Logs:Hey, Asshole!
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| RL Date: 25 September, 2013 |
| Who: H'vier, Tayte |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Coming off a flight loss, H'vier sets his sights on Tayte, even though they've been "having problems". It doesn't go well, and then it does. In short, more Great Decisions. |
| Where: Snowasis and Tayte's Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 23, Month 11, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Jeyli/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Yvalia/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Profanity, sex, etc. Adult themes and whatnot. Back-dated, played via gdocs. |
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| Snowasis, High Reaches Weyr The Snowasis is rarely quiet, and even then, the high-ceilinged former weyr is kept from echoing by the fantastical booths tucked into its convoluted perimeter. The secluded seating spaces have been shaped from the truncated stalagmites that escaped the smoothing of the main floor, and are both softened and separated by colorful hangings that are thick and opaque enough to make each corner its own private nook. Some of the smaller stalactites still roam the ceiling, their jagged teeth tracing a bumpy, inverted spine to the hearth. There, a thick rug with a low klah table and comfortable armchairs and couches sit, their upholstery and cushions changed sporadically to match the season: bright, light colors in the summer, fresh greens and yellows in the spring, warm autumnals in fall, and clear, rich hues for winter. Small tables litter the rest of the cavern, enough to fit up to four people each, while stools stand along the smooth wooden bar behind which is the passthrough window to the kitchen. Glass-paneled cabinetry behind the bar provides a clear view of the available liquors, the many colors reflecting the soft light of glows tucked into strategic niches around the cavern.
H'vier isn't the only frustrated rider that filters into the Snowasis in the wake of a green's mating flight. His agitated destination is straight to the bar where the 'tender is already pouring drinks to appease what could turn into an annoying crowd. The bronzerider doesn't notice Tayte sitting over where she is right away. She's not why he came here, after all. Unfortunately she's familiar enough in all the right ways, or wrong ways depending on how you look at it, to focus his heated attention once he has spotted her. He finishes off a shot, gets a more proper drink and then heads over toward her like she's been waiting for him all night. "Hey, gorgeous." Lounging, as she is, and in the colors she's dressed in, H'vier's isn't the only eye that Tayte catches in the wake of the losers' arrival. However, other interest seems to mysteriously evaporate as H'vier makes his move toward her. It leaves some puzzlement on the blonde's face as she didn't see him coming, so busy was she making not-so-casual eye contact with a brownrider across the room. His voice and familiar greeting is what pulls her attention. Her chin jerks toward him and her nose wrinkles, folding the freckles there together in -- is it distaste? "H'vier," it's a cool greeting, and it even just making it seems to require her swallowing down the last of her wine. Obviously no one wants to challenge the punch-happy bronzerider. Not right now, anyway, when he's more likely to hit someone for getting in the way of what he's decided he wants. Tayte's coolness doesn't seem to dissuade him too much, if he even notices there's a chill there at all. "Looking for some desperate soul to find himself between your legs? They know better than that," he points out, offering her one of his most charming smiles. It's a shame she's more familiar with the man behind it than most. "You ought to come with me before anyone gets it in their head that they might have a chance, though." "If I were, you'd qualify," Tayte answers, sounding bored, "But I don't do desperate, thanks. The only thing I'm in need of is a good, stiff-" Wait for it. "-drink." She shifts out of her lounging position and then onto her feet. "Besides, why would you care if anyone did want to get between my thighs? You vacated the post some months back, I seem to recall." She reaches her empty hand up to flip through her locks, subtly smoothing them over, which is a fairly contrary move - making sure her hair looks good - when to all appearances, she's turning him down. Maybe it's for one of the ones that won't dare? Surely H'vier is used to being turned down. Perhaps even somewhat numbed to it. But not so much when he's still hot from a lost flight and emotions, such as they are, are still high with the particular woman that has gained his single-minded focus. "Only after you