Logs:Close Comfort and Close Combat
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| RL Date: 31 July, 2015 |
| Who: Dee, Ka'ge, Taeliyth, Zymadiath |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Dee and Ka'ge partner for self-defense practice. |
| Where: Southern Bowl, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 6, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Y'tob/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. |
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>---< Southern Bowl, Fort Weyr(#675RJLs$) >----------------------------------< This end of the Bowl is grassy and serene, the sparkling blue beyond the Lake Shore a draw for residents, riders, and dragons alike. An earthslide has revealed a dramatic view of the mountain slopes beyond the circle of the Weyr, past the lake, where a faint misty haze often shimmers above the small Bowl Falls. The Feeding Grounds are fenced off to on the northeastern end of the lake, just a short walk from the weyrling barracks, the hot springs, and infirmary. It's early summer morning, before Rukbat is high enough to reach down into the bowl and yet still colors the sky. This morning, the colors are vibrant, a pleasant breeze beginning to hint at how it may cool the warmer portion of the later-hours. Most weyrlings have finished their morning feedings and begin to prepare the rest of the day. This morning, physical training consists of the new implementation of the month: self defense. The basics, ultimately, but with blocks, slow-walked take-downs and ground work. With surely very cautious eyes, there'd be no black eyes, not even a jammed pinky finger if their monitors can catch it. But regardless of precautions, this is an activity that requires close and sustained personal contact. That isn't, however, what's on Ka'ge's mind as he appears from somewhere that isn't the direction of his cot. It's likely that morning lessons are the farthest thing from his thoughts by the manner at which he strides. Directed, intentional steps are a pace or two faster than his more typical lazy gait. He arrives from the complex and directed steps take him to the young goldrider's cot, now so far from his own. Most weyrlings had already poured out into the bowl as he moves past them side-stepping a few chattering pairs not paying attention to the one going against the flow. His hood is down, blue-green eyes searching down the line to find Dee. His expression is set, particularly neutral, controlled, despite the semi-impatience the rest of him threatens to display. There are a number of reasons that Dee has been holding herself more separate from her fellow weyrlings this month, not the least of which is the advent of goldrider training added to her schedule. It means that Dee and Taeliyth are often some of the last to arrive (though still on time, if only barely). Dee hasn't hurried in lacing her boots and is only just rising, Taeliyth stretching in her wallow before starting to pull herself out of the depression. The final lace is tied and she's pressing hands to thighs as she rises from her cot, running a hand through her hair before stepping into the aisle to head in the same direction the others have gone before. She isn't expecting Ka'ge's journey deep into the barracks where her space is located now, that much is clear from the careless way she's proceeding toward the lesson at hand. Zymadiath is already in the bowl. Ever since the young dragons had begun gliding and he found out how much more he could see by taking up a perch on unclaimed lower ledges, they've been his preferred spots by far. To watch, to observe, to see everything. Not to mention how much easier air is compared to stalking across the ground with such large wings to manage. A relief for him. Another source of headache for his rider. That particular weyrling bronzerider who is anything but predictable this morning. As Dee rises and starts perhaps a step or two into heading towards their lesson, Ka'ge takes a step into her immediate path, and without any word or warning, wraps his arms around her tightly. Not suffocatingly so, but quite close to it. Even though his expression with his eyes closed and stressed lines accenting his face, if she can see it, is somewhat cold, this isn't. And he doesn't say anything either, as if he'd keep her there without a reason until she told him off or, more likely, an assistant weyrlingmaster came through. "Kael?" is surprised when Dee recovers enough to speak, her arms reaching without that same pause to reflexively answer the embrace; she's a hugger, it's what huggers do when they're hugged. "Are you...?" Alright? Insane? Something, certainly, she trails off the question without an adjective to express what she means, but there is a touch of concern in her voice; it's not every day that he walks up to her at the end of the barracks and hugs her. Ka'ge's chest heaves with a heavy sigh. A few beats in, his arms relax enough to allow her movement. His verbal response would take significantly longer than