Logs:Escape to Southern
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| RL Date: 23 May, 2014 |
| Who: Aishani, N'rov |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Shani visits N'rov at Southern for some time away from the cold. She tells him a bit about her work with Jo. |
| Where: Southern Weyr |
| When: Day 15, Month 11, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Warm and awesome. |
| Mentions: E'dre/Mentions, Grumaien/Mentions, Hattie/Mentions, I'kris/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Jo/Mentions, M'kris/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, Oriane/Mentions, Rajiv/Mentions, R'hin/Mentions, Zahra/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated. |
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| Autumn back at Fort, autumn at High Reaches, it's springtime at Southern and the jungle is in bloom; it's a fragrant backdrop to where they sit, the Weyr downwind, the ocean before them and the tide rolling in. The familiar rock against which N'rov leans, 'their' rock, is above the waterline, at least; he toys with one of Shani's curls as she reclines against his chest, winding it, unwinding it, more or less as the waves roll in and out. The tide's coming in, and then it will leave again. Soon enough, he'll leave too. He doesn't say anything for some time longer; eventually, though, he whispers, "Awake?" Autumn at High Reaches means nothing good, really, just rain and rain and mud and more rain. Southern certainly has the better weather and better scenery, so despite general dislike of the whole arrangement, Aishani has deigned to visit often enough. Enough to have a rock to lay claim to, enough to be comfortable on it, on N'rov. Her eyes are closed, long lashes dark against her cheek, and the rhythm of the waves certainly put Iesaryth to sleep, further away on the sand - so it's not impossible she's dozing. Even so, that whisper brings a low murmur, affirmative, "Mmm." Mostly. Whereas autumn at Fort has rain and mud and cooking in tents and, worse, no booze to survive it with... at least, none that's publicly available. N'rov could hope that by the time he gets back the liquor will be back too, or else that the addicts have either gotten over their grumpiness or found another way to cope; as is, though, it may well be out of sight and out of mind. He's busy. "'Mmm'-hmm." Busy lounging with his girl, not-so-busily adding onto her murmur, lazily amused. It seems Vhaeryth's welcome to stay the most active one of them, for the moment not napping nor flying but instead swimming, a barely-visible fleck of fiery bronze in the distant deeps. "Your turn." Perhaps its his imminent return to Fort, so currently beleaguered, or maybe it's something Shani's been considering for a little while now, but speaking of liquor and other precious goods; "I was wondering if I might suggest my family head out Fort way before settling somewhere for the winter. It's not exactly free supplies, but..." It's something? She doesn't bother opening her eyes to suggest it, though, tone still weighted with something close to sleep - Iesaryth dragging her under. Eventually, she tilts her head up to barely lift her lids, dark eyes glinting. "I'd hate to have you live in deprivation." Not that she wants him sticking around here either. "If they profit," is N'rov's one requirement; he winds, unwinds, always sliding in the direction to smooth that curl instead of making it frizz. His chuckle is low. "Suppose that's understood, but just in case you're feeling a little too charitable. Which isn't to say gouging." If that head-tilt makes it easier for him to dangle the curl over her nose instead, he's fine with that too. "Save it for Fort Hold. In the meantime, I appreciate your consideration for my not stumbling around, slat-ribbed, searching for crumbs, poetic though it would undoubtedly be." Shani only has a snort for that, as if she wouldn't even make the offer otherwise. It surely can't come out of the goodness of her heart, black and cold as it is. As for the frizzing, well. N'rov is but a man. He can only do so much. "I would never be so charitable as to have a precarious position made more so. Things aren't precisely perfect yet, just... good." She's vague, as she tends to be about her business - there's been the odd time that she's seemed like she might be willing to explain more over the last few months, but she hasn't, not yet. "Fort Hold can afford it. And I wouldn't find you nearly as attractive that way." That snort gets the curl tweaked. And it's true, N'rov isn't the boss of humidity... most of the time. His voice drier than the weather, "Shani, Shani. Will you ever count them as perfect?" Whether due to the eternal possibility of getting even better, or the threat of tempting fate. "Though I will say that I'm glad that version would be less attractive. You do have your ways of making