left the gate wide open, darling. Which means there's no reason you shouldn't let me have another taste." Despite his truly eloquent metaphors, it's probably the way that H'vier moves closer to crowd her personal space that's even more off-putting. Especially since he'll reach out to try grabbing her by the arm if she tries to move away. Moving away was exactly what Tayte had planned, so her arm finds itself in H'vier's grasp. Blue eyes go first to the hand and then up to the man, her look a combination of dark displeasure and something more sultry, the looks not altogether at odds with one another, though certainly sending mixed messages. "I'm sure I can think of several reasons I shouldn't let you, though I doubt you could name them. You don't usually bother with names, do you, Havi? To be fair, I don't blame that one of yours that came home with me for not being able to remember her name by the time I thought to ask." She purses her lips in a way that's almost challenging. "I need a drink." She repeats, tugging her arm in his grip. He may not be stupid, necessarily, but his brain lacks some of the processing power that it normally has when he's revved up the way he is now. "I know your name. Isn't that enough? And I'd really like to hear my name moaned on your lips before the night is over." He's either over the whole disaster where she took his 'date.' Or he's just ignoring it right now. Her taking the woman probably wasn't what he remembers from that night anyhow. There's an annoyed growl when she tugs at his grip, which tightens in response, and he leans closer. "You can have a drink. But you're coming with me." It would probably be easier for Tayte to resist H'vier's particular brand of charm if she'd chosen to actually get laid between the night she took his date and now, instead of just making it appear that she was getting laid. Unconsciously, she inclines her body just a little toward him after the first things he says, though to her credit, she does lean away again when he takes his turn leaning toward her. "Oh, I am, am I?" That's the best she can come up with that isn't an enthusiastic 'okay!' At least the words come out sounding dubious. "And what makes you think I don't already have plans tonight?" Just because she was lounging in the couch like she hadn't another care in the world... She tugs at the arm again, taking a step toward the bar. That drink, she still wants it. "Fuck your plans. You're coming with me." H'vier is kind enough to move in the direction of the bar, at least, and after a few steps he even releases Tayte's arm to walk with her rather than simply guiding her where he wants her to go. "Get whatever you want." He'll even get himself another drink while he's here, even if he's looking restless to get out of this place and somewhere more private. Being a bartender, Tayte knows exactly what she wants to order. It's the fruity cousin of the Tillek Iced Tea. Her chin gives a little nod to her co-worker to indicate that more booze is more better in this instance, so the tall drink is extra-strong, even if it was also chosen because it takes time to mix that many types of alcohol into one beverage. She leans against the counter as if she hadn't a care in the world. It might be that she's taking a moment to consider the pros and cons of the situation she finds herself in. Could she avoid leaving with him? Almost certainly. This is her place of work and there's enough people here to keep her, probably even without a fight, but is that what she wants? She takes slow sips once the drink is handed over, and then she's turning, moving toward an empty booth. It's going to take time for her to consume the stiff drink she'd wanted so badly, might as well be comfortable. And a booth is a little more private, if not nearly enough for what H'vier's got in mind. A booth is definitely not where H'vier had in mind as an ultimate destination. But he seems confident enough in his ability to keep her that he doesn't try to stop her from heading that way. He does follow her, though, close at hand. And once she's sitting, he'll just slide right into the booth after her to keep her from leaving without some say on his part. "I'm sure they would've let you take that with you," he points out. It's not like a good employee would be making off with the glasses, after all. "But I suppose I can wait a little longer." He's probably not willing to wait a lot longer, though, judging by his tone. Tayte doesn't hesitate in sliding into the booth, likely expecting that he would join her on her side since he's made his aims so clear. "Oh. You think?" She asks, as though it hadn't occurred to her to take the drink with her to wherever it is he wants her to go. "I suspect you're more likely to let me finish it here than if I took it