that, especially since he's slow to draw his head away from her and open his eyes again. "I'm fine." The words come reluctantly and seem to be the catalyst for a forced recovery. His lie is not believable in neither tone nor based off the action it followed. "Do you need a partner this morning?" Comes with a slow-to-manifest and faint smile. The question itself still has strain to it, similar to whatever was in his expression before, and seems to be more of a request than an innocent question. As is often the case, Dee doesn't challenge him at the moment she might be expected to. She looks at him in a way that is too knowing that he's lying, but she lets him keep the lie, nodding her acceptance of it. There's tension in her frame that might be keeping herself from resuming their previous positions. His question seems to surprise her and she glances toward the exit from the barracks and then back. "Yes." It's not true, and she'll need a moment to explain to her usual partner when they get to the lesson. "We'd better not be late," she adds, moving to step around him and head on; if they're going to get scolded for being partners, she'd rather not be scolded for being late too. Ka'ge's hug remains firm for some time longer. A needed thing, it says without words. Her glance away is watched with a careful, curious stare, before he releases her completely. His gaze falls to the ground and then to the exit after her comment on potential tardiness, a change of his fierce confidence edging into a moment of reservations. "No." His short, quiet agreement is just that, following her in suit. "..You don't have to." The more familiar tone speaks to her back, the one that's obviously curled with some form of humor, though perhaps this time for once it's aimed at himself. "What, and miss the opportunity to give you a headache?" Dee's voice rises with strained humor, but then so much is strained these days, is it really any more noticeable today than on others? "You know how terrible I am at self-defense, don't you?" The question holds more than the question; has he been watching her? Perhaps stolen glances are the only thing she's caught since that day in the bowl; it's certainly all she's given herself - a glance, a pained or puzzled look, and a glance away. "You do that well, with or without opportunity." The likely expected and harmless-intended first reply from the boy who has his hood off. In fact, he doesn't even have a hood on his attire at all. He, despite the warm weather, is still in long sleeves but it's a much simpler dark grey tunic and black pants that aren't his typical greys. It's more form-fitting, and actually fairly flattering for the muscles he tends to take effort to not reveal he has. As for Ka'ge since their last argument, he's seemed utterly distracted. Most of the time, his expressions had been hard to read, and he's not been heard to give anyone a hard time or crack a wise joke at least a sevenday or two. "Of course." Quieter, but still under the semblance of the smile he has. "Just gives me a chance to help teach you." Read: show off. His blue-green eyes are averted down to the ground behind her, his black spiky hair not quite so disheveled as if it actually saw a brush this morning. He even looks, well, clean which really doesn't seem entirely necessary considering they're about to work on positional wrestling in the dirt. It's when she looks back that her eyes narrow a little as she takes him in, his clothes, his lack of hood and then she looks ahead. Dee holds off any comment until the group warmups have been concluded and they've paired off. Probably, the assistants on duty only let this particular pairing stand because Ka'ge is good at self-defense and Dee typically partners with someone only slightly better than herself; today, she might actually learn something. They are under watchful eye, of course. Still that doesn't stop her attempt at casual when she observes, "Those weren't in your press when we were candidates." It might be admitting her too intimate and illicit knowledge of his wardrobe, but the hearts are hardly a secret between them now. "Just... need a change of pace?" She asks, still trying to sound as though the question is just a question about the clothes. As the warm up ends, which doesn't yet seem to get his respiratory rate up or produce a drop of sweat, he turns to square off with her. Similar to the other pairs who casually break off from the main group, Ka'ge too takes a couple of steps to give them space from their neighbors. His smile to her seems quite sincere, though the mischievous undertones to him are never quite gone. "That is true." He starts, studying her closely with those bright eyes of his. There's nothing about him that seems accusatory about that observation of hers, in fact he appears to be enjoying the thought. "Nah." His expression twists in curious amusement, a hand reaching to touch his bare head with a hint of awkwardness and sense of dramatized loss. "My head's cold." He lies, those fingers scratching his neat-ish