Logs:Head Cases
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| RL Date: 26 January, 2013 |
| Who: Barnabas, Jo |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Jo checks on Bones. There's a whole lot of talk about losing control. |
| Where: Greenhouse, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 22, Month 11, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: H'vier/Mentions, Lourna/Mentions |
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| It's a late night that sees the black-leathered Jo entering the greenhouse with a bottle tucked under one arm. It seems like this is no random stop for the convict rider since it's with determined step that steps in, her dark eyes going about the place before she's calling out into the silence: "Hey Bones! Ya in here?" The sound that greets Jo is one of recognition, but tired reluctance. "Ungh!" Something akin to a grunt of pain or struggle, though forced from him with something casual in it's tone. It's like a greeting from a cave man. He's laying on the floor towards the back, near the hot springs that give the greenhouse it's misty heat even now in the late night. "I'm here" Eyes closed, hands on belly, flat and still. The sound brings Jo up short and she follows the sound with heavy booted steps ringing on the hard-packed ground. "Damn it, Bones..." she calls out, unable to mask the concern in her voice before she reaches the back and finds him lying on the floor and looking worse for wear. She pauses right there before him, looking down and studying what she can of his injuries from where she stands. Shaking her head, "So I've gotta worry about ya, too," she notes quietly before she pulls the bottle from under her arm and moves forward to crouch down close to his side to see his face better. After a long moment, "Ya look how I've been feelin'," is her diagnosis in a deadpan voice. Then she brings up the bottle for him to see and adds, "Spiced redfruit cider, since ya don' drink. Figured I'd stick around ya for the night and make sure yer alright." By the tone, she doesn't seem to be taking 'no' for an answer, either. Now the groan that leaves him is a genuine one, as he realizes that there's unfortunately a reason for him to get up off the floor. He does this, albeit slowly, pushing himself up to his elbows and opening his eyes to take in the sight of the bluerider. "You been feelin' that bad?" Even though it hurts his sore face to do it, a soft smile creeps across his face. "Don't worry, I won't tell nobody that you gone soft." If there's anything that can get Bones' to smile, it's his own jokes. "I had a uhh..." a long finger points to his face, and gives a swirling motion. "... an accident. Fell down some stairs. Hehe." When Bones tries to rise, Jo reaches forward to lay a palm on his chest as if to stall, and the words that come out of her despite that soft gesture is an abrupt, "Shut up." But despite that, she does react to that soft smile with an almost sheepish one of her own. "I don' do this for just anyone, ya know," she continues to say now, that hand going from his chest to touch at some of the bruises she sees on his face. Tender touches don't match her bravado, but then, she wasn't quite normal, was she? When he tells her what happened, "Did these stairs have a name attached to them, too?" By tone, she doesn't believe him one bit. The touch to his chest is briefly glanced at, and his eyes dart back up to find Jo's with a touch of confusion in them. This is a little nicer than expected. "Now before you go gettin' mad at anybody, y'should know I asked for it." Palms are put flat to the floor to help push him up to a sitting position, cross-legged and comfortable. "Literally. I told him to do it. I needed my head cleared. Had some weird... I'unno, emotional... stuff." A finger's tapped in against his temple, while the free hand is used to reach out and take her gift and put it between his legs for safe keeping. "Now why would ya do a crazy thing like that?" Jo's done examining those bruises and she moves from a crouch to settle on the ground beside him. "Yer goin' to ask me to knife ya in the leg, next? Cuz I might if yer so bent on gettin' banged outta shape." Eyes narrow slightly when he explains the why, and the convict rider pauses for a moment on that, mulling it over. Then, when she looks away from him and she hands over the bottle, she grunts. "Weird emotional shit, I can understand," she notes then, studying his face sidelong. "Been up on that too, lately. I just didn' walk up to someone and asked them to rearrange my face for me." Sitting in stillness for a time, there's a lingering discomfort for those few seconds he chooses not to respond. It's just as the silence grows unbearable that he finally speaks up. "You go first." His face is free of smiles for once, but not out of any strict need for seriousness. "C'mon. Empty your head real fast. What's eatin' you?" When Bones fall silent, Jo is easy to comply. She's