Logs:Curious Conversations
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| RL Date: 24 April, 2013 |
| Who: Madilla, K'zin, Ilicaeth, Rasavyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'zin visits Madilla to give her a belated turnday present. They have a curious conversation. Meanwhile, Ilicaeth strikes up yet another curious conversation with Rasavyth. |
| Where: Weyrhealer's Office, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 9, Month 8, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Warm sunshine and cloudless skies make for a beautiful day and pleasantly warm evening. A breeze tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air. |
| Mentions: Alida/Mentions, Mave/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions, Delifa/Mentions, Leova/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Meara/Mentions, N'ky/Mentions, Sabella/Mentions, Lilabet/Mentions, Dilan/Mentions, Delinda/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: This maybe should've been broken into two logs, but I (K'zin) was tired; if anyone feels strongly, you have my blessing to do so. |
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| Weyrhealer's Office, High Reaches Weyr The Weyrhealer's Office has clearly been recently redecorated; much of the furniture looks quite new. The room has been set out into several different spaces: a desk, with a chair behind it and two set out in front, several bookcases, and then a little sitting area. The hangings on the wall, the rugs, and the fabrics used to cover the chairs all match: a color scheme of purples and reds that aim for warmth and comfort. A kettle hangs above the little hearth that provides warmth to the room, with a small shelf next to it where a collection of teas, as well as mugs and spoons, can be found.
Behind the door, Madilla is in the little sitting area, her legs curled up beneath her, and a stack of reports piled up every which way around her. There's a single moment of pause after the sound of that knock; a pause in which she glances up, hesitates, and gives the door a dubious, weary glance. Abruptly, however, she hides away that look in lieu of a more pleasant one, and says, "Come in!" By the time the door opens? There's no suggestion at all in expression or demeanour to suggest that she's in any way cautious about who - or what - is about to walk through her door. K'zin is wearing a warm smile when he pokes his head through the door. "Betcha thought I forgot," are his first all too cheerful words as he pushes the rest of the way in, holding a package approximately 8"x10" wrapped in a clean linen cloth and tied with a jute-like cord. He holds it out in front of him, using a toe to nudge the door closed as he advances towards her report-fort. He stops shy of it, looking for a clean entry and ends up just hovering on the outside of the piles, extending the gift toward her. "I--" A brilliant smile blossoms on Madilla's face as she recognises K'zin, although that's nothing to the one that follows, as she - shyly, somehow - reaches out to accept the gift. "I didn't expect anything, K'zin, not this turn. I know how busy you are." She sets the package down in her lap, reaching, instead, to try and clear up some of her mess of papers-- "You do have time to sit and talk, though, I hope? I could make tea... and Delinda and her family gave me some caramels, if you'd like one?" "Pfft. Poppycock. Anyone who's too busy to recognize a turnday of someone special ought to be dragged out and -- Iunno, um, pelted with dinner rolls or something." There's an almost comedic thoughtfulness that follows as one could probably guess that he's thinking about the prospect of being pelted by delicious, soft, fluffy dinner rolls and about how many of them he could catch in his mouth. "Besides, this is my first turn as a rider. And that makes me feel, well... more adult, I guess, than when I was an apprentice. I don't want my first turn as a man to be the first turn I miss out on giving you a turnday gift." K'zin's babble is nervous now that she has the package in hand. "Yes, I can stay a bit. Caramels?" K'zin has never ever been known to turn down food, of any kind. Madilla will just have to be careful that she rations him on them. His brown eyes search about hopefully. Whenever she gets around to opening the gift, she'll find that it's a framed very life-like sketch of her eldest, the frame a simple beveled metal so as not to take away from the art's simplicity, and over top he's sized and cut a piece of glass to preserve the sketch from fingerprints or klah-spills. The sketch is signed in tiny script at the lower left with his name. Madilla repeats, after a moment, heartily amused: "Pelted with dinner rolls. I'll remember that." The smile she aims in his direction is fond, and there's something quietly approving in it, in answer to at least some of his babble. "The caramels are on my desk-- bring the box?" While he does that (assuming he does), the healer lowers her gaze back to the gift in her lap, which she opens with careful fingers. Even if he's across the room when the linen is folded back to reveal the framed picture inside, it would be hard to miss her intake of breath. "Oh, Waki." There are reasons to be dutiful that one should never argue with. Love is certainly one, and the love of food is another. So without any protest, K'zin turns to the desk to find the box of caramels. In so doing, he manages to miss the best moment. He whirls, managing not to scatter the caramels everywhere, though they do rock in the box threateningly. He catches the tail end of the look, and grinning like a loon he heads back to the sitting area, picking his way through the papers to take a seat. "Do you like it? Someone told me recently that my sketching was pretty good. I thought maybe you'd like a sketch of Lilabet for your turnday." Obviously, he was right. This is decidedly a much more thoughtful and grown up gift than any given in the past, adding one more measurable reflection of growth in the past turn. If the initial look of surprise and delight only lingers long enough for K'zin to get a brief glimpse, the absolute pleasure and gratitude that follow are much more long-lived. Madilla clutches the picture between her hands in a way that is delightfully possessive, barely able to tear her gaze away from it in order to look back at the weyrling. "I love it," she promises, fervently. "It's - one of the most thoughtful gifts I've ever received. Thank you. You did a beautiful job. Has my daughter been conspiring with you, then?" K'zin's smile in response beams his own pride and pleasure at her reaction. "Good!" Then, suddenly too casual, he leans back in the chair, balancing the caramels on his knees. "Conspiring? Who, me? With your daughter? We would never!" Of course they would. "I told her I was a friend and