Logs:It's Okay(?)
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| RL Date: 26 January, 2014 |
| Who: K'zin, Rasavyth, Solith, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The day after Isyath's flight, K'zin has evening sweeps. But after evening sweeps, he has apologies to make. It turns out, it's okay. Or is it? |
| Where: View to a Kill Weyr (Telavi's), High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 26, Month 11, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ali/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, H'kon/Mentions, Hattie/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Angst. Back-dated. |
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| View To A Kill Weyr, High Reaches Weyr It's a step up from the ledge and its heavy curtain into the elegant, dark-flecked weyr. In the depths of the cavern, a short spiral staircase rises even further, ending abruptly in an alcove that extends over the dragon couch; bright, colorful scarves adorn its iron railing like so much festive fringe. To one side beyond the balcony, past the hooks that keep straps and stray gear contained above a small press for shoes, three more curved steps rise high enough to double as additional seating before they reach the archway to the inner weyr. Past a faded tapestry, the crescent-shaped room is furnished with more ironwork and heavy wood that comprise a large hearth and an equally impressive sleigh bed, the latter with a colorful coverlet atop of all its furs. Standing at the foot of the bed, a huge, intricately carved armoire faces outward and creates a sort of alcove. Though there's certainly room for more furniture beyond the comfortable, curvilinear couches that sit before the hearth, even the traditional table and side chairs are missing in favor of space. Despite the dark elegance of most of the furnishings, the bones of the weyr are quirky, charming like the ledge-cluster outside: each room slightly smaller than average, their heights staggered, growing stuffy in the summer while in winter remaining cozy and warm no matter how cold it gets outside.
Solith's sleepy. Solith's practically asleep, and maybe she was; she's certainly not pacing around with her tail whipping and her eyes even more erratically whirling-- but then, why would she? No, she unlids her eyes-- if only one layer-- and peers at her visitor before languidly closing them again, not even getting around to a yawn. It's quiet. She's not the largest of dragons; even Tela's slept with her before. Or the scarves could be piled up into an admittedly thin mattress, or netted into a hammock, or, or-- Only Solith's not the one he's here to see (or sleep with, if he's sleeping with anyone at all). But as the dragon's seen him and there's no shriek of outrage from within the weyr, K'zin deems it safe to proceed into the weyr. His destination is her bed, assuming she's there, and asleep. If not, he'll see soon enough. The fire's banked; all seems much as usual, at least if one doesn't pay too close attention to what's on-- or now isn't on-- her mantel... or the tiny iridescent shard that's escaped even a dedicated broom to huddle beneath one of the couches. But then, that couch isn't her bed, where she's indeed there asleep, and where at the moment there is just her. Her hair's loosely braided; the comforter's tucked up beneath her chin; the remaining firelight isn't so helpful as to expose rent garments or tormented tear-stains or anything much beyond a sleeping girl so much like many others. There's no notice paid to what damages might've been incurred since his last visit, but likely because her decor is not his focus. K'zin is careful as he settles at the foot of her bed. This is probably where he should wake her, only... he sits. His hands rest on his knees, he switches between looking the sleeping woman and the darkness in front of him. How to begin? If he waits long enough-- then again, it may seem longer than it is before she stirs; perhaps she senses his presence, perhaps sleepy Solith's intervened or just let her notice slip, perhaps she has bad dreams. Her lashes flutter; she shifts beneath the covers; and then she goes still. Listening, maybe, before ever her eyes open again. Her eyes still haven't opened when she says, "Hello?" "Hi." That much is immediate. After a moment, "Sorry." Perhaps for stopping by, for scaring her, or... well, there is the whole 'missed date and won a gold flight instead with no heads up' situation. With that one word, tension slips as quickly from eyes closed too firmly, freeing them to lift and look-- even if some seeps back as Tela shifts to sit up, reflexively touching her hair before turning more fully towards K'zin. She sets both hands on the covers; she keeps looking at him. "It's okay," she says, at least to one of these things. She even smiles, though one side curves higher than the other. "Me, anyway-- are you? How are you?" Does he know yet? K'zin's head jerks to the side, to look at Tela, brows dipping into furrowed confusion. Then his chin glades back to the original orientation, staring at the dark once more. There is only silence, before finally a