Logs:Dirty Hypocrite
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| RL Date: 23 January, 2013 |
| Who: Barnabas, Lourna |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Barnabas tries to keep out of trouble in the bathing pools. Trouble finds him, in the shape of Lourna. |
| Where: Bathing Pools, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 18, Month 11, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: H'vier/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: WARNING: Adult material. Seriously. |
| Bathing Pools, High Reaches Weyr Bathing Pools, High Reaches Weyr Omnipresent clouds of steam slink across the tops of three naturally warm pools, set into the floor of this kidney-shaped cavern. Near the entrance the ceiling is high and polished, gleaming with little mineral specks as it sweeps downward into increasingly ragged, uneven steps. The foremost of the pools is squared off with wide steps leading down into the water and has faucets for bringing in cooler water from a rain-catching cistern. Primarily used for laundry, there's an almost constant film of suds along its surface until the circulating current clears it at the end of the day. Four sinks line the nearest wall and various tubs stored beneath allow for the washing of delicates. Laundry bags can be dropped off in the bins near the door and clean, folded laundry is stacked in rows of tall cubbies for easy pickup. The bend in the cavern leads to a rougher-hewn part of the chamber where the two circular bathing pools welcome those in need of a wash. Towels and washcloths are kept in neat stacks on shelves along the wall, along with sacks of sweetsand and a few bars of precious soap. Stone benches provide a place for sitting to remove shoes and clothing, while a row of gleaming brass hooks stand above, ready to hold clothes and robes. There's one place in the weyr where at first the thick fog from outside seems to have crept in. The bathing caverns have their own lingering mists that eyes scarcely barely penetrate, thanks in no small part to the man hiding away from the more political events of the day. As his laundry soaks itself through in the sinks, around the bend the male is neck-deep in soothing hot waters, wearing nothing more than a stupid smile and the sets of leather cuffs at his wrists that no one has ever seen him without. He's entirely alone, and not by accident. Alone, for a time. Gold flights are always an 'exciting time', and Lourna herself is not exempt from the waves of lust that fall over the weyr. That doesn't mean she simply gives in, in spite of the physiological changes brought on by the dramatic flight above. A few shouts are no doubt heard before her arrival, echoes off of the stone of the weyr. Even her appearance is easy to miss through that sea of fog, though the slap of her leather boots on the stone is not so easy to miss. One would assume she would be familiar with the placement of pools here, and one would be right, but the flush-faced youth is presently looking over her shoulder, and by the time she directs her attention forward, it's too late. One boot hits water instead of hard ground, and she goes tumbling, fully clothed, into Bones' pool, disappearing temporarily beneath the water with a strangled, cut-off cry of surprise. Bones isn't so quick to react to the subtle sounds of her entering, only one eye propping open at the initial clicks and clacks. He opens his mouth to warn the figure about the edge of the pools, but by then it's too late. "Watch out for th-" splash. Well that was going to embarrassing for whoever just inadvertently joined him. "Here, lemme help ya." The visitor is still submerged as he speaks the words, and yet he wades further into the middle of the pool to reach down and try and get a handle on whoever might be concerned about their impending lungs full of water. "Haha, you must feel like such a stupid-" Again his words are interrupted by his hands gripping at something much softer than an arm. Shit. That's a lady. Hand quickly fumbles to find a forearm or hand and guide the stranger to the surface. Now it was Bones' turn to be a touch embarrassed. What would be more embarrassing than accidentally copping a feel would be drowning in a bathing pool. It's clear by the way that Lourna initially flails that she wasn't expecting to go falling face first into heated water. Fortunately, she doesn't strike anything tender, and eventually Bones' grip on her arm once he orients himself to the figure in the pool is enough to bring the young woman to the surface. As soon as her head breaks the surface of the pool, Lourna is gasping for air in sharp, ragged, stuttering breaths. Once she makes sense of where she is, she blinks up at Bones' countenance with widening dark green eyes with her lightly tanned cheeks already flushed and deepening to red by the moment. And of course, that considerable bosom of hers is heaving with each desperately drawn breath. When her voice finally comes, it's roughened huskily around edges already naturally lower pitched. "You!" As soon as her eyes meet his, he's quick to release her arm for the very mild fear that his grip might be seen as anything but supportive. She recognizes him before the same could be said in return, her hair flattened by soaked water giving her a briefly different profile. "... Me!" He's smiling, though it's not his usual