Logs:Dirty Looks
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| RL Date: 26 June, 2013 |
| Who: Jo, Z'ian |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Jo stops by with a nightcap and some looks. Z'ian still has a present for Jo. |
| Where: Z'ian's weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 2, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions |
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| It's been a long couple of weeks. There's been a lot of back and forth, tithes relinguised and claimed again, weyrwomen stepping down and then up. Z'ian's been dedicating a lot of his wing managing time to keeping Boreal together (and not celebrating too hard over the withdrawal of gold support for Taikrin). And perhaps there's been some rumors that he's been ignoring their 'Weyrleaders' orders now and there may even be some credence to that. But then he's been out of the public eye otherwise, instead spending more time with his sons or up in his weyr. Tonight isn't any different, he's laid out on his couch taking a nap with a piece of paper covering his face. Indeed, the weeks have been long - even for Jo. Most would find that hard to tell though, for from the outside, her schedule (full of vanishing acts), hasn't really changed all that much. She hasn't been much in the public eye these days since Aishani 's knot was found hanging in the living cavern. But despite all, those who know her routine would find it hasn't changed drastically, and so it's probably no surprise to find the blue pair landing on Tsanth's ledge, the rider jumping down before Tacuseth could settle and starts divesting herself of her riding gear. Stuffing it away once it's off, she lets herself into the inner portion of the weyr, finding Z'ian where he is and standing before him for a few moments as she watches him sleep. Then, loudly, "So the enemy does sleep when they've finished gorging on defiance and rebellion!" Hi! And, tucked under one arm, she does have a bottle with her. Nightcap? "Come on, woman." Z'ian mutters from underneath his piece of paper, clearly the very image of the leader of rebellion. Or something. Whatever he is, he's not particularly inspiring at this moment. "This is sacred ground where the enemy doesn't come in and wake us up when we're getting our beauty sleep." He yawns tiredly from beneath the writing and finally stretches, letting it flutter off his face and land on the ground. The bronzerider eyeballs that bottle and then swings his legs over the couch, pulling himself up into a sitting position. "You've seemed busy recently. Not too busy to stop by for a drink though." He begins to grin rakishly as he combs his hair with his fingers. "Aw, yer weyr's always neutral ground," Jo waves that off far too lightly as she moves to settle down on the couch beside him. "Besides. Thought ya'll didn' need beauty sleep? Busy puttin' the Weyr back to rights'n all." Now she makes a showy gesture of presenting the bottle, deadpan and all. To Z'ian's words on being busy, "Yer far busier than I am. Shouldn' I be sayin' that? Anyway, it's the good stuff, and no, it's nothin' congratulatory, either. I'm not congratulatin' ya." She gives a pointed look before she offers the bottle to him and asks, "Glasses or bottle?" She even one-handedly works to shove the black jacket from her shoulders, surely a woman of the cold elements. "You know. You're right. I'm too ruggedly handsome to need any sort of beauty sleep." He does look like he could use some sleep, but he's not insisting that he needs to get any quite yet. "Hey look, I only try to solve one problem at a time or create one more. Depending on how you look at it, I guess that's a matter of perspective." He rolls his eyes then, "You just said it was neutral ground. Don't go giving me that look. You had to have known what was going to happen better than anyone else, you know me." As for the matter of glasses or a bottle, he just shakes his head. When was the last time they used glasses anyway? "Been too busy." He finally agrees before getting to his feet slowly and stretching again. "Last damn month just swept by. I didn't get to do anything that I actually wanted to do." "Givin' just looks is considered part of the 'neutral ground territory'," Jo counters with another look. "It's better than what I should do, and won'. Open the bottle." No glasses, Her asking was likely just a courtesy call more than her actually wanting a glass. She nods when Z'ian does agree to him being busy, crossing her legs as she settles back