shake of his head. It doesn't seem like there are words forthcoming. His brows, her brows; hers draw in rather than down, though, and then covers rustle as she gets out of bed and walks around to him. The hem of her nightgown floats just above the pompom, incongruously whimsical for the evening, that adorns each bedsock. When she's all the way around, when she pauses in front of K'zin's knees, Tela looks for those brown eyes; then she reaches, unless there's a cue otherwise, for the fastenings of his jacket. Hands are intercepted as they reach for his jacket, brown eyes now coming to meet hers. K'zin stares a long moment and then simply shakes his head again. "I thought you could sleep," she says, explains. "If--" "I can sleep in my own bed." K'zin cuts in, releasing his grip on her wrists. "I just wanted to come here first and apologize. But since it's okay..." There's sarcasm there. Not heavy, but there. His exhale is heavy and he shifts to stand. "But--" Telavi begins, disconcerted and discomforted, eyes wide and greyed in the dim light, and that's even before the sarcasm-- or her awareness of it-- kicks in. "What's that about?" No, standing up isn't okay; even as she begins to speak, since her wrists are freed anyway, she not only doesn't give ground but reaches to press his shoulders back down. While it's true that K'zin certainly has size and strength to his advantage, neither of those things make up for leverage and space to gain balance. As such, when her hands find his shoulders, there's not enough room for him to change his center of gravity enough, so back down he goes, grimacing. "Nothing." He shifts toward one side. The next plan of action is obvious - if he can't get up right there, then move to where he can. It worked! Telavi doesn't stop to look pleased at that small and possibly short-lived success; she may start to cross her arms but his shifting puts the kibosh on that. Of course she sidesteps to match, with an eye for whether he does try that getting-up thing again. "No. It's like-- it's not okay that I said it's okay? Is that because it's not my place to? Because I worked hard to be able to say that." "It's fine. It's whatever." K'zin sounds like he doesn't care, which means it's anything but the case, of course. He shifts again, back the other way. "'Whatever.'" Tela does shift that way too-- it's easier for her than for him-- but with an eye to whether that might be a feint. She cocks her head. "It is not whatever. It's a big deal for you and-- and I'm supposed to be supportive and not make a fuss and not hold you back because it's supposed to be about you and not me--" out go her arms, gesticulating. For it to be a feint, Tela would have to have a cleverer opponent than K'zin alone. And Rasavyth is busy. (This should terrify anyone in the world with any sense.) He's up, but this time, his hands are moving to grasp her wrists before she has a chance to shift from making gestures to pushing him back down. "It is a big deal!" It's not exactly a yell per se, but it's more forceful than his usual speech. "It's a huge deal! The only way it's really okay for you is if you don't give a shit about me." Trapped by the gestures! There's no attempt to twist out of his grip, no shying away; if anything, Telavi moves in to minimize the space for maneuvering, even if she has to lift her chin to look up at K'zin. "What? You want me to not give--" Other way around, Tela. "Oh." Fiercely: "Well, write it down in the Records, I give plenty of shits about you." "Then how on the green face of Pern can you stand there and pretend that it's okay that I missed our date? That it's okay that I slept with K'del's child's mother? That it's okay that I didn't send word before coming by now?" K'zin's demands are delivered sharply. He releases her wrists, but only because he's stepped to close the bare inches between them, his brows dipped deep, expression not only showing his frustration but the underlying hurt as well. What? Telavi doesn't say it out loud this time, at least, eyes very wide-- with freed hands rising to grab hold of leather sleeves, nowhere near as careful as before, and it must be a testament to Tela's focus on the wearer of that jacket that she doesn't immediately remark on exactly which jacket it is. "I was trying to make it easier for you and besides, I already broke things and also my toe still hurts because of the wall--" "I don't want you to make it easier for me!" This comes vehemently. "I already feel like shit and everyone acting like 'oh, it's no big deal!' and 'oh, it's just what dragons do!' and 'oh, how can I be mad about it?' isn't going to help anything!" The last comes with a half-growl of frustration as he shifts to move around her. But he's not leaving, not really, just pacing. "It's not your job to make this easy on me. And you shouldn't be kicking walls over me." Only that's a little contrary to what K'zin was implying he wanted earlier. Maybe there's a way for Tela to give shits about him and not break her toes... maybe? "You don't-- you really don't?" That's early on, and fine, this time he can move but only if Tela can give the nearer sleeve a solid tug. Because. And