wanted to do something nice for your turnday. Make sure you show her how it turned out. I let her peek, but I didn't want to keep her while I was doing all the shading and stuff." The shading that must have taken hours to perfect. "I'm sure Lilibet would've been more suspicious if I hadn't convinced Delinda of my pure intentions." He smiles with amusement toward the healer. "Did you have a good turnday, Mads?" "No wonder she's been asking me if I got any nice presents. I thought she might have heard about the caramels." Green eyes drop back down towards the picture, studying each line; Madilla exhales gently, audibly pleased. "Delinda, too? It's a good thing I can trust you; otherwise, I think I'd be in terrible trouble. You did a beautiful job, K'zin. Of capturing her, but also-- you're very good at this. Perhaps after you've finished weyrlinghood, I can commission you to do something similar for Dilan. It-- was a lovely turnday, yes. Thank you. Although that daughter of mine thinks I'm old. Possibly ancient. Oh, to be eight again. It's nearly your turnday, too, as I recall. Do you have plans?" K'zin's expression screws up in mock frustration, "What? One of Dilan too? But if you commission me, what will I ever get you for your next turnday?!" Then he's grinning wide, so surely he doesn't mean any of it. "Actually, I was going to do Dilan too, but Lilibet said she wasn't sure if he could keep a secret. So consider it an extension of your turnday present this year. Or as thanks for fixing my nose without some unsightly bump." A finger rises to tap the now long-healed nose lightly. As for his turnday, he gives a shrug, busying himself with picking up the caramels and offering them first to her (they are hers after all!), "You know me. I don't like to make a big deal out of it. I got my privileges back though, so maybe I'll have a beer in Snowasis or something." A low, breathy laugh escapes Madilla, and she agrees, "Lily's probably right on that front. He'd promise faithfully, and he'd try, but it would just well up inside of him and-- boom. No more secret. Honestly, though, I'd like to commission you. It's only fair." She accepts one of the caramels, holding it between two fingers in order to pop it into her mouth, which stops her from saying anything else for a few moments. Her words are still muffled when she says, "Eighteen, though, isn't it? You need to do something. Invite your friends along to join you. I'm afraid your gift from me will be a little late, too. But it will come." "Sounds a lot like me when I was really little." K'zin grins at the description of Dilan. "Your daughter is a smart one. I probably wouldn't've thought it through without her saying so." He grins, pulling the box back to take one for himself. "Mads," He starts then. "I'm sorry, but I can't." His expression is possibly the most determined she's ever seen it. He leans forward in the chair, rolling the caramel between his fingers. "I won't take your marks. I'll do the drawing, I'll be more than happy to, but nothing I ever give you is anything other than a gift. No money between us." Perhaps this goes back to the way she once described him as sort of a little brother, that he had rejected so wholly. He blushes a little, looking a touch surprised that she remembers his age so accurately. "Yes, eighteen." He confirms with a nod. "I guess some would say it makes me fully adult," Even though some are certainly considered grown at younger ages. "You don't have to get me anything, Mads," It's a quirk of his; feeling others' turndays should be recognized and celebrated and wanting to play his down as much as possible. It's been that way since his family left the Weyr. "I'm not sure as I have anyone that fits friends right now." That is delivered with a nervous laugh, trying to make it sound like a joke, or like no big deal. He pops the caramel into his mouth so he can't say anything further, at least while he chews. Madilla's mouth opens, as though she intends to argue his determined refusal, but evidently she thinks better of it (or perhaps she's swayed by his words); she nods. "Of course," she says. "As you say. And of course I need to get you something-- and I'm not even saying that because of fairness or anything like that. We're friends, aren't we? I'm your friend." Which doesn't necessarily follow that she's inviting herself along to his birthday drinks, especially when she follows it up, quietly, with: "I'm sorry. It's an awkward part of your life, isn't it? I know things have been difficult, for a lot of you. In a lot of different ways." K'zin's brows knit as she points that out. He has a few moments to consider that as he chews the caramel. After swallowing, he levels a very calm and collected look at her, "Yes. You are my friend." Beat. "So, friend, will you have a drink with me on my turnday?" His brown gaze is locked on her face, expression deeply serious, as though it's a question whose importance rivals all those that have come before. He gives her a moment to think about it, as he goes on to say with a shrug, "Growing up is awkward. We look all gangly and shoot up and out in different ways and the same kind of thing is happening on the inside. When all's said and done, you can't say much more than that you've had a time of it; it's been good, bad, and plenty of places in between. You'll have friends you've lost and friends you've gained and it's all just-- what it is. Fighting change just makes it harder." All very mature sentiments to be sure, and this time he doesn't ruin it with a silly expression. Madilla studies the seriousness of his expression for several seconds before she replies, answering quietly. "Of course I will. If you want me there, then I would be delighted to join you. I was thinking about-- about growing up, myself, the other day." She leans back, adjusting the position of the picture in her lap but not yet relinquishing it. "I think you've got the right of it. No one escapes unchanged; you just can't, not and be an adult at the end of it. But it sets you on your path for the future, and that's important. Seventeen and eighteen were difficult, but it all worked out in the end. I wish I could go back in time and reassure myself of that." "I do. It might just make it the best turnday to date." And now that that's settled, he gets a little more comfortable, slouching into the seat for a moment before abruptly straightening again with a vaguely surprised expression. Then a moment later he's slouching again. It's like a little tug of war with his spine. His arms fold firmly across his chest as though he won't be surprised into straightening again. None of the movement corresponds to her words, so dragon is a good guess as a source of the strangeness. "I've got a lot of people telling me I'm changing and not for the better." K'zin tells her quietly, "Thing is, Mads, not