Logs:Other Ways
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| RL Date: 4 October, 2014 |
| Who: Jadzia, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: R'hin feels out Jadzia. He also gets her felt up. |
| Where: Lighthouse Deck and Some Bar, High Reaches Hold |
| When: Day 25, Month 12, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: G'laer/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions |
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| Lighthouse Deck, High Reaches Hold This is the beautiful Lighthouse Deck. It is located on the westernmost point of the Hold. From here, the sea can be seen as far as the eye can see in every direction. Boats are milling around far below, working their way around the rocks and crags which litter the bay path. This seems like a very good place to sit and relax with your friends. The air here is calm and refreshing, and smells lightly of saltwater. You can feel cool drafts from the water below. The deep greeny-blue coloured water below you sparkles warmly under the sun's glare. High Reaches Hold is not exactly a warm getaway, but it is away from the Weyr, which is perhaps why Leiventh reached out to Savroveth earlier to share the view. The bronze is settled -- one might say perched precariously -- on one of the rocks partway up the cliffs, affording him a great view of the docks. R'hin, instead, has gone for comfort, picking one of the tables with a similar view of the docks. While not exceptionally warm, the late afternoon sun is still bright as it starts its descent, bathing the area in light. Practicing visuals in preparation for the great leap into betweening means Savroveth is kind of eager to hold onto that view even if he won't follow it the way he might be able to later in the month. He does appear, though, with his rider in her colder weather leathers. Once Jadzia is dropped off somewhere more appropriate than a cliff, the young brown is back in the sky to do whatever awesome things he does to entertain himself. And soon enough Jadzia is on the deck to gaze out over the view herself. While the older bronze greets the brown, it's with a gust of cold wind, and brief -- not seeking to interrupt Savroveth's self-entertainment. R'hin isn't quite so stand-offish; he's splashing dark liquid into a couple of glasses, nudging one towards the side of the table with the spare chair. It's much, much finer quality than what they consumed in their original meeting. "Did you notice on the way in they're building more ships?" the bronzerider notes, casually. "They'd stopped for a while, but all of a sudden..." a flurry of activity is going on down below in the shipyard, the frame of a ship coming into being. It's a few moments before Jadzia's looking toward R'hin, then moving to settle into the seat across from him. She eyes the glass nudged toward her side of the table, but that's the only hesitation she has before she's reaching to pick it up with her still-gloved hand. "Seems like a lousy time of turn to be building ships," is her take on the matter. "It does indeed," R'hin's agreeing with a isn't it interesting tone. When she picks up her glass, he reaches for his, tipping the glass towards her briefly in silent toast before he takes a gulp, letting the liquid go down with a silent, savoring expression. "Not long until you two can go wherever you want. Southern? Ista?" his head tips, and it's by no coincidence that he names places that she speculated being taken to after the hatching. Jadzia tilts her glass toward him in turn before she takes a healthy drink. Then she's looking at the remaining alcohol while she considers how to answer that question. "Are you asking if I plan on leaving High Reaches as soon as I can?" she asks more bluntly as she looks across the table at the older man, perhaps just to make sure there's no miscommunication going on here. "No," R'hin says, with evident surprise, as if that thought had never occurred to him. "There's no need to leave, not when you can go and come back whenever you like -- your duties aside." But still, there's something expectant in the way his pale eyes linger on her. His surprise doesn't seem to surprise her. "Of course I plan on traveling once we can." How is this even a question? Jadzia finishes off the rest of her glass, then sets it back down on the table. "I have considered the merits of a different Weyr, though. I know I'm stuck here for awhile, but a fresher start sounds nice sometimes." Never mind that she hasn't even graduated weyrlinghood yet. "So impatient to go somewhere else? Surely Quinlys has not been that onerous," R'hin's tone is lightly amused, gulping down the contents of his own glass to keep apace with her, before stretching for the bottle to refill first hers, then his own glass. "You don't consider that having a dragon is a fresh start in itself?" A beat, as he leans back. "What do you want to do with this fresh start of yours?" "Quinlys is..." Jadzia