Logs:Revolving Door of Bronzeriders
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| RL Date: 14 April, 2009 |
| Who: Milani, N'thei |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 20, Month 6, Turn 19 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Satiet/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions, A'son/Mentions, K'del/Mentions |
| Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr Partly sheltered by the curving stone overhang, partly exposed to the weather, the wide stone patio serves as a balcony for socializing or just plain drinking on a sizable scale. The repurposed ledge might once have let two large dragons land, but now there's too much furniture for that: two rustic tables with attendant chairs, plus a couple more in particularly good weather, and a wrought iron bench situated to make the most of the view of the western bowl and the lake beyond. Other changes include rough little niches carved out of the stone walls to hold glows in colored bottles at night, the climbing plant that's being trained to grow up along the overhang, and the blue ceramic pots of flowers that dot the edge of the ledge as a colorful reminder not to fall off. An archway leads to the Snowasis itself, housed in the ledge's former weyr, while a few wide steps descend along the wall to the bowl. Fine summer morning, and there's N'thei, finding some little way to enjoy it. Slouched down in one of the chairs on the patio, a mug that looks like something warm held between his two hands, his elbows on the arm of the chair, he's mostly watching a pair of pretty girls repotting the ledge plants. They're pretending they don't notice he's watching, and he's not pretending he's not watching-- so it works. Bright-eyed and chipper for them, chattering away self-consciously; probably not yet seen his rest yet for him, but not so much worse for the wear, really. Dressed for the warm summer day, Milani is pulling off the long-sleeved shirt she wears over a tank-type undershirt and fanning her face as she comes out of the Snowasis carrying an ice-laden drink in one hand. Under her arm, that ubiquitous clipboard of hers. And hey, look at that, longshanks himself sitting there watching the girls and their sacks of potting soil, the shift of trowels through dark earth as growing plants are put into larger containers. It's been something of a crappy seven since Iovniath's flight but right now, Milani's not showing it. The slight smudge of dark circles beneath her eyes will have to the talking instead because as she moves over towards the bronzerider, she has a typically chipper smile on her face. "Hey there. Having fun with the scenery?" is asked jauntily as she approaches N'thei. "Mn." Verbose. Long pause. "Shame the scenery's not having fun with me," N'thei adds, clearly loathe to break his spell of long, eye-candy silence, even more loathe to lift his eyes from the girlies to the Headwoman-- who falls very much outside the scope of girly, even in a tank-top. The chair that he kicks out with one foot must be meant as invitation, 'cause god forbid he actually ask her to sit down right there out loud. "Aren't they a little young for you?" Milani quips back and waits until the chair has settled from kicking before taking it and rearranging it just a little. Her shirt is folded over the back of the chair, clipboard set down beside it and charateristically, her shoes kicked off as she folds herself into the seat, careful of her glass. "You wouldn't expect it to be hot in Stores given how the caverns are, but it's hot in a couple of the back caverns today." More face fanning. "How're you doing with settling in?" she just has to ask, doesn't she? N'thei answers flatly, "Depends on what I plan on doing with them, doesn't it." So... the answer's probably yes; yes, they are. The amount he cares about how hot it is in the stores is so little that he can't be assed to acknowledge he even heard that remark, only to hook his foot around the leg of Milani's chair and drag it back over so it sits more properly angled in front of the table. "Don't ask stupid questions, Millie. Whose work should you be doing instead of making small-talk?" "I won't ask," Milani says with a little chuckle and tilts her glass up to take a sip just as N'thei hooks his foot around the chair and re-arranges it. A little choky sound follows as that mouthful of what looks like iced tea goes down the wrong way and Millie comes up spluttering. Glass-to-table. At least it's within better reach with him having yanked her around so. "I have papers and hides to sign, but you know, being my own boss, I gave myself a five minute break to get a drink and oh hey, thought I'd come talk to you since you were here and all by your lonesome except for the admittedly pretty scenery. Would it help if I'd sat in your lap instead?" Brows peak on her forehead as she asks what's another