Logs:Boots of... doom?
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 27 April, 2013 |
| Who: Telavi, K'zin, I'zech, Solith, Rasavyth, Rojeth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Telavi and K'zin are caught in a compromising position by the best AWLM (only they don't know he's the best, yet). |
| Where: Bathing Pools, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 13, Month 8, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| OOC Notes: This scene directly follows Logs: Confrontation and Logs: Shame and embarrassment |
| |
| Bathing Pools, High Reaches Weyr Omnipresent clouds of steam slink across the tops of three naturally warm pools, set into the floor of this kidney-shaped cavern. Near the entrance the ceiling is high and polished, gleaming with little mineral specks as it sweeps downward into increasingly ragged, uneven steps. The foremost of the pools is squared off with wide steps leading down into the water and has faucets for bringing in cooler water from a rain-catching cistern. Primarily used for laundry, there's an almost constant film of suds along its surface until the circulating current clears it at the end of the day. Four sinks line the nearest wall and various tubs stored beneath allow for the washing of delicates. Laundry bags can be dropped off in the bins near the door and clean, folded laundry is stacked in rows of tall cubbies for easy pickup. The bend in the cavern leads to a rougher-hewn part of the chamber where the two circular bathing pools welcome those in need of a wash. Towels and washcloths are kept in neat stacks on shelves along the wall, along with sacks of sweetsand and a few bars of precious soap. Stone benches provide a place for sitting to remove shoes and clothing, while a row of gleaming brass hooks stand above, ready to hold clothes and robes.
What does I'zech do at night? Well, whatever it was he got up to after his shift in the barracks ended and he disappeared from the Weyr altogether, now he's looking like maybe it involved some rolling around in dirt somewhere. He's not muddy or anything, just smudged all over. And as he walks into the baths, the weyrlings have a half-second where he's pulling his shirt over his head during which they could... probably not move all that much. And so off comes the shirt, ink on display (rather nicely balanced and cohesive, the random collection of things) and then his eyes fall on two people who look rather intimate. As if the fashion in the baths, you don't stare, you know? So he averts his eyes, if only after taking a second to appreciate that bare female back. It's another beat, with him heading toward a bench to set his clean clothes down, before his recognition starts to equate that brief-ish glance with the face of one of his weyrlings. And then he stops and looks directly at the pair, expression bland and eyes dark. Not that's really any different from usual. But now he's staring. K'zin was going for that kiss. But then that sound? The sound of someone else occupying this space? It's his dragon that delivers the news that he's in what appears to be a very compromising and potentially rule-breaking position, you know, with a naked girl on his lap. Shock touches K'zin's face but there's something about an obnoxious and overpowering bronze in one's head that prompts the man to action. What are his options? How close are the footsteps? Does he have time to unceremoniously dump Telavi back into the water from which he got her? He probably does, but wisdom (Rasavyth) tells him that's not the right answer in this exact moment. It would only make things more painful in the long term. Her ego's probably been through enough without adding the trauma of being a catch thrown back for a second time tonight. His eyes find I'zech from behind a handful of brown locks that aren't enough to shadow his face and keep it from being recognized. K'zin's gaze abruptly flicks to Telavi with a silent, 'do you think he saw us?' expression. Then back to I'zech who's now looking directly at them, and then back to Tela: 'Fuck.' Caught. Telavi is not looking at I'zech. Telavi is not looking at K'zin. Telavi is not looking at anyone, because then they could look at her, and if she can't see them, surely they can't see her. It's a good thing that K'zin hadn't tried to toss her down, because that arm curved about his neck, it's tightened. She's also ducked her head, the better to keep her features obscured, but that does a lot less to potentially cut off his air supply. Nothing to see here, move along. But she's nowhere near relaxed, even her toes clenched in their curl. Yeah, go ahead and stay really still. I'zech is ready for whatever move they make, still watching, still staring. He does get to dropping off his clean clothes, his worn shirt, and then he continues on to approach them. Whether or not he actually recognizes Telavi remains to be seen, but he has definitely made a clear identification of K'zin. He says nothing. Yet. And Rojeth reaches out to Rasavyth, the creeping fog quietly looking for the weyrling dragon's location, the