hair into more of his typical mess before the hand falls back to his side. "Gotta dress differently depending on whether you want to get away from something, or hold onto it." The vagueness is weightier than just talking about clothes. "You ready for some one on one, mm.." That smile broadens slightly, twists into a more sinister grin, "Tricks?" The instructions are easy enough for the start: review the last lesson's content at each pair's own rate for about ten minutes. "Oh?" is the almost hopeful answer to his 'nah', but she's looking away quickly. "Just seems like it's missing something," Dee murmurs glancing at him before looking at one of the other pairs. "I guess we should start," she agrees, though sounds uncertain. Suddenly, she doesn't know what to do with her hands and so they tuck under her biceps around her chest; it's hardly a pose conducive to what they're expected to begin. She seems to realize that in the next moment and lets them drop down, smoothing her plain work shirt along the way to arriving at her sides. "Guard up." Ka'ge says, drawing his own fists to just below his chin. Not really a guard, but as demonstration, inspiration even. "Missing something?" Added in the in-between, giving her the moment to take a stance, or not. "And then throw a punch at me. I'm sure you can think of a good reason to." A fist uncurls to tap his pointer finger on his nose; the intended target for that punch. Dee's hands rise to the guard position; it's a weak gesture but correct in form. She looks uneasy, as she does every time someone asks her to do any offensive move in these practice sessions. "You don't think so?" is asked of the something missing, brows lifting, letting this be her hesitation in throwing the punch. It comes, without enough power behind it, the movement leading from the arm despite the fact that she makes an attempt to turn her body into it; obviously, she's been instructed about the right way to punch, but it just hasn't stuck. Each move he does is with grace; liquid feline grace, and with an almost gentle grin that doesn't quite fit. Ka'ge takes a step into her as the punch extends, what could be a slight movement to just move his face out of the range of the 'strike' being exaggerated for her sake. "Step one." He seems to have a hard time not being terribly amused as he puts himself right up against her, his left shoulder touching her, his chest towards her punching arm and both hands poised in open handed strikes onto her extended arm, "Get body to body close." That draws the chuckle that was threatening even before he'd move, though it's light since his head is now almost next to hers. "Hands." He wiggles his fingers to draw the attention there, "Biceps." And he hits it a little, just enough that she might be able to feel the twinge of the nerve that's there for the striking. "And forearm." He repeats the same with his further hand. Dee's eyes follow where he wants her attention as they go through the moves. "I'm not sure this is going to work," the girl mutters as a blush touches her cheeks and she shifts in an attempt to reclaim her arm and step back, the opposite hand seeking to rub the spots that sting. "Your turn." Ka'ge moves back when she does, but not too far. "What's not going to work?" He asks, pulling his own guard to his chin. Loosely so, but still his preparation to attack next is made obvious. "What's wrong? This can be.." He pretends to search for a word, but it's clear it's more of an intentional, dramatic pause, "Fun." His use of word is very loose, "Ready?" Isn't really a question so much as a warning as he sends a very slow jab towards her forehead. The girl's movements are clumsy as she tries to mimic what she's just been shown. She manages, just barely, but there's no force behind her movements now either. In a real fist fight, Dee would not be on the winning side. As her movements bring her in as they did him to her before, that's when she explains, "This can be infuriating. I can't think straight when you're this close." She seems vexed by that as she steps back, glancing to the next pair over as if she might ask them to make a trade of partners. "And here I thought you'd lost interest in me." Ka'ge's cocky grin is there to meet her as she withdraws. "Y'tob is looking so good these days, isn't he?" Although he's playful about it, there's something beneath those words that aren't quite as light-hearted as they should be. "Again." Is the instructions that follow, indicating her to throw that punch one more time. "What are you going to do, Dee?" He teases or, more accurately, taunts, "Aren't you supposed to be a tough girl that can hold her own? Need to learn to clock a guy, at the very least." "Y'tob always looks good," Dee mutters, but it's matter-of-fact, if a little disgruntled. "That's part of his Y'tob-ery." She frowns now, "I'm going to just have to ban myself from dating until I'm forty." This is a little bit more of a spoken rather than muttered declaration and the unhappiness that's there might, in fact, be genuine. That