to-- where is it you want me to go with you?" She raises her brows questioningly. At least she's not being overly slow about drinking down the glass. She's not chugging, by any means, but not drawing it out. Perhaps she suspects that won't win her points toward finishing it here. "I don't care. Anywhere I can fuck you without getting interrupted. I could take you to my weyr. We could go to your quarters." H'vier is really more concerned about what they'll be doing than where they'll be doing it. And the hand that finds her leg under the table is certainly not in a chaste mood, either, sliding up her thigh with a possessive firmness but stilling before he gets too familiar. This particular eloquent response of his garners a new sort of reaction from the blonde. Her eyes narrow. Apparently, not romantic enough! Tayte's free hand moves down to try to brush his away. "I'm not yours anymore, you know. You didn't want me. And now just because you're hot and bothered from losing a flight, you suddenly do and I'm supposed to what-- just open my legs for you as if nothing's happened to make that unappealing?" There's edge to her alto, though she keeps the volume quite low. This is a private conversation, as is the private war she's starting over ownership of her thigh. "You'll always be mine, Tayte. It's not my fault that you wanted to fuck other people. And now I'm letting you." Sort of. "You should be happy." It just so happens that he's fucking other people, too. "I could go find someone else if that would make you happier. But it's you I want right now." H'vier manages to make that sound pretty sincere, actually. But that doesn't really help the words themselves. Tayte blinks at him now, momentarily disarmed. "I never agreed to always be yours. You dumped me, remember?" Now she grinds her teeth and she's scooching away from him, until she's crowding herself against the wall. "It's never made me happy when you go find someone else." She sets her drink on the table, her drinking hand joining it's pair in her lap where they smooth down the material of her long skirt. Then, abruptly, "I haven't fucked anyone. Except that one girl. The night I was at your weyr wanting you." And that was on principle, her tone implies. "Bullshit. I know you're fucking K'del. That's probably the only reason he gives a fuck about Yvalia in the first place. You've probably been fucking him all along." When he says this, H'vier's voice takes on a notably angrier, slightly disgusted tone. He downs the rest of his drink before moving a hand to reach for her wrist. "Come on. Now." This accusation takes Tayte by surprise, and she's wide-eyed as she stares at H'vier. If Tayte could move further away from the bronzerider, she probably would, but there's a wall there. I am not fucking K'del." It come in a hiss, in the wake of her slight recoil, as much as she's able with the close quarters. "I'm not fucking anyone. What was the point when I wanted to be fucking you and you just wanted to fuck women who weren't me?" Now she's angry. There's no question, even if she's still keeping her voice low. With her probably wanting to magic through the wall to get away from him right now, H'vier slides closer to close the distance, jaw tense with anger. "Don't fucking lie to me, Tayte. It makes sense. You like women and K'del is a pussy. But don't you fucking lie to me." It sounds like a threat. It probably feels like one, too, with as close as he manages to get. There's a look on the bronzerider's face that she's probably at least slightly familiar with after serving him drinks for so long. He wants to hit something. Someone. But he doesn't make Tayte his target. Instead he shoves himself away, out of the booth and to his feet. "Have at her, boys. I'm sure she'll spread her legs for someone," he says, embarrassingly loud, as he heads off toward the ledge. "Hey!" He slides away before Tayte's hand can come up to grab hold of his shirt, but she's swiftly following him out of the booth, not even bothering to down the rest of her drink. The blonde stays on his heels, anger flickering openly onto her face once they're mostly out of her place of work. The closer to the bowl they come, the more she lets it show. When they hit the bowl itself, that's when she calls to him again. "Hey! Asshole! I'm talking to you!" Because that's going to help. H'vier ignores Tayte calling after him on his way out. The point of his words were probably to make her as angry as he could manage, so the fact that she is doesn't bother him all that much. The fact that he is bothers him quite a bit, though. It's not until she calls him an asshole that he stops and turns around. "What!" he yells at her, a fist clenching at his side. Tayte doesn't stop when he does. Instead, she picks up momentum in the last couple