Logs:Means to an End
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| RL Date: 7 January, 2016 |
| Who: Ka'ge, Lys |
| Involves: Fort Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After Ka'ge loses Solith's flight, Lys provides comfort. They each have their own reasons, and they both get what they want (sort of? weirdly?), except not names. |
| Where: East Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 5, Month 10, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| OOC Notes: Sex. |
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| Evyth is still in the bowl, still looking up at a flight she surely can no longer see. Lys is just far enough away from the exit to the guest weyr to be overlooked by the majority of the losers on their way out, in the shadow of the rock. Only when Ka'ge is making his departure is there a sharp whistle, and a, "Bronzerider," called quietly. It's loud enough that at least one other man looks, but evidently none are so bold as to dare the dark, even when it's a pretty voice that calls. Zymadiath churns in the air above, angling in an easy, guided fall down from whatever more grand elevation the flight had ended. As a shadow follows beneath a bird swooping down a cliff face, so too does Zymadiath seem liquid and eerie in his grace. He'd follow the contour of 'Reaches' heights before leveling out with a single calculated backwing to stop his horizontal glide and set talons into soil. Too-contrasted eyes against dark mask whirl slowly, steadily, with irritated oranges coloring over the facets in place of the lust that was once there. Ka'ge exits the guest weyr following an only peripherally-noted Reachian bronzerider carrying another rider over his shoulder. But his attention doesn't follow them, caught up in a more internalized conversation. He misses less, at least, the whistle-call earning a gaze slanted curiously towards its direction. Recognition of the voice that calls gives him pause more than the from where it's come- no stranger to such places, and perhaps more interested because of it. And his path shifts, unhurried steps bringing him closer. Hands in pockets, head tilted down just-so, though his head is free of its typical cover. "Curious of the results, are you?" He asks, nonchalant, as he gets close enough to keep his voice low, "Or seeing what you can scavenge of the remains." As he draws closer, she steps out of shadow to look at his face. Hers is impassive at first, but she lets a smile touch her lips as she takes another step forward and grabs fistfuls of his shirt. "Shut. Up," is pretty clear instruction, only the hands in his shirt are seeking to pull him back with her into the shadow of the wall. "I thought you wanted me to entertain you." Lys murmurs, infusing the last words with suggestion even as she seeks to become pinned between bronzerider and wall. It takes little more than the first command and the first tug to make Ka'ge's pressure shift from casual to one with intent. His eyes narrow as he first watches her expression, that already entertained and clearly interested manner that's further lightened by the lines crossing his face from his slowly growing grin. As he falls into the shadows with her, he only grows more bold, granting her exactly what she seeks. He stops only when her back touches stone, a hand planted on the rock beside her head, himself only slightly more than chest to chest close- just enough to allow his eyes to observe a little more than her eyes, unrestrained. "And your sock puppets?" Quieter, almost-but-not quite a whisper, so-close as to be able to kiss her but temptingly one breath away. And his free hand, well, gloved as it may be, can be felt to explore the side of her thigh- making its way steadily higher. It surely wasn't for Ka'ge's convenience that Lys is in a skirt tonight, but luck seems to be on their side in this. Once she has him where she wants him, Lys' hands are moving down to Ka'ge's waist, seeking to make him as easily accessed as she might shortly be. "Keep talking about sock puppets and see how far we get," she tells him deadpan before turning her head to seek his throat with her teeth, lightly grazing before she kisses him there. No doubt can be then left as to the greenrider's purpose. "Hurry up," might be mistaken for genuine want, the way she says it breathily, encouraging. Ka'ge's short, gruff laugh can be felt more than heard, his warm breath against the side of her head where he presses his cheek. The teeth against his neck provoke a growl- a good kind of growl, but aggressive all the same. The hand that had been 'caging' her against the wall is revoked briefly to assist in drawing down his laced pants just enough. The complicated harness-like belt he has on under his flight jacket would be an annoying thing to want anything more than that. But her hurry makes that a mute point, and with one hand hiking her skirt to her hip to play his fingers in the crease between thigh and waist, his other grabs her behind roughly. Lifting her is too-easy unless she struggles otherwise, a graceful movement to set her hips to his. It's too-easy, she even helps, moving her legs to wrap around his hips and lock her heels together, using her arms to pull herself up, if perhaps a little painfully against the wall to help him aim well. Lys wants no mistakes, just a quick fuck (apparently). Once situated for that, she conveniently (for her) keeps her mouth busy against his neck, letting the flesh there muffle any sound she might make. It sounds complimentary at any rate. Would he really notice if it's just a little fake right now? Ka'ge works across her collar bone, or at least along the edge of her tunic and back, rough kisses, tasting her skin where he may, and reveling in it. There's quiet, muffled heavy breathing as he draws his head away slightly afterwards, all his focus on the necessary. Eventually, it's not that he tires, but that he slows, tellingly. And then stops after just a couple moments more, stepping just slightly closer to the wall to press her between him and it. Heated under all his layers, his chest rising and falling in the effort- but not exhausted, mind. He intentionally takes a long second to place one more kiss on her neck. It's not romantic nor is it affectionate. Maybe appreciative is better, lustful, and despite it all, still wanting. He sets her down- even if not fully releasing her yet. If he catches her lie, he makes no note of it, following her wishes either way. Drawing his head back after to look at her, there's a smile there- bold, of course. "Do I get to know the name of this weyrling now?" She seems perhaps a little relieved as he shifts to set her down, but it's quickly replaced with surprise. Lys lifts brows as she looks up at him. "Why would you want to know that?" As if this weren't a strange question to ask after what they've just done. "I have a problem with curiosity." Ka'ge's voice denotes, still barely above a whisper, eerie in its semi-purr. "And secrets." "Sounds like a hard problem to have," Lys answers in a murmur, his problem, that is. Her head leans back against the rock though she still looks up at him. "I think we're done here, aren't we?" She's a little flushed, and there's an edge of nerves in her voice, but she keeps her expression fairly neutral. Ka'ge has no reservations about bringing a couple fingers up to touch her hair, to stroke it back, wanted or not. He watches her eyes, his grin darkening, a mixture of sinister and mischievous. "Of course." Is given, and all at once with it he steps back releasing the pressure he'd kept, pulling his heavy pants up into place to be laced there. His attentiveness leaves her, whatever he'd been looking for in her expression either found or given up on. A hand shifts under his jacket at his back, adjusting something there back into place. "Be careful, you and yours." If that's supposed to be a thank you, it fails pretty hard since he chuckles with it, intending to turn away as he speaks. Lys doesn't move, doesn't flinch, but does stare hard at him, as if the intimacies were in a moment passed, and now she's more liked to bite his gloved hand than kiss it. Still, she does neither. When his attention leaves her, she's quick to pull her underwear out of her waistband and drag it on under the skirt before resettling them and stepping around him to move off toward her dragon, with only another, "Bronzerider," to bid him farewell. |
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