Logs:Happy Turnday to Me
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| RL Date: 29 April, 2013 |
| Who: K'zin, Rasavyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: It's K'zin's 18th turnday. It's not that great. |
| Where: High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 20, Month 8, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Madilla/Mentions, N'ky/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions, I'zech/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Meara/Mentions, Sabella/Mentions, Mave/Mentions |
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| It started almost as any other day. Rasavyth was always the one to wake him. Usually it was with a tickling of thought that often caused K'zin to swat unseen insectoids crawling on his mental self. It was always an insistent enough touch to wake him. Once upon a time, that tickling had unnerved him, but now? Now it was just the sign to start the day. Today's wake up was a little different. The tickle of the moving mechanical bugs was there, but there was a swelling of joy that made their touch seem almost light and ethereal, more the way Solith's mind so often seemed, as shared to him by Rasavyth. The sheer bliss of the feeling was enough to get a smile on K'zin's face as he woke. « Why can't you wake me like that every morning? » His sleepy mind shook the glitter of dreams, as a kitten rousing from a long nap, his mind starting to stretch itself, thoughts still languid from sleep. It had been an especially good night of sleep, the kind he was sorely in need of after so many restless ones. « Because today is special. To do it everyday would make it mundane, and even repugnant as it would soon come to be associated with an unpleasant activity such as waking. » Ever the teacher, Rasavyth explains this in a way that makes it seem solid, unarguable fact. It's a patient instruction, as are most of the bronze's lessons. But then excited impatience surges through their connection, and oozy shimmers pop into the minds eye as shot from a distance below and scatter apart in a beautiful shower of iridescent light. Rasavyth could borrow Cailluneth's pallet of colors, but then it wouldn't be his own gift. « Happy turnday, my dearest K'zin! » His excitement didn't end there. While Rasavyth's surface mind has ever a friendly, comforting and inviting quality (despite that indefinable something that sets some dragons on edge), today he was giddy. He exchanged pleasantries with everyone who would speak to him, commenting on the gloriousness of the day, the sunlight, the rest of the good weather. He was the chattiest he's ever been, and the oozing of merry-making and joy seemed to ease relations with some dragons who had previously been a little more stand-offish with the clever bronze. Not once did he mention the specific reason for his cheer, passing it off on his excitement over their first flight together, which he had, surprise!, convinced the weyrling staff to move up from the following day to today. K'zin, by contrast, was somber, quiet. He pushed himself hard in the morning workout. Hard enough that his run was record time, out-pacing all but the fastest of them, and leaving him dry-heaving unpleasantly from the over-exertion. A little thing like that wasn't enough keep him from pushing even harder through the rest of the workout. He ate heartily at breakfast, though it didn't sit easy in his stomach after all his pushing. The lecture the Starsmith offered on meteorology and air currents would have been dry in the best of conditions. Rasavyth paid fierce attention since K'zin's head was not in a place to absorb the information. His mind wandered. His turnday. Ras was so excited because why shouldn't they celebrate the anniversary of his birth? The thing that combined with Rasavyth's shelling made their whole partnership possible. Why shouldn't they celebrate? K'zin could think of a few reasons. The last turnday he celebrated was with his family. He was twelve. That was the same he told them he was joining Smiths. Father was so angry. His family had never been cruel, but being a more-or-less single parent with his mother always off on her own solo postings with seven children to raise, it made for the occasional need to swat a few rears. The swatting K'zin took that night was the worst that any of them ever saw. It tore a rift in his family, he knew, because Father crossed a line and Mother was there to see it and not be able to stop it. He could've broken, could've said he was sorry and apprenticed MineCraft. It would have been easy. Some would call it hard-headed for him to stick to his guns, and some would call it having a back-bone. It was a eerily quiet in the family rooms for the next few days as K'zin packed his things to move to the apprentice dorms. His mother cried, which surprised him. He never knew she cared so much. It never occurred to him that it wasn't for him that she cried. On the third day after his turnday, his father spoke to him, only enough words to tell him the family