Logs:Old Friends
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| RL Date: 12 February, 2013 |
| Who: Jo, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: It's been a long time since Jo and K'del talked. |
| Where: Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 20, Month 13, Turn 30 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Heavy rain in the middle of winter only means that the temperature is only a few degrees above freezing; it's more miserable for the soaking torrents. |
| Mentions: Iolene/Mentions |
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| Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr Wedged between the lake and the rest of the vast bowl are the dusty feeding grounds. Here, the well-trampled ground is contained by a sturdy wooden fence, cutting right through one end of the lake to section it off into a muddy watering hole for the animals. Several gates allow people in and out, while at the back, large overhangs of rock provide the herd -- a mixed bag of herdbeasts, wing-clipped wherries, and fat porcines -- shelter from storms or the hot sun. What grass survives is usually bloodstained, but feeding troughs are stationed around the edges of the pen. Heavy rain in the middle of winter only means that the temperature is only a few degrees above freezing; it's more miserable for the soaking torrents. K'del doesn't often accompany his bronze to the feeding grounds for meals (Cadejoth's a big boy, now: he doesn't need supervision), and today seems an unlikely time to start, given the heavy rain, but for whatever reason, they're both out here today. K'del perches uneasily upon a fencerail, hunched over in a relatively useless attempt to keep the rain from completely drowning him. At least he has a raincoat, a heavy-duty thing that offers a reasonable amount of protection, and might render him anonymous if it weren't for Cadejoth's rather more obvious presence in the pens themselves. The nicked and scratched lithe form of the blue Tacuseth landing in the pens so suddenly out of the sky would probably alert anyone in the vicinity. He swoops down close by Cadejoth with a rumbling sound, already getting his claws into something fat and juicy without chase. In the rains, one can see his black leathered rider approaching much slower than he does, hands shoved into pockets and her shoulders hunched forward as if that was going to stem off the rain from her body. Her hair plastered to her face gives a sort of sinister quality to Jo overall, save for that stalking gait of hers that just exudes some kind of presence. She looks over towards the pens to spy those dragons present before she's heading towards the man in the heavy raincoat - not yet close enough to recognize him just yet. K'del isn't necessarily watching Cadejoth as the bronze tears into the throat of his kill, sucking down delicious morsels, but he's not so busy not-watching that he's not alerted to Tacuseth's arrival. Cadejoth, too, rumbles a greeting to the blue, but really: food is more important. The bronzerider turns, watching Jo's approach with measured caution, though that's hard to read in his expression given the low visibility of the rain, and how low the hood of his coat is pulled over his eyes. With Tacuseth himself tearing into his quickly-gotten meal, Jo moves to settle right next to him on the fencerail, making the two of them look like conspirators in the thick rain. She doesn't seem to care one lick that she's soaked all the way through, her hands only removing from her pockets long enough to hoist herself up on the rail beside him. Since K'del has his hood low, she doesn't seem to recognize him. However, with her gaze getting that look a rider gets when there's communication going on with their dragons, when her dark gaze focuses once more, there's detection of low laughter mingling in with the sound of the rain. Her eyes on the dragons and their kills, "Cadejoth's," comes her low drawl, perhaps her voice familiar. "Been a long time." "Tacuseth's," says K'del, with a definite note of amusement. "Have you forgotten my name, Jolie?" Beat. "Jo. It's Jo now, isn't it?" His hands grip tighter to the fencepost, and his gaze slides off into the distance, focusing on-- perhaps nothing at all, it's hard to tell, but certainly not the bluerider herself. "Guess you no longer needed my friendship, once you had him." He's presumably talking about Tacuseth, though it's worth noting that he doesn't seem to be all that serious in his accusation; he's not hurt. "K'del," Jo now supplies the name, the tone saying it being a caress of familiar suggestion. Of familiar trouble. "Of course, I haven' forgotten ya," and her head turns now to regard the man beside her, though she can't see much of him in the hood. There's some silence to his last, however, though there's some sort of amusement lingering after it as she chooses to answer, "I always need friends, darlin', though, in those days...I do admit I didn' treat them all that well with my preoccupation." Was that an apology? From the convict rider, it could be. "And well...ya had yer business to deal with at the time, Weyrleader. I had mine." She doesn't explain it, though, her weyrlinghood and the few turns after it were of her and other convict riders being spent as inconspicuous as possible. Lips drawn into a lingering smile now, "Yer just disappointed we never went ridin'," she brings up the memory, hers being rather sharp as her smile bears teeth. Even with his hood, K'del's smirk is clearly visible, especially when he turns it towards Jo. "Maybe I am," he says, teasing lightly. "You're just a big tease, clearly." He's silent, after that, and rather looks as though he's deep in thought, his gaze slipping back towards Cadejoth, whose maw is bloody, and whose eyes whirl with contentment as he continues to gorge. "Guess I did. Plenty of business, between one thing and another." A lot has happened in K'del's world since Jo's Impression, that's for sure, and his tone is pregnant with the moment of it. "But here we are. Riderhood seems to be suiting you, though?" To that smirk, "I like to be at times, yes," Jo agrees on being a tease, that smile hitches even more through the rain. "But Tac's sudden invasion had other plans for me. Still," and she regards K'del rather speculatively now, "an offer's an offer, and I've let it still stand. I'm not the same woman I was back then, but, somethin' tells me ya aren' the same man that talked to me all those turns ago, either." She watches him fall deep into thought before she turns her own gaze back to her blue, still at feast. "I heard," she says, on his business not looking his way. "I wasn' around much, but I've heard. Sorry 'bout Iolene, darlin'. 