things happen, and worse, you might even convince me to enjoy it." The tweaked curl has her nose wrinkling. "Isn't it good to have high standards? Ambition? And I don't know how to explain..." Shani's lips curve into a wry smile, wondering, "How much do you want to know about what I do when I'm not making nice at the Weyr? I tell myself that I don't want to worry you or cause you problems, but maybe I'm just avoiding the discussion." And over a sigh, "I haven't done anything major or shocking in ages. Though I'm glad I have that kind of power." She lifts a lazy hand to pull him closer for a kiss, so she doesn't have to stretch allllll that way herself. "Those are a given," N'rov points out, and dabbles the end of the curl just above her nose, not quite touching that wrinkle that (contrary to aunties' advice) hasn't frozen yet. It wouldn't dare. It's after the kissing, which conveniently causes him to release the curl-hostage and maybe that was her plan all along, that he looks down at her again from bare inches' distance. "Nothing major or shocking and you still think I'd worry? Now you'd better tell me. Otherwise I'll worry about the worrying," or just kiss her some more, which he proceeds to do. It may not help the actual telling, but a man's got to do what a man's got to do... even if he can't conquer frizz. It hasn't caused her any wrinkles yet either, but who knows about later? Aishani doesn't mind taking her time about the kissing, but she has to sigh again, a bit dramatically as she points out, "It's not as if I have plans to say, take over the Weyr, or a Weyr, though it's not for lack of looking for options. As for the rest..." she trails off, perhaps to consider her words, but it's all too easy to distract her with more kissing. That's better than worrying him. More possible wrinkles. There's a low chuckle that speaks to options; distraction proceeds apace, and then N'rov's thoroughly unsubtle about wrapping his arms around his girl, nudging her sideways as though to lean her onto the sand-shielding blanket. Only, it's really just to kiss the hollow of her neck and then say, "All right, woman. Out with it." Which may be easy for him to say, but while relaxing on Southern Weyr's shining coast, surely it's safe from obvious repercussions... or if not, they can see them coming. Shani has a long, soft contented sound for the distraction, for his arms around her, even if all of it only leads to that kiss. She's happy to slide her arms around N'rov in return, lean in close to breathe him in. There's time. "It's not one thing," she begins, cautious. "And it's not just me involved. My family, Jo... the people that Jo works with sometimes." Dark eyes open again slowly, and she looks up at him seriously, for all that her fingers have started to run through his hair. "Jo and I worked some things out between her people and mine, obviously. We've been helping them out from Reaches, and we've pulled a couple people in. Trying to keep things circumspect." Small. Which probably doesn't sit well with her. N'rov must realize his hold of his not-unwilling captive has tightened, for he loosens it just enough to give her breathing room, tipping his head so she can better reach the dark fuzz. Jo. Yes. "People you can trust." Whether she actually does or not. Small might sit better with him, at least when it strengthens circumspection. Though she doesn't complain at the way his hold tightens around her, Aishani does let out a breath as he eases a little, fingers light as they move slowly. There's a nod. "People we can trust to do what they're doing, at least. Some know what they need to know and not much else." Leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead, she lingers there for a moment before, "It was a good deal for both sides. There's things we can pass on to reduce the risks on the ground." A pause. "Should I go on?" "'Need' is such an interpretable word," N'rov says wryly; if he's been one of those same people, he doesn't seem to consider himself circumvented. "'Risks on the ground' sounds suitably ominous. Yes, go on." Despite his words, no cloud moves over the sun; it remains a sunny, shiny day. A shipfish even leaps dramatically in the distance, and if it's because Vhaeryth's chasing it, he's ducked quickly beneath the waves again. Careful, "Sometimes, it's better not to know what's going where and why. Or why we need what information." Shani shrugs a little, as if all of that is really nothing to worry about. Nor are 'risks on the ground', by her tone. With a smirk, "Who wants to get caught at the wrong time?" Or get caught period. The chasing might be the reason Iesaryth stirs on the sand, though she hasn't yet lifted her head. Her rider: "I don't know that there's much more to it." "Deniability." N'rov, intimately familiar with that word, causes that summary to stand in a long moment of silence. He regards what he can see