Logs:Just to Mope
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| RL Date: 8 February, 2009 |
| Who: K'del, Phara |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Phara is mopey. K'del (hopefully) helps out, ink-mouth or no. |
| Where: K'del's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 15, Month 12, Turn 18 (Interval 10) |
| By this time of the turn, it now being more than halfway through month 12, it gets dark early at the Reaches. Afternoon has faded quickly into full dark, though it's still, surely, before dinner time, and in K'del's weyrs, the hearth and the glows are all lit. The weyrling (though not for much longer) is bent over his desk, composing something in between long, thoughtful sucks on his pen; outside, Cadejoth is all a-twitch, though he does not, at this point, seem inclined to actually take flight. Bennath bursts into the sky about the Reaches, bugling a reply to the watch dragon and then sending out a tendril of sound to Cadejoth. « May we? » he inquires politely, coming in towards the bronze on his ledge but not landing until he has permission. Phara dismounts when he lands, pulling off her flight goggles and rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hands. "K'del?" Does Bennath's arrival, his tendril, make Cadejoth sit up all the more eagerly? Why, yes it does. Excitement! That's what bubbles through his mind, twining through chains, in response to the blue. « Of course! » he agrees, graciously moving over so as to create room for him, and his rider. "Come on in," calls K'del, his voice radiating beyond the bubble of his weyr; Cadejoth must have warned him. "It's freezing out there, but I've got the hearth on." When she does come in, he turns about on his chair, smile warm, though slightly inky from his pen-sucking. Phara unbuttons her riding jacket as she comes into his weyr, her pink scarf a flash of bright color at her throat. "Yeah, pretty cold," she agrees, smiling at him shyly. "You have something...just there." She taps her lip. "Don't know if you know." K'del immediately lifts a hand to scrub at his lip, but the ink seems to be pretty indelible, and without confirming that he's made any kind of improvement, the hand drops again after a few moments. Oh well. "Thanks," he grins, all the same, leaning back lazily in his chair. "Can I get you a drink or something? Good to see you, anyway." He hasn't been to Fort since the flight. But at least he doesn't seem to be beating himself up over it, at the moment. Without waiting for an answer, he lunges from his chair, briefly, a creature made entirely of legs, then adds - "Really ought to get more chairs or something. Still. Make yourself at home?" Phara lets him try, and then lets it go when she sees its not coming off. She averts her eyes casually and looks around. "No thanks. I hope I'm not interrupting..." she glances at his work dubiously. "I wasn't sure you'd even want to see me, but I hoped..." She flinches when he surges forward, startled into looking at him. "Oh. Thanks." Her smile comes automatically. She looks around and then sinks gingerly onto the end of his bed, hands clasped in her lap. "How's it going?" No drink? That leaves K'del sort of hanging, for a moment as awkward as his age suggests he ought to be, but he recovers himself, grasping onto the back of his chair thoughtfully as she speaks. "Not at all," he promises. "Just a letter. Nothing important. What do you mean, not want to see you? Course I do." As she sits, he wanders over, settling down on the bed alongside her. "Good. It's going good. But... you all right, Phara? Something up?" Phara's head bobs like she's got a nail loose. "Okay then. I don't know. You could have decided you were mad at me, or ...done with me." Her eyes stray away again. She leaps up within a few moments of him sitting however, as twitchy as Cadejoth. "I'm fine," she sooths automatically, even as she paces over to trace the shapes in his rug with her foot. "Just needed to get out." "Mad at you? For what?" There's a pause, as K'del apparently attempts to work his way through this. "For looking out for me? For calling me on my own stupidity? Not that deluded, sweetheart." The endearment comes out naturally, as if without thinking; he carries on easily, watching her as she paces. "Glad you came, then. Rug needs some more wearing in." Phara continues her prowling like a creature caged, getting nosy as she pokes into everything she can find around eye level without actually digging into his things. As such, she's turning open a book when K'del wonders why he could be mad. "Didn't say you were deluded at all. Just wasn't my place." She closes the cover on the book lightly and straightens up, looking over her shoulder at him. "I'm sorry, what?" K'del leans back, though not to the point of lying down: his arms support him, allow him to keep watching her as she prowls, utterly unconcerned by it, to the point where, as she