Logs:Decision Made
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| RL Date: 5 February, 2014 |
| Who: Finne, N'dalis |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After Finne sends him a note, N'dalis tracks her down. She - eventually - lets him know her decision. |
| Where: Kitchen, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 13, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| And just like that, it was winter. Not in the kitchens, though, where the ovens warm up even the chilliest of afternoons. Dal's not a frequently kitchen visitor, but today he's got a scrap of paper in one hand and a question on his face as he hunts through the caverns - and his repeated entreaties regarding a girl named Finne do finally lead him in through those swinging doors. He pauses, just out of the way of the door, dark eyes seeking past one person and another; surely Finne is around here somewhere! It's so hard to miss the bright burst of energy Finne is and so that surely is met with success. Finne is hovering over a cook's shoulder smiling prettily and reaching over to yoink little slivers of uncooked carrots and winter squash. They crunch satisfyingly, and the man just shakes his head at her. "They taste better when cooked. Rate you're going, there'll be none left for the squash soup for dinner." Finne merely laughs and reaches for another piece and starting in on another running commentary of this or that. /There/. Dal's probably amused by what he sees - and overhears - but he's got business on the brain, and perhaps some sympathy for Finne's hoveree. Brandishing that little note on his hand, the greenrider weaves his way past others, hard at work, in order to draw up alongside Finne and the cook. "Good afternoon," he says. And, "Would you mind, sir, if I stole your helper here for a few minutes? I believe, Finne, you wanted to speak to me?" She's /just/ finagled an odd request to help him slice vegetables and by the time N'dalis makes his way over, she's about to make her first chop. Yes, the bubbles trapped in human form is now in possession of a knife. "Hey! It's you again. I thought I'd run into you again. This is my boyfriend, um. Good looking guy. Good looking guy, this is Cook Big Nose." There might be a little wink somewhere in between all that. "Did you know they have to peel and cut all those squashes to make the soup that you'll eat tonight?" One might think that, after their last conversation, Dal is more or less prepared for Finne's... Finne-ness. But no. He blinks, and then several times more just for good measure, casting the cook a glance out of the corner of his eyes. Yeah. So. "I did know that," he confirms. "I peeled and chopped many a squash when I was a candidate. It's a lot of work, feeding the weyr." The cook rubs his rather large nose a little self-consciously. "You can call me Fonz," he says by introduction to N'dalis, but then takes the opportunity to run away under the pretense of preparing a beef salad. Poor, beleaguered man. "Did you need something?" Finne asks distractedly, all her concentration fixed on not slicing her fingers off. Her tongue pokes out the corner of her mouth and her brow is knit in concentration. N'dalis, certainly, has a sympathetic glance to aim after the departing cook. Poor man. Blinking, the greenrider turns his attention back on Finne, though it hovers there for a moment or two only before sliding to the note in his hand, and then back again. The note gets set down upon the bench, clearly identifiable for what it is. "You indicated we needed to talk," he reminds her. "Oh. Damnit." The top half of her nail is sliced off. "Don't worry there's no blood. But wouldn't it be kind of crazy cool if there were? Dinner, come to a bloody halt cause of a fledgling knifer." Finne reaches in the small pile of cubed squash she's made and plucks out the very tip of her index finger's nail and puts it in a pocket. "Did you like my note? A friend helped round it out to maximize it's scariness. I think she thought I was breaking up with my boyfriend." She pauses. "Wait, are we breaking up?" N'dalis opens his mouth to say something, perhaps /anything/, and then just... stops. What does a person say to that? "Do we have something to break up?" he counters, finally, presumably trying very hard to sound casual and perhaps even joking, though the confusion makes that rather more difficult. "It was an excellent note. Perhaps... you should stop chopping the vegetables, before there is blood." "I think so too. Clearly, kitchen work is not my calling." Finne sighs and puts the knife down, only to grab a handful of raw butternut squash cubes to munch on. "So, what was it again? Are you about to sweep me off my feet and whisk me off to summer?" N'dalis hastily draws his hands behind his back, as if by holding them, together, he can keep himself from... well, it's hard to know what, really. Presumably he's not - yet - thinking about strangling Finne. He indicates the note with a tip of his head. "You wanted to see me," he reminds her. "Was it... did you have an answer to the question I asked you, last time?" Willful blankness stares at him a long, likely insufferable, moment. "I did have a reason. I'm sure. To ask you to meet me. But now I.. oh! OH! OH!" Her succession of delighted 'ohs' draws attention from all parts of the kitchen, but that mischievous smile? That's for N'dalis alone. "You never finished giving me a tour of your Weyr." Behind his back, Dal's fingers curl against each other. It's not the 'ohs' that have him tensing, so, but rather than mischievous smile; it has his brows raising, and his mouth drawing into a thin line. "I... suppose I didn't," he allows. But: "Is that really why you sent me that note?" Because dude: he's dubious about that. Finne just gives him a long, level look. It says far more than words can with its arched brow and sigh-infused head tilt. And now? Now Dal clearly feels bad, because he immediately offers Finne the crook of his elbow, and gestures towards the door. "What is it you'd like to see?" he wonders. The elbow is gladly taken and the young woman leads