of her expression, then, and chooses the opposite of circumlocution. "What I want to know is what risks you, Aishani Vijay, are taking. I don't think you could ever be nondescript. Not as a sweaty candidate coming empty-handed off those Sands, and certainly not now." "I tend to prefer letting you have that, if possible," Shani murmurs, somewhat apologetically. She's as composed as usual, though faintly concerned; a frown that deepens when he looks toward her and she turns to meet his gaze. There's a faint smile for his last, one that only fades into seriousness to give the matter at hand weight. "I don't have to be. I don't take many meetings. I don't do much directly. If it all comes undone, then..." She shrugs a bit helplessly. "Then, I don't know what will happen. I've worked to build alliances and they all haven't worked out perfectly, but there's always options." Wryly, "I'm risking being what everyone thinks I am, my father's daughter." "'Believability' might be a different story," N'rov says, wry in his own turn. "While it amuses me to play your empty-headed lackey from time to time, we both know how durable it isn't over the long term. As for alliances," he stops, less distracted than focusing elsewhere. "Forget all those people thinking whatever they think, Shani. Tell me a way, three ways if you can, you're proud to be like him right now. Shells, your mother too; I don't even have rumor about her." With a wrinkle of her nose, "Why is it so hard to believe that I could hide something from you? I did it for long enough." Aishani's offended that her skill or resolve are underestimated, apparently. N'rov's request has her arching fine brows, obviously curious for the reason, but content to go along with him for now. "I've always been proud to be who I am. I have my father's determination and my mother's head for numbers and costs, and I could go on, I will go on if you want, but why do you ask?" "You were hiding a lot, but not who you really were," N'rov says, his baritone rich and warm and affectionate, which of course means that then he has to clear his throat. Luckily, there's no one else here to see him doting in quite this way, or her permitting it. "I suppose I'm asking because you bring him up with what they say about him, and I wanted to hear what you'd say. That got me thinking about your mother, because I figure she had to be important for you too." If less notorious. "Even hid that for awhile," Aishani murmurs, though in the the grand scheme of things, it's not actually that long. And she'll allow it, while there's no one around to see how easily she curls into that comfort, her sigh soft. Brushing dark curls from darker eyes, she notes, "I only bring up what they say about him because it's what they say about me now, what they were going to anyway. I'm just not getting caught." Says her. She's quiet for a moment before smiling faintly. "My mother was also an excellent salesman. She never taught me to cook because she wasn't all that good at it either." "If you say so," says N'rov, indulgent before his voice drops into seriousness. "Keep it up with the not getting caught. I hope you won't risk more than you have to. No... frying pans exploding in your face, or ovens either. Do you think anyone ever tried to teach her?" Not quite as serious, that. "More than I have to. Isn't that in the eye of the beholder. I won't push it at least, and you know I can take care of myself if I need to. I just thought I ought not to hide it from you, and I doubt any of my cousins would think to. I'd just rather you stay out of it." Shani's nose wrinkles again. "I won't have it said I led you astray. More astray. My aunt tried to teach her, tried to teach me too. Nothing exploded, just burned. Good thing I can just have people bring me food, yes?" 'More astray,' right then N'rov smirks. "Give me some credit for going astray of my own accord, in one direction or another." Yet again, though, there's that drift back into seriousness after he's assured, "Incredibly good, since you haven't developed a taste for things charred." He smooths one of those curls out of her eyes for her. "So what specifically do you think you shouldn't be hiding from me, this time?" With her own smirk, "Don't worry. I give you credit, and if I don't, I'm sure your Weyrleaders will be happy to." At least there's two people who wouldn't think anything N'rov did was Aishani's fault. She closes her eyes as his fingers push back those errant curls, tilting her chin up to catch them to kiss the tips. "Mm. Not as much, no. And I suppose I thought I shouldn't be hiding my business from you. Enough that I don't need to tell you not to ask about it." Or likely, so if something happens, he'll know who to ask about it. "Don't forget the Weyrsecond," N'rov says cheerfully. "He'd pile on so much, not even N'muir would recognize me." He taps his fingers on her lower lip, then