a one of them has bothered to get to know the changing me or Rasavyth in any depth before declaring that. It's like they expected me to be spineless and slacking forever." Clearly, that's not how it's going to be from now on, but he can't help looking vaguely annoyed. Then he forces his face to relax into a grin, "What were you like before you started growing up? I bet if we'd known each other, you'd've smacked me a couple of times, kind of the way Mave has had to." Not that he can actually picture Madilla ever hitting anyone for any reason, and some sense of that sentiment shows in his amused face. To K'zin, Rasavyth has largely been staying out of the current happenings of his rider, but when the brunette starts to slouch, he has to butt in, « No, sit up, my K'zin, you're doing so well showing your maturity. She's receptive of it. » And every conversation is an opportunity, as far as he's concerned, to practice his graces and charm. Surprise ripples like a shockwave as his spine responds before his thoughts can. « I'm not putting the moves on her, Ras. I'm just talking. Leave me be. » The complaint is accompanied by a nudge of force. (K'zin to Rasavyth) Alida's face pops into K'zin's mind; the guardswoman rolling her eyes. « As you wish. » The tenor purrs with amusement before withdrawing a respectful distance, but no doubt still watching. (Rasavyth to K'zin) It is strangeness, and it does result in a reaction from the healer: she studies K'zin with a thoughtful expression, her eyebrows lifting ever so slightly - and then, a smile, and a slow shake of the head that's barely there. "I'm sorry," she says, quietly. "That people feel that way. I'm afraid people have a... natural tendency to put people in a box and struggle with people's progressions away from that box." She worries at her lower lip with her teeth for a few moments, and then smiles. "I never smacked anyone, as tempting as it was, at times. I was frightfully shy, and terribly unsure of myself. Torn between what had always been expected of me, by my family, and what was required of me, by my craft. But you can't be a Healer who treats patients if you can't feel confidence in your own skills and knowledge... I learned, in time." The thoughtful look earns an explanation. "Sorry. He's concerned with my posture. Thinks I should sit straighter." Then K'zin shrugs, "I'm sorry too. I wish I could grow with some people, instead of growing apart from them. But all I can do is be myself and try to make it work. And it doesn't always. Any relationship -- friendship or whatever, it takes two people, right? Give and take? So do your part and that's all that's in your control." A healthy way to look at it, probably. He sits up to lean forward with the caramels for her again. "I have a hard time picturing you shy, Mads. Especially frightfully so. I'm glad you did learned. I enjoy you as you are. Which is not to say that I wouldn't have liked you frightfully shy, but I was a brat, so it's probably better that we grew up at different times." Grew. Past tense. He's all adult and stuff now. Evidently, K'zin being lectured on his posture by Rasavyth delights Madilla, because it interrupts her more thoughtful demeanour with a smile. "It does," she confirms. "Two people, meeting-- if not in the middle, then certainly partway. We all grow up at different paces; perhaps your friends will join you there, eventually." She demurs on the caramels, with a wave of her hand, but uses that same hand to encourage him towards another one. "Do you really? I'm still-- no, I suppose I can't call myself shy, not as much. Quiet, maybe. I had to grow into my confidence. I was friends with a boy who was a brat, back at the Hall... but I suspect you're right. Besides," she teases, "What would you have done without older me to help you along and set your nose?" "Maybe," K'zin agrees readily enough, though the tone implies that he might not be holding out too much hope of it. "In the meantime, I've got lovely other friends to get to know better." Brown eyes move away from the caramels to lock momentarily on the Healer, "So, twenty...six?" He guesses, "Is ancient to your daughter?" It might have been thought that he missed her talk of her turnday, but no, no, it wasn't lost on him. "You're right, though. I'd've been lost without you. Certainly with a very different face, and I rather like mine as it is." He reaches up to toy with one of his bangs, the caramels getting set aside without him taking another. "Tell me about this boy that you were friends with? Anything like me? Aside from the obvious brat connection." The sympathy in Madilla's gaze doesn't make it as far as her mouth, and in the end, it's abandoned in lieu of a low laugh. "Twenty-nine," she says. "If she thinks I'm old now, I hate to think what she'll say in a few turns time. Will I be positively ancient at thirty-five? I prefer your nose as it is, I think." She shifts, finally drawing her feet out from beneath her, so that she, too, can sit up straighter. "Daegan was... he was an apprentice, like me, but it was a family thing. He Stood at Telgar - for the clutch Tiriana Impressed at, as it happened - but he was injured, badly. He became more dutiful to his studies after that, but he was still... I don't know. Not so very like you, not in every way. At thirteen, fourteen, he was desperate to be grown up, to know who he was. What he wanted. He was mixed up. I seem to have a habit of forming friendships with people that others don't understand." K'zin snorts. "That's not old." He might point out that he'll be her age in only eleven turns, which is more than half his current lifetime, but that would be taking him the wrong direction to make her feel better about aging. "What they don't know yet is how much better you get every turn you grow. Just so long as she isn't convinced you're going to die soon, I think you'll pull through the turns of her thinking you're ancient." His grin is amused. "So a lot like me then, at least in the sense of mixed up and not necessarily someone that everyone understands. Good to know you have an affinity for my type. Means I'm not likely to scare you off anytime soon. Unless... you didn't up and abandon him or anything like that, did you?" K'zin is suddenly showing mild concern, leaning forward toward the healer, brow furrowed in thought. Golden sands swirl almost politely at the verge of quicksilver shimmers, Ilicaeth testing to see if his bronze brother is awake, aware, and has a moment. (To Rasavyth from Ilicaeth) "No," agrees Madilla, the corners of her mouth twitching. "Not old. Don't worry - I'm not bemoaning my age. I'm really quite glad to be getting older. Bring on thirty." She hesitates before answering the rest, though she's still smiling. "I collect all types, I think. As friends, I mean. Daegan and I grew apart after I was posted