'Bout all of it. Death can change a person. I would know." She looks sidelong at him now, letting the silence linger between them before he brings up the last and that has a lopsided grin appearing and her nodding a few times. "Yeah. Here we are, and I've grown into it," and she looks down, pulling a hand free from a pocket to pat at her own black riding jacket. "Took many turns, though. Life I had back then, this Weyr life was hard to adjust to. Add to it a dragon up in yer head, goin' through all yer secrets..." K'del shakes his head as she renews her offer, but he's distracted from answering by the rest of what Jo has to say, his expression darkening, more rueful and sad than hopelessly depressed. "Thanks," he says, the word barely audible over the sound of the driving rain. "Mm. We're all different, after Impression. Takes time to figure out who we are now - K'del, not Kasadel. Jo, not Jolie. Even when people don't change their names." He lets his legs swing against the fenceposts, muddy shoes leaving marks against the wood. "And who are ya now, K'del, not Kasadel?" Jo can't help but to ask, brows lifting somewhat at that remark, and the one after it. She studies his darkening expression, hers seeming to remain so at ease with smiles still touching lips - though there's always that underlying guardedness in place. "Change is necessary," she suddenly notes, her tone one of casual ease and nonchalance - like she could have nothing to worry about. "For some, a necessary evil." "A father," says K'del, promptly. "Cadejoth's rider. Former Weyrleader. A dragonrider loyal to High Reaches, for now and always. Not sure it's possible to really put these things in words, though. Can't just sum myself up in a couple of sentences." His bare fingers grip more tightly to the wood beneath them, pale - nearly blue - with cold and wet, but still holding on all the same. "Change happens whether we want it or not," he agrees. "Sometimes for the better, sometimes not. We just have to make the best of it, and make sure we're doing everything we can to help it along. Rather not go through life regretting things I might have done, could have said." Jo inclines her head to that, though she counters with, "Ya were those things before, save for the former Weyrleader part. I'm more interested in what's changed here," and she lifts a couple of long fingers to tap a few times at her temple meaningfully. "Who ya are there." Eyes drop to his own fingers and find them too pale, but K'del's next distracts her away enough to have her fitting a rather sardonic twist to lips, briefly. "The Weyr's changin'," she drawls quietly, nodding, the convict rider making it more specific. "A lot of folks 'round here don' like it. Change is gonna happen regardless, I agree. Are ya helpin' it along, this change?" Her voice keeps neutral, nonchalant - as if the topic itself wasn't anything she was committed to despite the sort of questions pitted to him. K'del lets out a long, low breath. "She broke my heart," he says. "Not sure if I trust people much, now. Not as much as I used to. Everyone's got their own agenda, and sometimes it's hard to know what it is. Feel like I'm always expecting to be screwed over, now." And yet here he is, baring his soul to someone he hasn't talked to in turns. Oh, K'del. "Reckon I'm doing my best to guide the change," he says, then, changing course slightly. "Can't not do that. This Weyr-- I care about her too much to let go entirely. That so terribly bad?" Heartbreak. Yeah, Jo knows that one, too. Lips bunch together briefly at it before, "Her. Ya mean...?" Iolene. Perhaps she was aware of the relationship between Weyrleader and the late Weyrwoman. Shaking her head as her gaze lets off of him, "Had one fuck me over, too," she confesses, her tone darkening. "Such things make ya see the whole world differently. Like as if, they all are out to get ya now, even if they ain'. But ya don' care about that. Ya shouldn' trust everyone," she directs this to K'del blithely. "Everyone has an agenda. Don' really matter what that agenda is. Expect to be screwed over, too. That way, ya prepare for it. That way, ya got a good sucker punch ready when it happens." Advice from a convict rider. Probably skewed, too! "Even you have an agenda, doncha?" she levels now, that lingering smirk returning. "Guidin' the change. Change is already here, darlin'. Ain' nothin' wrong with protectin' what ya love. Just a matter of...makin' sure how ya protect her, don' end up damagin' her in the process, too." K'del doesn't confirm or deny whether it was Iolene who broke his heart, but smiles wryly for Jo's recitation. "Right," he agrees. "Even I do. Course I do. Even people who claim not to care about any of it have an agenda-- wanting to be left alone is still an agenda." His exhales, letting all the air out of his lungs before sucking in a new breath. "You telling me I'm doing the wrong then?" he asks, then, mildly. Jo laughs, though it's a short-lived one. "I don' care about any of it," she confirms on herself with that cavalier smile of hers. "but I suppose