then she can fold her arms like she'd been about to do earlier; if her hair weren't both so long and so braided, by rights it would go up in spikes. "So it helps if I yell at you," kind of like what she's doing, amped up and up, "and throw more things and-- why can't I kick a wall if I want to?!" "I don't know!" K'zin's hands are thrown up in the air as he paces, only to fall again, fingers curling into fists at his sides. "Maybe it helps, maybe it doesn't, but acting like everything is okay when it's not definitely does not help anything!" Women. He stops the length of his pace nearest to where he would continue the path if he were leaving and his eyes turn in that direction. "You can't kick walls because you'll break yourself," comes the answer and he turns his head to glare at her. Broken Telas are unacceptable. "I didn't break myself'," Telavi argues, and there's renewed proof that she just can't keep her arms crossed for long when there's the potential to fling her hand skyward. Sulkily, "It just hurts, that's all," and also is most definitely easier to argue about than the value of sweeping all sorts of things under the rug. "That's not the point, Tela!" K'zin isn't, apparently, in the mood to do any kind of sweeping. He continues to glare at her. Waiting. Waiting. He's waiting. And also glaring. She's back to crossing her arms again, some more. "What?" Telavi demands to know. "You know what? Nevermind. If you want to say everything's okay, then everything's okay, and there's absolutely no reason for me to be here." K'zin starts to to turn, starts to go. "Oh come on! Since when is throwing a perfectly good--" the last few words dopplering because this time Tela's flinging herself towards him and it's not the dragon infirmary and Solith's not singed, she's probably not even... well, could even Solith sleep through this? Surely not. Then suddenly K'zin has a Tela on his side, one of his arms pinned against his body. "Faranth's filed fangs, Tela." Talk about dramatic. Talk about exasperated. "What?" As if this is a question he should be asking or that she should be answering. If either of them can figure out what the question even means. They don't have to take turns to be dramatic, do they? Telavi can still roll her eyes, even hanging onto him as she is, and still be figuratively as well as literally on his side? "I told you," she informs K'zin, pompom bobbing as she goes to step lightly-- not too lightly-- on his foot. "I threw things and I broke some of them and no, breaking our date was no fun and especially when I had to understand and not look peeved when people were looking at me. And, and I wish you had let me know. And that you wouldn't go. Stop going. I hate it when you go, unless I get to go too." K'zin reaches, pushes, not hard, just to disentangle so he can turn and, oh wait, yes, glare at her again. "You might as well hate me then." That there's a difference between 'hating it' and 'hating him' is a subtlety that is currently lost on him. "Because if you don't love me then I'd rather you hate me. This in between bullshit is just-- crap!" Brilliantly said, K'zin! And he's looking for a moment like he's going to keep going, but feet stay planted for this breath to keep his eyes on her. What? She stares up at him and, oh yes, gets a good handful of his jacket front because that worked so well before. Might as well what? Emotions, thoughts, they flicker across Tela's face and there's a moment where she's outright gaping as though gaffed. And that bullshit bit! That's actually a lifesaver, letting her bounce back just enough to burst in before he's even quite finished because, "Why would you even think I don't?! Love you?" Never mind that she hadn't actually said as much, or his issues, or her issues, or... "I wouldn't-- all this-- if I didn't!" "Because you've never said you do!" K'zin will voice that much with exasperation. "You've never even said it back in all the-" few "-times I've said it!" He rocks back a step so he has space to cross his arms across. Something she said should really hit him, but judging from his face, revelation has yet to arrive. Mirror, mirror: Tela lets go and steps back enough that she can cross her arms, the tilt of her head swinging a heavy braid over one shoulder. If there's a moment where she might like to argue semantics, at least she doesn't do it out loud. "Well, I do." And with that, she's had enough. Enough, anyway, of crossing her arms; now she's more minded to poke him in the chest. "I," poke, "love," poke, "you." Poke. "K'zin." So there. Her chin lifts: gonna make something of it? The 'I do' has is enough to strike the bronzerider dumb (in the way he isn't always). The glare becomes a stare, one of mild disbelief. Then she's poking him. That's enough to bring him back from wherever his mind had wandered to in the moments that surely passed slower everywhere and not just within him upon hearing those two words. Then those three. Those three. "Tela." Her name is soft on his breath. But he doesn't know what to say. And her chin is lifted. So clearly, that's an invitation to kiss her, to wrap her in his arms, to lift her, to press