glances back, he just shrugs. Nothing, nothing. It's the earlier comment that he answers, quietly, "/Someone/ had to talk sense. Push me. Try. Appreciated it. Still do." He doesn't really wait for a response to that, instead adding, "If you pull up the rug, there's a panel in the floor that opens." Instead, he'll encourage the explorations. Her eyebrows furrow. She stares at him, completely still. "Alright then," Phara finally agrees, sounding more than a little uncertain. She takes his suggestion, peeling back the rug and finding this panel he speaks of. "Have they started tapping you guys yet?" she asks, attempting thinly at a conversation. Though the minute she asks her face screws up like she's not even sure if Cadejoth is the right age yet. K'del's expression, while she stares at him, is placid, but smiling. "Mean it," he tells her, in the face of that uncertainty, though he's distracted then by the removal of the rug. "Just flick the catch there, it'll come right up. No, not yet. Another seven until they're a turn old, so it'll be soon, I guess. /You/ talked to T'rev, yet, about what you need to do about getting promoted eventually?" Phara opens the catch as he instructs. "That's good, then. Congratulations." She trails off, tracing her fingertip around the outter lip of the secret compartment. "I talked to R'uen about it. That's better than T'rev. But I promised him a story about how pocket lint saved my life. I'm good, but I don't know if I'm that good. Do you think he'd believe that I was able to cobble together enough lint out of all of my pockets to fashion a ramp and thus keep at run away wagon from squishing me?" There at least, is a smirk more like the normal Phara. Beneath the panel, there's a single step leading down into a small depression - though it doesn't really need the step: it's really not that deep. There's a shelf at the back, with some books on it; otherwise, it's quite empty. "A little premature," he remarks of her congratulations, but he's grinning away: he's obviously excited. He doesn't laugh outright, for her story, but there's a definite quirk of his lips, and then, a full-blown grin. "Do you mean to say, that that /didn't/ happen?" Beat. "Reckon he might, if you added enough details. Like the shading of the lint. And... the look of the sky, that day. You know?" Phara lets her feet dangle down into the little depression. Goes for the books to pull into her lap. "Almost none of my stories have ever happened. It's just being convincing..I can do convicing. He'll like it either way," she decides, flipping curiously through the first book. It's pornography - drawings and stories, all very high quality. K'del seems unperturbed by this. "Sounds about right," he grins, stretching out his toes lazily. "So you think he'll find some way to promote you?" Phara traces her fingers down a page and then shuts the book again, folding her hands atop it. "Doubtful. But I tried." "Why doubtful? You don't think he thinks you're up to it?" K'del's gaze has narrowed, and not for the way she's shut his book. Then: "Are you sure you're all right? You seem..." Whatever it is she seems, he doesn't seem to have a word for it, and trails off, unconvincing and unconvinced. Phara shrugs her shoulders in a way that indicates she has no answer for him. "There's no openings. Maybe in a few Turns, when some of the older riders start retiring." She puts the books back, replaces the cover, turns the rug back down, and stays sitting cross legged on the floor. She's quiet for so long it's beginning to seem like she has nothing else to say. Unexpectedly, she opens her mouth. "No, I'm not sure anymore." K'del ohs; he doesn't really have an answer to that. Can't hurry retirements, after all. He watches her, intent, as she straightens the rug, barely blinking as she sits there, though something about it stops him from adding anything else. So he's still watching, still listening, if with a small measure of impatience, when she does finally speak. "Want to talk about it?" "What is there to say?" she wonders aloud, and her voice sounds flat even to her. A grimace forms itself on Phara's face. "I'm sorry. What kind of company am I, coming here just to mope." She shakes her head at herself as she gets up off the floor. K'del's mouth opens, then shuts again, his expression some kind of mixture of concern and overwhelmedness, though the former beats out the latter on the whole. His jaw sets, and when she speaks, his voice is stern. "You can mope all you like, Phara, I don't mind. But it'd be easier on me if you let me help. Or do you want distracting? Can do that, too." Phara catches just the corner of her lower lip between her eye teeth, turning her gaze on him. "You're assuiming you can help," she points out gently, kindly. She wanders back towards him, taking a circular path and eventually coming to rest beside him on the bed again. Her chin tips up to focus on the ceiling above