Logs:Fading

Fading
"I won't go like that."
RL Date: 4 September, 2015
Who: Jo, R'hin
Involves: High Reaches Weyr
Type: Log
What: During Roszadyth's morning flight, R'hin calls to break some devastating news to Jo.
Where: A Tavern, Honshu area
When: Day 25, Month 9, Turn 38 (Interval 10)

Mentions: Torani/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Bristia/Mentions

OOC Notes: Angst. Sad angst. (Feel free to edit!)


R'hin hasn't been around much at all in the last seven; Leiventh, as reserved as usual, is perhaps more obtuse than even normal for him. Today is no difference; but this time his encompassing of Tacuseth is abrupt, no subtle approaches, just a sudden, brilliantly toned image. The sea is blue, brilliantly reflecting the sun to an almost painful amount of light; clouds form distinct, unnatural patterns, and the air is heated as if it were the height of summer, causing a shimmering view of the building below. The image is -- not quite right -- certainly not an image to be used for betweening to, and yet it's recognizable in a distant way as a seaside tavern in Honshu's coverage area. Tacuseth is on his ledge when the image hits him abruptly, sending it to his lady as he immediately prepares for flight. As for Jo, she was pretty much dress already with the strong feelings of one glowing gold in the Weyr. Getting away now was the best time before it became too late, and so the bluepair suddenly find themselves winking in over Honshu, the sun beating down on them as they wing in for a landing far from the tavern in viewing. It takes a moment for Jo to push through the entrance without her black leather jacket, her scars in proud display under her white tank top and mussed up black hair. She takes in the tavern with narrowed eyes, searching. The image wasn't wrong in one respect; it's fairly hot, though the shimmering of Leiventh's image isn't quite as pronounced, nor is the brightness reflecting off the ocean. The bronze can be seen, high up, and when Tacuseth arrives, he is intently, unusually present, sharing the sensation of the heat of the air, the brightness of the sky. Inside, by contrast, it's dark, a fact undoubtedly appreciated by the scattering of locals here and there, talking in low voices. There, up in the corner furthest from the bar, R'hin's slumped kind of oddly in his chair, half a pitcher of beer still waiting attention on the table. Tacuseth, once depositing Jo, takes to the sky again to land near Leiventh. His shadows become a marked presence to the bronze, drinking in the heat of the day as his rider enters the tavern. She finds R'hin easily enough through the hum of the patrons there, and only passing those few a scant look here and there, she makes it over to his table and she drops into a chair opposite of his. "R'hin," she greets, her open concern laid bare in her face as she watches him. Leiventh moves, not in an obvious way, but with a restlessness rather unlike the bronze, settling into a new position as if to accommodate Tacuseth. Was he sleeping, faking, other? Any is just as likely with R'hin; hearing his name snaps his eyes open immediately. "Mm?" Pale eyes stare at Jo for a moment with a lack of recognition: "Leiv--" he begins, and stops again, shifting his weight in an oddly reminiscent echo of Leiventh. "Drink," he waves towards the pitcher, with an easy, well-practiced equanimity. Tacuseth, once settled, seems to keep his gaze on both the big bronze and the sky around them. He joins the silence, his wings snapped back - but it's likely something has passed between rider and dragon since what comes out Jo's mouth is a quick, "Leiventh?" She catches that look, dark eyes cutting towards the pitcher briefly in acknowledgement of it. "How long ya been here?" she asks now, only after that choosing to reach for a cup and then the pitcher to fill it. "I don't--" the denial comes by habit, and ends with an honest, "--know," a fact of which is apparently a source of amusement for the bronzerider, if the low-throated chuckle that follows is any indication. R'hin pushes his own glass forward, as if asking for a refill, while one hand drags through his hair. Perhaps in other circumstances he'd come up with some excuse, blow it off, but instead, he leans an elbow on the table, and studies Jo in silence instead. "Ya don'," comes as more of a question than a statement, Jo filling her cup first before R'hin's laughter has her brows furrowing. Reaching to refill his, "What's wrong, darlin'?" she asks him now as she pours. "Ya can tell Jo, ya know. If there's somethin' or someone I need to beat up..." because, it always result to that, right? She nudges his cup forward, back to him, and then mirrors his elbow before staring back at him and taking a drink. "If only it were that easy," comes R'hin's droll response. "I'd have called you in a Turn ago." He reaches for his glass, and when she drinks, he does, too. The fact that there's a slight unevenness that makes the liquid slosh around could well be attributed to the fact that he's already consumed a good half of the pitcher's contents, but then, holding his drink was never the bronzerider's problem. The glass is set down, and then he leans forward, murmuring: "I trust you," and there's a pause that might imply but, though it goes unnvoiced. Instead, after a beat, he says, "Greenfields?" with a lilt of a question at the end. "Still time," according to Jo, in her book as she sips. "I ain' goin' anywhere." When R'hin leans forward, his words on trust draws a genuine grin from her. She looks to say something, perhaps to the same effect, but she's well versed to hear the unvoiced word, and that one spoken word has that grin ebbing away as she returns to her drink. The silence is lengthy, her dark