her against him. That was an invitation, right? Someone doesn't get such a nice soft-- where 'soft' includes 'being poked by a pointy finger'-- transition. Someone still has adrenaline to spare. Someone is exceedingly fond of this whole 'kissing K'zin' business, however, and if she exhales pent-up breath in something like a huff between the first couple of kisses, maybe a fraction of that also has to do with relief. Why, Tela kisses K'zin gladly back as though, even after a long day of sweeps, he could hold her up like that all night. He can, right? Only in her dreams. Her feet find ground again after some moments, and the kissing slows and then stops, the man breathing hard, his forehead still pressed to hers, lips a bare inch away. "You love me," he murmurs, tone still holding his quiet incredulity. It stops. She sighs, balance slipped by now to her toes and then lower yet, one hand still curved about his shoulder. "I do," the woman admits, and teases a kiss up towards the corner of his mouth. "You still sound surprised." Surprised, stunned, yep, his face says both of these things as he stares down at her. Then, abruptly, "I need to sit down." Then he's stepping around her back to the bed to sink down onto its edge, staring, just staring. Tela doesn't rush over; rather, she gives him a moment for all that she can't not watch, glancing back over her shoulder with the line of neck and arm shaping a sinuous curve. Her lips curve, too, and then the pompoms are bobbing in the shadows of her hem as she walks over to tend the fire. She's silhouetted at that work for a little while and then-- if K'zin is pretty much still where and how she'd left him-- there's the quiet sound of the armoire's doors followed by the pour of liquid, and then she's bringing little glasses back... so that she can peer at him one-eyed, apparently. "How's that sitting down working out for you?" And with the offer of a glass comes the teasing warning, "This isn't water." The bronzerider looks down at where his hands grip the mattress, first one and then the other. "Well, I've got the bent knees thing down." K'zin answers with furrowed brow before lifting his gaze to Telavi. "This... is all sort of ... really intense, you know?" But at least he's not running away now. He is, however, taking the glass. If she had a chair, she could bring it over to sit on, or even the ladder she keeps stashed in Solith's part of the weyr. But that would make more of a fuss out of it, and even the nearer couch won't do. As it is, Telavi dithers a moment-- where to sit, what to do-- and settles for patting one of those bent knees before sitting on the edge of the bed near K'zin, angled towards him but with a little space in between. That seems to settle her, too, making it easier, quicker to agree, "It is," emphasized with the lift of her glass to the air before she sips; it holds fruit spirits, sweet with the tang of high summer. And just in case, because the glasses are small and there are a lot of things, "There's more where this came from... to drink, is what I mean," Tela clarifies, cheeks pink. So knocking it back like a shot isn't exactly what he was supposed to do with those spirits. Whoops. Looking down at the emptied glass, K'zin contemplates. "Better not. Going to have to talk to K'del in the morning. Before drills." He reaches up a hand to push through his hair, "Can't imagine trying to do that with a hang-over." Even if 'more' doesn't necessarily mean enough to give him one. Slowly a breath is drawn and released. "I'm sorry, Tela. That I missed our date. That I was in Fort. That he caught." No horrified face from Tela, not even a hidden one; instead, a dimple peeks out for a moment, her cheeks not as pink as they had been, not even once K'zin says K'del's name. For that she nods; she murmurs sympathetically, too, "It sounds..." really really really, "awkward." But that's the background, until K'zin makes it otherwise; foregrounded is looking at him more steadily, pressing her teeth into her lower lip for a moment. "Thank you. I-- you don't have to but it, it really does mean a lot." Down low, where she isn't looking, a pompom moves with the curl and uncurl of her toes. There's a grunt that agrees with Telavi's assessment of the conversation-to-be with K'del. Then he listens to the rest. And once she's done speaking, he shifts, drawing one leg up onto the bed, keeping his boot carefully off and leaning forward across the distance between them to reach for her unoccupied hand. "Tela," His tone is serious, but gentle, "I'm going to ask them-" The leaders, "-to let me go stay at Fort when Isyath clutches. So I can help." This much is what he says, and then if he holds his breath waiting for a response... well, hopefully it won't be too long in coming. Of course he can have her hand, Tela curling her fingers about his; but the rest-- it's transparent how her eyes darken even as they widen with a little indrawn breath. "Just until the eggs hatch," K'zin's words come quickly once he sees her eyes and that look. They're meant to be reassuring. His fingers squeeze her own. "It's just that I don't want to be a deadbeat clutchdad, you know? It