lets them rest there, evidently unworried about whether he might tempt her to bite. "Keep going. What, did you think I'd turn you in? Or that they'll go after me with hot iron where I really wouldn't like it?" "Ah, yes. Can't forget him. Between the three, I'm not sure what would be left of you." Shani doesn't bite quite yet, but she does give those fingers another kiss as she considers N'rov, his questions, the skies above his head, still blue and bright. With a look, "How can you ask that, did I think you'd turn me in. No, I just thought... it was a good idea to let you know. In case there's ever a reason it matters." "My teeth, maybe. A bone or two to send back to you." N'rov flexes his fingers as though deciding which. "All right. It shouldn't ever matter, and if we can't reach each other than something really, really bad has gone down," his free arm tightens reflexively around her here, "but if it does come to that. Who would know? Your Jo?" Shifting onto her side, pillowing her head on her bent arm, "I don't know if the bone or the teeth is better." Aishani stretches out a long leg, languidly hooking it over his, sliding around him. Nodding, "There shouldn't be any point Iesaryth doesn't know. But if she's confused or can't sort it out... Jo. My family. But it won't matter." She's firm on that before leaning in for a brief kiss, admitting, "I don't like to hide things like that from you either. What I'm doing." Not that N'rov isn't distracted by that leg of hers, but, "At least you can have the bone carved into something. A spoon, maybe. Or a hairclip? A hilt for a knife? Teeth only make a necklace, or maybe earrings." He kisses the nearest ear in question. "Good. Anything else you want to confess, or are we done?" The aforementioned teeth close over that same lobe. "I like your teeth - and the rest of you - right where it all is." Literally, probably, by the way Shani sighs and slides in close. Closer. "Are we done?" she echoes, arching fine brows, amused. "Are we going somewhere? Are we on a schedule?" Though her tone is light, and the fingers of her free hand have found their way into what little hair he does have. "Yes. A very rigid schedule." N'rov adds a dramatic pause somewhere in there. "First we see the local Lord for brunch," despite its being hours late for that, "and then the Masterweaver for your fitting," if Grumaien specializes far more in politics and even tapestries than fashionable women's wear, they can make do, "and then something else similarly exciting... or we can just stay here." "I do have a fitting," Shani notes - isn't that a shock - "But I think brunch is a forgone conclusion. Not today, by the way. The fitting." Her fingers drift from his hair, down his neck to his collar, just beneath it. "If it's up to me, I'd rather just stay here while we have an excuse. Also, I don't know that Iesaryth is moving anytime soon." The queen is again dozing, her earlier brief attempt at consciousness past. He starts to sit further up at her first reference, then relaxes with a quiet huff of a laugh. "Of course you do. Of course she isn't." N'rov's glance towards her sleepy queen is warm with affection. Just watch, Vhaeryth will keep swimming for now and nap later. "Then we'll stay here. Up for going for a walk? See what the sea's thrown back to the shore," before it takes it back again. Tone both wounded and warning, though not at all serious, "Don't mock me. Or her. Maybe we won't come back till you go home and then where will you be?" Not that N'rov's there much longer, but. Of course, Aishani can't help but ask, since they're on the subject, "When do you go back?" To her credit, she hasn't asked that much. The idea of a walk has her looking down the beach, slowly unwinding herself from around him. "Mmm. Find me something pretty." "Sitting on the beach in the sunshine and drinking," N'rov promptly tells her, "until it gets too hot and then sitting in the shade." For the moment, he waits for her to get up rather than hurrying her up. "I'll go for as pretty as the beach will give me. Plan was, I was supposed to go back sometime soon... but that was before the fire. Now Fort's kitchens still aren't up to speed and there's hardly any food and people are starving," which might be his own exaggeration but also might be what his wingmates tell people when they come here to mooch. "But without anyone to pretend you're funny or otherwise stroke your ego." Shani doesn't quite pause enough to make that an entendre, but it's a near thing. Smirking, she first sits up to run her hands through tousled curls, then pushes to her feet. She'd abandoned her shoes sometime ago, and doesn't look for them now. Arching brows, "Starving? Or is it more or less bad like it was when all those ungrateful fucking Holders decided I wasn't worth tithing to?" Because it really all had to do with her personally. "If things are all that bad, you