largely useless question. Would it help? "Depends on how much you enjoy being choked. Didn't look like it was your favorite thing." With a nod to the glass that was trying to drown Milani, never mind N'thei's part in that little mishap. "But I have two knees-- and two girls." Except those girls, perhaps not as content with being gawked at now that the man's got even a partial distraction, are starting to collect their gear, preparing to trot off to less oggly tasks. Milani takes a long breath, lets it out slowly and dabs at the front of her top where spluttered liquid landed. "Back to that then," she murmurs and looks off across the Bowl, hands falling still in her lap though one knee jitters a little. "Have you talked to A'son since you got back?" Not small-talk and the way Millie's avoiding actually looking him in the eye right now could possibly be telling. At her murmur, N'thei sinks a smile down into his mug and asks, "Would you actually prefer I let you on my lap?" Stop and think about how weird life would be /forever and ever/ afterward! Ah, good, something actually worth discussing: "No. Might cold-clock him when I do, for shits-and-grins. In case you want to give him a head's up. Why?" 'Cause, with a glance over to meet Milani's eyes, with a quirked brow, even Mr. Not Exactly In-Touch With His Feelings caught on to the small-talkless tone there. Milani casts N'thei a sidelong glance there and a smile starts to creep onto her face too for the way he asks that. "Can't be /that/ bad," she finally says with a try at a laugh and she reaches for her glass, tilts it up to her mouth, ponders for a moment or two further. "Because I haven't seen him, except for the odd "I'm avoiding you" pass-by in the hall, since he fucked me the night Iovniath went up and it's not like him to fuck and walk out without a word," she says bluntly. Because apparently these things can be said in this way to N'thei. Dubiously raised brows; "All that so I'd know you and A'son are fucking again? Because that was just a matter of time." And not a big shock for N'thei, though there's a twitch at the corner of his mouth for the whole not-a-word aspect of Milani's story. "Maybe it wasn't quite so good as he remembered," he suggests after an appropriately thoughtful pause, coupled with an appropriately sucks-to-be-you shrug. And a drink Milani rolls her eyes expressively and shakes her head. "No, I actually wanted to know how you're doing and if you need anything, you big doofus," she tells the former Weyrleader over the rim of her glass, tone sincere. Her cheeks puff out a little and she shoots him a look. "You know, you make an art form out of saying things in the most hurtful way possible. But anyway, other than you know, feeling like shit about it, I'm worried about him. Did you hear about the bed thing?" More drink for her too. "Hurt your feelings, then?" N'thei probably shouldn't sound hopeful about that, even if it's only a little bit, just a touch of renewed brightness behind otherwise listless gray eyes. Cut him some slack; Milani's week may have been bad, but it's been months of this shit for him. As to the bed thing: "No. Don't need to. A'son's a grown man, Millie. Don't hen-peck him." "Yes," Milani says just a little shortly, purses her lips then adopts a mock-conversational tone: "Hi Millie, yeah, I'm back, oh yes, I still love you. But no, this is the end. But only for now." She takes a breath turns her glass around. "Then there were flowers and my desk flipped around, so I sent him an upside-down bed." Pause. "He threw it off his ledge. Mattress included. Then he sent me an apology for that. Then he /stabs/ himself to make sure Nikoth didn't catch. Takes me to bed, then walks out without a word before I woke up. So. My personal feelings aside, I'm worried." Deep breath and her legs draw up a little within the chair. "I haven't pecked him at all. He said we were done. So, even with everything all awkward, I respected that." More quietly after a moment of looking down into her glass: "It's bad enough trying to keep K'del and Tiriana civil and making sure stuff gets taken care of. This is just like, icing on a bad cake." N'thei's eyes glaze. Beds, flowers, stuff that's not penetrating the thickness of his malaise. Could also have to do with it being mornign and he's not hit the sack yet-- dawnsweeps suck. He has another drink at that, rolls it around behind his mouth, finally; "Don't know what you want me to say. You he's been different since he got here, before you let him put his cock in you again, so not sure what you expected would happen." K'del-and-Tiriana, that at least he can smirk at, even just a little. "Maybe they'll kill each other." Pleaseohplease. "I don't expect you to say anything," Milani replies. "I'm just letting you know that he's acting even more double-weird. You know. In case you care." Up goes her glass again and she