Logs:Resignation Whiskey
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| RL Date: 11 July, 2016 |
| Who: Lys, T'gar |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After Lys' talk with Edyis, she broods on her favorite brooding bench. T'gar happens along and gets an earful. |
| Where: Far End of Lake, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 3, Month 4, Turn 41 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: H'vier/Mentions, Irianke/Mentions, Jocelyn/Mentions, V'ret/Mentions |
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| Late afternoon hasn't brought any lessening of the spring flurries that melt as they hit the ground, but that flurry and the relative chill that comes with it hasn't deterred Lys from settling on one of the benches best suited to brooding at the far end of the lake. She has her oversized flight jacket to protect her from the worst, and a red crocheted cap pulled down over her ears to protect her from the worst of the early spring bite. With Evyth nowhere in sight, Lys seems quite alone here, unless one counts the companionship of a bottle of cheap whiskey getting treated to a brush of her lips every now and again. (This is what brooding looks like.) Of course, a good place to brood is also a good place to jog. In this weather, T'gar is out and about with just a thin layer of clothing as he makes to where Lys is. He seems about to pass her by with no acknowledgement, but then - "Still early to drink," is his off-handed greeting as his jogging takes him backwards. "Sometimes, drinking early gets to be the highlight of the day." Lys replies with sardonic undertones to the bronzerider. "You're making me tired," she observes of the jogging, even if she's known to enjoy jogging herself. Women may be whimsical about these sorts of things when the mood strikes. "Drinking is better than jogging," today, "want to join me?" It's a little quieter that she adds, "I could use a friend." "That could be the point," says Rat, slowing down to a stop on his jogging. "I think I prefer to just watch you drink," he answers her now, shaking his head in declining the offer. Moving over to lean against something, he watches her as Lys speaks before nodding once and reaches over his shoulder to pull free the waterskin he has. "What's going on, Lys?" he asks her now with a slight frown. "Must be something bad if you're needing me." There's a slight smile at the jest. "More for me then," Lys sighs a little though, so that's not as cheerful as it is made to sound. She does smile a little at his jest though. "Awful," she confirms with a hint of levity before sobering (though that has nothing to do with the booze in hand, which she drinks). "I'm breaking up with Jocelyn." She pauses to let that sink in a little, then, "Maybe V'ret too. I might be packing up to go live in the wild with Evyth forever, though that might be a bit extreme." She peers at her bottle in a way that suggests she's made quite a lot of progress on it all by herself, perhaps unsure if that's the whiskey talking for her or not. "Why?" T'gar seems to be encompassing all with that one-worded question as he continues to watch her with her drink. "Why?" Lys repeats the question as if it doesn't make sense and peers at the bottle again and then sets it aside. She takes a breath, looking at the bronzerider. "I'm not what either of them wants me to be, who either of them thinks I am. It's like sides of a coin. Both of them want more than what I can give. Both of them are unhappy with not having it all, even though they wouldn't like it all if they had it all. They like what they imagine and I like to pretend that I'm that, for a while. But that's all it is, pretending." She shrugs her shoulders. "I love them. I want them to be happy, but I'm not the person who can make them happy." It sounds so simple, sitting here, after all that booze. Slow to crouch down at something Lys admits, T'gar remains silent as he drinks from his waterskin and listens. Then, "Mmn," he grunts out, passing an assessing look over the greenrider. "I suppose," he says, "the next question would be to ask who are you, then, Lys? If you're not who they think you are? Are you the love'em and leave'em type?" Lys's lips curl in sudden (drunken) amusement, "Wouldn't you like to know," is said with a tease and a waggle of her brows as she shifts to lean forward. "Maybe you'll find out someday. After all, we're friends, and you're not looking for me to be a specific someone, fit a specific mold." And all that might be a rambling way to say, "I don't really know. I didn't think I was a love'em at all type, before. I'm not a family type. A settle down type. The things that make me happiest in life are my dragon and my wing and my job. And maybe whiskey," though she shoots a suspicious look at that bottle as if it's betrayed her somehow, but she hasn't yet puzzled out just how. "I like them in my life, but it's selfish to keep them because I like them as pockets. As time outs from who I am. I like them in compartments and they don't want compartments. They want weyrmating. They want commitment," such a dirty