can always stay with me. We just have a whole other wing to feed, what's one more person?" "I do like my ego being stroked," N'rov will affably admit. "That's the sort of thing you're much, much better at doing than, say... E'dre." He grins at her as he gets up, then moves seamlessly into stretching out his hamstrings one at a time. It saves her from getting a sideways look until he's switched legs. His voice dry now, "Not like you're taking it personally or anything, all this time later. So what's really up with this other wing? We heard rumors," but he's counting on Aishani to have the real dirt. As dry as he is, "What a surprise." It could go for both what N'rov likes and Shani's good at, by her tone. Her expression souring - though she'll soften it into something closer to a pout for him, here - "Why shouldn't I? No one's kicked up a fuss now that I'm gone, no one at the Weyr is doing anything stupid... I can't see that as entirely coincidental." She shakes her head, arms folding loosely as she digs toes into the sand. "None of them look happy and they're from Monaco, so reason would seem to dictate that if it's a decision they made, it was forced. The new Weyrleader is the father of Iolene's murderer, and I know that he and R'hin... have issues." She's too far away; he can't actually take his life into his hands by reaching over to wobble that lower lip of hers with his thumb, though for a moment N'rov's eyeing her pout like he's thinking about it. "Maybe they're tired of doing stupid things. Maybe they're bored by stupid things. Maybe they got smart," and here he smirks, "or they know that it's not you so they don't have to be worried about finding themselves under your thumb before they could blink twice. Shells, maybe it's the wrong time of the... season." Though, "I don't know much about the man beyond what you've said of him, but that doesn't make him out to be all placid and amiable and friendly," so maybe issues are par for the course. There's a narrowed 'don't even' look for what he might be considering, but Shani can't quite manage to get to annoyed while eyeing him. "Maybe," she can concede, eventually, "But it's irritating." Starting down the beach, she comes close enough to lean a shoulder into N'rov's briefly, arms still folded as she walks. "It's true, I can't say I know of any particular allies the man had, though he must have some. I think I'm going to go talk to Oriane. See what I can find out and try to have a Weyrwoman other than Hattie that can stand me." Though she sounds grateful for Hattie, at least. N'rov keeps his stride easy to match out of habit, though it's not as though she's wearing heels on the beach. "Good." He walks further, gaze distant until he looks back at her. "You said once that his father screwed him up." M'kris, I'kris. "That doesn't sound like the sort of man where she'd rest easy, though I suppose it's possible he'd be better around her." His meal ticket, after all. Shani's not her usual purposeful self, not while they're just asking down the sand with no plans to hurry her stride. "You think it's a good idea? Or you just want to know what I find out?" She's watching him and that distant look curiously, but just nods at the question. "Yes. But it's difficult to tell, with her. She could have blamed him for what I'kris did, but she closed ranks. I'm not sure if that's due to a relationship, or just maintaining a united front. An image of stability, that's important to her, I think." "The first one is what I meant, but," N'rov tips her an invisible hat, "definitely also the second." With that, he's back to watching where he's going, slowing when they near a promising-looking bit of iridescence... that just turns out to be a broken piece of whitish shell and some slime. At least they don't step in it? "People do like to believe in images," he says wryly. "How are you with your wingleaders, these days?" With a wicked smile, "I'll trade you for anything interesting." Aishani is glad to avoid the slime even if it means there's nothing nice for her. With a wrinkle of her nose - gross - she sighs. "They do. It makes things simple. People like things to be easy, not complex." She toes at a rock buried in the sand, but it isn't anything special. "Fine. There's certainly some that are more inclined to like me than others - though I haven't been making a particular effort to make any of them change their minds, either. Why?" "Interesting to you or interesting to me?" N'rov asks with a cocked brow to go with his smirk. "No, never mind. Just remember I drive a hard bargain." But a few steps later, he finds a more promising rock and draws a circle around it with his toe, no charge. "It seems like the other weyrwomen are external support, but until you get out of there, why not add more internal." Innocently, "Isn't anything interesting to me interesting to you? Do you not care about my