Logs:Dangnabit
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| RL Date: 4 September, 2014 |
| Who: Oliwer, Teisyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Teisyth accidentally talks to Oliwer. Yes, that can totally happen. This is Teisyth. |
| Where: Home Sweet Home |
| When: Day 19, Month 9, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. |
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| It's quiet, too quiet, when Oliwer gets back from his shift in the infirmary. G'laer, proddy G'laer, was supposed to be here waiting for him. As is often the case with Proddy G'laer, the man must have gotten distracted or delayed somewhere below. Only Teisyth is here, huddled in her couch, as her usual starting hide-out spot (one she routinely has to leave to find a better place once the males realize, not that she gets so many suitors, really, but... still!) She peeks out from under wing onto the ledge when the elevator dragon arrives and watches Oliwer dismount, eyeing the dragon warily until it goes. Only then does she dare to sneak her nose out just a little to croon a pitiful greeting to her rider's second love. Oliwer is familiar enough with the green pair's proddy behavior by now that this is nothing particularly peculiar to him. Especially since everything about their behavior is pretty peculiar when they're proddy. He offers the green a warm, affectionate smile as he passes on his way toward the inner weyr. "It will be over soon enough, dearheart," he tells her in a similar fashion to how he usually speaks to her, without expectation of reciprocation. And he leaves out any reminder that it will, you know, happen again soon enough, too. He kind of prefers not to think about that part himself, even. Teisyth might not even mean to, what with G'laer's standing orders not to, but the taste of copper and nuts carries her twangy alto mutter soft into the healer's mind. « Not soon enough. Donno why it has to happen at all. » She mopes, sighing audibly as her maw touches ground. He was already moving on into the weyr but the green in his head practically makes him trip on nothing. "I'm fine!" he makes sure to say after dropping his bag. That's left where it was dropped, even, when he turns back to look at the green with a concerned frown. He manages to mostly hide the jarring that her voice causes in his head. It helps that he's heard it before, no doubt. "Perhaps it would be kinder if none but the golds and bronzes had any inclination to mate," he allows academically, though he doesn't point out out loud that he might prefer it that way himself, even. If it meant G'laer didn't have sex with random people every few months. Teisyth's head abruptly rises, because no, she didn't realize she said that to Oliwer instead of just in her own head. « Oh shoot, oh shoot, oh shoot! » She panics and the head goes diving down to stick nose first into the pillows of her couch (with, you know, half of it still visible). « G'laer's gonna be so mad! I'm not surposed to talk t'you excepting in emergencies. » Which this isn't, even she can see that. "Hey. No. It's okay." It's not that Oliwer wants to get her in trouble, but he probably figures she feels awkward enough right now that adding this on top of it would be excessive. "We don't have to tell him, yeah? It will be fine." Oliwer offers her another smile, sympathetic now, then turns to make his way into the weyr again. Because surely if they just pretend it didn't happen, it basically didn't. « Like a secret? » Because even Proddy Teisyth is still Teisyth. « I'd like that. I've wanted ter talk t'you for a while. But G'laer always says no. » But G'laer isn't here now, and she's unhiding her head and looking at him with tilted head. "Precisely. A secret," says Oliwer as he picks up his bag and moves along to put it away where it belongs. Once that's done, he goes to heat up water for tea, talking as he does, "I've always enjoyed talking to you." Or talking at her, anyway. "Do you know why G'laer doesn't want us talking?" Is it so it isn't as easy for them to gang up on him? That might be a valid concern. There's a radiating feeling of warmth; Teisyth likes this idea and her happiness finds its way to him. « He says it's un'atrual. An' that I'll scare you. Or make you uncomfortable. But... I'm not, am I? » She worries, and that worry, too, can be felt. She follows the healer's movements with her eyes. It is strange, to be sure. Maybe even a little disorienting. Disconcerting? But Oliwer was incredibly fond of Teisyth before he ever felt her touch. Even if he may not ever have the chance to get used to it, he'll enjoy the moments they have when they come. "No. No, I'm not afraid. Or uncomfortable. It's quite all right, dear. I enjoy the sound of your voice." That's exciting. Exciting enough that Teisyth is daring to come out of her hiding curl enough to stretch her neck so her head gets as deep into the inner weyr as she can, which is still not very, but enough that she can watch the healer. « Really? » The idea is more felt than said that Oliwer is, to her recollection, the only one who's ever said so. Even G'laer finds it tolerable at best. Oliwer turns to look at what can be seen of the green from where he stands near the hearth. "I certainly prefer it to not hearing you at all. But... yes." Firm. "It's distinctive. Interesting. It's you. And I like you, Teisyth." A warm smile is offered to his weyrmate's dragon as he moves through the weyr to change out of his work clothes. The words and the smile made Teisyth feel warm all over, and if her hide was glowing a little, too? Well... She was bold enough to ask the healer as he changed, « Oli... after you get your tea, » the tea he always got after work, « would you maybe please come sit with me? » Hurriedly, she added, « You could bring your Chair. » Or sit on her, but she thought the Chair's welcome might make it more appealing. "I would love to sit with you, dearheart," is offered without any hint of hesitation while Oliwer changes in his usual, methodical manner. And once that's done, he's going back to the hearth to fetch his tea. When he finally makes his way toward Teisyth, the healer passes his chair. Apparently it will have to sit this one out. |
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