Logs:Dragon Spas
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| RL Date: 8 July, 2016 |
| Who: Jocelyn, Lys, Aidavanth, Evyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Aidavanth is uncomfortable. So is Jocelyn. Lys and Evyth help. |
| Where: Jocelyn's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 22, Month 3, Turn 41 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Jaine/Mentions |
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| Afternoon visits are a special occasion. Though no time is verboten for visiting, it's the nature of the lives of dragonriders-- weyrwomen and wingriders alike-- to be occupied with professional matters from the time the klah kicks in in the morning until the evening meal. It is not unusual for Evyth to reach for her golden sister, but the reason for this brush of her cheerful mind with the usual cacophony of delicious smells and good feelings is out of the ordinary. « If Jocelyn has finished with her meeting, Lys has the afternoon tray from the kitchen, » is a sweetly offered, subtle question of permission for her rider to take up some of her lover's time. There's just the slightest hint of something tart at the edge of Evyth's touch which speaks of a tolerant, private amusement - which probably means whoever Lys got the tray from wasn't wholly willing to surrender it but was "convinced" one way or another. Aidavanth always welcomes contact with sister-and-friend Evyth, and today is little different; certainly, there's an interested ripple that makes to carry the yummy smells and the concept of a treat back to her rider. A reply pings back a short time after, vaguely blurry at the edges as if it's something peered at from above the smooth, layered surfaces of water and glass. « She says Lys should go in and leave the tray on the table. » And a half-second later, to dispel any half-notion that it might be a dismissal: « Jocelyn is going to take a nap and wonders if she'd like to join her. » It carries with it an echo of a memory from the last seven, a flash of candlelight, a pool of clothing left in the doorway, and a view of two pairs of feet from one's owner, who is clearly happy to see them so entwined. Privately, where her rider can't hear: « You should warn Lys. It's been that kind of day. » « Alright, » comes Evyth's easy reply to the first and the last receives an equally private, « Ooh, » of mingled sympathy and understanding. Surely, that message will be passed along. Lys must've already been near with the tray for it doesn't take long for the soft-stepped blonde to slip into Jocelyn's sleeping chamber, no tray in hand, but a single mug, the lid covering over whatever herbs must be steeping in the metal ball with its fine grates to hold in the herbs but release the flavor. Tea is hardly a herald to a reprise of pools of clothing and candlelight, but it probably brings its own sort of comfort to see her appearing with it. It must be her day off for rather than leathers, Lys wears a slouchy, comfortable sweater that fall to mid-thigh and a pair of dark leggings tucked into her sloppily tied boots. Robe half-tied and expression best called peevish, Jocelyn's look of annoyance begins to resolve into weariness once she walks out of the bathing room to see Lys, with tea. "You're wearing too much, " she grumbles while tugging back her sheets to settle underneath them with a grimace, flinging her robe carelessly somewhere off to a corner. "Aidavanth said you were bringing a tray. That is a cup. But you're here, thank Faranth. The mood swings have been worse than usual this month. I all but fired Jaine twice this morning, but she had the good sense not to take me seriously." Her tone is rather plaintive near the end, followed by a softer: "Can you stay a bit? You look - you didn't have duty today, did you." Lys' lips tease into a curl of suppressed amusement paired with the affection she never hides in private for the goldrider. It might be that she finds such peevish looks still endearing. "The tray is out there, on the table," which may not be the table intended, but, "I thought you might like to start with tea." Only the necessity of putting down the steeping beverage to free her hands delays the blonde in approaching the redhead, her warmed hands rising to cup her face and kiss her lightly before her fingertips take a meandering route down her neck and shoulders with relaxing strokes and light massaging. "I can stay. Day off. And I promise not to take you seriously should you decide to all but fire me while I'm here," she adds the gentle but bright tease before angling to enfold Jocelyn in her arms for some moments. Any disagreeable noise Jocelyn may make in the beginnings of another mutter gets swiftly silenced once Lys's warm hands and light kiss find their target, and the redhead's eyes stay shut during the other rider's gentle ministrations. They open again, bluer and softer for her company as she leans into the embrace with a little sigh. "Can't fire you anyway, " she half-mumbles into the greenrider's shoulder, tilting her head after a moment to brush her lips against her lover's neck once, twice. "I'm glad you're here, lovely. I've been feeling so, " fidget, "restless. I tried going for a run before