of steps and jumps on him. The aim is to get her legs around his waist, but she'll settle for just providing herself enough inches to plant a heated kiss on his lips if that's all she can get out of the maneuver. That's not what H'vier was expecting. Far from it, admittedly. Fortunately his reflexes are good enough not to have them tumbling to the ground or him swinging at her defensively. His arms wrap around her as she tries to attach herself to him and that kiss is returned with an aggressive sort of passion, fueled by the remnants of flight lust and the more dominant anger. The anger will probably not be helped by the fact that the kiss is eventually ended with a bite. It's not enough to draw blood, but enough to draw his attention to the words Tayte vehemently whispers, "I have never ever lied to you, H'vier. And I never ever will." Omissions don't count as lies, apparently, but she omits the omissions at this moment. "You're the only man I've fucked in months. And if you ever want to do it again, you won't call me a liar again." She doesn't immediately give him the chance, though, because she's aiming to busy his lips with another kiss full of intentions that need a private space where they won't be interrupted. The bronzerider is in that grey area where pain is a feeling he's kind of okay with. But, despite the brief groan the bite causes, it does focus his attention long enough to hear, really hear, what she says. He even starts to say something before her lips keep him from following through. H'vier obviously prefers the kissing over talking, desperately needing something to press her against to put as much into it as he wants. But since he has nothing but open air, it at least gives him a reason to draw back and murmur in a voice that's low and heated, "I'm sorry, baby. I want you. Please. I need you tonight. Please. Just tonight." He probably means that more as a 'you only have to put up with me tonight' rather than only wanting her for tonight and never again. But there's less blood in his brain and more in other places that have a mind of their own right now. Tayte has no worry that H'vier lacks the strength to hold her for as long as she'd like to stay there, wrapped around him, so she shifts only a little, to become more comfortably placed against him. When he draws back, her eyes are on his, and her focus is intense. She hears him, too, though she doesn't seek to clarify his meaning just now. "Promise me you won't act like it was nothing when it's over?" She asks softly, shifting again so she can reach up to run fingers down his cheek and to toy in his short beard as she once liked to do. To be fair, H'vier would probably promise Tayte anything she could dream of right now. So what she actually asks for is easy enough to agree with. "Promise. It's never nothing with you, Tayte," he tells her. But there are other things to think about right now. Like where to go. "My place? Reisoth will come." Because unlike his oversexed rider, the bronze generally gets over his losses pretty quickly. Especially when they're just a green. Now Tayte moves to unhook her legs and slide down his frame to find her footing. "Mine." It's a simple answer for something that's much more complex. They do not need to get into the fact that Tayte's most recent experiences (plural!) in H'vier's weyr have been unpleasant, to say the least, and that that's not conducive to getting it on. That's really probably what he wanted anyway. It's easier to get to, for one. That's always a plus. He's not thinking about her past unpleasant experiences there, though. H'vier is only thinking about pleasant experiences in their near future. And maybe the slightly unpleasant experience of walking all the way to her room. But he'll live! H'vier will, but some of Tayte belongings won't. Not in the whirlwind of action that starts before the door is even shut and locked (though, eventually, Tayte manages that). Neatness is thrown into chaos as tonight's foray into the passionate also provides an outlet for some of that anger. Very little care is taken for the bumps, bruises, bites, and scratches they'll have by the time all is said and done. Done has them finally finding the bed for a much needed moment to catch their breaths. "I think you ripped my skirt." Tayte manages, her head rolling so blue eyes can seek the discarded garment at it's new home on her floor. "Sorry," is a word that H'vier is not very sincere about in regards to a ripped skirt right now. He even has a small grin about it. Or maybe it's just a grin about being where they are at all right now. The bronzerider looks like the wild feline that ate the whole fucking wherry in one majestic mouthful. He's satisfied. But not so satisfied that he'll start thinking about how horrible of an idea this might