yer right. In the same vein, I've got agendas, too. Even when wantin' to be left alone. Yer agenda though." It breaks off, and doesn't really trail off like it should. It's almost jarring, and perhaps, meant to be. K'del's question almost seem expected, as the bluerider lifts a hand to run fingers through damp hair, clearing strands sticking to her face as she watches their dragons for moment. Then, "Dunno what yer doin' wrong, K'del," she decides to say, tone still neutral. "Girl like me, though, hears things. Gets around, even when she isn' even here. Curious things reach this girl's ears." Dark eyes slide towards him beside her now, "Ya know...I never noticed yer hair before," she suddenly says, seeming totally unrelated as her gaze goes to his hair. "Yer curls. The color. It's strikin'." Even though, it's hidden by a hood, but still. Odd that she brings it up now. K'del hesitates, his expression turning more and more confused - and then more and more shut off and distant - as Jo continues. His mouth opens, and then it closes, and then, finally, it opens again. "What're you getting at, Jo? Because it's pretty obvious, right now, that you've got an agenda in mind." When K'del hesitates, Jo pauses. Always reassessing responses, demeanors, her position on top of the fence remaining easy despite the topic. Then, "It's silly, really," she says, always a disarming smile of some sort lingering in place, "I've been visiting various bars around...ya know," she explains with a casual air. "Like I said, I get around. Anyway. This one bar in particular...the barmaid there just kept gushin' to me about some tall rider with curls" and a hand lifts a swirls about, as if the story was really of no consequence and was just that: a story. "Sweet...though, must've not been that sweet if he was bangin' her in a storage closet and tellin' her to call him Weyrleader." Pause. "Of course, she didn' bother to mention the last until I took her into that same storage closet, too, with her offerin' to do the same. But just now, yer hair came into my mind," and she shrugs to that, it seeming not to make any sense to her. "Is that an agenda?" and she looks over at him pointedly. "Just recollection. I mean, what are the odds, right? Like I said. It's silly. Would rather talk about yer agenda more than mine." It's pretty obvious from K'del's expression, even with only half of his face visible, that he's got some idea where this is going, long before Jo really gets to the point of it. He blanches, towards the end, and if she notices his hands, she might see that they're balling up into fists. Evidently, he's not receiving this as 'just a story'. "Just recollection, huh," he says, putting words to his presumed thoughts. "Hope she was a good lay." He slides down off the fence, his boots sinking deep into the cold, thick mud. "Personally, I'm well past the days when I was interested in storerooms and roleplaying." He takes a couple of steps forward, evidently intending to lot himself out via the nearby gate. "Curls or no curls." Jo does take in that blanching of face - those fists balling up. With her being pretty observant, she's not missing much. When K'del slides down from the fence, she's watching him intently. She follows suit, though more slowly, saying nothing to his words on the recollections or the barmaid, or even his days past. In her silence she approaches the bronzerider in all rainy leather, her booted steps slow as she walks right up to him when he's prepared to leave. Long fingers will lift to finger the side edge of that hood, the convict rider now close enough to take in his eyes and the set of his mouth as she drawls out low, "My, my. Ya have changed, haven' ya?" There's slight humor to that, but mostly intrigue. Fingers slipping down that hood's edge and then off, "I think I like that. Ya can use a little distrust in yer eyes. Think I'd like to know this K'del alittle better." Dark smile pierces through, and then, she steps back and tosses her head back, letting the rain falling on her face as she states more evenly, "Protect her well, bronzerider, and don' be a stranger. My ledge is always open to friends. Even old ones." Close up, she'll see that he's trying to bite back anger - and maybe that he's offended, too, though that's so easily mistaken for other emotions. He meets her gaze squarely, though, chin lifting as he regards her. "I'm not seventeen anymore," he says. "Nor twenty. I am not weak." Even if she never said he was. He doesn't answer the rest of her words, but instead turns away, opening the gate and heading through it so that he can head out towards the bowl, and the Weyr beyond. Cadejoth can the rest of his eating alone: K'del's finished. Perhaps a good girl would be more openly sympathetic, but Jo? Sympathy would have to bleed through her baser, arrogant emotions and it only comes out too faintly, at the last moment. To the anger seen, she almost looks pleased - like that was her intention all along. Her smirk faint on narrowed eyes to his odd words, "Ya certainly not," is all she manages to say to all of it, and when he turns to leave the convict rider tucks hands back into pockets to watch him stalk off. "I'll be seein' ya real soon, old friend." Whether he hears it or not. She remains with their dragons, watching his back intently as he heads toward the bowl. |
Comments
Brieli (Brieli (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 13 Feb 2013 01:26:04 GMT.
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I love how all up in this both Jo and Vienne are. It's awesome.
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 13 Feb 2013 09:55:55 GMT.
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Ha! Jo~ She's good at what she does. Even if what she does atm is piss off a bronzerider ;) But also, get info.
Poor K'del! HE'S THE SUSP FOR EVERYTHING. >:D
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