state of him. Rasavyth, at least thus far, is never hard to find. His mind is like a little glowing oozy beacon of friendliness. True, tonight the beacon seems to be a little dimmer, but if Rojeth was within the Weyr a few hours earlier, he'd have heard the angered and distressed touch of Cailluneth to all the dragons in the Weyr, and Rasavyth's annoyed, just-roused-from-sleep-to-find-his-weyrling-in-perceived-danger response. And if he's oblivious to those happenings, there is a little sensation of the residual annoyance and certainly a defined protectiveness mingled with thoughts focused on K'zin. He is curled up in the bowl, outside the entrance to the inner caverns, the closest he can get to the bathing pools. His state of mind is friendly, as ever, and inviting. If he's bothered by something, there's no sign of it. K'zin is certainly bothered by something. Thankfully, the act of being caught has certain helpful effects that, while not instantaneous, will help make this whole thing a little less awkward. "Tela, you should go back in the water." He murmurs quietly, and makes move to gently try to ease her that way (if she's helping). He didn't bring the other towels and didn't register their nearness, but surely the water provides a slight degree of protection from the observant if not prying eyes of I'zech. If she moves, he's prepared to fold his hands in his lap, more or less hiding any remaining issues from sight. The closer it sounds like I'zech is getting, the more Telavi tenses up until she might as well be an ice cube. And when K'zin actually says her name, through gritted teeth she hisses about as quietly, "Shhh. That's not going to help." She does move, but slowly, and only to wrap her free arm about her drawn-up knees to keep herself even further in place. It's harder to hiss without esses, but there's that same tonality to, "Do you have a towel." One that he's not sitting on, ideally, because fetching that would be even more awkward. K'zin and... Telavi? Now Rojeth seeks out Solith, that same silent fog looking for the breezy little green, once again seeking her location, whether she's awake or asleep, calm or agitated. Well, maybe she wouldn't be so calm now anyway, not if this really is Telavi balling up her naked self. I'zech rolls his eyes, coming to a stop at the side of the pool, looking down at the two of them. He lets out a long-suffering sigh. Weary, annoyed: "What the fuck?" Oh, right. Because I'zech is going to be conveniently struck blind, mute, and dumb and they're going to get away with this! This, that isn't even anything but just looks like it is! The ridiculous quotient soars in K'zin's mind as Tela hisses and speaks. He makes an exasperated, disbelieving noise that he couldn't help in response, eyes now searching and finding that there are towels there. His arms are still loosely circled around Tela to keep her from sliding off his lap. One arm moves while the other stays to steady her as he has to leeeean to grab up a towel, and shake it one handedly to get it into something he can offer her to cover up with. Once it's awkwardly wrapped over one of Tela's shoulders, K'zin turns his blushing face toward I'zech. "No, far from fuck." That doesn't really answer the question. "And this is my fault." That's said in a tone that somehow seems to echo I'zech's, tired and none-too-pleased with himself. Solith had been asleep. Now she's starting to wisp up out of slumber and.. where is she? She isn't sure yet, but she's looking around, and it's more or less dark and there's a lot of stone and she doesn't smell her clutchmates or hear their snores, so that's what she provides for Rojeth. Oh, and the lake's over there, see? and maybe he can recognize the angle as fitting that of their mentors' ledge, and actually she senses the presence of the old green at her back, and she's liable to provide more and more information out of her confusion if he's not careful, and while she's not yet upset as such, she's starting to realize and not just sense that something isn't right. As for Telavi, she's pulling the towel even further over herself like a snail's shell, clutching it to her torso really, and from that concealment awkwardly unfolds bared legs so that soon she'll be able to slide free. It's not that she's not weyrbred, but at least one of them isn't that or close enough, and further, she doesn't always want to be available for display. She's not hissing now, but neither is she happy. "He keeps saying that. Tell him that no, he doesn't get to do that." "Oh, by all means, give the girl a towel," I'zech drolls roughly with the wave of his hand at all this careful modesty. He really hasn't spent much time eyeballing Telavi's back since he figured out who she was, not that she'd know either way. Not that it's unreasonable to want to cover up -- being naked is one thing, being naked while being yelled at, well... Anyway. When the two of them start speaking, he lets out a snort. Gaze narrowed at them, dark and hard; it's probably difficult to tell if he's just irritated or actually pissed. "Do you think