gaze flicking up to his from her cup before she murmurs, "Accident." A grimace ripples across the bronzerider's features at her initial response, with no attempt to hide it. R'hin waits out the silence, his pale gaze on her, exhaling at that single word. It's hard to tell whether it's relief, or something else. Instead, after a moment: "I have people looking into it. It's expected." A beat. "It's K'del," with a certain emphasis, like it matters, personally, to him. "It's expected," Jo agrees on people looking into it. The words are heavy, conveying more than what's said. After a moment, "He won' ever be touched again," she states it like it's a vow, her dark gaze hard on R'hin's. She understands. More gets unsaid in between, the rock in a hard place she's been placed in. An apology in the air for her part in it. If it were anyone else... "I'll see to that. I hear he's recoverin'. Have ya gone to visit him?" Pale gaze meets her dark, steady until she utters that vow. "Good," R'hin says, after a pause. "I'll hold you to that," as if he reads that tone as a promise, another of those odd expressions chasing across his face. "Yes," he says, but he doesn't linger on the subject, as if he takes her at her word. He lifts his glass, but doesn't raise it more than an inch before he stops it back onto the table. "I'll hold myself to it," Jo states, some of the tension releasing from her shoulders on a barely-there exhale. "Keep me posted on what ya find," 'if ya find anything', goes unsaid. It doesn't need to be between them. She seems to fortify herself with a drink of beer, draining her cup before she reaches for another refill. Dark eyes cut over in time to see R'hin finish his own before she notes aloud, "Somethin' else is wrong." It's not a question. After a moment of regard, R'hin nods in acquiescence to that request, like he owes her that much. "Yes," he replies simply to her guess. His gaze flickers towards the others in the tavern; the locals are busy with their own, and the barkeep is counting marks. "But I don't know how to explain," he says, in an abrupt expression of low-voiced frustration. His fingers curl, as he leans back in his chair. There's a slow incline of her head as Jo regards R'hin steadily, answering that nod. She doesn't say anything else on that, seeming to put it to rest in favor of another. She shifts in her chair, following the line of his gaze. To that frustration, "Start from the beginnin', darlin'," she says simply, her focus back on him. Her concern more prominent now. The start. It makes R'hin frown. "Do you remember Torani? Benden weyrwoman?" "I vaguely recall," Jo does tries, the frown present as she slowly shakes her head. "Heard of her since I've been at the Weyr. "She someone ya deal with?" "She was..." R'hin's lips press together, and he glances at the glass, but doesn't touch it. "When I first met her, she was a strong woman, who turned into an even stronger Weyrwoman. At the end, she, no -- Yuraveth was more affected. I think the whole Weyr felt it. Viyareth tried to keep it under control, but..." the explanation lacks eloquence, and that fact is apparently notable to the bronzerider, who exhales a breath of frustration. "She would forget things. Names. Memories. What the time was. What she was doing." This is clearly something Jo hasn't heard about, and it shows on her face. Her cup touches the surface, seeming to try and piece together it all as she nods a few times. "But, dragon memories aren' all that long to begin with. Yer sayin'....it can get worse?" Silence falls then, but she's not done. Studying his pale eyes, "What happened to her?" she asks then. "Dragons rely on riders for memory. If a rider is confused, or can't image clearly..." R'hin doesn't have to explain what happens. "But memory is less important, or at least it always seemed that way, since dragons don't remain memories for long. Most of what a dragon does is ingrained habit. Torani," he grimaces. "She grew less and less her, until she was a shell. I'm not even sure she recognized her own son, in the end. It was a mercy when she passed." This requires a deep draught from his glass, draining the remainder. Jo listens, nodding here and there to something said. "So it started with her," she says, still frowning - still looking at him. "Her dragon followed suit. Shit. How did she die?" To get all angles of this, perhaps, as she reaches over to get the pitcher for him. "Slowly. Losing pieces herself, like a tree scattering leaves. Eventually she just... faded." R'hin's voice is full of emotion; remembered grief, frustration, and oddly -- determination. He watches her refill his glass, but his gaze swiftly comes back to Jo, pale gaze intent: "I won't go like that." Jo manages to refill his glass, and maybe he sees that there's that tiny tremor of the pitcher hitting the cup before it's put down. Her face is drawn straight as a stone, reaching for her own cup to drain it halfway as she listens. That last.... "Ya won' go at all." She drains the rest in her cup. Her voice is determined. Finally, she looks at him. "Ya won'." R'hin's voice is soft, his gaze steady on her, "Jo." He exhales slowly, waiting until she looks at him again. "I've been hiding it, but I know you've noticed." She knows. Not quite looking at him, it's obvious Jo's in denial as she raises that cup. When she does, meeting R'hin's gaze, there's a crack in that mask she keeps on so well. The cup doesn't exactly reach her lips as she breathes. "Somethin' can be done," her words are halting. Forced. "This... When we went to that place....in Igen....the tea..." There's a bare shake of her head. She can connect it, but it's clear she doesn't want to as she looks away and drains her cup again. Another refill. He's