here. Perhaps before then, really; it isn't as though we had much in common, despite our craft. I haven't spoken to him in Turns. But - I don't abandon people, not really. I try not to. You're safe, I promise." At first touch, it's obvious that the bronze is awake. It does seem that his attention, at least in the first moment, is bent to some other happening, but as the patterns of oozy webs he was weaving split into two distinct groups, one goes on with the initial task and the other transforms into the sandy breeze he's inclined to use when speaking to Ilicaeth. « Good evening, Ilicaeth. » As ever, the bronze's mindtouch is inviting and cozy; of course he has time. (To Ilicaeth from Rasavyth) "Alright then." K'zin is eager to believe, and so he does. He wrinkles his nose, regarding the healer. "I can't believe you're going to be thirty next turn. You don't look thirty," His tone is one of complaint. "Maybe you can just turn twenty-nine again next turn and give me a few turns to catch up." His expression turns thoughtful and he's silent a long moment before asking, "Do you think age matters in relationships? Friendships or whatever else, I mean." Yeah, he gets the whole accommodating, polite, cozy thing...and for once, Ilicaeth doesn't just cut through it with rasping desert sands or prickly words. Instead, the rocky bluff of a blue notes in subdued swirls of his characteristic sands kept lose to parched ground, « Alida's...concerned about Cailluneth's. » Pause. « N'ky. » It's not that he's forcing himself to say the name - Ilicaeth's one of those dragons that just seems to tag name to rider well - but something about the greenrider feels a little...muddled, to the stalwart, realistic blue. Another, darker swirl of sand coughs up into the dry air in time with the next though that erupts from it. « That kid's kinda messed up in the heart over enough things. Since yer K'zin's supposedly his best friend, figured I'd better mention such. » (To Rasavyth from Ilicaeth) The corners of Madilla's mouth twitch again-- and then she's chuckling, though she attempts, with a hand to her mouth, to try and stop herself. "I'll try," she promises, lightheartedly. More serious is her, "I think-- age is just a number. There are always more factors than that: maturity, common interests, circumstances. Delifa was my friend, and she was old enough to be my mother, I suppose. Leova's nearly a decade my senior, too. But it works, for us. It certainly doesn't always work. How could it?" To Ilicaeth, Rasavyth's mind is receptive, the breeze warm and balmy. « She is right to be concerned. My K'zin is also. He attempted to make things better; he made things worse instead. » Beat. « I am not permitted to interfere in his friendship with Cailluneth's N'ky. I could not advise him. It was a mistake. » This last is said with regret. The regret is not his own, but translated from K'zin's mind. With it comes a glimpse of what the man's mindtouch is like: warmth, as from the glow of a fire, intelligent designs and patterns not unlike Rasavyth imprinted on every surface, the taste of sweet rolls, klah, and succulent roast wherry. The scents are orange peel and leather, a strange heady combination. All of this is colored by the keen regret he feels for his failed attempt. « I shall pass your message to him. He will do his best, but sometimes his best is not good enough for Cailluneth's N'ky. He- » N'ky, « -does not see my K'zin clearly. He sees him only as a stranger and not as he truly is. » The sensation shared is that K'zin is still himself, just growing up. "For us, too, right?" K'zin queries, "You're older than I am, but we're still friends. And becoming better friends because of those other factors changing?" He chews his lower lip a moment. "Mads, I know you're busy as Weyrhealer and all that. But... I was wondering. Would you maybe have time to teach me some first aid stuff beyond what we're learning in the weyrling program? We'd like to know what to do if ever we're in a situation where there isn't a healer nearby and someone needs immediate help." Breath. "And I want to understand bodies better. For my drawing. I want to understand how-- how they're made? What the parts are?" He's not entirely sure what information he's really asking for, "So I can draw them more accurately." "Of course," confirms Madilla, still smiling. "For us, too." Those words slip in before the rest of what he says, which leaves her looking thoughtful, but not in a negative way. "I don't have a lot of time," she admits, finally. "Between my normal studies, and the children, and--" Other parts of her life, presumably. "I can try, though. And I have a pair of Apprentices who are just dying to prove themselves; I'm sure they'd be happy to help. Would anatomy books be of assistance? For your drawing?" « They talked a few days ago, and Cai's...N'ky ran away after Alida wouldn't hug him. » There's no confusion over emotional concerns, but a certain briskness of sand skating over cracked ground. After all, *his* lifemate doesn't really give out hugs to anyone. That's just how it is. The feeling of K'zin's regret filtered through the quicksilver lens of the bronze's mind is taken in with a certain eagerness, the blue placing scents and sights, sounds that make up 'K'zin' to Rasavyth...Ilicaeth nodding his suddenly dancing dust and sand whorl of gold. Unbidden, with a scouring blast of fierce pride that's scalpel-sharp, a montage of how his own lifemate seems to him assaults his brother's mind: a high mountain meadow strewn with Spring grasses and dotted with various colors of wildflowers. The scents of jasmine and lavender...mixed with the scrape of keen metal drawn against metal. A flash of Igen's fierce and intense sunrise, and the scream of a wild, predatory avian. And then, reluctantly, he closes off the sharing of such, rumbling again to Rasavyth « N'ky's slackin' off on weyrling stuff, too. He's been missing from lots uv' lessons, lately. » Chuff. « Alida talked t'the Weyr's mindhealer about him, and *she's* concerned, too. » (To Rasavyth from Ilicaeth) K'zin's lips pucker and slide to one side of his mouth in a look of both disappointment and the dawning realization of someone who hadn't really realized being Weyrhealer takes a lot of time. "Oh, right. Of course you are." He starts to dismiss the idea, but then she mentions the apprentices and his face lights up, "Yeah, that'd be great. The apprentices and the books. And maybe just-- you know, a lesson here or there from you? I don't like only seeing you when I'm broken or need to babble inanely to someone qualified to deal with crazy people." The smile he gives her then is sheepish. "I don't want to make you too busy for all the other parts of your life just... maybe looking for a little more time to spend with a friend?" And of course all the reasons that he said