full playful grin. Something a bit warmer and softer. "Bones, if you forgot." Thankfully not standing in full nude glory, his knees are bent enough to keep all but his shoulders and head submerged, hints of chest and arm ink breaking the surface. "Lourna, right? Tanner girl." She doesn't catch her breath for a good minute or two, suggesting that she didn't immediately start running within the bathing chamber itself; she's been at it a while. As surprise, shock, and breathlessness lessen, she finds her footing and draws herself to her full height. Which, compared to men like Bones', isn't impressive at a mere five-foot four. It doesn't help that she's perfectly drenched to the bone; the leather she's strapped into isn't solid and there are plenty of gaps for colored fabric to show through. Lourna sucks in another deep breath, and eyes Bones' glassily with half-lidded eyes. The color of her cheeks doesn't recede, and she stands there awkwardly, stiff and soaking. "Uhhh--yes," she mutters, her voice practically a rumble in her throat. She's torn between glancing at the water, which seems an irrationally bad idea, or looking at him. Instead, she directs her attention towards a mist-shrouded ceiling whilst trying to dispel his image from her mind, and the promise of nudity. "I remembered." Another muttered rumble. And there Lourna still stands, unmoving, in the pool and still quite fully clothed. It's only as she stands and catches her breath that the convict looks at her. That is, truly looks at her. Her clothes already skin-tight, the drenching water only greater serves to help accentuate all of her curves. It's in that moment where she looks to the ceiling that he succumbs to just some of the inescapable urges that permeate through all of High Reaches. It can't hurt to just look, right? "You should take off your clothes." His voice is low yet fierce, almost a wolfish growl more than man's voice. Almost immediately after the words are uttered however, he moves swift to wipe clean the subconsciously uttered suggestion. "I mean, no! No you should NOT do that." Smooth recovery. Still, he's able to laugh as he puts his palm to his forehead and closes his eyes. "Sorry baby girl, I just... I've been feelin' weird all day. Ain't myself, y'know?" Before the youth realizes what she's doing, half the buckles on that vest are done, and it's impressive how quickly she can manage that. Then again, practice makes perfect. Then her fingers are frozen on the strap halfway down, stuck there as if by will alone, stalled suddenly between incapable of stopping and incapable of continuing. His 'recovery' is met with a strangled, roughened laugh that sounds painfully forced, and yet sudden. Lourna cringes visibly at the sound of her own voice echoing through the chamber, and at the rising tension. She swallows, convulsively, suddenly dry mouthed, but not for the first time today. Tongue feeling as if sandpaper against her lips, she tries in vain to wet them nervously. And those dark green eyes of her stay focused on the point right above his head upon the ceiling; she can't see it, but damned if she isn't trying to pierce that shroud of mist washing over the rock. "It's--well, it's..." Her voice trails away, temporarily dying in her throat. Lourna clears her throat, but it does little to dispel the husky edge plaguing her. "It's the gold flight. It's not wrong or anything, it's just um... you know. How it is," she says, a little lamely. Bones' eyes widen as she did exactly as his darker side suggested, something stirring low in his stomach at the sight. He can't help but imagine how much more fun he'd be having if he didn't have a conscience. "How much of an ass would I be for keepin' a big man monster off of you, only to take his place when nobody was looking?" The question doesn't sound like as much of a joke as he intends, and he has to clear his throat. "What's... what's that about the gold flight now?" He's a non-rider. He didn't get the memo. "I don't need your help fending for myself. If I want to be bedded, I will be bedded. And if I don't, I won't," Lourna suddenly snarls, dropping her intense green eyes to peer at him, teeth bared. It is completely out of character for her behavior before, and her breath quickens. Around the time where she ceases speaking, she seems to realize what she says, and that 'fearsome' snarl of hers breaks completely, and Lourna grimaces visibly. "I'm--sorry," she mutters, looking at the water. At her feet. Her hands remain poised at her vest, and she takes another pointless swallow while searching helplessly for words that struggle to come to her. "A gold flight is the most important thing that happens here at the weyr. It's an exciting time, and it uh... uh..." Wetting her lips, the youth plows on, fingers teasing at the leather while she gnaws upon her full lower lip. "It's a mating flight." That explains everything, right? With eyes opening wide at her sudden act of aggression, he's entirely stunned by her sudden affirmation of independence. At first. Something deeper in him snaps at the words, and he bares his own teeth in response. "Why you ungrateful little welp!" It's just as he's starting to rise up out of the water and move towards her that he sees her face soften, and her soft apology slips free. Thankfully, he slinks back down under the water, the surface having just nearly passed his