Logs:Impulsive
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 12 June, 2014 |
| Who: Oliwer, Tayte |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Tayte catches up with Oliwer to apologize for H'vier and ends up also warning him about G'laer. He's less than willing to believe. |
| Where: Tunnels, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 19, Month 13, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: G'laer/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions, Tahvra/Mentions, Yvalia/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. Altcestuous talk. Angst-ish. |
  |
| It's not a happenstance run in; the kind that is awkward and maybe a little funny after a one-night stand. Tayte is waiting for Oliwer in that sky blue traveling cloak of hers, the same one from that night, just outside the infirmary after his morning shift. She's hugged against a wall, and might accidentally startle the journeyman as she falls into step next to him in the tunnel that leads toward where everyone goes after a morning shift: to get lunch. "Hi Oliwer," it might be a little too bright with just a tiny edge of nerves. "Going for lunch?" Oliwer is, indeed, startled by the blue cloak that falls into step next to him, no doubt lost in his thoughts or going over something from his shift. But it's short-lived once recognition sets in a moment later and he seems just noticeably torn on how to respond. "Tayte," is a pleasant enough greeting. "That was the plan. Can I help you with something?" Now Tayte can see his face with the evidence of the damage that was done. It's not quite a gasp because it's not as vivid as all that anymore, and because she expected it, but it is an intake of breath that has her biting her lower lip and composing an answer. What she settles on is, "May I join you?" Being the sort of man that he is, Oliwer has probably received a lot of shocked and gasped reactions to varying degrees from people familiar with him over the last few days. His trip with his weyrmate was a nice vacation overall. But it was also nice to get away from people seeing him like this. "I'm not certain that's a good idea." The way he says it is fairly neutral. He doesn't know that she already knows who hit him. Maybe his rebellious phase has just come later in life. "He's a son of a bitch." Tayte says, her voice colored with something-- anger? annoyance? sadness? Some combination thereof, most likely. She looks apologetic when she turns her face toward Oliwer, "I don't think he'll do it again. I threatened him with something I think matters to him." Only, she's not really any better with threats than Oliwer probably is. "I'm so sorry, Oliwer. I didn't even realize that I'd told him your name." She reaches a hand out tentatively to touch his arm. "And for everything else. I feel--" She's blushing and looking guilty now, "like I took advantage of you. What with the gold flight and the alcohol and everything." Maybe she can't remember that he had not much at all before things got started. The fact that Tayte does know doesn't seem to sit terribly well with the Journeyman. It might be because he's wondering, "Did you know he would before he did it?" A warning might have been prudent, is the suggestion from his tone. Oliwer isn't used to dealing with jealous lovers. He's still learning how to deal with the one lover he has. He only glances down to the hand that touches his arm, not moving away, but his not entirely happy face falls into something more apologetic. "There's no need for that. I'm as much to blame as anyone. More to blame, even. You were very drunk. It wasn't right of me." That makes him frown. "I like to think I only got what I deserved." There's a flicker of a smile for that, likely to help her feel better. "No," Tayte answers honestly. "He knew being with someone else and breaking his promises to me meant we were over. I found out after. I didn't want you mixed up in this." The vintner looks really, really sorry. Really, really. She shakes her head firmly. "No, Oliwer, I knew what I was doing. You don't get to be a vintner journeyman without being in control of yourself even when you've imbibed much. You didn't do anything wrong, at least so far as it has to do with me. You didn't deserve that. H'vier had no right to do that." She swallows hard, pulling her hand away from his arm and letting it vanish under her cloak. "Are you?" Oliwer finds himself asking. "Over, I mean." It's bad enough that he's complicit in cheating. But breaking up a relationship, too? Maybe he'd feel worse if the person she was with was someone else. "I don't mean to overstep. But you could do infinitely better than that man. He's attractive, I'll give him that. But you deserve more than just attractive, Tayte." Like his weyrmate, clearly. All that other stuff around who's to blame for what? He'll just