was leaving, going back to the Hold and giving him an ultimatum. Come home now or never do. So he chose never. He wasn't exactly dead to them. His mother pleaded with him to write. He agreed, at least once a turn, he would write. The letters to his mother, she always returned within a few months. The one to his father and siblings? Kinzi usually wrote back. She was the only one who still treated him as proper family, but he and his sister had always been close. His thirteenth turnday was uneventful by comparison. After all, no one knew. No one but Thraland, and the Journeyman had been the one to see the bruises from that first turnday as a Smith. The Journeyman made a point to be more available than usual to Wakizian as he worked on his lessons and practiced, and there was easy talk between them, but Waki didn't mention his turnday, and Thraland didn't press the point. The rest of his turndays from then on were uneventful too. He didn't talk much about them. Nicky knew, of course. That kind of thing comes up when you demand to know someone else's turnday, especially when you're only fourteen when you do. But other than that? The healer records are the only trail. He might've talked to Madilla about it once, he doesn't remember now. That must be how she knew. Inexplicably, K'zin was nervous about the drink he was to have with her tonight. Madilla is his friend, the only woman with whom things weren't either scary, complicated, or both. But thinking about having a turnday drink with her made his palms sweat and the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He couldn't pinpoint the reason why, but there it was. The butterflies in his stomach made lunch sit poorly once lectures were over, the butterflies combined with the usual turnday-made knots from distant, but vivid memories. Then it was time for Rasavyth's surprise. Their straps had been ready for day, K'zin checking the length each evening and going over his stitch-work. It was a prolonged process to get good with the leather needle, but working with leather was more like Smithing than sewing, he thought, so he ended up decent after putting the learning time in. Their straps were checked over by their new favorite assistant weyrlingmaster. Sure, I'zech hadn't brought the Telavi debacle to the attention of Quinlys or Meara or anyone else, as far as he could tell, but if that warmed K'zin's perception of the man, you wouldn't have known it. K'zin's seriousness made it easy to stay all business as the older bronzerider performed a fairly rigorous check of the straps, with the Journeyman Tanner who was on hand for just that purpose. Then it was time to fly. On another day, any other day, this would have been the most exciting thing in the world, but the cloud that hung over K'zin today made the excitement muted. At least it was still there at all. Up he went. It was strange how calming it was to be astride his lifemate, how being in contact with him felt more right than anything he'd ever experienced. It always took his breath away how deep and intimate their bond became when they shared mind and purpose. He was checked again, to be sure he was properly secured, and then there was nothing left but to do it. Rasavyth's launch was a running leap into the sky. Where K'zin had never shown a disposition toward air sickness before, his stomach lurched unhappily at the strike of each limb to ground in the bronze's bounds. Dark, dulled-bronze wings unfurl as he leaps skyward. The change in looks is quite abrupt for Rasavyth. His slender body and aristocratic features make him look unassuming and approachable; just another bronze on the ground with dull bronze cloak of wings tucked around him. But when he flies? The majesty is instant and unmistakable. The wings snag the light from the sky and reflect it through a deep lustrous color. He is a handsome beast when airborne. K'zin's heart can't help but soar to swift beating as the exhilaration of flight catches him. It overpowers the nervousness and worry over if his straps will hold and if he and Ras will suffer some horrible fate and makes them seem as nothing. It's over too soon, of course, as firsts always seem to be. The landing is a little bumpy and will need to be worked on, and it's only then that K'zin becomes aware of the dizzying sensation, his stomach jarring uncomfortably. He manages to get out of his straps and slide down the side of his bronze before he's doubling over and retching up lunch. He'd have been fine any other day, but today was a recipe for disaster in that way. « It could be worse. » Rasavyth's tenor soothes, letting the his joy mellow to a comforting level, « You might have been sick on me. » Clearly, this would have been worse. At least boy and bronze are in agreement about that. Sure, it was embarrassing to puke in front of the others (for the second time today), but given the new heights he's found of embarrassment lately, it doesn't faze him much. It's sort of on par for the course of the day as he'd expected. The flight, itself, was a pleasant