already. There's a flutter to the breeze that intimates a sigh from the bronze. « Why did Cailluneth's N'ky think he could get your Alida to hug him? Doesn't he value his man-parts? » Evidently the dragon (probably with a healthy dose of his rider's opinion) doesn't think asking Alida for an actual hug (as opposed to a wrestler's grapple) would be a safe activity. « My K'zin says he will do whatever he can, but he is not hopeful that he is the right person to help Cailluneth's N'ky. He says I may share with you that he, stupidly, » The word is reinforced by that orange and leather combo, so this must be the verbiage K'zin would use to describe it as well, « tried to motivate Cailluneth's N'ky by telling him to do the opposite of what he should do. Which in plain terms means he told him that he should be a quitter like he is currently being. » Beat. « As I said, unwise. He has to apologize for it but does not yet know how. Perhaps a hug. » This last comment is openly amusing to the bronze. (To Ilicaeth from Rasavyth) Madilla, in reply, seems genuinely, uncomfortably apologetic, but also relieved, a moment later, when equanimity is restored. "Of course," she promises. "I won't leave you to their devices entirely. I can always make some time for a friend, I promise. Don't ever think that I'm too busy to be there when you need me, either, all right? I'll certainly do my best. Honestly, I'm surprised you have time for all of this, given the rest of your training. Or are you coasting through things, at the moment?" "Well, I just tested out of my remedials, and because I broke the rules and turned myself in for it, I was on punishment, but that's over now, too, and I'm not part of the silver threads thing because, well, probably because I broke the rules, but maybe other things too. I'm sitting in on some of their lessons, but since I'm done with remedials, that's a lot of learning time I got back. And Ras-- well, he really likes to learn." K'zin grins, "I figured it was better to be busy than idle. I'm apt to get myself into trouble if I don't have enough to do." He's really trying to be good now. Trying. "I'll remember that, Mads. Thanks. It means a lot to me." Beat. "Actually, can I ask your advice about something?" He too wonders why in his own fashion, Ilicaeth simply telling Rasavyth what he overheard a few days ago. « C...N'ky thought that, since Alida didn't keep him away from her anymore, she would hug him to make him feel better. Since he asked. » There comes a harsh chuff and swirl of mixed gold and black sands into two little dust devils with the bronze's assessment of what's safe and UNsafe around Alida, a slender and steely-sounding bit of laughter addending the sight/feel of his sands. « K'zin can't likely do much, like y'said...but I thought he should know, anyhow. » Friends, and all that stuff. And then the blue's analyzing the rest of what Rasavyth shows him, tells him, Ilicaeth trying to puzzle out in guard fashion just what the shell *will* get through to the greenrider. « Alida used her usual straight-on approach...but, uh, more gently. » Obviously that didn't help, either. And then his golden sands sift down to powder, and seems to whisper, « Cailluneth's confided in Alida that he really wishes he woulda' been picked for ... » No words for it, but the temporary image of a sandy strand of silver in a rank cord spells it out perfectly. There's a loud, derisive snort right on its heels. (To Rasavyth from Ilicaeth) It's a long spiel, and a long chain of events to catch up on, and Madilla's eyebrows knit as she listens, and raise, too, but only briefly, and by the end of it? Well, she's returning that grin. "I'd rather be busy than idle, too," she admits. "Even now, my fingers are itching to do something, but it's not as though I can catch up on reports and talk to you, so they'll have to wait. Advice, though-- of course. I can certainly try." K'zin's eyes look to the reports, as though he's just now registering what they are... and that they're everywhere. His eyes round and his expression turns guilty. "Oh, sorry, Mads. I didn't mean to--" He cuts himself off and changes tracks quickly, "Okay, just this and then I promise I'll get out of your hair." Even if it was she that asked if he could stay and talk when he came in. "I know Alida's been to see you about N'ky. But I'm just wondering what I could do. I already messed up pretty bad, trying to tell him the opposite of what I really want him to do, and he crushed his clay dragon and went away. I said some pretty awful things, so I don't really blame him for walking away, but he's quitting trying for anything. And I don't know how to fix it. He's all upset because he was trying hard and didn't get a silver thread. So now he's not trying at anything and I told him to go ahead and quit. And then it got worse. And now... I'm not sure he'll even speak to me or what I should say when I try." Beat. "I've apologized a lot for a lot of things." He really does spend at least half his time apologizing. "But I don't know how to apologize for this." He hesitates, "Any advice?" Though now that he's said it all out loud, he has a look on his face that might say 'why I thought it was fair to ask about this... I have no idea'. Amusement ripples through the shimmering breeze, individual sparkles of sand seeming to stand out. « Anyone can see that your Alida is not the hugging sort. » That said, however, he adds with thoughtful amusement, « But if she ever needs a quick release once they're permitted; my K'zin would be a good choice. He does not get attached and is not particularly cuddly. » At least so far as he knows right now. « I believe his attributes would be sufficiently pleasing » Way to pimp, Ras. « if she is interested in his gender. » There is some doubt there, since there's been no confirmation one way or another. « She may wish to give him time to practice with others though, as he has no experience as yet. » This tangent aside, he turns back to the matter of N'ky. « We appreciate you and yours thinking to tell us. He will try. He is with the Weyrhealer now and is asking for advice on how to proceed. Perhaps she will be able to offer him insights. » The sensation comes again that Ras has ideas, but isn't permitted to interfere and he lives by the letter of that agreement. « Cailluneth's N'ky shared the same, of the thread, with my K'zin. That's where things began to go wrong. » (To Ilicaeth from Rasavyth) A wave of one hand is Madilla's attempt to presumably suggest that it's fine, that she'd rather be talking to him (which is probably true). Besides: he gave her a turnday present. Mention of N'ky has her expression falling, her mouth drawing together, though her teeth pull at the skin of her lip, attempting to draw it into her mouth. "Do your weyrlingmasters know what's going on with him? Because-- I