against the couch, that next getting a soft snort and a, "Like what?" she now asks on the last, watching him steadily as she waits for the drink. Z'ian takes the bottle, meeting that gaze head on. "You know what?" He asks, crossing the room to get a corkscrew and digging it in. He pulls the cork out with a pop. "Just get it out of your system. Lets just get that you're angry at me for interfering over with and out there in the open. Because giving me dirty looks is not neutral." He takes a drink from the bottle and waves one hand to indicate the not-neutral-ness of the weyr they're in. Then he hands it over to her and goes to rummage around on one of the shelves. "Like what? Leave this weyr for a few days with you. Maybe, actually, kind of celebrate one of them." He presses his lips into a thin line as he can't find whatever he's looking for. "Really." Then he moves to the next shelf up, continuing the hunt. Jo is intent in watching Z'ian hunt, when he gets up to find the corkscrew. She never does seem to bring one herself, does she? "See? It's already out," she quips on getting it out in the open. "My looks weren' dirty. They're hard." Must be a world of difference to her, if not anyone else. Arms spread, "Beyond that, I've got nothin' on that score to say that ya wanna hear, darlin'. A look was all that's needed. Now," with her hands dropping back to the couch, "I do have some stuff to ask ya about on an investigation I've been doin', but first..." she pauses, watching him. "Celebrate," she echoes something said. "Does this have anythin' to do with certain gifts ya refuse to tell me about? Lucky you that I still can remember." She might have stopped dropping guesses on him on a daily basis, but she's looking about the couch right now, as if Z'ian would be the type to hide things somewhere in his couch. "You should practice your hard stare then, definitely looked dirty to me." Z'ian quips back over his shoulder. "Alright, well. This is your one and only chance to get mad at me about it outloud. Forbidden from bringing it up again in six months." He warns, his mouth tugging upwards at the corners as he hunts. Eventually though, he does find it. And just a second shy of becoming really irritated about not finding it. "What have you been investigating?" She's shot a glance over his shoulder before he returns to the couch with a small rectangular box. Quite small. "Yes, it does. I'd wanted to give this to you a few sevens ago. But the day passed and I could wait an entire turn, but. I guess you could say that I'm impatient." He keeps the box held back and snatches the bottle from her, taking another long swallow before handing it back. Perhaps Z'ian misses Jo rolling her eyes to his ultimatum, her arms folding as she says on dirty stares, deadpan, "I guess that's a matter of perspective." Deliberately borrowing his words now. Shaking her head then, "What's the point?" she gives on getting mad at him. "I got mad at ya last time and ya did this. I say I'm mad at ya now...now what? Ya'll go hide-paper both their weyrs? Ya'll have Boreal refuse to do sweeps in the name of justice? Ya'll claim the return of Thread tomorrow would totally be one of their faults? Nah," and she shrugs to that. "But then, ya got what ya wanted, Guess there's no more need for all that rebellion, right? Or is yer next move to push Taikrin out?" Okay, so she is mad, but then, she tends to always show it in sarcasm. She pauses, then moves on to say on investigating, "Those pirates. Special request. Lookin' on them from a bottom-feeder's perspective. Got sacked and kidnapped for it and I'm lookin' for some answers. Whaddya know about High Reaches Hold's new Lord?" Right to the point and glossing over the bad bits, Jo-style. Then her dark gaze falls on the box Z'ian finds, leaning forward to get a better look at it. She lets him have the bottle, nodding towards the box before getting the bottle back. "And where were we to go?" she asks now on this getaway. "When you have children that live in the lower caverns and rely on this weyr to feed and clothe them? The weyr that you've dedicated yourself to for sixteen turns? And someone's pride gets in the way of that for them? In the way of that for you? Then you can come here and give me as many 'hard' looks as you want." Z'ian hands the box over to her, his voice tightly controlled. "And accuse me of being childish. And actually, yes. It is my plan to push Taikrin out. It's always been my plan to push her out. And you're the last person in my life that I should constantly