Logs:Battle Picking

Battle Picking
"This is me we're talkin' 'bout here."
RL Date: 15 August, 2015
Who: Jo, Tacuseth

Type: Vignette
What: The night after Aeaeth's flight, Tacuseth confronts Jo just a little about his observations.
Where: Somewhere outside Tillek
When: Day 16, Month 7, Turn 38 (Interval 10)

Mentions: Yesia/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions

OOC Notes: Jo-ness (it's its own label at this point. Don't judge me).


« You like her. » He's said it before, but this time there's far too much certainty. Tacuseth likes to pick the most awkward, vulnerable, or inopportune times to drop his little wisdom tidbits. It helps when she's also too preoccupied and distracted to see it coming, too. Having to deal with someone like Jo for the rest of one's life, one has to learn when and how to pick your battles. Apparently, this is a battle the blue dragon was going to pick tonight - with the convict rider out on a lead she picked up in trying to locate her brother, Lijo. The lead was a long time coming, really. Since those very first meetings with her brother, Jolan, R'hin present at them, she's been on the quiet lookout for the wayward one. She's out near Tillek that evening of Aeaeth's flight, preoccupied in talking with a small band of traders about his recent whereabouts when the dragon's shadows and brief words had penetrated her mind. With her guard down and her thoughts exposed to her dragon, those words and the images that came with them had Jo suddenly stumbling as she walked with the head trader. The images were of her frustrations and desires satisfied that second time - skin of tanned, hard lean muscle flushed against pale softness as the pleasure she gave was not in her control. The memory was strong of Jo of kissing pale skin, red hair spilled over her as she explored her with her mouth - her tongue - her fingers ...reveling in any encouraged exploration that Yesia took of her body... « I know what yer doin', brat, » Jo shoots the irritated thought towards her dragon as she answers to the head traderman, "Ya said he looked like me?" and gestures at herself. "How long ago did'ja see him?" « Stop it. Fuck. » Silence from Tacuseth meets those words as the man answers Jo with, "A sevenday or two. Maybe three," and he really sounds apologetic for his own memory lapse. "We've been on the move for a bit, so, it's hard to tell. I do remember him, though. Staying over at that tavern by the docks. Might want to sniff about there and see-" « You like few, » Tacuseth's mind cuts in, cutting off Jo's attention from the man as brief images of one bad trader boy and a bronzerider gone south infiltrate at that moment. It's enough to make Jo curse aloud and take a few steps away from the trader. "Thanks for the tip," she says to him, her voice suddenly tight as she sends to her dragon as well, « Man must think I'm mental now! Remember that black box in my head, where I've told'ja to stay outta it? » The mental box of the secrets and thoughts she keeps from others, even her dragon. She's walking away from the man now, swiftly back towards her dragon. Tacuseth clearly lost that memo, or had forgotten it. Always conveniently, of course. « Oh, that box, » he sends, and...did Jo detect a bit of sarcasm with that? « It's a nice box. Has interestin' things in it. The lid knocked itself over and I just happened to be there when it did. » There's a pause. Waiting. Jo knows what he wants her to say, and so once Tacuseth is in view, she slaps his side with a look going his way. At least there's no malice. "Those were flight feelins'. She's young." The 'too' is missing, but it's implied in her explanations as she mounts on him. "Fuck's sake, this is me we're talkin' 'bout here." Teflon Jo. « Aeaeth's young, too, » Tacuseth returns with little else, well versed in knowing an image from truth.. « But she's good. Ya need some good in your life again, Jo. » This last is given with the honesty only a lifemate can give, the blue firm in this regard. « With the things we do...gettin' so deep into it- » "What I need is to find my brother before he gets shit outta luck like I did," Jo speaks it aloud, mentally shutting down that avenue of what he says. "What we need is to survive." She sicks mental images of Biron and Lanvec, their loyal Reaches crew and the other bosses that they service. Anything but having to focus. To admit. Tacuseth's not fooled, of course. Where usually Jo gets angry enough to shut down on him - their weyrlinghood confrontations were legendary in his mind as far as he can remember - this time she doesn't. This time something resonates, even if she shifts the conversation away from what he wants to talk about. He'll concede, for now. There was plenty of opportunity and time to battle again. « Let's go check out this tavern for your brother. »