I give a shit which one of you did the sweet talking? Whose hands have been where? Shit. Get up and put your damn clothes on." He stoops, reaching out to take Telavi by the arm in an attempt to haul her out of K'zin's lap. "Hey!" K'zin's protest rings too loud in the overly quiet, empty cavern, echoing on the curves and flat stretches of the ceiling above. His arm comes up to try to block I'zech's reach for Telavi's arm. It's not aggressive, but protective. "Don't touch her." He's not yelling, far from it. His baritone delivers the words calmly, but seriously. For whatever reason, despite the fact that I'zech is technically one of their teachers, the bronze weyrling finds the idea of someone touching Tela in her vulnerable state without her permission highly objectionable. When Telavi's already working on managing her balance and her towel and her tone, that quick snatch of I'zech's starting to haul her to her feet faster and at a different angle than she'd planned doesn't exactly help. Of course, neither does having the process being disrupted partway along, and her tone's definitely what slips first. "K'zin! It's fine." She'd stopped actually being clamped around his neck when the older rider had first started talking, and now she seeks to push off his shoulder, past his guarding arm and up. But it's no less awkward, especially on the damp, slippery surface of the baths, and if they keep this up, her balance is pretty quickly going to be the next thing to go. With boots on the slippery stone, I'zech is relatively sturdy, his grip isn't exactly gentle either -- not unnecessarily rude, but there's no nonsense in it. And so he keeps a steady hold of Telavi as she gets to her feet and finds her balance, but she's not the one he's looking at. The weyrlingmaster is glaring down at K'zin, a spark of cold hate behind his eyes, a sneer tugging at his lip that might, for a second, make his capture of the greenrider appear downright menacing. But he releases the girl as soon as she's stable, leaving her to deal with her towel and presumably her clothes. "Get your asses back to the fucking barracks." Telavi's words are enough to take whatever protective instinct was leading K'zin to go right back out of him and his hand drops down to his side. His own rise is with greater grace, sliding back first and then pushing up, snatching up the small bucket of mostly melted ice and water. The bruises on his torso show now that they're no longer blocked by Telavi's body. His expression hardens. Maybe the bruises make him look a little bad-ass. Or maybe they just make him look like he's used to getting worked over, whether physically or otherwise. "Yeah. You know what, this is the perfect end to this day." Like he hadn't thought about it before, too cheerful and touched with sarcasm. He turns and makes for the cubbies to retrieve the rest of his own clothes, expression clearly displeased but not betraying any other specific emotions. To Rasavyth, K'zin projects, « Fuck this. » K'zin's abrupt and angry dismissal of the situation meets with confusion from Rasavyth. Rasavyth seldom doesn't understand his rider's -- well, everything. But in this moment, he does not and seeks clarification. « Come again? » He questions. (Rasavyth to K'zin) « This is not fucking worth it. Kiss people, don't kiss people, be a good person, don't be a good person. Turn people down for Faranth-be-damned blowjobs! What the fuck does any of it matter for when it all that comes of it is the next load of shit to get dumped on you?! » Rasavyth's calming touch and the internal outlet of being heard by someone else, someone who cares, someone who even agrees (with some anyway, but there's no need to pick over the details now), are the only things helping K'zin keep an calm exterior, choosing to implode instead. (K'zin to Rasavyth) To K'zin, Rasavyth's listens, his attention given over to K'zin completely in this moment. He allows his ooze to comfort and calm and help shape the situation that is developing, and when K'zin has finished, his words come slowly, softly, « You have, no doubt, heard the phrase 'shit rolls downhill'? » To Rasavyth, K'zin is hit with a new wave of annoyance but it's quelled by a sensation shared from Rasavyth: 'Bear with me.' « Yeah? » He manages, though the mental delivery comes with chill. « So we deal with the shit... until we are at the top of the hill. » Rasavyth doesn't have to say it aloud now, the idea has been planted since their bonding and nurtured carefully by the bronze. Now, the first evidence of its rooting nudges through the topsoil of K'zin's mind as though it had always been there, waiting for the right conditions to coax it along. The idea? It whispers and cold chills run up K'zin's spine. Did he think K'del had to listen to all these rules when he was at the top? Some, surely, because though he might be top of the Weyr, he was not top of the world... but they could be. Rasavyth and K'zin, together. The idea roots further, anything is possible if they work together. (Rasavyth to K'zin) Telavi doesn't stick around any longer than