takes a breath, then rolls her eyes at that smirk. "Only you would be happy about that prospect. Come on, how would that actually solve anything?" Oh, well, there's the source of the misunderstanding. "Could have just said 'A'son's acting more weird than usual.' Spared the wet details." N'thei couples it with a smile that falls well short of his eyes, reaching the bottom of his mug promptly afterward. "Wouldn't, but what makes you think I'm hoping to /solve/ anything. Just want to watch Tiriana tear that little boy apart." "Oh well, you know me. Why say anything in two words, when it can be six?" Rather than jaunty, Milani's voice actually has a touch of scathing to it, directed at herself. Her head tips back and she closes her eyes. "No ... I think you've made it pretty plain that you're done. But still ... the two of them tearing each other apart doesn't help the Weyr any. If they both crumble, we're all fucked." As if confidingly, N'thei leans over the arm of his chair a little and says in a lowered voice, "Fucked anyway." Taps his lip with the end of his fingers twice-- shhhh, maybe not everyone's figured it out yet. Back down in his chair, empty mug dangling from that finger now off the side; "Hard-won apathy, Millie, don't begrudge me because you're still idealistic." /Not/ a compliment. A brief flash of temper crosses Milani's face as he leans in and makes that declaration but then she just sighs, reaches over to rest her hand atop his wrist. "It's okay. You've earned it. But I -- I can't give up yet." Her chin lifts a little, sets in place. "Everything doesn't have to be fucked up." N'thei bends his wrist back-and-forth twice under Milani's fingers, just to prove it's still a living thing and not just some random appendage he's still carting around. Or because he remembered it exists at all only 'cause it's been brought to his attention. Whichever. "Hypocritical, and I know he's your boy-toy, but K'del's not exactly poised to inspire his riders. And Tiriana's too childish to help him the way she ought to. And you can't carry them both." That twitch of N'thei's wrist sees Milani's fingers lifting, gliding off and away. Maybe she thought that was a 'get off me' move. "He's not my boy toy," Milani says steadily. "And he may not be able to /now/ but if he's smart he'll work it out so that the people who /do/ inspire the riders are around to do the inspiring and are /able/ to do it, until he /is/ in a spot to be able to do it himself," Milani says stubbornly. "Tiriana I can keep covered for a while until she figures stuff out. But someone has to keep her from punching out any Lord Holders and well yeah, I can't do that. It's not my place and it's not -- well you know, if she really wants to, she's just going to do it. But if Kas can keep his head about him enough, he might be able to." Yeah. Big if there. Quiet but audible; "Awfully defensive for not-your-boy-toy." N'thei, back in control of his own wrist, laces his fingers together loosely across his belly, raises his eyebrows in a questioning accusation. Then shrugs once more. "Save the Weyr then, Millie. Will make some streamers to celebrate your triumph when you raise us up out of this mire." "I don't write people off just because they're young," Milani replies and lifts a hand to her face, rubbing at her cheek. "There's no point arguing with you about 'friend' and 'former lover' though. You think he's a boy toy, you go ahead and think that. I know I can't change your mind," the headwoman fires back with a shrug of her own. She rolls her eyes again and sighs. "It doesn't have to be a mire, is my point. But if you decide it's one before ever giving anyone a chance, well then yeah, it will be." N'thei, mild; "Tell me how you think this is going to end, Millie." Please, he's all ears. "I don't /know/, N'thei," Milani says, breath blowing out all at once and her face creases with held back worry. "All I've got is /hope/ that K'del won't ... fold. That he'll keep himself pulled together and stop letting her get his goat. Hope that she's not going to get in someone's face and screw us over with a holder. She can let things drop with the caverns as much as she wants. I've got that covered with Lujayn and the assistants. But I'd rather try to get her to pick up the slack she's supposed to." "Let me know how that hope holds out," suggests N'thei, his laugh short but no less derisive for its lack of length. Because this conversation specifically has no hope, he asks abruptly, "What is that?" Drink. "I will," Milani says with a touch of defiance to make Tiriana proud. The shift in subject makes Milani blink for a second then she holds out her glass to him. "Iced tea. With a kick." But let's not go making Tiriana proud. That can't be a /good/ thing. N'thei eyes the defiance blandly-- which is redundant, since pretty much everything about him is bland these days. "What is it, round