might be the answer as to what she's going to do. "Why should I hurt people? I don't have any reason to hurt people," Dee answers the taunt even more unhappily, her mood turning obviously stormy from the pile of one thing and then next and the next. It makes this punch have a little more feeling behind it, but it's still not really aimed to hurt him. Ka'ge repeats those actions, stepping in with his body just as close, his hands in open hand strikes touching those sweet-spots again on her arm if not quite so quick or hard as to actually sting the pressure points again. That open hand nearest her wrist closes around, his other slides up to her shoulder and grabs a handful of her tunic. There's no hiding his smirk as he shifts his weight slightly, the effort meant to pull her weight forward before his booted heel sweeps a leg out from under her from the back. Should this very basic take-down go appropriately, Dee would find herself on her back, but lowered, controlled, rather than dropped. And by the time she's on the ground, he has one knee on either side of her waist, with just enough weight seated on her midsection to keep her there, her wrist still clasped in one of his hands. He'd lower himself then, somewhere within that same motion that really only took seconds until he's in a basic wrestling mount on top of her- chest to chest, his head next to hers with a whispered, "Forty turns seems a little long. Can we make it forty minutes?" He doesn't answer her other question, not yet anyway, more preoccupied with their current status. Dee's breath is caught in surprise as the move takes her easily (oh-so-easily) to the ground. She probably anticipated the hit of back to ground so the fact that she doesn't lose her breath as Ka'ge positions himself atop her means that she has the oxygen to lose when he draws close, in a gasp that's more twitterpated than surprised. "Turns," she insists through gritted teeth, moving to try to shove him off of her. "At this rate, I might make it fifty. You'll lose your interest after one or two, won't you?" This question is like his of Y'tob, something just beneath the surface that isn't as relaxed as it would be if this were only banter. Ka'ge holds that wrestling position, and to her struggling and shoving, he seems a heavy, immovable thing. "Fifty?" Mock-hurt colors his nigh-whispered voice as if he's ready to draw into a pout. Instead, he sits up. Still on top of her, but at least he's not laying on her anymore? And his weight is still controlled, the brunt of it dispersed over his knees. "If I make it look like you win, is there a consolation prize? Like-" And clearly, his rambling is humored, playful, more-so to draw out the time he's keeping her pinned than anything else. "Taking a few turns off that sentence.." A beat, "Or." His grin grows broader, a chuckle dismissing a thought that likely shouldn't be spoken out loud and he soon switches to answering her question, "Hardly." He reaches to take her hands that are busy shoving him into his own, feigning something that should be part of some sort of submission hold but really.. is just holding her hands. "Pretty sure you can count me not so easily deterred by now." "Do I strike you as the kind of girl who likes to look like she's winning?" Particularly when she clearly isn't. Dee arches a single challenging brow at the boy. She probably would, here, now, like to be the sort of girl who could turn the tables and win, but if she were, she wouldn't be Dee, so she struggles on - ever willing to take on the impossible challenges that come to her. "What kind of consolation prize would satisfy you?" She turns her head, expression briefly betraying a pain that goes deeper than the here and now banter but that's swiftly suppressed as well as she's able (which is to say it haunts the back of her hazel gaze when she looks back to him). "I never know with you. Hot and cold. And do you even know me?" She sounds uncertain. Taeliyth's wings shift in her own stretching exercises, but her attention is on the pair on the ground. « Someone's going to notice if he doesn't get off of her soon, » she offers the warning to Zymadiath who must already know, but perhaps it needs to be said aloud between them for the suggestion that he ought to make sure Ka'ge hasn't forgotten to also be expressed in her watchful silence. "You strike me as the kind of girl who would try." Ka'ge watches her expression for some time, his own almost warm with gently narrowed eyes and kind lines distracting from the frighteningly hardened depths to him. Though, the kindness is perhaps tweaked quite a bit by the teasing manner at which he continues to provoke her. "Do I get to choose? Because I have ideas." His typical breathy, quiet chuckle takes the place of actually giving her an answer. As the questions get a little deeper than playful, there's a short silence that serves as the initial reply while he does actually adjust to get off of her. But it seems he's only going in flow with the lesson, sitting back on his bottom with legs