interests?" Shani's expression is totally serious, but her dark eyes are bright. Suddenly flashing a grin, "And I'll hold you to that." Glancing between N'rov and the rock before she'll bend to unearth it with her fingers, tips of her curls getting wet in the sand, "You think I should stop hating everyone and being miserable." "Never. That's why I always talk about me and only me," N'rov says affably. "The way it should be. While you listen adoringly on bended knee. See?" Now that he's done rhyming, and in fact has moved his toes so they aren't quite so crushable a target should she get happy with the rock, "It's a crazy thought, I know." Shani has to give a snort, though she is crouched low now to dig in the sand, flipping dark locks back to look up at him. "I obviously missed that last time that happened," she says dryly, though she examines the rock and offers it up to him with sandy fingers for inspection before straightening; it's smooth and round, but has little else to recommend it. After watching him for a moment, she admits, "I want too many things. And I don't know how not to be angry." N'rov shrugs, sympathetic for what must be her tragic memory loss, before bending to look at the rock; it is however her hand that he reaches for, sand and all. As they continue along the shore, "Does it feel like you'd be letting him down, if you focused on other things?" She'll let the rock go, but not his hand, twining long fingers through his. "I don't know," she says, with a sidelong glance his way. "Maybe. I don't know what else to focus on. How to be..." She trails off, can't find the word, so just shrugs. 'Normal'. Lifting joined hands, she brushes a kiss to the back of his, lips lingering there before, "If I've been miserable to you, I apologize." Though N'rov tightens his hand about hers for a moment in response, he otherwise shrugs that last away, focusing on what she'd said earlier. "What does your family think? Would any of your aunties give you advice," and he glances sideways at her, mouth curling, "that you actually think is worth listening to? Or," this requires even more thought, but at least it leads them further down the beach. Finally, "Shells," with a smirk for the decent shell they haven't found yet. "Give yourself a challenge one day, take ten people you run into and find something to like about each of them and tell me later what it is. I dare you." Only a little defensively, "I like my aunts. They raised me, as much as I could be raised, I suppose." Shani is a bit shifty at his sideways look though, admitting slowly, "I did not, have not always listened, though. It's possible that I've... not wanted to bother them. I got used to not bothering them. Or feeling like asking them advice would be bothering them. My problems have seemed-- less important." Matching his smirk with one of her own, "Ten people. Let's not get carried away here. I don't know if I deign to speak to ten people in a day." Lies. "Of course you haven't," N'rov says indulgently; he might even be disappointed were it otherwise. Still, "They might appreciate being asked, after all this time. Consider giving it a try? Since you aren't up for my dare," this with a meaningful look since (for their mutual entertainment) he's taking her lies at face value. Aishani gives him a look of her own, though it's without much of an edge, lips quirking. "You don't sound surprised, for some reason. And I suppose they might at that. I didn't say I wasn't up for it either." She swings their hands between them as they walk, considering her logic. "It's just an awful lot of people to find something to like in. Then I might start going around liking people generally, and where would we be." "You don't sound surprised that I don't sound surprised," says N'rov with no further surprise of his own, just another curling smile as they swing their way along. Not only that, after a glance over his shoulder back at their footprints, "I'd like to think we'd be walking along a beach. Maybe even this one." Lightly, "I suppose you might know me a little. I hope I'm not all that predictable." What she does next might be though, with the way she looks at him after that smile; she uses the momentum of her backswing to pull him in toward her for a long kiss, pausing in those footprints. "Find me something pretty and I'll thank you for it before I go." Because she does have to go, sooner than later, as reluctant as she may be. "Now that's incentive." N'rov suits actions to words, casting his girl a quick grin before returning her hand to her and loping down the beach to pillage a tide pool. Not the first one, not even the third one, but eventually he'll find the right treasure to bring back; it might even be before the tide comes in. (For his next trick, no doubt he'll take her for a ride on one of those immense Southern felines. Bareback.) |
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