can talk to him, and I promised Alida I would try, but--" Obviously, she's concerned. "I don't think it's your fault. You were trying to help him, but from the sounds of it... N'ky needs more than that, right now. I don't know what to say, except that telling him, outright, that you were trying to help and that you're sorry it hurt him, can't hurt further. I don't think. Don't push him to accept your apology - just put it out there. Let him come back to it, and you, when he's ready." K'zin chews his lower lip, "I wasn't sure what to say to the Weyrlingmasters. N'ky's convinced Quinlys hates him because he stutters." The chewing seems to intensify, pressure-wise, a nervous habit that's starting to chap his lower lip noticeably. "I'm not sure who to tell or not tell. Obviously it has to do with his performance and the weyrlingmasters are the obvious choice, but-- I don't know if they're really going to be able to help. I guess I also didn't want to-- you know, betray his trust? I know it's important to go to the weyrlingmasters but N'ky is-- was maybe," He's not sure. "-my best friend." His youth shows in how important he makes that relationship sound. "I'll go to them about it if you think I should." The softest of rumbles, neither here nor there, is Ilicaeth's response to his brother's assessment of Alida, though his sands shift to a dusty brown at words of Rasavyth offering his own rider for the guard's 'use' later on. Glibly, quickly, « I don't understand what all the hub-bub over sex is. Apparently all human males and some females dwell on it day and night at their age. » Cue an image of N'ky, K'zin, Sabella all on some rumpled bed together (though the image is kind-of hazy and distorted, as he has no damned idea what really goes on there) crawling all over each other and touching, slobbering. « Crazy. » And then that weirdness is swirled aside in a buffet of dust and sand in order that the more pressing issue of the greenrider can be dealt with. « I think that's why Alida went to her (insert image of Madilla here)...to tell her so *she* can figure out something. » Faranth knows nobody else has been able to. As to the program... « N'ky said he was frustrated by not bein' able to have sex, by being looked down on as...lesser. » Another bob of eddying sands to their mutual confusion as to what to do over whatever's gone wrong ends in a rasping sigh from the blue that banishes those eddies into a simple desert landscape. The feeling from him is definitely, 'I give.' (To Rasavyth from Ilicaeth) To Ilicaeth, Rasavyth is prepared to explain about the hub-bub, but asks briefly for information to make his example make sense. « What is the most pleasurable activity you know? Flying? Oiling? Eating? Something else? Madilla's wince at the idea of Quinlys hating N'ky is a genuine one; as genuine as the thin line of her mouth, and the sadness in her eyes. "Poor N'ky," she says. "Quinlys can be... difficult to read, sometimes. I don't want you to betray his trust, either. Perhaps you should suggest he go and talk to Meara-- perhaps she's a little more neutral, and a little less... inadvertently abrasive. But if he absolutely refuses to talk to them... Well. I can, if you like. If you'd prefer to keep yourself out of that; which I can entirely understand." Most pleasurable...hmmm. There's some definite pondering going on within Ilicaeth's grape, and his sands lower to the parched desert floor, scraping in a haunting fashion over baked ground. Finally comes his enthusiastic pre-baritone, « Oiling/Flying/Killing... » and the intense images to back them up...especially killing. Blood everywhere...the spill of it down the throat. The lurch of a heartbeat that suddenly ends where teeth and claws rend, rip, puncture, slash. The thrill of the power in that absolute moment. (To Rasavyth from Ilicaeth) K'zin takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly as he lets her advice sink in. "No." Now he squares his shoulders, hands finding his knees. "I'll do it. It's the responsible thing to do. They need to know, since I don't think it's going to fix itself. And since I bungled the job so badly." He pushes himself up to stand, since he said he wouldn't take more of her time after that bit of advice. "Alright for me to stop back later in the seven to pick up those anatomy books? Unless--" He gives a glance around, 'unless she has them handy.' "You did the best you could," says Madilla, gently. "Please - don't beat yourself up about it. You tried. That's what friends do. You're not expected to have all the answers." She hesitates, lips slightly parted, as though there's something else she wants to say, something that she ultimately discards. "Of course. I'll get them out for you. Drop in any time. I'd get them for you now, but--" She has a picture on her lap, and papers everywhere. Moving might be problematic. "Thank you for my present, Waki. And-- I do hope you and N'ky can work things out. It sounds like he needs a friend." To Ilicaeth, Rasavyth takes those exact feelings that Ilicaeth relates; the moment of extreme pleasure, and puts it on a repeating track in the background of his words, with small lulls, just enough to make it not overly stimulating. « For them, sex is like this. » The pleasure swells, reaches its most intense point and then ebbs only to climb again. « If you could have this moment, over and over again without any ill effect, you would want to; anyone would want to. Sometimes, » Abruptly the pleasure track vanishes and he lets the emptiness of his touch build with increasing tension; tension he imagines Ilicaeth may have experienced with Alida, tension that leads to an explosion of intense feeling, not the pleasurable kind. Before it gets to the point of exploding however, he kicks the pleasure track back on, and the tension flows out in the climax of the moment of the kill as it feels to Ilicaeth. « just once at the right moment can be enough to remove the tension. » He finally finishes the thought. The track is stripped away, lest it be too distracting. « Cailluneth's N'ky finds it especially challenging because he had his first experiences not long before Cailluneth found him. My K'zin likes to kiss people because before he found me, he had only kissed two. » Super inexperienced. « It is fun and new, the way that hunting once was for us. In time, it may not be as exciting, but for now it is interesting and new. » There is no comment made on Sabella, though. In point of fact, there's a vague puzzled sensation shared in regard to the greenrider and why she is selected as the one for the bed image he shared. « The Weyrhealer tells my K'zin that the Weyrlingmasters should know of his struggles. My K'zin will do this, for the greater good. And he will hope Cailluneth's N'ky understands. » The last is touched with thoughtfulness on the bronze's part. "Of