bent but out in front of him- a certain style of a starting wrestling stance- and considering he makes an unhurried 'come on' sort of waving motion with his hand, he appears to expect her to mirror. "I don't," There's an edge to that that's hard to put a finger on, "but I'd like to." The weyrling bronzerider lays his forearms over his knees as he waits for her, whether to do what he intends her to or not. Although he doesn't comment on being hot and cold, there's a sort of confirmatory adjustment to that smile of his. The young bronze dragon circles overhead, gliding on the breezes of the early morning, his heavy wings giving him an ease to it which never came to him on the ground. There's really no emotion or sensation that the shadows share with the brambles, though his writhing presence isn't entirely absent, « Part of this lesson is close contact. » The darkness reminds without bias, but with its natural smugness. The way Dee sits once he's moved back from her employs her obliques more than the rest of her abs but in the end she's mirroring the way he's sitting. The line of her lips is too straight to be a positive response to his first words and doesn't improve with the next. She meets his eyes with a sober look of honest frustration. "What do you want from me, Ka'ge?" Not Kael. Ka'ge. « He'll need to learn a lesson about appropriate close contact if he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable. » Taeliyth's observation is heavy with suggestion. « She feels exposed. » That last is an offering of enlightenment. There usually isn't much honesty about him, but the drifting confusion that is the response to her words certainly seems to be so. A faltering threatens his arrogant smile, but he manages to keep a ghost of it, even just barely when she calls him by his rider name. Ka'ge drops his blue-green gaze from her, glancing off to the side and lifting a hand to rub what should be the back of a hood but isn't. It demonstrates well his discomfort in being out of his normal. Instead, his fingers just run through his once-tidier-than-normal black hair, leaving a nest of it. "Your time?" The questioning inflection to it lends it more to digging to see if it's the right answer, since nothing else has been. "A little bit of it anyway." Is added as his hand returns to his leg. He doesn't move to continue with the lesson, even though she'd squared off with him as requested, nor does he return eye-contact for some time longer. Instead, he seems to be watching the pair not that far from them, a young blue rider in a guard with his partner wrapped in his legs, with the latter struggling slowly to try to figure his way out of it. Zymadiath can be sensed and seen to land on a uninhabited ledge, turning with overweighted wings still poised, his talons curling over the lip of the edge, « It is the nature of the lesson. All are required to do so. » The gritty, gravelly low voice explains, and there's a considering pause before those shadowy figments give further in response to Taeliyth's enlightenment. « He makes it worse, yes, in choosing her. But he- » The darkness searches for the right words, though the aloofness with which they're said seems utterly unattached, « Desired a means to be touched by her. » "Is that all?" Dee's question is quiet, her eyes taking the measure of his expression. Taeliyth's mind takes in the bronze's words and considers them. « She would like it better were there no eyes watching them. » A pause and then grudgingly adds, « I make her life too much a public display for her liking. » "What else?" Ka'ge looks back to her after his gaze strays across the roaming assistants. Surely he's not so innocent, thus surely there's more, but not to be said now. "Come here," He says to progress the lesson to prevent someone from coming over due to their interim of inactivity. "Hands on my hands, feel where my balance is off or weaker, and get me back into that mount." It's really not so easy as that in a 'real' situation, but it's a good place to start. At least, when he says the word 'mount' it's very routine, professional, and not with the smirk it could have. The shadows of Zymadiath's mind become a little more pronounced in the shared consciousness with the gold, the figments shifting, writhing in that same eerie but steady tempo, « Their restrictions haven't enabled that, to his frustration. This is a means around the rules. » He pushes off the ledge to become airborne again, the shadow of the shadowy bronze passing over the group as he makes his vigilant circles. « And, » The shadows tremble a little bit, ghostly whispered laughter in the distance giving the sense of amusement, « He's screwed up so much lately, teaching her what he's good at is his way of helping her help herself. » « She's terrible at this, » Taeliyth has noticed and it makes the water feeding the roots of her wood brackish and foul. « If he can teach her anything, it will be a miracle, » holds only a touch of sardonic humor, too much truth there for it to be any kind of a joke. Dee