eight o'clock? Maybe nine?" he asks, taking the drink to give the with-a-kick a sniff. Then to dump it all on the ground next to his chair, sploosh. "A kick as in ... lemonade ..." Milani says slowly, eyeing the pour-out with a quirk of her eyebrows. "Maybe I should have said 'with a twist' instead." And then she starts laughing helplessly. To cover the fact that he just dumped out perfectly good iced tea, N'thei says with vehement gruffness, "Fuck lemonade." And puts the cup resolutely on the table in front of Milani, settles to scowling darkly at her laughter. Which is like forbidden around here! "Oh N'thei ...," Milani says with helpless humor in her voice but a touch of gentleness too and she tries to push that laughter back in where it came from. She reaches out towards his arm again, this time to squeeze lightly. "Thank you, though," she murmurs more softly. Though she doesn't expressly say for what. "Happy to oblige." If you want to call it that. N'thei pats the back of Milani's hand a little, distractedly but he's doing what he can to acknowledge a little compassionate contact there. Quietly, a comment he'd make to Milani and no one else so she best keep it to herself, "It was her birthday. Three days ago." "I know ..." is what Milani says back quietly and her hand travels upward just a little, aims for his shoulder. She doesn't say anything else, just leaves her hand there for a little while and doesn't make more of it than that. N'thei nods. Of course she knows. Milani apparently has like the best mental calendar in the entire world. Or one helluva day planner. "When's Tiriana's? Autumn, seems like." Again, just briefly, N'thei covers her fingers with his, brows knitting thoughtfully. "Yours? Winter time?" Most vapid of conversations~ Of course she knows, because she had it written up on her wall and highlighted with a big puffy-petaled flower, to make sure that there was a special treat for everyone that day and sparkling wine to toast the day. And that stupid flower is still there on that calendar and Milani has to look at it every day. "End of the summer," the headwoman says softly. "I ... don't have it memorized yet." There's a flicker of surprise on her face as he asks about hers. "End of month 12. Right before turnover. Same day that Rielsath's first clutch hatched." N'thei, with a snicker, "Don't have it memorized. Keep it that way, I suggest. We all remember Satiet's, but Tiriana's?" Small pleasures, yes, but he seems to like the idea of the Weyrwoman-- choke-- coping with a continued second-fiddle position. "Too easy to rile sometimes," he adds, sounds more appreciative than condemning. "Maybe," and there Mliani does turn a little sly. "It could be a /small/ little bit of payback," she says with a laugh, gives his shoulder one more squeeze and draws her hand away. "She is ... pretty easy to rile. I used to take her too much at face value, then I kind of started to get it a little more and --" she breaks off, chews on her lip. "/She/ left me a letter reminding me of a thing or two about Tiriana and she was right." Quieter still: "Of course." She, obviously not Tiriana. Letters. N'thei shakes his head at that, not a subject he's going to visit, just going to make a face and continue talking shit about Tiriana. It's easier. "Like pulling a little girl's pigtails with Tiriana, isn't it. She'd have a good head on her shoulders if she wasn't so damn busy trying to prove it." Disappointedly. "She actually would," Milani agrees and she draws her knees up under her chin, toes curling over the edge of her seat as she looks over at the bronzerider. "Just don't pull them so much that she gets so riled that she can't prove it at all. If you put her in the way of doing good ... stack the deck just a little so she succeeds, she kind of ... blossoms and tries more without all the extra stupid," the headwoman says slowly. "Saw it a while back." When Satiet was pushing the two of them together forcibly to make sure her chosen successor an the headwoman would be able to work together. "That's for you to do, honey. Blossom her." Which N'thei finds to be a decidedly stupid term, note the way he looks at Milani a little dully there to prove it. "Plus side, at least you don't look quite so much like a baby next to those two, neh?" Serious actually, Milani just sighs, nods once, looks away. That was supposed to be /Satiet's/ job. And that dullness to him, well it's kind of wrong. That last though draws her gaze back to him and she starts to smile slowly. "Imagine that. Someone doesn't think I'm a baby anymore. So is that toddler? Or have I made it up to kid?" N'thei, shaking his head full of comical gravity; "Don't overreach yourself. Just because you're out of diapers doesn't mean you're ready for a big-girl bed." "Ohhh so I still have to go back to my crib with the bars up at night, is that it?" Milani answers with just slightly