doesn't seem fair to leave her to deal with everything on her own. Even though they hate me there." She hadn't tried to hide her reaction from him before, and she doesn't try to hide it now, this quick nod and her quicker half-smile, too. "I believe in it," Tela says. "Though I don't know H'kon particularly, we talked a few times, and you'd be good and... does she hate you, K'zin? I don't see how she could hate you, but I might be just a tiny bit biased," and proud of it. "H'kon?" Those are K'zin's confused brows. But he doesn't linger on the mention of the unfamiliar brownrider. "She doesn't. But the rest..." He purses his lips a moment, debating, then, "My jacket 'went missing' during the flight." He admits. "I'd like to think it was a case of mistaken identity, but... chasing in Elaruth's flight, getting punched by the Weyrwoman, and then winning Isyath's... we've not endeared ourselves to Fort." He shifts his hand from gripping to entangling fingers, "If they let me go, and if they let me come... you'll visit me, right?" He takes a breath. "Because... I won't know if my invitations are actually getting to you..." Hazard of an uncooperative lifemate. "I heard he was Solith's sire, Arekoth I mean," but with two clutches and lots of chaos-- anyway, neither does Tela dwell, especially not when, "Your good jacket?" is offended on his behalf. "Oh, ugh. I'm sorry." She wrinkles her nose, and her fingers scoot even more in with K'zin's if that's possible. "It's not even like most other men could wear it and have it fit at all, and what a-- oh! Oh. Of course," and Telavi's sudden smile is brilliant, just looking and looking at K'zin's face for a long moment before she remembers to continue. "I'll visit you even if they chain you to the sands-rail.... do they have a sands-rail? I forget. Anyway, maybe even more then. And actually--" here she does pause, lifting the word into question, giving him a chance before she runs off at the mouth more. "Oh," That connects the dots enough, and K'zin gives a nod of his head. Then another nod for the jacket. "So, let me make sure I'm understanding you... You want them to chain me up?" A single brow arches at the greenrider even as he pulls at the hand he holds, meaning to draw her toward him. He shifts the brow just a little in questioning to encourage the rest of what she might've said. Telavi pets that older jacket that he's got on, all forgiving-like: it's not its fault. She might start to look a tiny bit concerned when K'zin starts in more seriously, but then relaxes, letting herself be drawn in more literally; along the way, "Now, I'm certain that any extra visiting would have to do with protecting you from fierce and... foolish Fortians, and not at all to do with taking advantage of your situation," but she does trail off awfully meaningfully before getting back to right, right, the rest. More slowly, "Before... well, what you said about not always being sure about messages? I've wondered what you'd think if I taught Biter to find you." It's not until K'zin has Tela situated in his lap, his arms curled loosely around her middle that he offers a response. Once more the tone is serious, "Let me make sure I'm understanding you," His furrowed brows make things more severe. "You want to teach the one that bites to find me." "Mmhmm." Tela glances up through her lashes. "I'm sure he wouldn't really bite you. Especially if there was bacon." "Oh, good. So I'll carry bacon in my pockets and then the green one will stalk me whether she wants to find me or not." K'zin tilts his head slightly, a smile sneaking past his guard and onto his lips. "Mimi." Not just any green one! "I'm sure no other firelizards would possibly notice," Tela tells him. "You wouldn't have fairs of them following you, looking for your..." She dips her head, investigating an outer pocket of his jacket like there might be some bacon in there right now. "Oh, sure, yeah." K'zin agrees, though his tone doesn't agree with the words, having a distinctly more 'yeah, right' sound. "I'm sure it won't mean Kazi's suddenly attached to my-- middle," Where the pocket is; the uninteresting, empty pocket. Not his usual jacket, "-wreaking havoc and causing more trouble than even Ras." "Middle." This time the repeated m-word is more amused, less mock-stern. "Definitely not." But, speaking of which... even as Tela leaves off the boring pocket for, for the second time this evening, the first fastening of that jacket-- "Do you think it might work, or might help at least? Firelizard messages. Not that it isn't strange to think of them as more reliable. And not that I'd have to wait for them..." "Maybe." K'zin answers, though even that sounds doubtful. "I think it's probably just better if you come visit." In this moment, the bronzerider can't possibly be thinking of how this 'just show up' plan could backfire, if he were to have another visitor. Or a couple of them! Tela looks up from her work to smile at him, so much more warm and glad than the beastly weather outside. "Okay." And she leans in to kiss him as though, for the moment, it's just that simple. |
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