belly. That was close. "Nnnf. What the hell is wrong with me!" His words are growled in frustration, drifting back towards the edge of the pool. Away from her. "What are you talking about? What's... why's it matter what kinda flight it is?" The pieces are slowly coming together. That gets her hackles up, and her hands drop from her half-buckled vest, fingers curling into fists. "What isn't," she growls in reply, her dark green eyes brightening with a turmoil of emotion both physical and mental in nature as they rove down the expanse of chest to pass along his abdomen before he's wisely sinking back into the water. The tip of her tongue rolls lightly along the edge of her teeth, and then she bites down; hard. This is quickly followed by a convulsive swallow, and Lourna forces her fingers to uncurl. "Because, we feel it. We all feel it, and we all answer it. You must not be weyrbred." The youth gives a contemptuous little snort and peers down at Bones' with those half-lidded eyes narrowing, weighing. Doesn't watch her eyes trail along his body, but can feel the gaze none the less. All the push ups and crunches weren't going to waste after all. He takes the attention as an excuse to do the same to her, eyes narrowing, trying to will the leathers to fall away with his mind. "Y'can take the leather off at least. Must weigh a ton." Either he doesn't hear the details of the flight and of how it's effecting the two of them, or he just doesn't care in that moment. "Let me help." He swims slowly towards her, surface of the water moved just enough to obscure details of his form under the waves. It's only when he's directly in front of her that he actually has the nerve to stand at his full height, perhaps only an inch of space between their bodies. His hands go to hers, guiding her to the other buckles she has left. And suddenly, the ceiling is absolutely fascinating, or at least a distraction from glancing downward. She doesn't want to know, and simultaneously desires more than nothing else to do exactly. "Some," Lourna admits, her voice a rough whisper that escapes parched lips. She keeps her head tilted back, eyes fixed on the misted rock surface above while her fingers work mechanically, suddenly clumsy, at the remaining buckles. Truthfully, it's something of a relief; the vest itself is solid leather, double-stitched for support, and confining. When it loosens, she sucks in a deeper breath. Linen, naturally, is worn beneath, but it's soaked completely through and just shy of translucency, clinging to every single inch of her skin it covers. "It's comfortable," she mutters to fill the unbearable silence that falls over both save for the breath that catches in her throat and sounds too loud in her ears, a throbbing beat in her temples. "I'll get my b--" Without thinking, she immediately leans over into--nope. With a small, strangled sound, she tilts backward and loses her balance, disappearing again beneath the water. She doesn't seem eager to come up quickly, and the only thing that appears is one boot in one hand reaching from the water to offer it to him. Just as Lourna is having difficulty looking down, so too does Bones, getting glimpses of the skin-tight linen out of his lower peripheral, but leaving it to imagination as to precisely how much he's seeing. He thinks it's a lot. But even with bust lingering below, her eyes are nearly just as enticing to stare into in his sensitive state, and that's where his focus sticks. It's just as he's reaching to bring rough fingertips to the side of her blushing face that she falls, his lustful expression giving way to concern and mild panic once more. He laughs and brings one hand to his forehead again, other reaching down to take her boot. "What're you doing old man..." he mutters with a combination of amusement and disgust. "I tripped," she lies through her teeth as she is dragged, spitting water, from the bathing pool. "I'm sorry. It's really not a big deal, nobody cares, it's just something that happens, and I just--" Realizing she's babbling, Lourna reaches down and tugs off her other boot, pretending that he is not standing right there in all of his denuded glory. The boot is filled with water, so she tips it and flings it off to the side where it strikes the rock wall with an audibly wet plop. "Have you ever tried to remove wet leather pants?" As if to add brevity to the situation, Lourna offers him a weak grin, and tries to do precisely that. Fingers search for the buckle at her waist, pressing against the firm flesh of her abdomen. It's almost a show in and of itself watching her wiggle and wriggle out of her pants, giving sharp tugs the peel the leather down over the smooth skin of her hips, thighs, and calves. It's an effort, it truly is, and the linen undershirt hits just below the curve of her rump. It's almost enough that she forgets he's standing *right there* until she finishes, holding the leather leggings in one hand. "So--uh... you really didn't know that?" Dark green eyes blink at him through strands of dark blonde hair plastered by water against the tanned skin of her brow and cheeks. Still with palm to forehead as she emerges from the water, he opens his eyes to lock onto her wide hips, squirming free of their leather casings with an almost dance-like quality. Well, at least that's how his fevered mind was interpreting the motions. His chest noticeably