Logs:Not Okay
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| RL Date: 3 July, 2015 |
| Who: Telavi, Yesia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Telavi confronts Yesia. |
| Where: The Random Room of Some Resident, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 17, Month 1, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'zin/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated! |
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| The first day was snippy. The second day's been icy. It's after the day's duties, when weyrlings are supposed to get to do fun things like wash their hair and flirt and get extra sleep, when there's a tug on Yesia's arm en route and Tela hauling her into a dimly-lit room. The room's resident isn't there to see, though, Tela's not happy expression before she pushes the other greenrider from her and slams the door. Yesia needs a hair wash, after today. She's so keen on it she doesn't even notice anybody else as she makes haste to the bathing caverns, with her towel over her shoulder and a jar of sweetsand in her hand. She should have been paying more attention; she might dodged an angry greenrider, that way. But no. She makes a startled squeaking sound, her eyes going wide, and her alarmed confusion is partway because she doesn't know who to expect when she's dragged into that room, or what will happen. When she sees Telavi in the dim light, though, she whooshes a sigh of relief--too soon. "Shells, Telavi. Don't play like that. You scared me." "Good." The slam's followed by the thunk of the deadbolt. "We," Telavi tells Yesia, "are off duty." There's a stamp of her heel, just her heel, to go with it. If Quinlys-- and her pretty pink drinks-- had had some mollifying effect, if it took Telavi's working herself back up instead of cutting the other girl off wholesale, it can't be allowed to show; this is a lesson. "I can't believe you did that." Yesia draws away from Telavi, her eyes wide, mouth in a small 'o' of surprise. She's gaping. "What are you --" she starts, then hesitates, and something obviously clicks in her mind. Even so, she finishes, "What are you talking about? What did I do?" "Why don't you think about it a little bit more." Telavi even pinches the air between them. That expression, it's not one she's ever turned on Yesia before. "I --" begins the younger rider, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm...I didn't mean it, Telavi." That, right there, is Telavi's disbelieving look. Yesia bites her lower lip, chancing a look. What meets her eyes turns her defensive, and she crosses her arms over her chest, like it will ward off anything. "I don't know what you want me to say," is indignant, and also a lie. Telavi practiced that single brow-lift in the mirror, back before she was even a teenager, and she uses it now to a dizzying height. In return, Yesia echoes her expression. With both brows. Double the effect. But she's silent, still defensive. And flicking her gaze to the door. To escape. "Let me out," she finally says. "You're not allowed to do this. There are rules about everything, there has to be rules about..." whatever they're doing. Except the use of both brows means that Telavi smiles, suddenly and a little too sweetly, and had she really sharpened her teeth before catching Yesia? Both brows hasn't nearly the level of difficulty. If there are rules... well, she has a pretty little shrug. "I haven't heard," she says, "you say why." It's abruptly clear she's not coercing Telavi into anything, not now, and possibly not ever again. "It doesn't mean anything," Yesia says, with the audacity to be angry, like she has any right. "Not here. It means nothing. I just thought--" "Yes?" That might be Telavi being convinced; it's no secret she's Weyrbred. It might also be... rope. Yesia can't tell the difference. "He was offering, Telavi. Why would he say that...and come to my weyr, if that wasn't what he wanted?" Telavi crinkles her nose at that, and if it's not just because of the redhead... "Offering," she says with a sniff, "is more like," and here she adopts a deep voice and makes her shoulders all square and bulgy, "'Hey, Yesia. How about we get it on." Yesia shouldn't laugh. She knows she shouldn't, but they do impressions to elicit joy and beyond that it's funny, so she can't help but snicker at it. She reels that in quickly, though, sobering. "Yes, if you're H'vier, that's how you offer. But...not K'zin." Blue-today eyes narrow quite as though Tela had caught a student snickering in class, and she's not going to laugh along. She's not. "H'vier, ugh," she brushes that man right off. But K'zin-- a different clutch, she might have been defensive or doubtful, but here and now, "No." It's almost sympathetic, could even be condescending if it weren't so simply certain. "He wasn't. He was trying to help because all this is... awkward, and you made it worse. Worse worse worse worse worse. And if you're sorry, it's not like you act it." Even Telavi has to take a deeper breath sometimes. Blue-today eyes narrow quite as though Tela had caught a student snickering in class, and she's not going to laugh along. She's not. "H'vier, ugh," she brushes that man right off. But K'zin-- a different clutch, she might have been defensive or doubtful, but here and now, "No." It's almost sympathetic, could even be condescending if it weren't so simply certain. "He wasn't. He was trying to help because all this is... awkward, and you made it worse. Worse worse worse worse worse. And if you're sorry, it's not like you act it." Even Telavi has to take a deeper breath sometimes. Telavi doesn't laugh with her. That's the thing that does it, that really sets her on edge, visibly, and she ducks her gaze. Is she sorry? Yesia has to think about it, her eyes wide, the inside of her cheek caught between her teeth. Eventually she says, "Just when I think I understand this place, I have it all wrong." It's a powerful confession from the younger woman, and one that maybe only Tela would get; certainly she wouldn't confess it to her peers or Quinlys. "On the one hand," she holds out her left, palm up, "you tell us, 'Find someone you trust to have sex with', because you're a dragonrider and you'll be doing it a lot, and on the other," there's the right, "people hold things on pedestals. I got made fun of for being from a hold, for being so worried about this stuff, Tela. And then