not really there to knock the boat of a man that's already been knocked one too many times. So she shifts just a bit to get more comfortable, one knee bending up and looking like she wasn't heading out anytime soon. When he breaks his silence the way that he does, she can't help the faint smile that comes to it. She go first? Eyes find Bones' face again, but mostly his eyes as if she's weighing something. Silence reigns a little longer than necessary before she says a careful briskness, "Just...things. My past croppin' up again. Ya know about where I ended up." Her gaze turned pointed. "So. Think I might have a lead on people. Been slippery like rats, but...ain' just that. Two Weyrleaders. Business. Different things." Then her eyes look to him again in wordless prompt. His turn. Cocking his head to the side, Bones' smile creeps in as she ends her short monologue. There's no advice to truly give her, and yet still he tries. "Maybe it's worth lettin' the past stay behind you. It don't gotta be an anchor on your tail y'know." On that note, he sits up a litte straighter and tucks a knee up against his chest, then props an elbow on it to begin his own little story. "My problems are uhhh, well, stupid. Just real stupid, y'know? Because they're all up here." Finger taps at his temple again as he continues. "Nobody told me 'bout how the weyr gets during the stupid mating flight. I had no clue at all, right? So I'm just up in the bathing caverns, all on my lonesome, and this..." there's a pause as he tries to find the proper way to describe Lourna. Not just a faithful representation to consider, but his present company. Fuck it, Jo liked ladies. "This little blonde weyrbrat walks in, with a body that's got no business bein' on a girl s'young. Know what I mean?" There's a soft sigh that leaves him. Guilt? "Anyway, I'm hungry for her in this real weird way. A way that when I wake up the next day, I feel like I'm just a whole differant man than I was from the night before." The story is paused there for now, Bones looking up at Jo to try and see if she's following. "Hard to do when yer been feedin' off of revenge for over seven turns, darlin'," Jo answers that with abrupt honesty. But then, perhaps there was something about Bones that it was just easier to admit certain thing than to anyone else. She shrugs a bit on it, but goes silent when it comes to his turn to speak. And when he does speak, she listens, not interrupting him one bit. There's a knowing little smirk that forms upon hearing about the residue of a gold flight, and then the girl and his response for that and that knowing smirk grows even more. She brushes her shoulder against his, almost playfully as she quips, "Curves in all the right places, does she? Hey, ain' nothin' wrong with lettin' the flight feelin's take over and gettin' good some." When he pauses though, she raises a brow to him and adds, "And? What do ya mean by wakin' up different? Wanna get in some more of this girl?" She can talk it like the boys, and she's waiting to hear more. "No!" Is the first and firey response to the suggestion of getting back together with Lourna. Though he's quick to elaborate. "Well, maybe. I dunno. My issue ain't about her specifically. It's just like..." Another sigh, this one of growing frustration. This is hard to talk about. "I don't drink no more because of that feelin'. That feelin' like I don't got no control." Despite his admission of distaste for drinking, there's a far-away look in his eyes as he lifts her gift of cider and uncorks it. There's no alcohol in it, but the long-familiar act of taking a sip straight from the bottle is a physical comfort. "Folk like to drink cuz it numbs things up. Quiets down all them voices in your head tellin' ya to be proper n'good. Well some folk need them voices or things go south." There's a quick guzzle of the cider now, three thick gulps taken straight from the source and then a wiping of his lips with the back of his hand. "Woke up that next mornin' scared as shit. Heart was poundin' on me because I felt like I did ten years ago. Like I got away with murder." There's a few seconds of silence once more, but it breaks with a sudden snort from the old convict. "Like I said. Stupid." At Bones' fiery response, there's low laughter from the convict rider. That laughter fades the more he talks though - his words seeming to hit much closer to Jo's iron-clad home. Drinking and control? The look on her face states she knows all too well. She watches his throat as he uncorks and takes a drink before she says, "And if those voices ain' good?" Perhaps alluding to her opposite, but she chases that question down with a snort and a "Ya ain' did no murder here, darlin'. Shit like this just happens. Yer still you, at the end of it. Fuck all the rest." That's her take, anyway. She regards him still as he drinks, her head slightly tilted and leaned back, before she observes idly, "Ya talk more. To me. I like it." Pause. "So, ya got this