be having to defend myself against." If she does choose to open the box up now after that, she'd find a simple bracelet inside. It has a narrow rectangular band, that's plain on the outside. But there's an inscription on the side that would press against her skin. Just their initials together. It's simple, functional and not flashy. "I don't do this to you." He gets to his feet and brings his hand to his mouth, considering her when that next question comes. "Nothing. I don't know anything about him. He was one of the exiles. They think he killed that girl but there's no proof. He spent a lot of time in Tillek at one point, ah." He's irritated but it's clear he's not completely devoid of information. "He arranged that marriage there, partly." Placing the bottle down on the floor he shakes his head, arms crossing as he stares up at the ceiling. "To that island we went to the first time. Same day. Very romantic." Lips pressed together as Jo remains quiet through much of the first, it's only towards his words of him not doing that to her that she shakes her head and states, "I told'ja ya didn' wanna hear it. I didn' accuse ya of bein' childish. And ya just accused me of pride. Look, whatever. I don' know what ya want me to say. How to say it. Or I shouldn't just say anythin' at all, which was what I was tryin' to do. I don' think we'll ever see eye-to-eye on this, so let's just not. Ya do whatever ya want, there, and I do the same. Ya'll no longer get anythin' from me on that front." Frustration streaks across her features as she gets up from the couch abruptly with the box in hand, listening to the rest on the Lord Holder in dead silence as she takes off the lid and sees the bracelet inside. She studies it first before taking it out and moving it this way and that, noting the inscription within, still in her silence. Finally, "Then ya should find someone easier to love," she states, as a counter to something said, but she's not exactly pointing out which. Meeting his gaze now, "Cuz I ain' easy. I never will be. I'm not gonna always see things yer way, just like ya won't always see things my way. Just like we don' see the Weyr the same way. We likely never will. I like it," she abruptly states on the bracelet, returning her gaze to it. "I like the inside. Ya frustrate me so much sometimes." That gets tacked on, too. "Thanks." For the bracelet. "No, I accused your friends of pride. Not you. You accused me of wanting to 'paper' their weyrs next. If that's not an insinuation of someone being childish, then maybe you should enlighten me on what is? Because coming to my home and giving me looks of disapproval, is just as bad as saying something. Fuck, it might actually be worse." Z'ian shakes his head, the frustration evident with him too. "I have never demanded that you change how you feel about any of this. I don't purposely get in the way of your relationships with them. I don't tell you what to do or ask what you're doing." His fingers dig into his forearms as he sets his attention on some spot across the room. "Find someone easier to love." That last part is just a repeat of what she said to himself. "I could say the same for you. I'm not the only one here picking someone difficult." He unfolds his arms and drops one knee to the couch and puts his hands onto the back of it on either side of her shoulders. "I can take it back. Get that inscribed. Loved by a frustrating man." "Looks or words shouldn' matter at all, if I and my friends are so much in the wrong," Jo is undaunted still. "If yer and yer friends are so right about shit, then what does it matter what I think? It's not like I can do anythin' about it. Like I said. Ya got what ya wanted. It all turned out splendid in the end, didn' it?" She said it. Splendid. She turns on his borrowing of her own words, snorting loudly. "Aren' we a pair? Two stubborn bits from opposite sides of the fence." Dropping back down on the couch before Z'ian was there, arms on either side of her shoulders with that last, "Touch my bracelet and I'll bite yer hand." Lips pull away to reveal those teeth briefly. "And yer are difficult. I already knew that. Still stickin' to what I do and know best." There's a groan that comes from somewhere deep in his throat, maybe even deeper. More like the chest area. "Jolie. We talked about this exact thing the last time we fought about it. Your opinion of me actually matters. You giving me dirty looks is actually upsetting. Not that it's going to stop me from doing anything, because I'm not a man that rolls over. I