower lip at murdered, at mad, at murderer. She can't get it yet either, not really, she doesn't know enough, but she does believe, "I don't think you're crazy." Telavi says it quite firmly, too, without having to think twice or even add a 'yet' on the end. If some small part of it might have to do with jumping in on his side against this nebulous 'everyone'... wait. "'Everyone'?" Her voice gets quieter as she says it; she blinks a couple times in quick succession. There's relief in K'zin's face when she sides with him on the lack of crazy, but the relief turns back to tension when she asks about that 'everyone'. He reaches up to rub the back of his neck, blush redoubling. "Um." An answer might be forthcoming, he glances down at Tela, it's another glance to see if he can get away with just moving on, but apparently just the simple reminder that this is Telavi assures him he's going to have to answer and it had better be sooner than later. "When I say everyone, I don't really mean everyone. I just mean everyone of the people that I've told. Which is not a lot of people. But... like... K'del. And... the... couple of others." A beat, and he quirks a brow, "Didn't Sabs tell you?" No interruption from Telavi, no, and no looking away either, or at least not for long. Every now and again there's that doubled blink, though, until at last she frees her hand to rub it over her face-- Sabs-- and then both of them back over her hair. She pulls some of the blonde locks over one shoulder, then, and starts picking at the accumulated loose tangles because that's just become critically important. "Why, no. No, she didn't. Was she supposed to?" The word choice... is reasonably calm. Her voice has a bit of a tremble escaping, here and there, though she's sitting on it hard. "Er..." He remember that taste... it's been a while but... that's... yes! Foot! It tastes like foot in his mouth! "I just-- assumed-- you guys tell each other everything. You always were -- like-- attached at the hip in weyrlinghood." K'zin should just stop. Once it tastes like foot, it's only going to go from average foot to post-workout-foot or worse. But, well, he's due for something really dumb. "It was like a month and a half ago, and we ran into each other pretending to be other people in a bar in Southern. And she made these assumptions about why I was there, which really doesn't make any sense, because Quinlys said no one but she and I knew about the note I found and gave to Quinlys, but Sabs did, somehow," Babble babble, breath. Should he stop here? Oh, he shouldn't have started, and it goes on. "Anyway, so she and I got to talking and she said we could be friends again, and I told her we shouldn't, but then we were, and I'd agreed to tell her what I was doing there, and so I told her about things and then babbled to her about how our sex life went to shit and-" Could he look more embarrassed? It's about here that his brain catches up with the fact that he's just digging the hole deeper. "Shells. I'm a fucking idiot, aren't I." Apparently, it took all this and looking back on it and now to come to that brilliant realization. "I'm sorry, Tela. I should've-- a lot of things, but especially this." He's turning to snag up her hands, expression pleading. "I should've done this differently." And her face is aiming for calm, too, even if it winds up with an emphasis on pale, pressed-together lips that start to part for that attached at the hip part but then slam right back shut again, and those eyes that focus-focus-focus. Is it better or worse that there's no shock and outrage for those last bits of babbling? Tela's going to get split ends if this keeps up, the way she's working at her hair. His reach meets with resistance at first, and not just from being caught in the blonde sort of tangles; then, though, she's gripping his hands right back, as hard if not harder. Before any of the rest of it, "This, K'zin? What's this, which part of this do you mean?" "This, us." K'zin starts, as if that explains. "I mean I should have told you myself. I should have probably come to you first. I just--" He chews his lower lip, "Are we--" It already tastes like feet, might as well go for broke. "Is what we have-- what we do-- is it different than everyone else?" Tela nods, and then she's nodding very firmly indeed, yes himself, yes her-first, "Ye--" and then her brows draw in because weren't they talking about his mission and, "Are you going to start talking about rules again? Because I am not a hallucination." "What?" K'zin's brows furrow in confusion, apparently not following that particular response. But then, he was hopped up on cough medicine. "Answer the question. Is this different to you? More than just rolling around in a bed or wherever?" "Yes." Defiant. Tela's chin might be sticking out some, even. "And you trust me?" It's asked that way, but for all that, it sounds more like K'zin's asking in that simple phrase 'can I trust you?'. On a sigh, still looking up at him: "Yes." She probably should qualify it. She doesn't. "Tela... if I weren't-- always a good person, would you still want me?" She's probably due for answers, and K'zin's probably getting there, but there's uncertainty, concern, and vulnerability showing in his face. "Yes." There's no sigh this time, only a slight tilt to Tela's mouth where half wants to be a smile, and half.. doesn't. "None of us are, are we? It's only, I'd like to think we try." K'zin's expression is suddenly decisive and his mouth opens. Then, something happens. His eyes flare slightly and his expression falls. "Shit." It's not directed at Tela. He's not looking at her now. But on the ledge, Rasavyth is gazing at Solith, a soft look. K'zin's head cranes around to look toward the ledge and then back at Telavi and then back at the ledge, and once more to the woman whose hands he's gripping like a lifeline. "I'm going to--" He struggles, its visible in his face, and his shoulders sag with a sigh, "--to better." He finishes lamely. "Tell you more things." More, but not everything. It's that look that has Solith lifting her head from her paws, hers a drowsy look, a blinking look that's so different from her rider's: a slow lift of that innermost lid, followed by its drifting back down and the others after it, after which only the outer two rise. She yawns, and rubs her muzzle against her paw again, back and forth in a wiggle that ever so gradually makes its way down and down to the very tip of her tail before it too falls slack. "'More,'" her rider repeats, intent. Tela's followed K'zin's look to the ledge, if only enough to get a sense of its direction, because his expression and, briefly, his hands are what she's attending to. She doesn't let go. "Go ahead," she encourages, her voice softer too. K'zin takes a deep breath, but instead of speaking, he just lets it out, leans forward and presses a kiss to Telavi's forehead. "At the springs. I'm starving, and dirty. I promise I'll tell you more at the springs." And he will. After they've divided and conquered, him getting food, her getting clothes and met at that particular hot spring down Bitra-way, he'll give her a glimpse into the secret world of K'zin. No eyeful, but at least a glimpse. Progress. |
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