her though. "What kind of distracting?" "Maybe I can't," agrees K'del in an even tone. "Would like to try, though. If there is any chance of my being helpful." His eyes remain on her, as she takes that circular path, and even as she settles upon the bed beside him, his whole head turning to face hers. "Depends on what kind you want. Could get you drunk. Could read to you. Could go flying. /Could/ make use of this very fine bed here. Up to you." Phara chews her lower lip and then gives up with a sigh, working her way up against his side and leaning her head into his shoulder. "Don't know if getting drunk would make anything better," she points out, the tiny smile reshaping on her mouth. "You have ink on your lip, I don't think I can kiss you while there's ink on your lip. And it's too cold to fly. What would you read to me?" K'del puts his arm around her as she leans in, laughing, though he uses his other hand to scrub at his lip again - still to no avail. "I-- hmm. Well. The latest novel put out by the harpers? It's a gift for someone, but I haven't wrapped it or anything, and I don't think she'd mind. It's an adventure story." Phara grins, tipping her head to keep her eyes on his face. "Still there," she informs him with cheer and places one hand against his chest, the other slipping around his waist. "And how did /you/ afford a new book, darling weyrling?" K'del's fingers curve over her shoulder affectionately, and he laughs. "Stubborn ink. Should teach me not to suck my pen, mmm?" Putting on what is obviously intended to be a grand and mysterious tones, he tells her, "I have ways of making a few marks. /Interesting/ ways." Beat. "Or. Well. The Harper who wrote it is my brother. We worked out a deal, and I paid him what I could to get it properly bound and everything. It's... for a twentieth turnday. Figure that's worth it." Another pause. "Means I'll have to think up something interesting for you, too, before too much longer, right?" Phara hums happily and melds herself even closer, letting her eyes close. "Your brother? Really? Shells, the best thing my brother ever gave me was this nifty round rock that had all sorts of pretty purple crystals inside when he broke it open. Called it a geode." She thinks about it for a moment and nods her head. "Three months yesterday. But you don't have to get me anything." K'del lifts his free hand, stroking Phara's hair gently. "Sounds pretty," he says of the geode. "Eh, I'll be paying that debt off for turns, most likely. Taking him wherever he wants to go, making personal deliveries for him. It's going to get old. But: worth it. I think the person it's for will like it." Repeating, "Three more months, yesterday," it sounds as though he's committing the date of her turnday to memory; he laughs. "It's a twentieth. Figure that's an important one. Worth a gift. Just have to find something perfect." "Second month, seventeenth day," Phara says, just so he can think about it an easier way. "Why do /you/ remember how old I'm going to be when I don't? Rhodya asked me how old I was going to be, and I had to do the math based on how old Bennath was. Shows how much I pay attention." A bit of his shirt is curled into her fingers. "Was pretty. You tell him that brothers are for favors, and not to take advantage." She falls silent. "You like her a lot then?" Again, K'del repeats the date, setting it, presumably, into his memory. "Not sure. Though I guess I know a few girls between the ages of nineteen and twenty-one, so it helps me narrow it down." He's grinning. "Don't suppose it matters so much, in the end. Age. At least once you get to a certain age." Fondly, he continues to stroke her hair. "He did have to pay for the thing. It's not so bad a deal." Then: "Mmm? Oh. Well. Sure. Much like I like you, if in a different way, because you're different people. Not in a 'settling down to be with one person forever' kind of way." Phara frowns, her head ducked down under his hand so he can't see. "Doesn't matter much, really, either way. A Turn ahead, a Turn forward, it's not really so much time." She stiffens a little, sitting up casually like she just wasn't comfortable and needed to change position. "Mm. Don't really need to know where I rank on the scale." "Suppose," allows K'del, oblivious to the frown, though he's watching the way her head ducks thoughtfully. "But you only turn twenty once." As she stiffens and shifts, he hesitates, both hands staying where they are, if more loosely, though they'll clearly drop away if she pushes it. "There is no scale. And no ranking. You're-- you. Phara. Someone I like and respect. Find attractive. Hope to continue to see for some time to come." Beat. "What's up, Phara?" Phara's jaw clenches for a moment and she swallows and then relaxes. "That's me. Phara." She chuckles weakly and sighs, passing a hand over her face. "I don't know, K'del. I just... don't know any more. Anything." She rests her hands in