starts to rise and fall more fully as he takes in the sight, a sign of his quickening breath. But as he shuts his eyes tightly, the memory of her awkward fall and spitting water can't help but remind him of an uncomfortable fact. She was an awkward little teen, and definitely not of her right mind. He groans, partially lustful but more defeated than anything else. Without opening his eyes, he reaches an arm strongly around her waist and tugs her in sharp to his front. "Lourna..." he starts, already rough voice now deep and husky. "I don't think we should be... nnf, hold on." No, he's not just going to completely turn away this chance. He ducks down to lock his lips to hers in a tight, needy kiss. One of frustration and hunger, but ultimately only serving to stoke the flames with how brief it is. "Sorry." Eyes are still closed. He's too ashamed to see the look on her face. "It's the... flight. The mating flight, right? So... let's... let's not." He releases her, and rubs his eyes with one hand while rubbing the back of his neck with the other. Relax big guy. "If you still feel half the way you do about me now after all this blows over, y'can come find me again. I'll take real good care of you then. But not now. Just ain't right, y'know?" She resists very little when she is seized and pressed against the still damp chest of the man a literal foot taller than she. At least it means she doesn't have to immediately look him in the eye as color floods into the swell of her cheeks. Dark green eyes peer intently at Bones' chest, breath stilling temporarily in her throat as the young woman stiffens against him. But if he's going to grasp her, she might as well... Without giving it too much conscious thought, Lourn lifts her arms and slides them readily along Bones' hips in embrace. Her nails are mercifully shortened for her line of work, but they no doubt still press sharply against the sensitive skin lining his spine when her fingers dig reflexively. "We should be-" And then the older man's mouth is pressed squarely upon her own as Lourna lifts her chin to address him. The young woman is inexperienced even in this, it would seem, but what she lacks in grace about it she more than makes up for in heat. Lourna melts against his chest, her weight pressed heavily against him through the strain of thin linen, and the young woman's lips part to free an eager tongue. And then it's done, and she's left both breathless and fleetingly confused as her thoughts swim. When Bones' lets go, Lourna goes staggering back at the suddenness of his release, blinking up at him owlishly. "What?" She's too shocked for his rejection to sink in immediately. "But, I... you don't... it's not..." Articulate, this one. All Lourna would need to do is glance down to see his rejection is most certainly not based on anything physical. Yet now he's insistent on finally hiding it. He had left a towel poolside, and with all his laundry soaking in the sinks it was his last refuge. Unless he tried to put on her pants. "It ain't cuz you ain't beautiful. Because..." He dips down into the waters again, swimming a lazy breast stroke towards the rim and then rising up out of the still waves he'd created in motion. He's amazingly graceful in water. A stark contrast to everything he is on land. "Y'got a body built for bedrooms. Y'make knees weak. Y'make hearts flutter. Y'make... well, you get it. Yer hot." He steps up from the water now, bare feet giving wet smacks to the stone. She'd get a brief glimpse of bare convict bum, and the... heart tattoo on it? Small and off to the side, close to his hip, but certainly there. Yup, heart tattoo. It's wrapped up swiftly by the towel he wraps arond his waist. "Y'need a better man. Softer man. A... smaller man." She's left standing there, awkwardly, in the pool. Alone, staring at the water, her cheeks still heated, her breath still quickened by desire. Say whatever Bones' would like to, the waves of the lust rolling off of the residual flight beat Lourna unmercifully. It isn't in her nature to be hateful, but she does grow... tense. Swallowing a number of times before finding her voice, the youth's fingers clench at her side, nails biting fine crescents into the tender skin of her palms. And then, she laughs, a pained laugh at that. "Really?" She sounds skeptical, baring her teeth, wrinkling her nose. "Yes, I have always enjoyed being pawed at by fifteen year old boys who work alongside me." It sets her teeth to grinding. "I had half hoped that H'vier's dragon would fail just so he might come find me." A sobering thought. Lourna's fingers uncurl, and she lifts her hands to obscure her face. Her social ineptitude is showing, again. Now standing at the edge of the waters, Bones can't help but turn to look at her with a raised eyebrow at her laugh, picking up the notes of frustration and hurt. That was not the reaction he was expecting at all. "Hey.. it ain't..." He isn't sure what to say to reassure her, but turning comes with the side effect of seeing her body again, and he's forced to give a small grunt and turn away once more. Stupid dragon orgy thing. "I'm tryin' to do the right thing here!" There's a tone of anger now, brow furrowing as he goes ahead and commits to the full turn towards her. "I'm this close to tearin' into you like a steak!" "Shards! What right thing?" She honestly doesn't get it. In spite of