word the way she says it. "That's because I can't expect to fit someone else into some mold when I can't fit into one myself," T'gar lets her own with a shrug. "I know who I am." Which, segues into what she answers on knowing herself, and the bronzerider takes another drink from his waterskin before passing it over towards her as an offering. "It's okay if that sort of thing isn't for you," he tells her casually. "Nothing's wrong with that. Are you afraid to tell them that? Might end up being a better outcome than just dumping them outright, woman." "I knew I liked you for some reason," Lys tells him offhandedly in the tone of one who might as easily say (drunkenly), 'I love you, man.' She'll even take the water and sip from it with a smile and lift of the skin to indicate her thanks before handing it back. "Not afraid. Resigned. This is resignation whiskey," she indicates the bottle. "I've never broken up with anyone before. But doesn't it follow if they want things from me I can never give them that it would be better to leave them now instead of later when it'll just hurt everyone more?" She looks to him, so it's not a rhetorical question for all that it's delivered like it could be. With the waterskin back in his hands, there's laughter from T'gar at the offhanded comment before else said has him answering, "So, what? You're going to take up just fucking anyone that breathes, like some people I know? Love'em and leave'em fulltime? Get off on watching them being miserable with you in their lives?" Lys makes a face at the idea, so the, "No," shouldn't come as much of a surprise. "Probably just... fuck someone that breathes when I feel like I want to fuck? I don't know. Maybe look for someone who doesn't want more in the long term. I mean... V'ret was my first, and Jocelyn was my first, so it's not like I have to figure out everything about settling down, if I want to even settle down yet, right? I mean, I'm only twenty-two. And H'vier was like... forty and he hadn't figured his shit out," because H'vier was such a great role-model. "I mean, look at Irianke. She's not committed and she's not miserable." Also a great yardstick - 'not miserable.' "Does everyone want to get weyrmated in the end?" She asks the bronzerider plaintively. Chuckling again, "You can do whatever you want, Lys," T'gar tells her, a touch wry in his Bitran lilt. "I'm not suggesting you settle down. Just to know who you are and what you want. And...H'vier isn't exactly a shiny example, by the way." Yeah, he knows him, but he doesn't comment on the Weyrwoman. "As for everyone wanting to weyrmate," he goes on to answer, "neither of us can answer that. Me, myself, it's not something I'm aiming for. But," one finger lifts before shrugging, "right girl that sweeps me off my feet? I wouldn't turn away from the option, so long as she understands and accepts how much of a fur hogger I am." "Then maybe I just haven't met the right girl yet. Or guy." Lys replies, rising to her feet and moving toward T'gar. She presses her hands onto her knees to lean forward so she's only a little taller than he is in his crouch, "And maybe that's the only point that really matters when it comes to resignation whiskey." She makes a funny face 'amirite?' face to go with that brilliant conclusion. "Give me a hug?" She requests, "I promise to pretend later that you were just showing me a self-defense move to protect your reputation." "Or, maybe you're just not ready for that right 'girl' yet," Rat adds to that easily. "Or 'guy'." Beat. "Resignation whiskey. Shit." Low laughter comes next to that funny face. The request for a hug has the bronzerider studying Lys for just a moment before he gets to his feet and, muscles briefly flexing in his arms, opens them out for her to step into. "Don't got to pretend, friend. Someone will just think I'm hitting on you regardless." He grins. "I thought you didn't want it that way," Lys returns as she steps into those arms, her own wrapping around his back to take full advantage of a really solid (and apparently much needed) hug. "I was willing to go the extra mile for you, Rat, but if you don't want me to go dissuading anyone--" she trails off, tone playful, giving a little squeeze before she's done with the hug and stepping back to give him a small, genuine smile. "Thanks," is just as embarrassingly sincere before she's turning back to collect her bottle. "Now go make someone else tired," she encourages him along on his run, fully intending to take her resignation whiskey back to her weyr where she can drink herself into oblivion. "Who am I to deny giving a woman some of my sweat when she asks?" Surely Rat sees it that way, right? Grinning, he returns the embrace before she steps away and he's tying the waterskin back over one shoulder. To her thanks, he inclines his head in return and starts to jog in place. "Take care of yourself, Lys," he says back to her quip as she heads out - his words sounding genuine as he watches her leave. |
Comments
Silva (21:25, 11 July 2016 (PDT)) said...
I can't figure out who I feel WORSE for.
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