silent, letting her process it, giving a slow nod when she mentions their Igen trip. For his part, R'hin seems calmly accepting; but then he's had longer to get used to the idea. "I fought it, Jo. Tried, anyway. But the healers say it's... inevitable." There's a twist of lips as he says that last word. "It's not a bad thing, though. Most people don't have time to prepare, and to be honest -- I'd always thought it'd end on the floor of... well, a place not unlike this," he spreads his hands, a hint of familiar, all-too-casual amusement lacing his voice for a moment. "I get to choose." Jo is still shaking her head as she pours, but it eventually stops. She eventually stops, and the cup and pitcher is left on its own. "Inevitable," she echoes that words with a sour twist of her mouth as she stares at the pitcher. Exhaling sharply, "Leiventh. That's why he's.....Shit." She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and slumps back into her chair. Finally she's able to look at him again, but it's all there: anger, hurt, desperation, a deep sadness. Devastation. Long fingers tapping the table until she deliberately closes them into fists, letting her silence linger longer as he speaks. She shakes her hand again as she looks away, her jaw tight. And then, finally, inevitably, "What do ya choose?" she asks, the convict rider's voice hollower than before. Quieter than before. Her mention of his dragon earns a brief aversion of gaze, and finally, a silent nod. R'hin reaches over, his fingers brushing over her fist, gently. So too, are his words, easy and soothing: "I choose to make it mean something. I'll need your help." He exhales, slowly and obviously. "I may need to ask you to do something difficult, but I won't ask yet. It's a lot to take in, and I forget," his lips twist, "I've had longer than you to... adjust." A beat. "I'm sorry." He doesn't explain what he's sorry for, but there's a hint of regret in his gaze all the same. R'hin's touch earns her gaze, and Jo turns that fist over so that her fingers could touch his. She watches their fingers as he speak, unable to look at him again. "Ya know I got ya," she states, the hint that she's on the verge of tears in her voice rather than it showing signs on her face. "I'd do anythin' for ya, R'hin," and her head lifts a bit at an angle to steal a glance at his face. "I..." the apology stops her, and she shakes her head again. Her hand moves to grip his now as she says beyond it, "Thanks for..." telling me, goes unsaid. "Ya got me, baby. Ya got us. Whatever ya need. I won' deny ya anythin'." "I know," R'hin says, and that, too, sounds oddly like an apology, a slow exhale of breath following. "Might need help, at the least, covering." He hesitates a moment, watching their fingers twine together, leaning forward now as his gaze fixes on her face again. "Bristia knows. But -- no one else can." Something ripples across his face again, like a fleeting regret. "Whatever happens, my family will help you find Deetan. I promise, temptress." "We carry many secrets together, don' we?" Jo says hoarsely on no one else knowing, forcing a twisting smile that won't stay on her face for long. Meeting those eyes, "Many things. Told'ja shit I haven' told....No one will know, love," she promises with a mechanical nod. She doesn't miss that look that ripples across his face and her fingers tighten on his. "Need me to look in on them, I will," she says on his own family, nodding on his promise with Deetan. "Look in on yer wing. Bristia's a good woman. Good folks. I guess ya....have all yer affairs in order there." "We do," and it makes R'hin, unaccountably, smile, leaning forward just enough for his lips to brush hers. It's a relatively chaste kiss, at least by their usual standards, one of comfort, understanding. "They'll be fine," he assures her, though there's a clear gratitude in the murmured words all the same. "Don't worry about that for now." He stands slowly, and uses their twined fingers to pull her up with him. "Let's walk. Get some air." The see their dragons is implied, but unstated. That kiss remains chaste, a feat for Jo who's usually not. Still, it's one that returns with understanding and how much she's feeling - as much as she's controlling it with stoicism right now. She lets him bring her to her feet, fingers entwined together as she comes around the table to stand beside him. She draws a kiss to his shoulder once they connect before she nods once. "Could use some," she murmurs her agreement, looking to leave the establishment. For once, the usually cocky and brash bluerider seems to be finding words failing her. Sliding an arm around her waist, R'hin pulls Jo close, matching her stride as they walk. He too, seems more subdued than normal, as much a reflection of her than his own sentiment. There's a subtle tension in his posture that isn't really noticeable until it eases when they reach their dragons. Later, he'll show her a quiet beach spot further up the coast, but for now, he seems content in the silence of contemplation and their company.

Comments

Faryn (08:33, 7 September 2015 (PDT)) said...

Nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope. It's never to early to drink if your sad, right?

Edyis (08:36, 7 September 2015 (PDT)) said...

So much crying.

Suireh (08:55, 7 September 2015 (PDT)) said...

If Suireh knew, she'd be devastated, in spite of the love-hate thing they have going on. Her daddy's never supposed to fade or go away.

Alida (15:33, 7 September 2015 (PDT)) said...

sniffles repeatedly* I know they don't have nearly enough history, and Alida certainly is mostly about keeping others at a safe distance... But she would so back up and try to help R'hin (and Jo) in whatever way she could. *sniffles more* :(