pauses, not quite sure how to describe her feelings about the Weyrlingmaster. And then she gives up, watching while the bronzerider pours them another set of drinks. "I do," she allows, looking at the glass and then lifting her gaze back to R'hin without picking it up just yet. "I don't know. It just seems like it would be nice to go somewhere where I don't know anyone." Or at least where she doesn't know certain people in particular. With a lift of brows, R'hin asks blandly, "Who are you trying to run from?" That particular way of asking that particular question makes Jadzia's brows furrow at the bronzerider. Apparently thinking of herself as running from anyone isn't very appealing. "No one," she lies, reaching for that drink now. "No one leaves a Weyr for no one. And yet," R'hin shakes his head, momentarily, staring down at his drink, "It surprises me. I didn't think you were the sort to run. Hide in a barn, maybe, but not run. The past... always eventually catches up, is the problem. Sometimes," he takes a sip of liquid, "It's better to get that out of the way. One way or the other." "I like running." Jadzia says that somewhat sarcastically. She does enjoy running, but only in the most literal sense of the word. "I thought I got away from my past once. But then he showed up again," not that he was ever really gone, "and it's complicated. But he brought me here to find Savroveth, so I guess I shouldn't hate him too much." She nurses her drink a little more slowly now. From nowhere, R'hin produces a sixteenth mark piece. "So," he says, while he makes the coin dance over his knuckles, "You're going to let this man control what you do, where you go for the rest of your life? Or," with a sweeping gesture he flings the coin off the edge, pale gaze watching it sail downwards in an arc, "Are you going to start making your own choices? You'll be a senior weyrling soon. Then a rider. There are limitations, but you can choose the box you end up in, not have it decided for you." "Coming to the Weyr was my choice," Jadzia tells him with just a hint of defensiveness. Her eyes follow the mark as it goes over the edge, then flicker back to the man who tossed it. "All of my choices are my own." Except for some of the ones enforced on her by grace of being impressed to a dragon. "You know you're kind of a dick sometimes, right?" Except for the sharing of alcohol. Jadzia is cool with that. "Was it?" R'hin asks, surprise now obviously faked, given his musing, "Hm. Then I guess you don't owe him a reprieve for finding Savroveth, since it was your decision." With a low throated chuckle, the Savannah Wingleader seems to concede the accusation easily enough, "Mmmhmm. But, you know where you stand, no?" he says, spreading his hands wide. "I don't. That doesn't mean I can't be thankful he didn't tell me to fuck off when I demanded that he Search me and bring me here." Because even if it was her decision, she still needed that much help to make it official. Jadzia adds, after another drink, "You know, you don't have to get me drunk to sleep with me. You could just ask me." It's said about as blandly as she might say anything else, like commenting on the ships. "That's why you're thankful?" R'hin's shaking his head. "Some people believe that a dragon is meant for only one person. That Savroveth would've found you, regardless of what happened." Whether he believes that or not isn't elaborated on, especially since his pale gaze is fixed on the weyrling at her latter statement. He chuckles under his breath. "I could, if that's what I wanted from you." He drains the remainder of his glass, stoppers up the bottle, tucking it under an arm as he rises. "Coming?" he asks, as he looks down at her expectantly. "That's bullshit," is Jadzia's take on the 'dragon soul mate theory.' She watches him as he rises, though, not looking upset (or relieved) that he says he's not interested. It's a few moments later, once she's drained the rest of her glass, that she rises to follow wherever he's planning on going. And of course she has to ask, "What do you want from me?" R'hin keeps pace with her, as they head down the stairs leading to the cove. The light has started to fade into dusk, and the workers in the shipyard and migrated to their local hangout at the docks; this seems to be where the bronzerider is leading them. As they walk, he answers, "For you to make decisions. To be your own person. To fulfill your potential. Perhaps," with a flicker of a smile, as if teasing, "One day fly with Savannah." Jadzia walks along, quiet when she's not talking. Maybe Savroveth is in her head right now, but she could just be paying attention to the bronzerider, even if she's not watching him most of the time. "That's a very fatherly answer," she points out with maybe just a hint of obvious suspicion. "Your Savannah?" Because there are so many. With a shrug of his shoulders, R'hin answers with a hint of laughter, "I made all my mistakes on the