surprise and quiet gratitude is offered to Rasavyth for that. In a surprising display of public affection, K'zin wraps his arms around Rasavyth's nose, once he's regained his composure, and gives the dragon a hug. The bronze's response is a low, loving croon. (See, world? We don't care who knows we love each other!) Then it's back to the general blah that is K'zin's mood today. After all the weyrling responsibilities are said and done, there's a lesson with Ras. Except, today's lesson is to have a little fun and that means playing a game of dragonchess. Today, Rasavyth lets him win. They don't have an actual game board, it's one conjured in vivid images in their shared consciousness. Rasavyth is always bronze, and K'zin is copper that Rasavyth swaps for gold when K'zin is not looking; a subtle shift in the value of how the man sees himself versus the value placed on him by his lifemate. After that, Rasavyth is peckish, so they adjourn to the feeding grounds. Seeing Azaylia there lifts K'zin's spirits, having a chance to talk out some of his inner ruminations. And the hug. It's nice; comforting. It helps. Two hugs, two vomits, somehow perhaps they balance each other out in terms of pleasantness-unpleasantness. Then the bath at the lake. The water is not as cold as usual and the sun is shining brightly. There's a lot more of Rasavyth to bathe now than there once was, and it does take some time, as does the oiling, done in the training cavern near the vats. Rasavyth is then insisting that K'zin go clean himself up and see some rider named S'thet that K'zin has never heard of. Bathing completed, the encounter with S'thet leaves K'zin with a new set of clothes. Classy clothes. A turnday present from Ras. « You'll have to deliver the marks tomorrow. He knows we're good for it. » From Ras' portion of the winnings from hatching day, no doubt. By then, there's dinner to be had, but he eats only a light meal, not wanting to be ill again, especially not in the company he's about to have. He goes to Snowasis, arriving early for his turnday drink with the healer. He orders himself a beer, the first, despite the restoration of his privileges, that he's had in over two and a half months. He claims a small booth and watches the foam settle while he waits, munching on the nuts in the dish on the table. He begins to be anxious as time draws on and no familiar flame of red-hair pokes through either entrance. Eventually, too long past the set time, his waiting is rewarded, but not by Madilla herself. One of the healer apprentices he's been working with to learn some of the first aid skills better, pops in grinning at K'zin. The boy stays only long enough to hand off a note from the woman and leave again. The words of the note make K'zin's heart sink. This is why he doesn't do special things for his turnday. Why he doesn't get his hopes up. It's completely understandable that the Weyrhealer was needed for Healerly things, and he doesn't hold that against her by any means, but it lets him sink into the depression he's been staving off the whole day. He drinks, and as he drinks, his mind frees and it becomes worse, and worse, and worse. Rasavyth begins to be concerned. Only two beers it takes for the dragon to demand an end. The rider thinks of defying him, but why? Why when Rasavyth is the only one he can seem to count on? The only one who will love him no matter what? The only one who won't accuse him of abandoning them just because he stays away for a time? Alright, so that accusation of Sabella's was perfectly reasonable, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. And he should've known before Telavi told him that Sabs wouldn't want to kiss him anymore, but it still stung. The whole thing stunk. But he didn't know how to fix it. He didn't know how to try to be her friend again when she and E'sren and Telavi seemed like they were always together. The truth, it wasn't, but to a teenager exaggeration becomes truth. Especially a teenager on his second beer who hasn't drank in over two months. So back to the barracks it is with him. Walking back makes him think of how badly he wanted to defy I'zech's mandate that night when he left the bathing pools. Not to get in Tela's bed, no, just to not be there. It made him wish to have somewhere else to go. But he has no home of his own here, no family who would take him in and no friends who would enable that sort of rebellion. So he did the best he could do, slipping into Ras' couch. It made them both easier of mind, truthfully. It fulfilled K'zin's need to rebel and Rasavyth's need to protect without getting them into more trouble. He might stumble once too many, on his way to his bed, but that might be chalked up to exhaustion. Ras is there beside him as they move to their piece of the communal whole. It's Ras this time who delicately uses his agile tail to sweep blanket and pillow into the couch before K'zin has a chance to even get to the cot. Clearly, the bronze has a preference for sleeping arrangements tonight. In so doing, there's a clunk