proves her dragon's point when she places her hands wrong. Not the subtle something it could have been, but a clumsy gripping that does little for her to succeed in the rest of what he's asking. As to what else, Dee remains silent but her distracted expression shows that what she's thinking and how she's feeling about it is not good. "It's about feeling, Dee." Ka'ge corrects with reserved amusement, "It's not about aggression and beating me senseless." Though, his tone implies, that's a possibility. "Forget about them." That comment likely a consequence from Zymadiath sharing Taeliyth's warning, "And close your eyes." His fingers wrap around her hands enough that she would be persuaded not to let go in the process. He'd squeeze her fingers lightly once, and it comes with an entirely non-believable mischievous little upturn of his lips she could notice if she didn't follow his instructions quickly enough. "Push against my hands, one at a time. Like, mmm... kneading soil, I suppose. Sense my balance, find my weaker arm." He'd over-exaggerate his left arm relenting to her pressure more than his right to make it an obvious thing. "Then push me back." The returned sensations emanating from the depths beyond those shadowy figments are not so displeased. That gravelly low mindvoice continues to be entertained by the subject at hand and the flow of thoughts from his rider's mind, « He will try. But he won't mind if she forgets, as long as she eventually enjoys the moment. » "You knead bread, not soil," Dee objects in a mumble, the faint blush in her cheeks probably more a give-away than anything else that their conversation goes beyond the exercises of the here and now. Still, she does as she's told, letting her eyes flutter shut and pressing against his hands. The sigh that escapes her as she pushes on that weaker arm is frustrated, but the frustration isn't given voice. « She won't enjoy this moment. To will her to do so would be the miracle of miracles. He might as well stick to business and if he wishes to take pleasure from her touch, then that's his business. » There's caution in her tone, though it might not be so much for Zymadiath or even his rider but more in reaction to something else. « She liked the hug. » But that was different than this, that much is plain in the gold's mind. Ka'ge lets his arm give completely, with the intention of making her efforts bring her forwards to put her weight against him. He doesn't miss her mumble, but the generally at-ease and patient demeanor he's got about him throughout all of this isn't persuaded otherwise by it. Rather, it seems to continue his enjoyment of it. He stays silent until she gives her frustrated sigh, "Is it really so bad with me?" In theory, he should be leading her into a wrestling match to put his back to the ground, but he's not making it such a struggle. Rather, right when that 'give' of his arm becomes more of a 'pull' of Dee to bring her on-top of him instead, there's a whistle from the far side of the collected pairs for the end of the session. The pull never really manifests more than a moment's instance of suggestion that he's about to do so, and he sighs with the edge of annoyance betraying it. "Can I interest you in a private lesson?" is inquired then, with no effort to hide the suggestiveness of it in his more typical arrogant tone. Zymadiath's darkened paws hit the ground of the bowl in an overly practiced landing, his stance dropping low almost immediately for further steps to fall in line with his stalking gait as he moves to linger at the edge of the practicing pairs. The night is about as amused as his rider was prior to the lesson's end-call at Taeliyth's thoughts, a sort of pleasantness felt, offered from the vast blackness of his mind. The first question gets only a soulful look from Dee's hazel eyes that betrays some measure of hurt - maybe it is that bad with him. The second question gets a "No," that comes so quickly that it might seem sharp, her cheeks coloring in a way that suggests the word was out before she had a chance to think through what damage it might do. It is perhaps fitting that she's standing as quickly as she can and turning her studious attention toward the directions being given for the next task of the day. Ka'ge doesn't say anything to either of those reactions, though he stands much slower than she does with his gaze lingering on her as she turns away. By the end of it, the grin has melted away into some plain expression, and after brushing off the pants he'd borrowed from somewhere, he turns to walk away without another glance to her. A hand runs through his hair in that silent fretting and discomfort over his absent hood but then he's dissolved somewhere beyond a further group of weyrlings. Zymadiath turns from the group as well, taking a few steps before vaulting back into the sky to continue his rounds. His shadows recede from the gold's mind without further commentary, the darkness somehow feeling darker as it does. |
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