twins." The latter comment has him glancing at her with a sudden bemusement, but then they're walking into the bar. It's not nearly so sophisticated as the lighthouse deck: it's a dirty, dark bar, and already there's crowds forming around a table for a game of dice. The weyrling has a snorted response for that. Because of course some bronzerider would say he's already made his mistakes, thus implying there are no more to make. When they walk into the bar, Jadzia does a precursory scan before she's glancing at R'hin. Why are they here when they were just drinking where they were? With a grin, R'hin leads them towards the game of dice, or more accurately, towards the group that's sitting at a table nearby, jeering and commenting on the game-at-hand. His, "Mind if we join you?" earns uncertain looks for a moment, given their riding leathers -- but after the bronzerider sets the bottle down on the table, the reception is slightly warmer, the woodworker on Jadzia's left giving her an approving once-over. "So, Zia here is a big fan of ships," R'hin says, to which the woodworker brightens. "Oh, yeah?" Jadzia follows R'hin to the table without question. Without voiced question, anyway. Her neutrality toward the bronzerider breaks into an easy smile for the rest of them and something a little more for the woodworker giving her a look-over. "Oh, yeah. I love them. I don't get to spend a lot of time with them, though." She tugs at her collar as though to indicate the burden of being a rider and having little personal need for ships herself. R'hin's quick to make use of the bottle, pouring generous splashes out for their table companions. The woodworker's grinning at Jadzia like he knows what that smile from the brownrider means. "I'd love to show you around... once my nuts thaw." There's guffawing around the table from those paying attention; others are back to watching the dice game and drinking. "You weyrfolk are shaffin' crazy," but that doesn't mean the woodworker's not going to lean closer to Jadzia and stretch a hand towards her leg under the table. The guffawing doesn't dissuade Jadzia in the least from countering boldly with, "I could help you with that. I bet I'm just the sort of crazy you like." It sounds a little bit like a challenge. Like maybe he's not man enough to deal with a woman like her. There's no attempt to keep his hand away from her leg, though. If anything, the weyrling helps by shifting closer to him. Now all eyes at the table are on Jadzia, rather than the dice game. R'hin's amongst them, the bronzerider's expression neutral. The woodworker barely knows what to do with such a bold woman -- he's probably used to chasing and persuading, though he recovers quickly enough, boldened by her encouragement. "Oh yeah? Just how crazy?" Jadzia tsks just audibly at the man and starts to shift out of his reach as she glances around the table for someone more ready to jump at the opportunity. "Is anyone else willing to give me the pleasure of a tour?" Judging by the way she says it, she'll make sure to reciprocate the pleasurable part of this equation to whoever helps her out. There's a slight pause, where several of the men exchange looks. In that pause, just as one seems ready to volunteer himself, R'hin stands abruptly, knocking the bottle on the table over. A couple of people scramble to right the bottle (it is good liquor), and the rest hastily push back from the table to avoid the splash. "We should get going, Zia," the bronzerider says in an undertone, and there's an odd flatness in his voice as he does so, pale eyes hard. "Already?" she asks, sounding convincingly disappointed. Like she'd rather stay here with her new friends. But that won't keep her from following the bronzerider on some basis that he is her superior. If Jadzia notices the tone of his voice or anything about his eyes, she doesn't let on. While there's a protest or two from the table, the occupants are suitably distracted to allow the pair of riders to leave relatively easily. Once outside, R'hin's stride lengthens, taking the path down towards the cove, wordless. If Jadzia can't naturally keep up with the taller bronzerider without jogging and rushing, she'll just have to fall behind him. But she follows all the same, without even complaining that she could go back to the bar if he's done with her now. Eventually, R'hin slows, as he reaches the rocky beach. Down by the water, there's a couple of people weaving something, then bending to place it into the ocean, shading their eyes to watch it float. The line of bronzerider's jaw is still tight as he says: "Most people are happy to talk, if you're friendly. You don't have to be that friendly." "Maybe I like being that friendly," she doesn't exactly snap back. But it's not just an idle comment. "It gets me what I want." From people willing to give her things, anyway. "Are you mad because it might not get what you want?" Mad might be a strong word, but it's what Jadzia uses