she actually has to, because yes, clothes. Nor is she being any too careful about making sure she has all of hers and that they're just hers as she puts them on, and that too-large shirt has to be someone else's but she'll just cope. Quick kicks get her sandals on her feet. A flicker of a pained glance tracks her fellow weyrling once she's turned back but then, "What are you going to do? Sir?" I'zech. Her voice is swallowing that quaver right down. "Yeah, you have such huge problems," I'zech snarks back, utterly unimpressed with K'zin's firmed-up expression. He narrows his eyes, scrunches his nose -- a snotty expression to go right along with his remark, even if that sharp loathing is still there in his gaze. It dulls, however, when he turns back to Telavi, "I'm going to take a bath. And then I guess," a disgusted sigh, "I have to swing by the barracks and make sure the two of you have found your beds. Your own beds." He turns to stalk back to the bench, so he can start toeing his feet out of his boots and unfastening his belt, his back to the weyrlings, at least for the moment. Who wants to put money on him being shy? "What the shell do you know about it?" K'zin's irritation breaks his calm exterior. "It's not like you bother to get to know any of us. It's not like you actually give a damn." So why should he? He should have just let it go. It probably would be better. But maybe I'zech will prove him right and everything will be fine. Who knows. Clearly K'zin doesn't care as he shoves first one foot into his boot and then the next. That relief that had visibly crossed Tela's face, had turned into an exhale thorough enough to have loosened at least a quarter of the tension from her shoulders? That's all gone now. She stops picking her way towards the exit, though she stays on that side of it from the men, and while she'd interceded earlier she doesn't now. Not even as a warning. What she does do is crouch, picking up one of those few and far-between glowbaskets before she straightens. "Keep talking," I'zech replies to K'zin without looking back. "I'll let you know if you stop sounding like a whiny little shit." He kicks his boots aside and drops trou, leaving everything in a pile as he heads to the water. For the record, the dirty smudges are pretty much all over. Go ahead and make assumptions. He slips a glance toward Telavi as she's taking her totally inconspicuous time with her escape -- yeah, he knows she's still there. He's still looking at her when he submerges himself. When he comes up again, neither of them get his attention as he's wiping water from his face. "Why waste my breath?" K'zin's question is rhetorical, as he's throwing his shirt over his head and retrieving the bucket and towel from where they were left on the floor next to where his boots were. The question might be strictly a response to I'zech's words, or linked to his earlier ones. He's striding toward the exit then, glancing only briefly at Telavi, not bothering to grab a glow of his own. Each of them in turn catches her looking between them, and not happily, and also not lingering for long. Tela stays silent, finally back into motion just in time to precede K'zin, that glowbasket of hers now only a light and not a prospective missile as she disappears into the drier, cooler, and at least currently less argument-filled air of the outer caverns. I'zech doesn't say a thing. He appears to be... just taking a bath. Ignoring them. But then, that's what they expect, isn't it? At least he's sinking to sit against the side and soak for a bit, so they have some time to get back to the barracks and tucked in before he's by to check on them. K'zin doesn't have any intention of catching up with Telavi as he follows her at a short distance out of the bathing pools, his frame is tensed which makes his gait a little odder than usual. The exit he's heading for is the one Rasavyth is closest to, through the inner caverns, fingers curled around the small handle, two fingers pinching the towel between them. But only just past the doorway, Telavi had slipped aside to wait, and now matches strides so as to reach for K'zin's arm: not to stay him, but to not run off, either. It's not a vise-grip, and she doesn't say anything right off, not even his name. K'zin wasn't expecting it, so initially there's a pull as someone latches onto his arm. Then it's registered that that someone is Telavi. He doesn't relax, but he doesn't continue to pull beyond that initial moment of surprise. He says nothing, expression blank (surely purposefully). So Tela loops her hand around his arm, and they walk like that, her basket and his bucket both with a shallow swing. She gives him that silence for a little while. They don't encounter many passersby, but those they do get a nod in acknowledgment, nothing more, no furtiveness, because clearly they have permission. But the Bowl isn't as far as all that, and so, while there's some distance to go, "K'zin." "Telavi." K'zin's baritone comes not missing a single beat after she's said his name. He glances briefly over to her. His face has