going on duty this morning, but that wasn't quite, " and she concludes her thought with a sheepish shrug, letting her hands wander instead up and down her companion's back to finish her sentence. "I'll be relieved when my courses begin and all of this settles down." Outside on the ledge, Aidavanth shifts in a similar fidget to mirror her lifemate's, hide still gleaming with this morning's oiling as she takes off toward the lake. « I still seem to feel somewhat itchy, » she tells Evyth with all the sensation of a frown to accompany her statement. « I'd ask Jocelyn for more oil, but she's finally starting to relax for the first time today now that Lys is here. I don't want to bother her just now. » The cool water will have to suffice for the moment. Evyth's imagination is a powerful thing and when fuelled by Aidavanth's problem, it readily runs wild. « Ooh, you know what Jocelyn should have them do? She should have them take an empty weyr and use the wallow to just fill it with oil so we can soak, like in the hot springs, but with oil. And not hot. » This is all her usual pell-mell ramble of thought, finished with a bright, sweet something in scent and flavor that likely signifies a mental smile. « Would you like to go to the hot spring? » It isn't so far that they couldn't go while their riders are busy, after all, and perhaps better than the lake given the temperature difference. "Could," is Lys' protest to Jocelyn's words about firing, but there's no force or pursuit behind the word, letting it slide away with whatever other heavier concerns might face them in the wide world to focus on the world that exists just between them and just between these stone walls (and those of her weyr). "There's only so much a run can do," holds light humor, a sympathetic smile showing her understanding of the rest. "Do you want to eat a little something before we-" she just trails off, arching a suggestive eyebrow at the redhead, smirk playing across her lips. They've been together long enough now that one way or another, Lys knows a thing or two about relieving familiar restlessness, if it is, indeed, familiar restlessness. « An oil wallow, » echoes Aidavanth, and something pleased uncurls under her bobbing thoughts, stretches and darts after the idea in a flash of orange-gold. « What a good suggestion! That would feel so good. » There's a brief hesitation somewhere in there, because surely there are logistics to consider in building such a luxurious, draconic spa-like environment - but it's gone moments after, particularly once she seizes upon her sister's plan to head for the hot springs. « Why not? » follows blithely as she changes course. « And if that doesn't settle the itch, I'll go in the lake afterward. » The best of both worlds! Nearly mirroring the expressions of her lifemate, Jocelyn seems pleased by Lys's suggestion, making to gather her toward her again without preamble (they have such good ideas, Lys and Evyth!) - but for the sudden gleam of interest that lights up her blue eyes. "I'd take you to Ista right this second and indulge in both at the same time, " she says shamelessly with a little nuzzle, "but our transports seem to have other ideas." She doesn't laugh outright after flopping down onto her back with a lithe stretch, but the desire to do so is written on her face, where it lingers for a long minute before wavering. A small frown appears, tugging briefly at the corners of her mouth. "And then she'll want to be oiled again after all of that. There goes what I thought I might have of my evening." Instinctively, she reaches for Lys's hand, tugging to encourage the greenrider into a horizontal position, too. "What does that wingleader of yours have you doing tomorrow?" It's a matter-of-fact enough inquiry, even if what her hands quest to do is anything but. Brilliant notions for dragon spas are held only a breath longer by the green, a flight of fancy for Evyth to brightly reflect upon rather than the sort of dream she might actually help root, grow and bloom. The hot spring is as pleasing to her, but then, she doesn't have an itch just now. Lys has a soft laugh that becomes quickly but briefly muffled as she lets herself be pulled down half-atop the goldrider, her face pressing into the blankets by Jocelyn's neck briefly. "Don't be too put out. We have now," is offered as silver lining for the fate of the redhead's night, and dismissively, "It's probably raining in Ista, whereas it's perfectly comfortable here." About to be more than comfortable, judging by the way the blonde shifts to press her lips teasingly to Jocelyn's neck. "You don't know for sure that it - is, " and Jocelyn's affectionate retort ends on a communicative sigh. Now is apparently good, and more than comfortable, better still, as she holds Lys fast and lets her hands wander where they will. The hot spring is nice, but not quite enough. And yet, Aidavanth is pleased to have her smaller sister's company, seemingly content to while away the next hour or two with chatter and amusement despite occasional bouts of distraction. Certainly, she's all enthusiasm when it's time to go back for another oiling, however short the resultant satiation. |
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