Logs:Clingy and Leaving
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| RL Date: 26 November, 2014 |
| Who: Tayte, Z'riah |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After awkward time with X'vae, proddy Z'riah runs into Tayte. |
| Where: Living Cavern and Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 19, Month 5, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: H'vier/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated. |
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| Breakfast involved a lot of poking at his food without much interest and now that Z'riah is left to his own devices in the living cavern, he's mostly staring at the table in front of him instead of the people milling about around him. He has a mug of klah in his hands, fresh enough to still be warm and he even manages to take a drink now and then. Right now his brows are furrowed, like he's very deep in thoughts that aren't sitting particularly well. It's a busy day. They've all been busy days since the note arrived. Tayte is moving with purpose from the direction of the inner caverns, the children safely deposited with the nannies, but even women with purpose need to eat. The blonde moves to the buffet table and pulls a plate and sets about putting a smattering of things on it for herself. Z'riah sighs at the table and his gaze shifts away from it, down into his mug. After a brief swirl, he glances toward the buffet like something there might finally be appetizing. But he sees Tayte instead. Not that she's unappetizing. In fact, the greenrider is staring at her now and he probably doesn't realize it. Tayte doesn't look about until she's got her food, but when she does, her eyes end up meeting Z'riah's in the process of her seat-finding. A smile blossoms on her lips, warm and pleased. Her course is set and she is shortly slipping onto the bench next to him. "You don't mind, do you?" She asks without any actual concern that he will. She glances to his plate. "Food not very good today?" she hazards with a then-dubious look at her own plate. His smile is hesitant, like Z'riah isn't really sure he wants to acknowledge her because she might just move along if he doesn't. But he does. "Don't mind. Food's fine. Not really hungry." He glances at her plate, then at his own, which has been picked over but is mostly just cold now. Tayte's brows draw down in more genuine concern and she reaches a hand to touch his thigh lightly, "You okay, Zif?" Her food (and likely her purpose beyond that), momentarily forgotten. "I'm fine," he says quickly, like saying it without hesitating will make up for whatever he did to make her ask in the first place. The hand that touches his thigh makes Z'riah shift, but not to the point where he tries to get rid of the contact. "Yizibeth is..." he makes any airy gesture that's probably supposed to mean something. "Sorry?" Tayte doesn't understand. She's not a rider. Why would she? She seems genuinely apologetic that she doesn't follow though, and the way he shifts has her gingerly letting her hand slip away, heading up to above the table where he can see it go for her glass of juice. "Sorry. Proddy," Z'riah says more plainly. His hand lowers back to his mug. But then he decides to set it down on the table so he can lean forward onto his elbows instead. "Are you up to anything today?" "Ohhh," Tayte exhales, understanding. "I-- don't-- it's different for everyone, right?" She's not a rider. She just lives near them. For a moment, she probably reflects on the greenriders she's known here, and at Ista. "Do you need anything?" She thinks to ask as she lifts her glass to her lips. "I--" but then she drinks instead. Maybe the answer is forthcoming. "Seems that way." About it being different for everyone. Z'riah makes a face that he probably doesn't realize he's making when she asks if he needs anything. He does. He just might not know what, exactly, or be willing to say. "Want to go for a walk?" Tayte offers quietly, concern still touching her pretty features. Who needs breakfast? "No." It's not very convincing. Even he seems to realize that, so he adds, "No, you should eat. I'm fine. Really. She's been doing this for turns. Couple days and everything will be back to normal." And that makes Z'riah frown, gaze shifting toward one of the cavern's exits for a moment. "After you've eaten, maybe?" For the walk. Tayte considers him a moment before she swallows down her juice like it was something harder and then she's sliding off the bench saying, "Come on," before she's lifting a buttered roll into her mouth and snagging up a second into her hand along with a little wedge of hard cheese which frees her other hand to grab his hand and pull encouragingly toward the bowl, only stopping long enough to snag up her short raspberry cloak from a hook on the wall by the exit before they're heading into the spring air. Z'riah glances at her food with a grimace. She's supposed to eat that. But taking his hand distracts him from this detail and, if she doesn't pull it away shortly after, he's liable to enforce it with his own hand in a way that definitely suggests he doesn't want her to let go. He'll probably let her put on her cloak, though. She doesn't. She was an apprentice once, so swallowing down rolls takes almost no time at all and she barely needs to slip her hand free of his to put it through the cloak's arm-hole before it's right back to where it was and tugging him along. "Now, tell me what you need." Because she knows there's something. Her tone is kindly, but no-nonsense. Her fingers lace with his comfortably. The greenrider follows along like a little lost puppy, apparently more contented to have even this much contact with the blonde. "This, mostly," says Z'riah like that's totally helpful information for her. "Being with someone." "Oh," Tayte's brows knit. "I'm--" She glances skyward and then back to him. "I'm packing up, actually. Today. And tomorrow." Her look is apologetic. "I got recalled to my craft and I'm moving." Because that's just what a proddy 'stay-here-with-me' greenrider needs to hear, right? Z'riah stops as he turns those big blue eyes onto Tayte and he stares at her like she's started speaking some foreign language that he doesn't understand even a little bit. "You're leaving?" Okay, so he understands a little bit. Otherwise he wouldn't sound a little heartbroken when he asks that question, probably. "Yes," Tayte answers, stopping herself and turning so she can look at him. The look on his face has her raising a hand to touch his cheek. "You can still visit, Zif. I'll just be a little further. But with better booze." The last is an attempt to cheer him. "That's the great thing about dragons, right? Easy travel?" When Tayte touches his cheek, Z'riah lifts a hand to try to keep it there for at least a few moments. But then he thinks it's probably just a better idea to hug her, so hopefully she's down with awkwardly extended embraces. "I'll come visit if you want me to. I don't want to say goodbye to one of my only friends here, already." Certainly not in his current state. Tayte... She's understandably taken by surprise since PDA with men that aren't her jealous baby daddy is generally inadvisable, but she wraps her arms gently around him and pulls him tight to her. "Of course, Zif." Good sex with no other strings? What's not to like? "I do have to pack today, but if you wanted to come by tomorrow mid-morning, it should be a good time. We can talk or sit or--" have good sex. She's flexible. Z'riah lingers there against Tayte, tucking his head in against her before he sighs out a slow breath and nods. "Depending on Yizi. I'd like that." He'll even let the poor woman go, eventually. Right around when she starts moving like she wants him to. Tayte is patient. She does keep her eyes open for certain possessive bronzeriders with temper who might not be so keen on lingering hugs in the middle of the bowl, but fortunately for both of them, he doesn't magically materialize to break Z'riah's pretty face. "Okay. I'm sure I'll hear if she does go up. The vintner leans up to brush a quick kiss to the greenrider's lips. "I'll see you then if not." She smiles before slipping away, heading for her room in the craft complex. |
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