ceased to be blank, but now it's unreadable, so that's not much better. Maybe he just doesn't have anything to volunteer. "Hey," she says. Then, "When was the last time you ate something?" "Dinner." The answer is simple, so he doesn't make it more complicated than it needs to be. Hours ago. There's the nighthearth up ahead, and she's starting to veer across the tunnel towards it. It's not like it's just before the midway meal, where she'd be taking their lives in her hands to do it. "Can grab a bite, for on the way." If she was fishing for some sign of how he's faring, this surely is it: "I'm not hungry." It's delivered slowly, though not unkindly. "If you're hungry though...?" K'zin allows a moment or so later, the implied meaning through his tone and look down to her that he would stop and wait for her if she wanted to eat. A little less fishing, a little more thought to preemptive should-have-been-helping, but it's a sign she can read all too well all the same. "Just a meatroll or something," Tela says, with an sideways glance at him between her braids, and not one word about berries at all. It's so rare that she doesn't have her hair pinned up, contained, concealed, unable to conceal. "If you're hungry," K'zin agrees, slowing his step as they near the nighthearth and its tray of goodies. "We shouldn't dally too long." He doesn't feel the need to say aloud the reason why, but at least in the word 'dally' some of his frustration leaks, just enough to get a glimpse. "Not long," Tela says simply, one syllable shy of not too long. It's an easy movement to sip the basket handle into the crook of her arm for ease in meatroll-collection, letting her other hand slip free of his arm only just long enough to go there and back, to take even less time. When she returns it's with two rather than one wrapped in a napkin, though, noting, "In case you change your mind." There's little enough delay before, "What's going on? I can imagine lots of things, but which... most." "It's a nice thought." K'zin murmurs, but his expression tells that he thinks that's unlikely. His attention isn't really on the here and now. It's like he's going through known motions, while most of his focus is somewhere or manywheres else, unlike other times though, this distraction lacks the kinds of clues that might lead someone to suspect dragon involvement. His brows furrow slightly as her question forces him to re-focus. His shoulders are starting to droop in a weary way. It's not a sleepy way, but it's vaguely reminiscent to some of the oldest uncles and aunties who haunt these very caverns, waiting for their turn to kick the bucket. World-weary. "I'm just tired." He says softly. It's probably a half-truth. "It's been a long and-- well-- pretty crappy day." That's definitely truth. A glance to her face tries to ascertain if she took offense by him saying it aloud. Telavi's been eating her meatroll as he talks, as he takes the time he has to take, and now she lets him be for a few steps: not from offense, but so she can rearrange things and, unless he objects along the way, take liberties. The remaining 'roll in its napkin, she'd stash in his pants pocket, and afterwards she'd reach up not for his near arm but for his opposite shoulder, there where his shoulder isn't as straight or as strong as it's wont to be. She might stroke the worn muscles there, just a touch. "It has that," she agrees finally. And though her gut reaction could be wrong, "I... don't think anything will come of that, with I'zech, but... that's just on top of everything else, isn't it." Something in K'zin's face as she makes move to tuck away the meatroll says he was about to protest, but something stops him and he simply nods. "Thanks." His lips twitch, trying to frown as she talks about I'zech. "Icing on the cupcake." He agrees. He certainly doesn't stop her from stroking his opposite shoulder, but there's also not much in the way of anything encouraging for her either. "I hope nothing does." He says quietly, "For your sake." He sighs, "I'm sorry I got us into that position. I shouldn't've pulled you out of the water." A blush touches his cheeks now, so at least that's a sign that the real K'zin is living in there somewhere. "Look," Tela begins, and then ends. She keeps walking a few more steps like that without more comment than a faint smile for his blush, but her dimples aren't anywhere near in evidence. "Don't beat yourself up over it, not even a little bit. I could have done without him... like that... but if he does say anything, I'll tell Quinlys that she can examine me from head to toe, and she won't find a thing. If that's what you mean." "No. I mean, I put you in a compromising position, and I shouldn't have." K'zin responds, his tone surprisingly matter-of-fact, but maybe it's because there's been so much to be emotional about in this day, that he's got nothing left. "And it had gone all wrong before that," Nevermind that they were maybe starting to get back on track when I'zech found them. "And then before that, and then before that. It's just been a long, crappy day." He