Logs:Rainy Days
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| RL Date: 27 March, 2015 |
| Who: Farideh, H'vier |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Farideh and H'vier have different ideas of how rainy days should be spent. |
| Where: Outside The Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 5, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Rainy. Cold. |
| Mentions: Irianke/Mentions, Drex/Mentions |
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| Rain is drizzling outside the Weyr, falling from fat, gray clouds that sit low in the sky above. People bustle around the entrance to the Reaches, though its notably less, since there's inclement weather. It's just outside the overhang that Farideh plays - if you can call it that. She's dressed in her heavy overcoat and boots, over her trousers with the worn knees, and jumps from puddle to puddle, delighting in the simple joy of splashing water about. Her activity gains a few side eyes from those that pass by, but most ignore the older teen as she continues on with her shenanigans, hopping into one shallow puddle on one foot, trying to keep her balance with her arms outstretched. "Yes," is a cry of success. It's the small things that people her happy, apparently. It needs to do more than drizzle a little bit to keep H'vier from running off his pent up energy. The bronzerider is wearing an oilskin coat, the hood pulled up over his head, and he's probably been running through the bowl because it's only now that he's making his way through the tunneled entrance to the path outside of the Weyr. He probably doesn't think anything of the girl splashing in the puddles until he hears her voice. It makes him falter into a wal instead of just running past, because, "Farideh?" He doesn't sound like he thinks it should be her. Bright eyes lift to the bronzerider, her cheeks rosy from the time spent in the cold and windy air. "H'vier," Farideh greets in return, her mouth stretching into a fetching smile; perhaps one of the only times she's smiled so welcomingly to him. "Are you--" She glances down the plateau, then back to the shadowy entrance, before her eyes come to rest on the tall man. "Going for a walk? In this weather? It's raining." In case he didn't notice. Whatever questions H'vier has about why this particular young woman is out here jumping in puddles like a child are kept to himself, even if he's still looking at her like he doesn't understand for a few moments more. "I was going for a run," he corrects, not breathing hard, but breathing more deeply. That it's raining must be irrelevant because he doesn't comment on the weather. "What are you doing?" Farideh listens with a air of consideration, but shrugs in the end and steps around a particularly slushy looking puddle. "Trying to enjoy the weather. All of that snow was bad enough, but now it just keeps raining and raining and--" She rolls her eyes towards the clouds above their heads. "It's nice to get out sometimes. Being cooped up inside makes me feel frustrated for no reason," and a frustrated Farideh is a no good Farideh, that seems to mean. "Do you run? In the rain? Often? Or at all?" H'vier nods along with her explanation, acknowledgement more than understanding everything. Being cooped up, at least, is something he can relate to, if not to quite the same extent as the girl. "Winter seems to make people a bit stir crazy. Spring rain doesn't help very much," he agrees. "Just didn't expect to see you, of all people, jumping around in puddles." Maybe it's just an uncomfortable reminder of how young she actually is. "I run all the time. Rain, snow, whatever. It helps me... decompress." Both hands fall onto the bulky coat covering up her hips. "Why? Is there something wrong with that? Have you ever? It's very satisfying." To illustrate her point, she jumps into a nearby one with both feet flat, looking intolerably smug, as mud splatters all around her boots. "Running," with an unimpressed face, "decompress? Are you stressed out, H'vier? Whatever for?" Except Farideh's mouth is already quirking into a smile, amusement showing in her eyes, that she lifts to the bronzerider. "Not since I was younger than you," he'll admit about jumping into puddles. H'vier watches as she does it again, about as impressed as she is about his running. "I've always run." For that reason, presumably. Not because he's stressed out, which he neither confirms nor denies. "It helps me not hit people." Whether H'vier means Farideh's smiling up at him is left unclear. But he doesn't look particularly violent right now. It must be the running! "How sad." Farideh doesn't look particularly sad, wiggling her boots in the puddle so the water ripples out. "Do you have a problem with hitting people? I might believe that K'zin deserved it, but," her eyebrows lift, "wasn't that enough? Or do you still have the urge to hit? I think they have mindhealers for that." She steps out of the muddy water then, and squelches a few steps away to jump into a completely different, new puddle. "I don't have a problem with hitting people. I enjoy hitting people." That might actually make it a problem. "I have difficulties controlling my temper, at