course," K'zin is understanding of her papered state, and this is likely in response to the talk about N'ky, too. He hesitates a moment after rising, but then navigates through the piles carefully, tripping just as he nears her and catches himself on the arm of her chair. He's come this far though, so leaning precariously, he dips his head down to look at her, closely. "Mads-" He starts as though he might be about to drop some emotional bomb, such is the gravity of the way he speaks. Then abruptly his head moves and places a peck on her cheek, grinning broadly, a familiar impish grin, when he moves back, straightening. "Happy belated turnday." Madilla waits, expectant, for the emotional bomb that never comes. If she's relieved (or otherwise!) by the lack of it, there's no sign of that in her expression: mostly, she seems terribly pleased by the peck, which prompts her to reach out to squeeze his hand, just for a moment. "Thank you, Waki. And don't think you've gotten out of celebrating yours, either. We'll talk again soon, okay?" Because now, alas, it is definitely time to return to that paperwork (and maybe take another so-pleased look at her turnday present, too). "Alright, alright," His grumbles are to the words about his turnday and seem to be more or less playful. K'zin grins again down at her. "We can find a time for me to sketch Dilan, too. If you figure out a good day next seven, I can get started on it." Really, where does he find the time? A final smile is directed to the healer and then he's dancing his way out of her maze of papers and to her door. "See you soon, Mads." He calls, his baritone warm as he steps out the door. The befuddled blue pays rapt attention to what Rasavyth has to offer, Ilicaeth's sands lifting, liiiifting, and following every pattern of swelling, tension, near explosion, release. His mind is blown for a few moments, the feeling of '*wow*' thick within desert air. And then comes his sudden, boyish inquiry of, « How do *you* know this? » Because both Rasavyth and K'zin haven't ever mated before. And because when a human is alone and pleasuring themself, it's not mating/sex. If the blue only understood the implications of the roundabout information he just gave away...he'd kick himself. Or Alida might. « Yes... Flying *is* wonderful and new. I wonder how it might ever become boring. Or killing. » In aside to the bronze's puzzlement, those golden sands shrug, rasp out an offhanded, « She's the only human female that stands out to us, in our class. Alida doesn't much like her. » Scoff. There's a faint kind of wince of sands as the bronze admits that K'zin's prompted Madilla to talk to the weyrlingmasters...and then he just shakes his head...now a granite, blue-ish rock rising out of the desert floor. « He... N'ky's gonna be upset over that. » Beat. « He might think uv' it as all of us betrayin' him. He's not happy with the weyrlingmasters, like Alida isn't. » (To Rasavyth from Ilicaeth) To Ilicaeth, Rasavyth's response to the question is so simple, laced delicately with just the faintest edge of amusement, that it turns out to be quite comedic on the whole: « I read. » There is a brief flash of the cover of a book, vivid and very real. It's entitled "The Helpful Healer's How-To Guide: Mating", and a brief flip through the pages, which he seems to have more or less memorized (or K'zin has), the flip book showing words and images. « I simply took the science explained for the reactions and applied a situation and set of feelings you're familiar with to make it easier to understand and relate to. » Piece of cake, right? Perhaps not for all dragons, but for Ras, that's child's play. « The good news is that it might be that we will never grow weary of flying or killing, the bad news is that it may be that some who have never participated in mating before may not grow weary of doing it either. I confess I find the act utterly fascinating. » It is so very different from what they will do one day in accordance with their primal instincts, and yet, somewhat the same. As if being a virgin wasn't going to be hard enough for the first time, K'zin's most certainly going to have his very own coach (or peanut gallery). To the matter of Sabella, Rasavyth is thoughtful. « He does find her attractive. But then, he finds them all attractive. I believe it is the artist in him. He finds something to appreciate in a person and focuses on that. His perspective is very willing to find something desirable and nice about people. » This does puzzle the bronze a bit, but that's likely why he thinks on it. It's one of the very real differences between himself and his rider; Rasavyth looks at people as they are, K'zin looks at them with willing eyes, ready to like a person as friend or otherwise, depending. The bronze then clarifies. « She » The image is pulled from K'zin's mind because he's never seen Madilla himself, and it's sort of hazy around the edges touched with admiration, « suggested it needed to be done. He will do it. He knows Cailluneth's N'ky will not be pleased with him. But... it is the right move. For all of us. Hopefully, Cailluneth's N'ky will find a way to forgive my K'zin for this necessity. My K'zin may try to speak with him first. » The bronze ponders this, but even as he ponders, it's obvious that he's sharing that pondering with his rider, it is not his alone. « I do, too... » Ilicaeth sends back to Rasavyth, the blue only a little smug, a lot proud. The images (and a few words) he sends images to the bronze are missives on pages he's right now pulling from his dozing lifemate's mind...from one of those wingleadership volumes she took from the records room. To Rasavyth, it's likely damned dry and boring, but to the blue, it's pretty good stuff. Still, this whole mating/sex thing is much more interesting right *now*, and as such, Ilicaeth soon abandons his first tack in order to look over what his brother has to offer. « I believe I see... » is rumbled off with leftover hints of granite to Ras' explanation of how he explained so well what he'd never experienced, 'caeth then applying the same method to show his bro how one properly holds and lunges with a sword. He, however, uses his rider in place of an illustration, and yet somehow nudges the hilt of the big blade into Rasavyth's grip, letting him experience the singing tension, the flowing and powerful impulse of muscles that deliver what would be a killing blow. Even the purely mental exercise sends a shiver of pleasure and glee through the blue...something Ras might view as semi-sexual, though it has nothing to do with Ilicaeth's reproductive organs. Ahh, and then it's back to talk of mating versus not-mating, and the slowly relaxing dragon's sands quirk slightly in a dance of quartz as he observes, « So never having mated is...dangerous? It might make humans addicted? » There's the