haven't been that person in a long time and I'm not turning into it again. And I bet, that if I was that person? That just gave in all the time? You'd stop coming back here." Z'ian uses one hand to reach down and cup her chin. "Is that a no? You don't want everyone to know you're in love with a difficult man? And that you took his gift? Does that mean you're going to wear it?" A difficult man that's not above being a little twisty and sneaky to try and get Jo to put his present on. Of course he can't help himself from smiling wolfishly now, a tease coming out, "Sticking to what you do and know best? Is that being a pain in the ass?" Lifting her chin to the first, "Ya haven' even given in the first time," Jo quips to that. "What's this talk about 'givin' in'? As for looks, it was either that or an impulsive punch to the face. Yer tellin' me ya wanted the punch to the face, then? That's what I would've chosen. We could've had a good spar. Nah, ya just wanna drive me crazy, is what." As if the last makes any kind of sense to all she just said before it. That lifted chin gets taken in hand, her look of defiance still etched in her dark gaze, and her expression turns stubborn the more she hears. "Don' ya thin I don' know what yer doin', Zach," she states dryly. "Everyone already knows yer a difficult man," which is likely untrue, "and no one's gonna notice a damn bracelet on my wrist anyway," which is likely untrue, too. "I'm wearin' it," she declares with a glare at him, "cuz it matches the fastenin's on my jacket." Translation: Because I like the bracelet and you gave it to me, in Jo-speak. She snerks on his last about being a pain in the ass, finally collecting up the bottle from the floor and taking a drink. "In yers? Absolutely. It's only fittin' that the feelin's mutual." "Not with you. With other things. You know, in my great and expansive life pre-Jo." Because it was a really exciting time, that's why he talks about it at every chance. Except, wait. "Or maybe a well worded calm discussion. You know, the ones you've been pushing me to have all the time. Or maybe you're just going to paper my weyr when I'm not looking." Z'ian suggests as his grin remains in place, having taken hold again. "Someone might notice you wearing a bracelet. They might even ask where it came from. I mean, I guess you could lie. You could say that you stole it. But then someone might see the inside and then they'd know you're wearing my anniversary present to you. That might be harder to lie about." He is an equally annoying pain in the ass, it's true. "Hmm. Does it now? Funny how that is." Finally he leans in to kiss her quickly inbetween drinks. "Sorry. No, I don't want you to punch me in the face." To the first, "As opposed to yer wacky and crazed life post-Jo?" Jo counters on that, now wry. "Now ya have me curious. Who was the girl that had'ja by the balls?" She flicks fingers to the next involving calm discussions, shaking her head as she says, "Calm, not well-worded," she's not denying it. "That's all over now, so ya got nothin' to worry about. I just might paper yer weyr, though. Somethin' bright and pink, too. Somethin' sparkly. Yer kids would love it." She takes another drink on the subject of the gift, giving Z'ian the eye for his scenarios. "I'll dazzle them with my charms as I explain to them how much the bracelet matches my jacket," she states firmly. Yeah right. "They'll tell me how stylish I am. I'll start a trend. Certain folks already know. Dragons talk. Ya just want me to admit it. Do ya admit me to yer friends? Cuz mine are well aware." Of course, that last has just a whoop of laughter before saying, "Frustratin' man," before that quick kiss between them. "Now, drink. Tell me more about this Reachian Lord." "Exactly." And then there's mention of the old girlfriend that doesn't have a name. Or more like she does have one but he just never says it outloud to her. Z'ian sighs at length and shakes his head, "Oh no. Not tonight. We can talk about the mother of my children on some other day when we didn't just argue." That sigh turns to a groan, "Please don't. The boys are boys and they're over five. The one is almost thirteen now. They'll just laugh at me and I'll never live it down." He twists and falls over onto the couch next to her, "Me? Of course. I don't deny you to anyone." The bronzerider pulls on her arm until he's dragging her down with him. "The Reachian Lord again? Fine, I'll tell you what I know. But isn't a damn lot." |
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