H'vier to beat ya down because of all of this?" Bringing it back to topic. "Yeah yeah, I know I didn't do nothing terrible. Just felt somethin' in me that I thought was dead and buried." Cider is corked again and set back down to the floor, a few more elaborations to make before he's all well and done. "Well Havi? That was my perfect punishemnt y'know? I ended up scrapping with him over this same girl, him tryin' to pick her up at the snowasis. On account of her bein' way too young for men like us to be ruinin'? And then this stupid dragon shit goes down and all of a sudden all my high and mighty morals go out the window? I needed a good stompin' for that." He takes a deep sigh, and the suddenly perks up in a grin as realization hit him. "Hey, I didn't tell you it was H'vier you damn sneak!" The shove at her shoulder is a little stronger than it should have been given her size, but it's playful enough. Jo shakes her head, her crooked grin lingering as she answers back, "Past don' own us, but some of it's still who we are. Can' run from that." Hand going to Bones' shoulder, gripping him there, "Ya know yer a good man," she notes with honesty, with a look. "Shit, a better person than me! Why else do ya think I come around, besides ya knowin' how to kiss right?" And H'vier and morals? Well, the convict rider leans her head right back and drawls out, "Nah, ya didn' need a stomp for that." She flicks a glance over to him. "Think I enjoy Tac chasin' every green tail he fancies? I can hardly think for myself, much less get myself under control without wantin' to tear someone's clothes off by the end of it! It's intense. It's like something burns inside ya, all that rage and tryin' to decide whether ya need to be gettin' bloodied or naked...it just comes with the territory, darlin'. Felt pretty guilty about all of it too, at first, but after a couple of turns of it...and it's worse when they lose. Much worse." But then she feels more than sees the gardener suddenly perk up, and the bluerider is getting shoved, though it's obvious she could take the hit. There's a grunt and an exhale of breath before she flashes Bones a winsome smile along with a wry, "Ha. Already knew. Ya didn't think the whole Weyr would be talkin' about it by now? It's how I heard about it." She gestures to the bottle, "Since I can' do anythin' like really make ya feel all better with ya lookin' like death over there and all, yer settlin' for that from me. Feel privileged." Bones' smile is weak at first, but can only grow as Jo speaks of dragons. It's growing harder and harder to distance himself from the creatures, and of how quickly he understands their usefulness in analogies. "I ain't a good man." They could argue that point all night long, it seemed. "But I appreciate you sayin' otherwise." The look he gives her is oddly sentimental for him, though the cuts and bruises to his face soften up his gruff image so much that it might just be imagination. "And the cider is mighty tasty. Thanks much." He takes in a deep breath through an open mouth, and starts to push up from the floor. "I wish I could just crash here but... there's a couch with my name on it waitin' for me back at Zee's place." With an outstretched hand down to the rider, he silently offers to help her from the floor. "When I ain't banned from the snowasis no more, drinks are on me alright?" "Well, ya good enough to me," Jo is easy to counter, and with a fond smile that's without any of her bullshit arrogance and bravado, she is easy to not argue the point. She inclines her head to his thanks on the cider, adding in that, "If I get ya drunk, then who knows who ya'll be fightin' next. Just, make sure I'm there next time to haul yer ass out after I get a lick in?" Joking, right? Right. Bones gets up and when he offers that hand, she brushes her own over her leathered thighs before she takes up the offered hand and pulls herself right to her feet. To his offer of drinks at the Snowasis, "Sounds like a plan, Bones," is given, a single nod that's firm on the ready. "Guess ya better get on goin'. See ya again, right?" "Y'aint gonna get me drunk." He's smiling as he speaks it, but there's a touch of extra assertiveness in there that thankfully doesn't bring the mood down too much. "Thanks for letting me talk your ears off all night." Her hand is clutched just a few seconds longer than necessary, the gardener trying to decide between giving a shake or pulling her in for a hug. In the end, he simply lets fingertips trail away from her palm, a slight look of dissatisfaction on his face in his choice. "You'll see me soon." And with that, he's heading out of the greenhouse and back to the weyr he calls home. |
Comments
Comments on "Logs:Head Cases"Azaylia (Dragonshy) left a comment on Sat, 26 Jan 2013 10:54:30 GMT.
It's the revenge-driven leading the convicted murderer. e.e; In a surprisingly nice scene, given their topics of conversation.
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