her lap, fingertips drumming against her thighs. K'del hesitates, visibly, and then his arm squeezes over her shoulder, holding her as tightly as she'll let him. "Tell me," he suggests, in a very light tone, encouraging her without pressuring her. "About everything. Anything. Whatever." Phara glances up at him, lets him pull her in and relaxes slowly against him. "I don't really know what to say, or where to start. I just don't feel well." K'del extends his other arm, too, so that both of them wrap around the bluerider as she relaxes against him. His expression remains hesitant, as though he's struggling to find the right words for this situation, being unused, perhaps, to this. "Then," he says, finally, "Shall I just hold you for a while?" Phara nods her head meekly a few times. "I would really like that," she agrees, and then smiles just a fraction, twisting her head to look at him. "But... the ink... oh, the ink..." grin. K'del, adult, sticks out his tongue at her. "Too bad," he responds, grinning, as he pulls her closer still. It's sort of an awkward position, though, and he hesitates - then, after a moment, he withdraws his arms, and wiggles backwards until he's leaning up against the bed-head, pillows behind him, and extends his arms. "Anyway," he continues, as if there's been no break in the conversation, or the holding. "I said /hold/ you, not kiss you. Don't need to go anywhere near my inky mouth." Phara waits for him to get comfortable, and then crawls forward, resettles into the curve of his arm and runs her hand up his chest and along the side of his neck. "Hmph. Maybe /I/ would like to kiss you. Even with your inky mouth. But fine. Just hold me. I see how it is." K'del wraps his arms back around her, companionably, and laughs. "If you would /like/ to kiss me, Phara, I suppose I will let you. If the ink won't maim you or anything; I wouldn't want to be responsible for that." Phara smirks, nimble fingers pinching playfully at the tender spot below his ribs. "Let me? /Let me/?" She huffs and turns her face away, snubbing him. "I see, I see. You'll just let me." K'del yelps at her pinch, one hand immediately sliding down to protect himself, while the other presses a finger into her shoulder. "None of that!" he tells her, teasingly. "Or I'll be forced to pin you down and kiss you senseless. Ink-faced and all." Phara sniffs indignantly, managing to put the pout into her voice as well as her face. "Well don't trouble yourself. I'd hate for you to strain something, letting me and all." Now it's her turn to stick her tongue out at him. Oh so grown up. Impressive. K'del's eyes dance, amused. "Mmm, you're probably right. When you're as old as I am, injuries like that don't heal very well. We'd better just sit here, quite still. Just in case." Phara rolls her eyes, looking much abused. "I ought to beat you up, just for that. If you're old, I'm a fossil." Her hand curls firmly around his jaw for a moment and then releases, her hand sliding lazily down to his chest again. "Well. If that's what you want. I don't mind just sitting here. Quite still." K'del's gaze lingers up and down her body, with no attempt to hide the honest appraisal. "Mm, maybe. But a well preserved one, at least. Good condition," he teases. "Still, you? Like to see you try." Phara smiles just a little. "Thanks, you're so charming. I can sit still. Butthead." To prove it, she turns over so that her back is against his side, using the crook of his elbow for a pillow. Her hands curl around his forearm and she closes her eyes. "Still is my middle name." "'Butthead'? Is this what we've resorted to now?" But K'del is grinning, openly. "You're smiling. This is an improvement. Even if you do want to face away like that." He won't move, though. Phara opens her mouth to set teeth against his skin in warning. "If you're going to make my hold still, I have to resist temptation. I wouldn't want to have to make you 'let me' do anything, after all." K'del's forearm twitches slightly, so close to her teeth, but remains otherwise still. So, too, does the rest of him. "Well, of course. That would be tragedy. For all involved. Quite right, quite right. We'll stare at opposite walls or something." Phara loses. She sighs in frustration, flips back over again and lands half-atop him, folding her arms across his chest and propping her chin up on top. Close, oh so close. "You know... there's more to holding a person than just putting your arms around them and laying still." That would be satisfaction, on K'del's face. His arms come around, one running through her hair, then down her neck, the other reaching to run down her cheek. "Educate me, then," he prompts, with a smile. "Show me." "You cheated," Phara accuses, but she doesn't seem angry. Her eyelashes flutter a little as her eyelids droop closed, a breathy sigh escaping. "Oh, I think you're off to a good start. Why don't we see where intuition leads you first?" "Me, cheat?" The