her awkwardness, Lourna is weyrbred, and their sexuality is radically altered from that experienced in the Holds. Even she knows /that/. "I don't know what you're talking about, and frankly, it sounds stupid," Lourna growls softly, wading easily through the water and trailing linen shirt behind her. She reaches the edge as Bones' is turning around to make his final quip, and then without a shred of fear with her dark green eyes intense with ravenous desire, the youth reaches upward. Her fingers, she hopes, grasp the edge of that towel and give a quick, powerful yank to expose him. Even as she does it, Lourna's other hand reaches for a vulnerable ankle with the intent of forcing Bones' back into the pool with a tumble not unlike her own. It's trickier, of course, but if he doesn't want to fall onto his rear end on hard stone, the water is his safest bet. "Hey, what're you-" Bones reflexes are fast, reaching down to try and snatch back the towel she tugs from him almost as soon as she begins pulling at it. Perhaps it's his reflexes that are his downfall, his height forcing him to bend so low to contest that the grip at his ankle is doubly effective on the slick stone. He flips end over end, creating a terrible clapping splash as his bare back crashes into the water, sinking underneath the surface for a few short seconds. Under the surface she'd see his form right itself, and in a flash he's standing in front of her again, water dripping off his tensed and de-toweled form. With brow angrily pinched and teeth bared, he growls each and every word. "You! You.. spoiled little... dirty..." He fails at words, and so instead closes the distance. Her linen shirt is the target of his anger, the cloth effortlessly ripped from her body and tossed into the water behind the pair of them. Brows lift, and a gasp is issued at that grab, and the linen, soaked through, tears readily under the pressure applied. As if he needed further evidence of her natural gifts. She certain doesn't pad her vest, nor even her shirt, and the water beads upon her skin in enticing crystalline droplets that only aid in drawing further attention to the surprisingly pert, considerable swell of her chest. That grin is ingratiating, and her dark green eyes glitter with both amusement and poorly concealed desire. "I hope you intend to replace that, as leather chafes something fierce," she remarks, her voice roughened and giddy once more. Her bronzed flesh shows light toning from heavy work, and the tension of muscles ready to spring is apparent as she poses 'casually' with her hands falling to reside upon the curve of her hips. "Are you really from a Hold?" Lourna practically crows with delight. She doesn't appear to know whether to laugh at his prudish ways, or his state. He closes what little distance there is between them in a sudden rush of forward movement, not stopping until her rump is pinned against the edge of the pool. With no retreat left for her, he moves himself in so tight against her front that it flattens out her hefty bustline "Let it chafe." His voice is raw now. Feral. "It'll remind you of me." Rough hands go to her hips and grip possessively, and his lips peel back in a sinister grin. "Forget where I was born." He lunges in suddenly, his lips attached in rough kiss to her throat, hot breath making the steaming bath water seem frigid by comparison. "I'm part of High Reaches now." Her balance is such that when she isn't overwhelmed with embarrassment, Lourna keeps her feet just fine, forcibly backpedaled by Bones' ominous approach. She is torn between balking, and exuberance, and the war of that inner turmoil is expressed readily across her features. With a clumsy sweep of her hand, she brushes dark blonde hair from her face, slowly beginning to dry. Lourna grunts softly as her rear meets the edge of the pool's wall. Pinned between it and the enticing press of Bones' against her, the young woman succumbs, tilting her head just so to allow him better access to the stretch of soft, unblemished skin between her shoulder and jaw. A soft, breathy groan escapes the young apprentice, and she squirms beneath him to settle herself on the edge of the pool so as to draw him eagerly between her knees. The difference in height is significant, and Lourna lifts lean arms to draw Bones' down to her, a hand tangling in the long hair at the base of his skull and the other spread across his shoulders. While he is focused upon her throat, her teeth find Bones' ear indelicately. The wild spirit of High Reaches' finally makes it's way to the quiet bathing pools, the convict guiding his lips up her slender neck untill they can lock with her lips again. This time the kiss would not be broken in such a few short seconds. Instead, it would maintain that frenzied pace with only short pauses taken for breaths in between. He'd make good on his word. He'd take real good care of her. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:Dirty Hypocrite"Azaylia (Dragonshy) left a comment on Thu, 24 Jan 2013 11:50:40 GMT.
... *sighs and gets out the chart and puppets* When a gold goes up in her mating flight... Geez Bones, do I have to tell you everything? Holdbred. Sigh.
Varied (Varied) left a comment on Thu, 24 Jan 2013 19:23:27 GMT.
Here and I'd have thought he was a clean hypocrite, being in the baths and all. D:
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