Logs:Hysterical
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| RL Date: 26 January, 2016 |
| Who: K'zin, Quinlys, Olveraeth, Rasavyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After K'zin's hysterically "misled" by C'ris, K'zin confronts Quinlys about the baby, in hysterics. |
| Where: Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 6, Month 12, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: C'ris/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions, Zianarius/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Angst. |
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>---< Weyrlingmaster's Office, High Reaches Weyr >---------------------------< Made private by a thick, insulated door that blocks out most of the noise from the barracks beyond, the weyrlingmaster's office is a comfortable, quiet alcove. Instead of an imposing desk, much of the room is taken up by a large round table, with five chairs spaced around its edges. Beneath it is a square rug pieced together from twisted rags that stretches from wall to wall, just barely leaving room for the long bookcases and filing cabinets. On the back wall, a geometric tapestry and blue and black is hung, providing both insulation and decoration. -----------------------------< Active Players >----------------------------- K'zin M 26 6'1" muscled, brown hair, brown eyes 0s Quinlys F 33 5'4" soft, dark red hair, blue eyes 9s To Olveraeth, Rasavyth's amusement is a constant in his touch, but now it is front and center instead of just at the edge of his mind. Obviously the feeling of panic he shares that so amuses Rasavyth but certainly doesn't belong to him is anything but funny to his rider. « Olveraeth, my K'zin is likely to make a scene if your Quinlys is presently engaged somewhere that he can find. Will she please see him immediately? He asks me to ask. » K'zin has at least that much foresight, apparently. Panic is not an emotion Olveraeth deals with; his wisdom is as old as the stars in the sky, and more constant still. And yet: « I'm told scenes are not good for hatchlings, » carries with it a note of warning. « Don't let him make her throw things at him. » Even so, he'll share: she's in her office. (To Rasavyth from Olveraeth) K'zin must assume he's expected, or just not have enough firing neurons left him to mind that barging in without a knock can be considered rude. If he's making a scene, at least it's one he's making in private. He's soaked from the freezing rain that drives down outside, and he shuts the door behind him and leans on it, desperate brown gaze latching onto the redhead, breath coming fast as if he ran all the way here from wherever he was, and dripping on her floor. "You're pregnant?" are the first words to pop out of his mouth. Luckily, the hapless weyrling who was going over some wing information with the weyrlingmaster has been banished; luckily, Quinlys is in a good enough mood that she's not already on edge more than 'what the fuck can he be so upset about' and so manages just to look bewildered as the bronzerider enters. "Yes?" she says, sounding confused, blue eyes lifted to regard K'zin as one hand goes, protectively, to the beginnings of a belly that is largely hidden by the table. That word, that one word after what's come before breaks the bronzerider. K'zin sinks down the door, despairing tears seeping from his eyes to add to the whole wet state of him, his hands managing to find his face and cover the shame of it all. Quinlys just... stares. She gets up from her chair and steps around the table, just looking at the bronzerider. "What," she begins, "The fuck? What is the big problem?" It probably doesn't help K'zin's 'give me back my job' case that he's pretty much hysterical just at this moment. "Oh, I don't know," he manages, already hoarse from the emotions that are doing their damnedest to just choke him, "I fucked up my job, I fucked up with my girlfriend, I just found out from her best-friend's boyfriend who used to be my good friend that I got her best-friend pregnant which is definitely going to make my girlfriend leave me and I'm going to be a fucking terrible father because my father isn't even my father and it doesn't matter because he's dead anyway!" Let's face it, hysterical people don't usually make a whole lot of sense. "..." No, seriously: Quinlys has absolutely nothing to say to that, and if she was staring before... now she's just aghast. "C'ris told you the baby was yours?" It's definitely a good thing she doesn't have anything in throwing reach. K'zin probably should offer an accurate accounting of events. That C'ris didn't explicitly say so, but perhaps he can be somewhat excused by the fact that he's upset, to this degree, rubbing tears that refuse to stop, as yet, away from his eyes even as they come and his thought process is probably more than a little jumbled. So, instead, there's just a miserable look and a nod. "I'm so sorry, Quinlys," he manages a moment later. He means it. He's so sorry for knocking her up. "Oh, for fuck's sake," yells Quinlys, loud enough that any stray weyrlings might even be able to hear, even through the thickness of the door. "It's not yours. Why would I keep your baby?" Hysterical is good for just one thing: laughter is as easy as tears. "What?" is croaked by the man on the floor, hardly daring to believe her, but who wouldn't when she's yelling like that?" Relief floods K'zin's face, but the tears come harder along with laughter, the scary sort of unhinged laughter. Why would she, indeed. A kinder, softer, less angry woman would probably get down to K'zin's level and talk to him, now-- reassure him. But Quinlys is one short, angry, pregnant woman, and she just puts her hands on her hips and glowers. "Get the fuck out of my office," she tells him. "Before I beat the crap out of you. What the fuck, K'zin? What the fuck?" K'zin manages to, inelegantly, turn over, onto his knees and use the door for support, still laughing, and crying and crying and laughing, and scrabble at the handle, pulling it open enough for him to stumble out. Maybe she won't have to beat the crap out of him, maybe he'll stumble into a wall along his way; he can't possibly be seeing much through the wet and tears. "..." Quinlys is pretty much without words for this spectacle, but given the slamming thump that echoes from the office as K'zin departs, she's not above throwing books on the floor and stomping on them. Maturely. |
Comments
Edyis (10:44, 28 January 2016 (PST)) said...
Ras's icon is just too good. Poor Quinlys.
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