as a parcel drops to the floor between couch and cot. K'zin bends to pick it up. He sits on the edge of the cot, drawing it into his lap, brow furrowing. Another note. That makes two. Two vomits. Two hugs. Two notes. Unfolding it, he find's N'ky's message. His eyes catch the signature first, and then read the lines. I'm still mad at you. No surprise there, K'zin grimaces. But it's your turnday and I couldn't get you nothing. A little sigh escapes him. This is, at least, another small sign that not all hope is lost for his friendship. PS, I'm sorry I punched you, but you deserved it. Did he? K'zin couldn't help but wonder. Rasavyth didn't think so. K'zin wasn't sure he thought so either. True, he had made a mistake. And the particulars of the reverse psychology attempt did sound pretty terrible coming out, but he couldn't believe that N'ky would believe he would mean any of that stuff. How long had they been friends for? Four turns now, but it felt a lot longer. He would never have said any of it, if he thought N'ky would believe him. It wasn't his fault that all of it ended up being what N'ky expected of him to say. That troubled him even more deeply. N'ky accepted what he said because it was what he was thinking K'zin thought. It was messed up, as far as K'zin was concerned, that N'ky would ever think he thought that. Hatching had made things terrible between them. N'ky deciding that because K'zin's lifemate happened to be bronze and his happened to be green that K'zin was an entirely different person. K'zin hated it. He wasn't. He was still Wakizian, but a whole hell of a lot better. He was smarter (still not the brightest glow, but smarter!), more focused and driven, more conscious of the world he lived in and his affects on it. There were so many things about himself that Rasavyth had helped bring to light, but they were all things from him. They were there, waiting to be realized. Without Rasavyth it might have taken many turns more, but they would've come out eventually, surely. Rasavyth just helped make him better, faster. And if N'ky hated this perceived "new" K'zin, then wasn't it true that N'ky just hated who Wakizian would have eventually become (possibly) anyway? Didn't N'ky just hate him after all? All of these thoughts were troubling. Rasavyth's mental warmth made it more bearable, taking from K'zin's own mind presence the crackling and dancing of forge and hearth flame. The bronze's mind whispers the hush of a nanny in days long gone by when K'zin was practically still a babe, laying him down for a nap and soothing all his ills with just the one word. A fist crumples the note. The parcel, unopened, is taken and placed in his press, the crumpled note, and the one from Madilla tossed in there too. The shiny new clothes that did him no good tonight are shucked off and sleeping pants are donned. He moves to the edge of the couch where Rasavyth has already settled in and scooches onto the bronze, pulling blanket and pillow into the right positions for his comfort. He takes a deep breath and the shuddery sigh that follows is a man's attempt to staunch the tears that come quietly. His face is buried in the pillow and the blanket pulled over top, so maybe no one still awake in the barracks will notice. Normally, the tears are something that Rasavyth would put a stop to. He abhors his rider's tendency towards tears, finding it unmanly and unsuitable for his lifemate. But this time, he simply holds him, both mentally and as K'zin shudders beneath the blanket, he feels the bronze tail tip touching to his back, sliding gently back and forth, rubbing away the sorrow. « There will be better turndays, my sweet K'zin. » Rasavyth's tenor is soft and reassuring. « You will see. » The tears lead him into sleep, though there is no sweetness to it tonight, no relief in the dreaming. It is enough though to wake and find his turnday done that he is able to focus on the tasks that come in the days that follow, and soon enough, he's back to his old self, like it never even happened. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:Happy Turnday to Me"Madilla (K'del (talk)) left a comment on Mon, 29 Apr 2013 21:55:08 GMT.
Madilla feels REALLY bad. :(
Alida (Alida (talk)) left a comment on Mon, 29 Apr 2013 22:13:58 GMT.
Ahh... K'zin. Though she's got an outer layer of self-protection 10 miles thick... Alida feels for and with you.
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Mon, 29 Apr 2013 22:46:21 GMT.
That makes two. Two vomits. Two hugs. Two notes.
For K'zin, it seems trouble comes in twos rather than threes. (Not that hugs are trouble, but) This is really... sad. Things aren't always smooth when K'zin is involved, but it's another thing entirely to see how much he hurts by just being himself, on his turnday. The memories. Poor guy.
Getting to see Rasavyth care, without any pretenses or schemes, was really nice. He takes care of K'zin, in his own way. Let's hope that he's right, and that things (turndays) will be better.
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