regardless. "There are other ways," R'hin replies with a sharp, sidelong look, pale eyes hard. Quieter, murmured, "I'll teach you other ways. If you want." As for not getting what he wants, that earns a brief flicker of a smile. "No." No, he got what he wanted, or no, he's not mad? She doesn't say whether she wants or not because she's still annoyed that he sounds... however he sounds. Jadzia doesn't say anything, actually. Her arms are crossed over her chest now and she glances back in the general direction of the bar. Maybe she's thinking about going back. Finally, "What other ways?" The pair by the water are walking away now, and R'hin goes back to watching them rather than Jadzia. When he speaks, his voice is even, "By being someone else. Someone they're more likely to trust, or like, or even just identify with. Most people... normal people at their core want to be liked." With a shift of his shoulders, he says, "Maybe Jadzia would throw herself at a stranger. Maybe Zia would say that her father was a woodworker, and that he taught her a few things, and talk shop for a bit. You achieve the same ends, but you... give up a lot less of you. The Jadzia you." He's looking at her again, now, as if to try and determine whether what he's saying is making sense. Of course it makes sense. In that Jadzia understands the meaning of the words that he's saying. But it also seems to make the brownrider slightly uncomfortable. Her jaw tightens, gaze forward, looking out over the cove while she absorbs. "You want me to not be me," is what she takes from it. "What do I do with me, then? And why-- If you don't like me, what's the point of teaching me anything at all?" Instead of answering directly, R'hin's silent a moment. Then, quietly: "There was this guy I knew, once. He was hold-bred, like you. He felt that his decisions made little weight in the world, and that feeling made him restless. He learned to lie, very well, about many things. Once -- several times in fact -- he lied about an important thing, but the once was when he got caught. His parents asked him why he did it, and he couldn't explain. He wanted to tell them the truth, but the truth was he didn't know why he did it anymore, and he felt like he'd gone too far to back out, because what he did mattered, even if it was at a cost of himself." A beat, and then: "I liked the guy, when I knew him before. I like Jadzia, too." "Are you the guy?" Jadzia can't keep herself from asking, turning her head to eye the bronzerider sidelong before looking away again. It's not until she does, not giving a lot of time for a response, before she adds, "You might be the first." To like Jadzia. While he doesn't answer verbally, the brief, sidelong look R'hin gives Jadzia might be answer in and of itself. After a beat, "There's a first for everything," and the old saying makes him, unaccountably, smile. "Do you want to go back in there?" The bar, presumably. "Specifically?" She asks the question, then answers it with a shrug. "It doesn't really matter to me. But I probably shouldn't get so drunk at a bar away from home that it's hard to get home." So that's probably the answer, more or less. No. Not the way she'd intended, anyway. Jadzia looks at the bronzerider again, studying. "Maybe you aren't as big of a dick as you act, I guess." There's a nod for her specifically, as if to encourage her to continue. R'hin seems satisfied enough with her answer. "Well," with a laugh, "That's something." Tugging a hand through his hair, he says, "Once you can between, we'll take you to all the best bars with us." Us, presumably being Savannah. He glances upwards, moments before Leiventh's bulk passes overhead. "We'll fly back with you. Leiventh says he could use the exercise." Which is probably not what the taciturn bronze said, but he's not contradicting his rider aloud, at any rate. "It will be soon," she assures him about betweening. Especially if there are the best bars to look forward to, regardless of who she's going with. Jadzia glances up, too. "You don't have to. But the company would be nice." Not that Savroveth isn't good company. He's definitely not silent company. Leiventh is sure to discover this soon enough. With a nod for her noting he doesn't have to, R'hin strides for Leiventh, not bothering to pull on his helmet. The older dragon seems content to let the younger take the lead, matching his speed wingtip-for-wingtip. For his part, Leiventh doesn't mind chatty company. It means there's no expectation that he talk, and he does indeed seem to be listening, occasionally interjecting a question or two on some obscure topic that might spark his interest. He only breaks free once they crest the seven spires, a salute from his rider given to the brown's, before he angles towards his ledge. |
Comments
Edyis (20:01, 5 October 2014 (EDT)) said...
<3 One of my favorite things to watch is the way "possibilities" form.
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