have all been. If he ever gets around to thinking that at all. "I think I pulled a muscle in my leg." But he makes that sound like it's a feat more than a complaint. "That just means you did something right." Tayte isn't going to help defeat the idea. The blonde rolls onto her side then, pressing her palm to the bronzerider's chest and looking down at him. For a moment, her eyes are searching his face. She doesn't volunteer what she's looking for and her expression doesn't tell if she's found it or not, but soon she's rolling off the bed and stepping to her vanity to regard her form, visually inspecting the damage. "Not bad," She grades the performance, or perhaps just the remaining evidence. "Thankfully, no hickey." She runs her fingertips across her throat, fingering down to a bite mark on her collarbone where her touch lingers. "Are you staying for round two? Or is once enough?" "Good to hear." It's always nice to a hear a woman say something like that. Even if she's not actually talking about his performance. He doesn't comment on the way she looks at him. But if there's not much on his face except "Is round two an option?" seems to be the more important question to him. "I'll stay if it is." Even if it probably won't quite compare to the intensity of round one. And possibly end up more awkward afterwards. These are the risks you take when you want to get laid. "As long as round two is followed by a lengthy trip between sometime between the end of round two and a day or so later, then yes." Tayte moves back to the bed, climbing in and crawling toward him. It's almost too sexy a pose for the very practical words that she speaks gently. "I'd say we probably aren't prepared for another unexpected situation just now." It hasn't been long enough and there are too many Issues between them. "I lack the requisite dragon and I'd rather not get into why I need such a trip with anyone else." Those words have H'vier's expression fading into something more neutral. Not exactly frowning, but not quite as relaxed as he was a moment ago. "Sure," is his response. Of course that's what he'll say, even if he's obviously thinking afterwards. But that passes soon, too, and the bronzerider reaches out to draw Tayte closer so he can press his scruffy face and lips against the skin he can reach. "If anyone needs to ask why a beautiful woman needs a trip between, they're too stupid to give you the ride." Tayte is attentive to his thoughtfulness, though she doesn't interrupt, instead just stretching out beside him, conveniently in time for him to reach for her and draw her to him. She doesn't explain that she meant she didn't want to have to explain to the people who would give her a ride for that kind of thing that she slept with H'vier... again. That would probably be a mood killer, and even if the mood isn't particularly charged just now, she doesn't want to take it in the opposite direction. Her hands find his hair, running through and and then down his neck and really anywhere the flow and flex of his body makes it natural to go from there. There's a soft sigh that can easily be interpreted as content. "I missed this. Touching you." She murmurs, eyes following the paths of her fingers more than anything else. If the way he shifts and settles against her is any indication, H'vier has missed this, too. And he doesn't seem to be in a huge hurry for it to be over. Because who can tell how they'll feel about each other once he leaves the room. "I missed you touching me, too. And your breasts. You have such nice breasts." To emphasize his point, H'vier cuddles, for lack of a better word, his head against Tayte's breasts. "And the way you smell." He sighs the last out after taking a deep breath against her skin. It really isn't the time for heavy talk, not with the way she's curling against him and reveling silently in the feelings that produces. But the words come anyway, "Havi?" Softly, "I'm sorry things got so messed up between us. Really sorry." If it weren't so tender a moment, maybe Tayte would stop to wonder why she was doing the apologizing. But she's busy. Having a moment. He doesn't say anything right away. Probably because he's not sure what to say. "I'm sorry, too, gorgeous. I'm sorry that I'm not the sort of man that you need." Though he might be okay with being the sort of man she likes to fuck. That works pretty nicely. H'vier tilts his head to look up at her face before he's shifting up to kiss her again. And now the jar of vtols is opened, and they've no net to catch them with. "But," Tayte sounds both apologetic and a little confused, blinking at him prettily just as he catches her lips in a kiss. So there's that to distract her a while. She certainly doesn't rush to end it, but when her lips do eventually part from his, regardless of