I tried to get over it and you --" She trails off, not accusing, but looking disappointed, hurt, confused. She ducks her gaze; Telavi prims her lips. Her eyes haven't softened, surely. Except-- no. "What do you mean, 'hold things on pedestals?'" asked quietly. Yesia's hands drop in frustration. "I guess I don't know. I thought - isn't everything just open? Doesn't it have to be, if Solith rises and someone not K'zin catches her?" Further than that, "If Rasavyth were to chase Aeaeth and catch her, would we not be friends anymore?" "It's what people decide on," Telavi says sharply, and then her mouth is tight again. There's one question she doesn't answer, one answer with a heavy presupposition. "Flights are different," she says. "Flights you can't help. Hitting on my," let's call him her, "boyfriend is not in any way whatsoever a flight." Those aren't tears, don't you dare think it. It's just dusty in this room, and her allergies have been latent since the first freeze. She's not stupid, not entirely. "I'm sorry. I -- " Telavi never ever has tears like that, ever and certainly wouldn't recognize them in anyone else, ever. Allergies for everyone! She crosses her arms more tightly and prompts with an ungracious nod. Yesia's mouth works a little, but no words come out. There are too many, or not enough. "I'm just sorry," she says softly. "I wasn't trying to. Hurt you, or." Whatever. "I didn't mean to -- well I meant to, but not like that. Please don't be mad at me. I don't -- you're my friend." Right? She sounds equal parts adamant and hopeful. "Like what, then?" Telavi's voice is quieter if not precisely softer. "Do you think that because we aren't all over each other in front of all of you," they try not to get caught anyway, "it doesn't matter? Did you think at all about, oh, checking with me first? It's not like Solith and Aeaeth don't get along," the implication only in passing that some dragons don't. "I meant to kiss him," Yesia says, coloring and bracing herself, because riders can be scarily violent. "But I didn't think, I just didn't -- everyone has diferent rules. And - what do you want me to say?" She's frustrated trying to explain herself, and it's clear when she says, "That I'm just as stupid as everyone thinks? Fine. I am. I'm stupid and holdbred and even Aeaeth hasn't changed it. I made a stupid mistake in ever leaving Crom. It would be better if I wasn't here." That escalated quickly. "Think! If you cared, you'd think!" Telavi doesn't wait for Yesia, her eyes too bright. "'Stupid holdbred stupid stupid' la la la you say that but she's how old now, you've been here how long? You'd run away? It's not okay!" A pregnant silence hangs there between them, Yesia's hands up and hovering near her mouth. She just gapes at Telavi, jaw-slack, and for once, has absolutely no rejoinder, no defense, nothing. For the first time ever. "Not okay," comes with Telavi's accelerated step towards the other girl. It's quieter but, "Ugh! Yesia!" isn't. "If you were--" who's naming names? "I'd say, good riddance, but no!" "I know!" Yesia squeaks, retreating back, not that there's far to go. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She's shaking her head, those curls bouncing with more levity than the situation warrants. Good riddance sets her into a frenzy, of sorts, and she's making haste to beg, "Please don't make me go, Telavi, you're my best friend. I didn't think, I'll think next time, all the time, more, anything you want, if you forgive me." She probably missed the, but no. There's begging and then there's... Tela's hands go up, waving, all but flailing. Like she has the power to make Yesia go or anything, "You don't get to go, you don't ask to go, do you hear me? No going and no hitting on K'zin and no--" there's got to be a third, "not-friend-y stuff. The way she says it, that's the most important of all, because it is. There's sighs of relief and then there's... Yesia's shoulders sag in hers, and the sound she makes at the end is almost a laughing little sob. She tugs the cuff of her sweater down over the heel of her hand, to wipe at her allergies. "I'm sorry," she says again, in case it wasn't clear. "Does this mean we're still friends? Even though I'm ...not very good at it sometimes?" More 'allergies.' Telavi eyes them, her hands settling over her forehead for a moment before drifting downward. "I... I hope so. I think so?" Still Yesia's boss, for now, but... "I mean, it's not like shielding glows and, snap, not being bothered just like that. Give me a seven maybe." Telavi, forgiving?! At least, unless something else happens, in which case boom. The smile that hesitated at the edges of Yesia's expression comes a little faster, still careful, and not as bright as the ones the pair often share, but nevetheless impossible to hold back in her relief. She nods her agreement, "Okay, yeah. I can - I'll give you space. I can ask J'vain or Quinlys, if I have troubles." See? She's trying! "Not like that," not away, "just," Telavi has to wade amidst emotions to try and think. She comes up with, "Ask me whatever, on duty it's anything, just don't be surprised if sometimes I'm a little... picky." 'Picky.' Twitch goes the side of her mouth. Yesia doesn't seem to like that notion, but she still agrees, "Alright." Quieter. She chews on her lip. "Thanks," seems in order, too, even though it fills the silence awkwardly. Tela lifts her shoulders for a moment, just a little shrug, her head tilted; "I'm glad we could talk," she says in a rush. "That we could-- that it wasn't forever." It could have been. "Me too. I would have hated that." Where that is 'myself' if Telavi can read between the lines. "Can I --" she makes a face, plucking at the towel still over her shoulder and tipping her head towards the deadbolted door. Reading that, Telavi's eyes are wide and blue and... touched; then she's turning around as though seeing freedom for the first time. "What? Oh. Yes, of course. You need to wash your hair." She unbolts the door and starts outside... only to find a pair of puzzled-looking people staring at them. Tela might be used to that, though, the way she smiles at them-- brightly!-- and moves to whisk Yesia off and into laughter. |
Comments
Edyis (02:48, 4 July 2015 (MDT)) said...
Ok. Yes. Yesia deserves a little wrath. But I still feel bad for her throughout this whole thing. :(
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