reiterates. "I'm sure things will look better in the morning." He grimaces for that. In the morning, when he's short on sleep and nerves. What a fun day that will be! "You could have come into the water too, and that would have been just fine," Telavi says consideringly, and if that alternative misses his point, it's voicing hers. She sighs. "In the morning." What's left of it. "I think it might help to try the meatroll, even if you don't much feel like it, and some water or something, but I'm not going to tell you you should." She glances up at him. "At least we don't have hangovers, right?" Any more than this is one already. "I could have," He acknowledges, again matter-of-fact. "Maybe I should have." His tone and the shrug that accompany it say he really, and truly has no clue what the right answer would of/should of been. K'zin's lips pull into a brief, small, but reassuring smile. "I'm sure I'll be hungry for breakfast. I just don't think I'd keep much of anything down right now." His eyebrows furrow, "Gut punches have a way of unsettling everything." Both the literal and the figurative. Then a breath is taken and held before he stops, using the arm wrapped around his to compel her to do so as well. They're only steps away from the bowl now, "Are you okay, Telavi?" His eyes show his concern, thoughtful enough even with all of this craziness in this day to want to check on her. The tilt of her head reflects that maybe with simplicity, that path not swum, without any assurances or reassurances one way or the other. Just that it's there. Was there. Will be there. They've gone on. By contrast, there's actual surprise, unexpected relief for his logic, "That makes sense," Telavi agrees, whether it's in recognition of the figurative or just the literal punch. "You always eat and... yes." But for the rest, K'zin can compel her to stop, but not to look up, particularly when she takes a step closer and tucks her arm around her back. "I think so. I'm just... tired." Maybe she could lean her forehead against his chest for a moment before straightening. "Rasavyth's out there," she says then, not quite a question, and unusually, it's nothing she can see yet with her own eyes. "You do want to walk back with him?" If it were another day, another time, if the day hadn't taken so much willpower and fight from him already, he'd probably try to make her look up. But it is now, today. So he just nods. "Alright." He'll accept that she's just tired; he probably couldn't handle anything more emotionally deep than that just now. "He is." He confirms, even though it isn't a question. "He'll be walking back with me," K'zin's turning again and moving toward the bowl, "But I can walk with you, if you like. Unless you'd like to be alone with your thoughts?" There are few seventeen turn olds who can pull off an offer like that without sounding pretentious, but he does. It is without double-speak or meaning. It's just a question, and at this point it doesn't sound like it matters much either way. His company is hers but for the asking. He's made her look up once already, after all. And as much as Telavi's one to play around with words and more than words, usually when she's facetious it's transparent, and there's a lot to be said for taking someone at their word. "Good," she says for all three of those, though it's not, quite, asking. And so she'll leave the glowbasket in the cavern and walk back with them, for all that it's moonset and dark. The dragons can see. Solith's there, sometimes, and sometimes she glides further along the path only to wait for them to catch up all over again. They'll get there. They'll be there, when I'zech checks again. While Telavi and Solith may be found at rest where I'zech expects. K'zin is not in his own bed. He's not in Tela's either, though. He's in Rasavyth's couch, pillow and blanket stolen from his cot, and cushioned by supple burnt cinnibar hide. And if I'zech should care enough to make a fuss about K'zin's choice of bed partner, he'll have a doubly disgruntled dragon twice-woken by unpleasantness to deal with. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:Boots of... doom?"Eliv (Eliv (talk)) left a comment on Sun, 28 Apr 2013 21:45:49 GMT.
I love I'zech's no-nonsense in dealing with catching two weyrlings pretty blatantly breaking rules, and K'zin's strange reaction to it. This weyrling class is definitely an 'interesting' mix of personalities and things.
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Sun, 28 Apr 2013 22:31:25 GMT.
*winces* What a... perfect way to end a 'perfect' day. Poor K'zin. Poor Telavi. ...Poor I'zech for having to actually do his job and deal with weyrlings. *grins* But I agree, and I really like how he handled the situation. It was so... him. XD
Aishani (Brieli (talk)) left a comment on Mon, 29 Apr 2013 03:50:48 GMT.
Poor nobody! You get caught, that's what happens... ;)
Definitely interesting though.
Alida (Alida (talk)) left a comment on Mon, 29 Apr 2013 09:55:22 GMT.
I wonder how Quin would've handled this. ^^ I think I'zech let them off pretty easy.
Leave A Comment