the way. "Oh, I don't know, I've pretty much explored most of the place on my own since you left me." The sigh in Finne's expression is gone and she flashes the most unrepentant of smiles. "I just wanted to see what you'd do. You're really nice. I'm sorry for teasing you so much, but something about you... I don't know what it is, but it makes me want to tease and tease until you might stop being nice and that's really mean of me. I did have an answer for you. But can I ask a question first?" Oh, Finne. Dal's brows raise all over again, but he's still too nice to be seriously /annoyed/ at her... just bemused. "You," he says, "are a very strange, strange girl." He's also too nice to run away from her, and so they keep walking. "Of course you may," he agrees, placidly. "Why? I mean, what about all of this is worth it for you? You said you were looking for a new start. I'd like that. A stable start. Some place... longer than a seven or a month. But," Finne worries her lower lip, her pixie face actually solemn for once, "It's irreversible, y'know? Impressing. How can you know your life was better for it?" It's the solemnity that seems to really catch Dal off-guard, though the question is a good one: that he thinks so is immediately obvious in his expression. An exhale precedes his answer, thoughtfulness suffused within it. "I suppose..." A pause. "How can you ever know your life was better for one thing over another? Except that now I have Suraieth, and I know that... that I can no longer imagine life without her. It would be like living without a heart. But you're right: it's a serious commitment. You can't take it back. You have to be sure." "Do you ever regret it? I guess not, since you have a dragon in your head and everything and everyone has said that it's like a piece of them was missing. But no regrets. Ever? Really? /EVER/?" Finne stops walking as they get just shy of the kitchen. "Don't you ever wonder how life might have been? Would be? Sometimes I do that anyway, and I know I can always go back and... do something else." N'dalis' hesitation is much longer, this time - and his eyes close along with it, so really, it's probably a good thing they've stopped walking. "I was married," he says, finally, as his eyes open again. "My wife died. So for me... I regret that, of course, and I don't know that I could choose between those options, but... I have no regrets about Impressing, no. Nothing I was doing, before, mattered. This is where I'm supposed to be. I'm--" He lets out a huff of air that could almost be a laugh. "Not sure that is necessarily helpful to you, though." Finne's face instantly turns pink and then a bright red. "Oh." It's as heartfelt as a one syllable word can get. The hand at his elbow says far more with the reflexive clench and pressure of her fingers. "It is. Thank you for sharing that with me." The brunette has many different smiles, a number of which N'dalis has already seen thus far, but this one, it's a quieter one, reflection and sympathy all rolled up into one pleasant, if somber look. "I want to say yes. But I'm still not completely sure. But I want to say yes. I feel like I would kick myself if I say no and wonder constantly if I'll ever get the opportunity again. I already said goodbye to my family last night." Dal, too, flushes, glancing away in an awkward manner that suggests he's not wholly comfortable with having spilled his guts like that, and look, something else to focus on! Temporarily. But he glances back, giving the girl a tentative, but quite possibly encouraging, smile. "You can always change your mind before the hatching," he tells her, quietly. "Su and I won't be offended. It's... a difficult decision, and I would rather you take it seriously than not." Everything is too serious. Too serious! "I..." Finne works her jaw and then laughs, reaching forward for an impulsive hug. "I was thinking that. If I get cold feet the night before. Well... I guess that would be that then! Can I buy you a drink? There's a bar place over there somewhere. Or next time? What do I need to do? Wait, /can/ I drink??" Despite his reserve, Dal is a warm hugger - perhaps it's something to do with the small child he has at home. He even smiles, in that tentative-but-heartfelt kind of way he has. "That seems reasonable," he agrees. And, "You can drink. You just... can't be /drunk/. Shall we say you owe me one, for some point in the future? And now..." For now, he'll just escort her to the barracks. "I don't get drunk anyway." Now, whether this is because she's incapable of drinking that much, can drink a whole lot, or doesn't drink, well... that's left up to the air to decide. Finne walks alongside N'dalis, but it's not until they've made it out of the living cavern that she's asking, "Oh. I do have one. More. Question. I, uh... don't hate me. But I forgot your name." N'dalis' mouth twitches. Okay, yes: that's mirth. "N'dalis," he answers. "Dal. Come on, Finne." Her blue eyes light up and she's tagging along. "We could make babies named Dalfinne some day." Finne, always unrepentant, laughs with a cute shoulder twitch and, wait, what is this? Leads the way to the barracks herself. "Told you I went exploring." "Dalfinne," repeats Dal, and okay, he's more or less laughing again. "So you did. You don't need me at all; I can see that now. Completely irrelevant." "Precisely. But," Finne lifts a finger and twirls it in the air. Then twirls herself too, in place. "You need me. You'll see some day, Dal. /I/ will not be irrelevant to you. Thank you. For talking to me and well, you know, putting up with me." N'dalis' expression turns bemused again, but in a relaxed, nearly cheerful, kind of way. "I suppose we'll see," he tells her, shaking his head. "You're welcome. Good luck, okay? Don't be a stranger." Just a weirdo. "Yes, sir." Finne salutes smartly and takes in a deep deep deep, soul grabbing breath. "Time to make friends." Shoulders square back and she heads into the barracks. N'dalis stays where he is, just for a few seconds more. He's... okay, very nearly laughing. Good. |
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