leave that alone. "I-- I think so," Tayte answers with a blush, "but it's complicated. Our daughter will be one on turnover day." Children always make things complicated. "And he is a complete ass and idiot, but he has been a very good father to her." She reaches one hand up tugging at her hair, the cloak flipping aside just long enough to show that she's wearing more underneath than the last time they met. "The funny thing is that I've tried to do better, and it seems that I can't, in fact." Or at least, not so far. She chews her lower lip as they walk, concern wrinkling her brow, something going unsaid for now. "I suppose that's something, being a good father. Not all men can manage that. I'm not sure I could." For all he might be a decent man, his work is where the majority of his time is spent. And even Oliwer isn't willing to give that up for a child. He glances over when her cloak shifts, probably not meaning to, but his gaze lifts quickly to her face. "Any man would be lucky to have a woman like you. If they can't see that-- what? Did I say something?" That concern has been noted, apparently, but Oliwer assumes he overstepped. She probably could say more, in response to fatherhood or blind men, but she doesn't. Tayte's indecision breaks. "I'm worried about you." Sure, they only met the one time they slept together, but Tayte had an unhealthily over-sized heart sometimes and this time it includes concern for Oliwer. "It's really not my place to say and please don't tell him I said anything but," her voice drops and her arm reaches for the healer's to touch again lightly for emphasis, "your weyrmate is a dangerous man, Oliwer. Please be careful." Her being worried about him earns an uncertain look from the healer. But it's not until she mentions G'laer being dangerous that Oliwer actually stops in his tracks and stares at Tayte like she's grown a second head. "No. No, I think you must be mistaking him for someone else." Tayte stops abruptly a step after the healer, twisting to look at him, catching that look. She swallows hard. "You know, maybe I am." She's not. She's absolutely certain, but that's the kind of thing you say when you've changed your mind about taking a risk. It's delivered in too hurried a way and with no commitment to the lie. "In that case, forget I said anything, and please, please don't tell him I said anything. I have my girls to think about." And that's something that would only be said if she were afraid for them. "I should go," her gaze darts about as if she expects to see that man here, now, "Really, I just wanted to say how sorry I was about H'vier." The rest was impulse of the moment. There's a strange dissonance in Oliwer's expression. He's more than likely well aware that Tayte isn't mistaking G'laer for someone else. The man himself has tried to tell him as much. But the denial is strong in this one and he simply doesn't want to believe it. "Wait." There's a hanging silence as he gathers his thoughts before the healer, perhaps moved by the vintner's fear, asks tentatively, "What do you know about him?" Wait, she does, even if now she looks like she might like to just go. Tayte nervously chews her lower lip in the silence. Then the question prompts an involuntary and subtle recoil, a drawing into herself, shoulders hunching just slightly. "I--" Ocean eyes catch on the healer's grayer ones, looking unsure. "I can't say much. Even saying this much..." She shakes her head. "I don't even know if that's safe..." Then she decides. "It isn't. If he ever found out I said anything about him..." There is fear in her eyes and she just shakes her head. Oliwer frowns. He was probably hoping for something more, but he's becoming frustratingly accustomed to not getting any answers out of anyone these days. "It's fine," he says dismissively. It's not. But Oliwer isn't the sort of man to press for information someone is afraid to give him. "I don't know who he was, exactly. But I don't think he's that person anymore. Not entirely. He's a good man, in his way. And he's good to me. He won't... He won't hurt you, Tayte." It comes out a bit awkwardly because it's difficult for him to even imagine G'laer doing such a thing. Oliwer gives Tayte a meaningful, earnest look, then starts to continue on his way toward lunch. Tayte's eyes are apologetic but disbelieving. It's yet another ill-conceived impulse that has her reaching for the healer's arm as he takes a step and blurting, "He came to see me. The other day." Then, "Please just be careful Oliwer." Then her hand is letting go and she's turning to vanish down the nearest split off, not running exactly, but definitely fleeing. That news, that G'laer has already visited Tayte, leaves Oliwer surprised enough that once she's fled, the healer is still standing speechless in her wake, staring after where she disappears. |
Leave A Comment