implication would be 'impossible', but K'del looks rather too satisfied for that. "Mmm, am I? Okay. Well, that's a hint, at least." His hands continue to roam, idly, languidly, though before too much longer, both reach out to begin rubbing at her shoulders. He's in the wrong position to easily be able to give a proper massage, and it's obviously not something he's terribly experienced with - but still. Phara closes her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. "See, you're a natural. The little movements are the best. So the person you're holding knows you haven't fallen asleep and are still thinking about them. Big movements have their place, but not as often as the little movements." She moves her hands, trailing them down his sides to his hips, coming to a rest comfortably there. "I'd take notes, but my hands are busy," teases K'del, as his hands continue to roam - stroking here, rubbing here, tracing circles here and there and everywhere. "So. Lots of little movements. And just continue that?" Phara sighs again in satisfaction, nuzzling her face into his chest for a few moments. "Well, you can't be perfect. That's good. Very holdy-ish." Eventually her chin lifts, tipping her head back. "Mm... this is the part where our eyes casually meet and you kiss me?" she prompts gently, looking like she thinks herself quite clever. K'del, idly, pets at her hair as she nuzzles his chest, laughing. "No, can't be perfect. That'd be boring. Then, I'd always have the advantage." As she tips her head back, his eyes glint - amused. "Ah, is it? You'd better come up here, then, so I can reach." P'ax snorts. "That would be a change for you, eh, seeing as I always have the upper hand?" Grinning lazily, she pats his chest. "That just defeats the purpose of /you/ kissing /me/," she points out petulantly, but puts her weight onto her elbow to put herself closer to his face. Even if he does have inky lips. "/Do/ you?" K'del's expression, and his tone, are utterly level as he asks this, clearly intending to put doubt upon this statement, without actually dismissing it altogether. Her next point, however, he appears to concede, because he puts his arms around her, and pulls, leaning his own head down to capture aforementioned kiss. Inky lips, or no. Phara's answer is muffled by the kiss, but it sounds a little like "I do." She lets herself be pulled in, and the kiss starts off gentle. Shifting her knee in between his legs and planting her hands on either side of him changes the angle, her lips pressing just a little more desperate, a little more hungry than they were a second ago. And that response from K'del? That might be a snort. But it is, likewise, really quite muffled - particularly as her side of the kiss intensifies, and he has, really, no option not to follow suit (nor inclination, it might be noted, to fail to do so). He plants his hands securely upon her hips, fingers traipsing lazily beneath her clothes, though without any apparent intention - yet - to do more than trail down her skin lightly. At length, he breaks off the kiss, pulling his head back just slightly to inspect her face. "No ink. You're safe." Breathless. Phara stares at him for a moment after the kiss breaks, her breathing equally fast. Two bright spots of color burn in her cheeks. She ducks her head with a weak laugh and exhales, resting her forehead on his chest for a moment. "Not the ink I'm in danger from." "No? Could be poison ink," he suggests, hands staying where they are as she rests her forehead down. "/Could/ all be a big plot." He takes in a deep breath, exhales it, then another, his own cheeks equally flushed. "But if you're concerned... about the danger." Phara laughs into his chest, a little wildly. "You'd be dead, if it was, Mr. I suck on my pens." She lifts her chin, leans in to kiss him again. "Do I seem like the kind of girl who's concerned about danger?" she whispers. "Might have taken an antidote," retorts K'del, eyes dancing again, mirth visible in his expression, his voice, in the way his fingers strum against her hips. "Mmm," he agrees, around the kiss, "Perhaps not." "Might be a liar," counters Phara in one of those brief moments where she stops to catch her breath. "I'm not. I eat it, for breakfast." Her eyes twinkle as she leans in near his ear. "And I'm going to eat you next." K'del works his fingers further beneath her shirt, as he leans in to those kisses. "For breakfast?" More kissing. "And I'm lunch?" "Maybe dinner too, if you're especially delicious..." promises Phara in a husky voice, catching his ear in her mouth. "If! /If/!" teases K'del, though his breath has quickened enough that it doesn't quite have the same impact it might, otherwise. He won't let her limit herself to his ear for long, however: he has more kisses, and more hands, and really, the rest of him is much more tasty than the ear, promise. |
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