the way her hands are now roaming with more provocative intentions, she protests, "You are the man I need." Not even just 'the sort'. "I'm pretty sure I became the idiot in this before you did." They both got there, of course. "I want you." This is admitted quietly, though differently than she may have uttered those same words before; now there's no heated breath on his ear, just Tayte looking... well, sweet and vulnerable as she gazes up at him. It's probably a trap. Or at least hazardous to his health. There's a naked woman and the promise of more sex. The touching on top of that is bound to make his brain less cooperative even when they're talking about things like this. Things that should keep him on his guard. But this is Tayte and H'vier has an obvious weak spot for the blasted woman. "No. Tayte. I'm not what you need. Maybe what you want. Fuck, I want you." The way he says that is heated and hard to misinterpret. "But you need someone like... fuck, like fucking K'del or something. Or one of those boring healers." Not that he's letting her go right now for her to skip off and find one of them. Tayte's look is too youthful for her turns. It's halfway between a pout and a frown. "Why?" Why K'del or some boring healer and not him. "Why not you? If I wanted not-you, I'd go get not-you, I want you, though. Not not-you." It's possible from the differences in her phrasing now versus her usually clear choice of wording that her brain isn't quite where it should be for this conversation either. "Is it--" Now the pout includes a little lip wobble action, "Do you want to fuck other women, Havi? Am I not enough anymore?" She seeks greater closeness now, wanting the reassurance of his firm form against hers, her grip strengthening as she pulls herself against him. Nothing she says is hurtful. Quite the opposite, really. So it doesn't make a lot of sense for H'vier's face to look slightly pained by what she says. "Don't pretend like it's that simple, baby. You know it's not." But he doesn't go on to answer those questions. Part of the reason might just be that she's moving like that. And he's responding in ways that aren't really conducive to a fair conversation. "I don't want anyone else to have you. But you deserve more than me, Tayte." Yes, he's perfectly aware that he's kind of a shitty person. But it's easier to forget that he shouldn't actually say so when the rest of him is trying to position her on top of him. Tayte doesn't resist the hands that encourage her to straddle him, but nothing's lined up probably as he'd like, because she's still looking at him, her expression now a little distressed. "Havi, can I ask you a question without you getting mad?" It's hardly a promising beginning for the foreplay for round two, especially with the distinct lack of action that would be indicative that that's what this is. Fortunately for H'vier, he's not in need of a lot of foreplay. Unfortunately for H'vier, he's not getting anything else. He might try to put his hands on her hips to move her where he wants her, but unless he gets a lot more forceful, it's not exactly easy. "What? Sure." He should probably be better at remembering that she's really good at timing her questions. Her hips move, but not enough. Timing really is everything. Tayte's eyes focus on the man's face. He can be distracted, but she's still going to start softly, "I trust you, Havi. I trust you with all of myself. With my heart even. And when you told me you weren't sleeping with anyone else when we were together, I believed you. I didn't even really think to question it. Not until my sister-- well, that's not the point. The point is, after I asked you not to while we were trying to work things out, and you did... I-- It made me wonder. Was I wrong to trust in you then?" The sound he makes is slightly frustrated. Can't they talk about this after? But he's smart enough not to ask that out loud. Her question is probably fair even if the timing isn't. Fortunately, it doesn't take a lot of brain power for him to answer that one. H'vier leans up, wrapping an arm around Tayte's waist to pull her down against his lap. His eyes find hers and he says with an intense deliberateness, "I was never with anyone. Not until after. I was only with you, baby. Just you." That's not to say that trusting him has ever been a good idea, granted. Ocean blues don't flinch away from his dark gaze. There's no pause after his words before Tayte answers, with equal resolve (the kind that's sure to prove to be a headache to him if he's of a mind to try to dissuade her), "Then I don't seen any reason why not you." So there. A few swift shifts of her hips occur in rapid succession while her lips find his, and round two soon has them in its grip. |
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