times." It's just that H'vier tends to hit people when he loses his temper is all. "Have you never just gone running for the sake of running? You might like it even more than jumping into puddles. Though I suppose I did enjoy throwing you into the lake. I can do that again, if you'd like." "H'vier," is a warning, with a pointed finger and a frown. "No. No throwing." Farideh sighs and turns to face him, scrunching up her nose in distaste. "Running? Running is only fun if you're getting away from someone or something. How tedious it must be just for--" Fun? Stress relief? Decompression? She doesn't say, but folds her arms over her chest and regards him from beneath lowered brow. "Do I look like I'd run for fun?" "I could chase you," suggests the bronzerider, sounding like he already likes this idea. "And if I catch you, I throw you wherever I like. Would that be fun for you?" And does she really want to bet on being able to outrun a man who does it for fun? "I'd think running because you want to would be more fun than running because you have to." Like trying to get away from someone you don't want to catch you. The amount of skepticism on Farideh's face should suffice, but she puts in an irritated, "no" for good measure, followed by a caustic, "I don't think so." His idea of fun is not hers, and vice versa. "I'm positive that I've never enjoyed being thrown in the lake-- or the baths-- or--" She frowns, tightening her arms protectively. "Just no. Shouldn't you be in the galleries or massaging Irianke's feet?" Because that's obviously what bronzeriders do for the goldriders their dragons catch. "Oh, don't be like that, darling. I could throw you in my bed and I think we'd both enjoy that quite a lot." Whether Farideh enjoys him mentioning it or not, H'vier will at least enjoy the thought for a few moments here. "Reisoth is on the sands. I've been in the galleries. But there's only so much paperwork I can do and, for once in his sharding life, the bastard won't agree to longer sweeps." The bastard being said bronze, most likely. Certainly, H'vier anticipated the nasty smile he gets from the laundress. "Don't you think if I wanted to be in your bed, I would be? I'm quite satisfied by what I have." Farideh doesn't elaborate, and chooses instead to skiff one of the puddles with the bottom of her boot. "Did you hit on him when you asked him to Stand? He said you came onto him, and you told him I asked you?" It's lightly disgruntled, but mostly curious. "I wouldn't know. You don't seem to have very good taste in men as it stands," he points out. Then H'vier's eyes are rolling because someone even more homophobic than himself is clearly just a ridiculous person. "Fuck, no. Of course I didn't hit on him. He's a fucking sailor. If I were going to stoop so low as to hit on a man at all, it would be on a rich Lord or something." And even then, the idea is too far-fetched for H'vier to manage it without sounding just a little put off. "And I didn't say that you asked. I barely mentioned you at all." "I slept with you, didn't I?" That's an insult, even if it's accompanied by fluttering lashes and a sweet smile; bad taste. "He seemed to think that you did, and he yelled at me for asking you to ask him. As if I did it because I wanted to make him miserable or something," with a displeased lip purse. "You didn't go about it the right way." Farideh's going to go ahead and blame H'vier, of course. She frowns. "Not that it matters. I already told him to go jump in the ocean, which he can do. He can go back to that stupid boat of his and I'm going to Stand." "One of your better decisions." Of course he'd think that about himself. It'd be silly for him not to. "He didn't seem very bright," H'vier will allow of the boy he's probably not regretting to ask to stand at this point. "I'm glad he didn't accept. But you." He seems oddly delighted that she's going to Stand. "You know that weyrlings are required to run, don't you? They run all the sharding time." "Hardly." His assessment of Drex earns both a lifted eyebrow and a smirk. "I never said he was the next Masterharper of Pern, but neither are you, so--" Farideh tosses her head, trying her best to feign disinterest. "I suppose if I Impressed, I would have to, but that doesn't mean I should, now, just because." She slants him a sideways look, suddenly distrustful. "Right?" "It depends on how much you want to hate yourself for the first few sevens. It'd be easier to start now than when you have a hatchling to tend and can't get enough sleep to save your life." H'vier is making Impressing sound like the best thing ever, right? It's better than dignifying the idea of himself as a harper at all with a response. But then he's thoughtful, which can't be good, "I think that's a fantastic idea, actually. Taking the lot of you out running every morning before your chores. Maybe after your chores, too." "That's assuming I even Impress." Teenage willfulness rears its head in the dissatisfied stare she gives him. "Seriously? H'vier. That's not even fair." Farideh stomps her foot in one more puddle, making iy splash, and then turns and marches her way back into the Weyr. |
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