quick thought of K'zin never getting out of bed, always salivating and pawing at N'ky and Sabella, and it vaguely disturbs him. « That doesn't seem possible... » Right? Wait...art? Again, Ilicaeth sifts through Alida's mind in gentle fashion, finding no resistance to looking through her mental store of pictures she's seen. « Pictures like *this* are art... » A sketched dragon; a field of flowers; a colored pencil picture of some cool rock formation in Igen; a holder woman dressed for the harvest, picking root crops. « Is that what K'zin does? » And then the conversation returns to N'ky, the other things they speak of pushed reluctantly back into the blue's mind. There *are* priorities. Sigh. « Alida will back him up is he wishes it. » He sounds so certain. (To Rasavyth from Ilicaeth) No, no, no. On the contrary, Rasavyth is fascinated by the pages shared to him. All knowledge is good knowledge when he is the one receiving it. Each item offered is examined and filed away for later study. Nothing dry or boring here! The exercise in explaining without words the movement of sword and wielder is also taken in with gratitude. « Do show me more at some moment when the hour is more favorable. » He requests, tone polite, not the least bit demanding. He's interested, that's all. « It's possible. » Rasavyth allows, « Though I would not say that it is dangerous. It is the natural state. After all, there was a time, » Though he doesn't actively choose to pull the memory from K'zin to share it, « Before we had made a kill. Now we do. » His hunting has markedly improved, though he's still far from the best. « It is the natural state to go from never having done something to having done something if it is in your nature to do that something. » This explanation has enough words that it might be confusing, but he attempts to keep the blue following by threading a needle through the concepts and leaving them hanging for him to examine from any angle that would be helpful. « I do not think it is likely that they would become addicted, but like us, they would enjoy the excitement. Just as we do not kill every moment though we may enjoy it, they would not fuck every moment. » To the matter of art, there is simple acknowledgement; that is what K'zin does. He further offers the painting project getting underway, painting huge sheets sewn together and there's some vague reference to Mave's planned performance. « If it becomes necessary, he will ask it of her; otherwise, he will allow her to be distanced from it, should Cailluneth's N'ky need one to speak of it to. » Aren't they nice, letting Alida be the shoulder? (To Ilicaeth from Rasavyth) Spectacular! Ilicaeth is enjoying talking it up with his brother, for once, this 'neutral' subject of N'ky perhaps having brought them just a bit closer. « I'll try... » is noted almost companionably, a little feeling of pardons for interruption added in for the hour. As for thoughts on 'dangerous' mating, the blue mulls Ras' words over, then rumbling a sandy, « Like all of us not flying before, and now learning how to do such. Natural. » He's a quick study, the process made even easier by his very clever brother. Thoughts of enjoying mating and killing not being part of every waking moment get a chuff of agreement, along with a somewhat protective, « I'll make certain Alida's thoughts 'n dreams uv' mating don't lead her astray. » A final, acquiescing rumble is Ilicaeth's first answer for the utilization of the blonde as a shoulder, if needs be, the blue then offering up a sly, « She needs somemore light socialization. That'd be perfect. » (To Rasavyth from Ilicaeth) To Ilicaeth, Rasavyth has always been willing to be companionable; in point of fact, he's never been anything but friendly, even when their secret exchanging business didn't go so well when they were so very young. If it weren't for that niggling of something not right that can't be pinpointed and that Rasavyth seems either to be unaware of or unable to control, he'd be the best brother of the bunch, for sure! At least as conversation partners go. « Natural indeed. As I understand it, » He blends the topics together, « When there are no messy strings of actual relationships attached, physical release through mating is considered light socialization as well. » The sensation that he's ensuring Ilicaeth hasn't forgotten his initial suggestion that K'zin would be an appropriate outlet for that kind of thing. He adds after a thoughtful pause, « Cailluneth's N'ky might not be a bad choice either; he is more experienced. Though, judging from his earlier request, there would likely be more cuddling. » Whether this is meant as a genuine suggestion or to make K'zin look preferable is anyone's guess. In the time that this conversation has carried on, K'zin and his bronze have returned to the barracks, and bronze and boy are abed. « It is time now for sleep. We must be well rested in case it is our turn to fly tomorrow. » How exciting that would be! His mind turns toward sleep, and invites Ilicaeth's to do so as well... ... if he can sleep now that the bronze has so helpfully transmitted such bright and zealous feelings of excitement at the prospect of flying with one's rider. If Ilicaeth has a restless night, the source is clear. He ponders his brother's words, the feeling that always accompanies communications with Rasavyth still present, but less so this time, Ilicaeth quirking his slowing scatters of sand as he notes, « I've been thinking over choices for her, too, when the day comes. Perhaps K'zin, perhaps N'ky. It's so complicated for them. » Draconic mating is supposedly so much more direct, simple. Silly humans. Oh, to *fly* with their riders! Oh, let it be *soon*! That want indeed insinuates itself through the blue's mind as he rumbles a rather cheery and wordless good night to the bronze as the pair pass his couch - Alida already sleeping like a stone in her cot - Ilicaeth curled up in a loose ball, though one of his lambent eyes is partially open to peer upon the other duo. Indeed, his night is restless with many dreams, a mishmash of flight, kills, and humans doing strange things in a bed. Someone's going to be a little tired tomorrow... and maybe a lot happy. (To Rasavyth from Ilicaeth) |
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Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Thu, 25 Apr 2013 10:01:23 GMT.
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Aw! That really was a thoughtful gift... pretty perfect for Madilla. <3 I feel like Madilla needs a picnic at the beach or something, do a little detox before she throws herself back into Weyrhealering and weyrling-troubles. x3
I enjoyed the way Ilicaeth and Rasavyth echoed K'zin's concerns, before the conversation took a curious turn. The title does not lie.
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