widened eyes and mock-innocence on her face. "And thank /heavens/ about those diapers. Bulky, obnoxiou things." Still grave, N'thei says, "Think that would be best. For everyone's protection. Keep you safely behind bars-- keeps the revolving door of bronzeriders out of your furs, neh?" Generally, there'd be a hurtful tone sought for poking fun at Milani's whoring; maybe he's just finally gotten through making fun of her and just find sit funny now. "Sure, here, you can mind the key," Milani says, miming reaching for her belt where her own very heavy key ring is kept, grinning for the tease. She sobers though, smile wry, just a little sad. "It'd be nice not to have a revolving door anymore, though." Her forehead drops to her knees and Millie hides her face. "If he would just ... stay ..." There's the faintest edge of quiet desperation in her voice. Quick question: "Which one?" Face still hidden: "A'son." Hah! N'thei barks a short laugh right there for that. "Embarrassed?" Because he's making it so much better. Milani looks up from her knees and no, embarrassed wouldn't be the right word. Her eyes are bright with tears that she tries to push back by shoving her nose into her forearms. "No," she answers succinctly. "I've never been ashamed of my choices. I like sex. There's nothing wrong with enjoying it. I never cheated on him though, the whole turn we were together and I would be his again in a heartbeat if he wanted me back." Deep breath and she squeezes her eyes shut, scrubs at her face and sits up, starts to swivel to find her clipboard on the ground, now half an arm's length back. "But he doesn't. So I have to try to get over it. Again. Only this time, he's /here/ instead of off at Ista. And he doesn't have the excuse of me being too young anymore and neither do I. I know what it's like to actually be with him. How good it can be. I don't know why he doesn't have the guts to step up to it. But he doesn't. So." Deep breath and she shoots a smile at N'thei that's bitter-edged, just a little. "Not about sex. About being so damn flipped over A'son. I'd be embarrassed." Regardless of the homosexual implications there, the stresses in N'thei's voice make it clear that this is about /A'son/ in particular. "Always been a nutless wonder, hasn't he. Talked out of winning for Teonath, stabbed himself to avoid winning Iovniath. Never takes anything." She could drive a knife home here about a certain dead Weyrwoman. But this is Milani and it's not in her to be that cruel. "No," Milani answers again, head shaking back and forth. "Why is it embarrassing to really, truly love a person, even if they're a nutless wonder half the time? I mean ... it's what it's all about, isn't it? Seeing the good parts and being able to get through the bad ones." She takes a breath, considers for a moment then says slowly: "It's just hard sometimes. Seeing him do this, over and over again. Sometimes I want to shake him and tell him to grow up already only he's got eleven turns on me." She could drive that knife home, yes, but only one of them is prone to explosive fits of violence! So let's not go there. "Because he's a nutless wonder?" N'thei answers blankly, like that should answer for itself, duh. "If that's what you think it's all about, honey, good for you. How's it working out? Loving a man without the balls to do a thing for himself? Making you happy?" "So a person should only ever love people who are perfectly well-adjusted and don't have any problems or flaws?" Milani asks, actually curious though there's still some traces of those tears around her eyes. "And no. I'm not. I'm not happy right now. I'm miserable and for the most part I'm shoving it away becaue I've got other things to deal with. I've got work to do and I can't --" she gestures with her clipboard, "-- can't let this shit slide, just because he can't make up his mind what he wants." N'thei's not going to answer the first, just level a bland look over at the Headwoman for her words-in-mouth there. Whatever he meant, whatever he was actually trying to convey has now drifted off into the ether somewhere. "He fucking Persie yet?" Milani piles her clipboard up on top of her knees, reaches backward for her shirt to lay across that. Might be she's looking to head back to work soon. That question earns a shrug of her shoulders. "I don't know. I've heard rumors she's spent the night. I saw Secath up there most of the night once myself. Can't see through walls though and she hasn't said anything and neither has he." "If he is." N'thei glances up toward the ledge in question, spots no smudge of green. With as bloodshot as his eyes are right now, there's a chance he can't actually see the ledge at all, let alone a green dragon that may or may not be on it. "He's suffering plenty already."
"Trust me." That's as much as N'thei's going to say about that, now unwinding from his long sojourn in that chair. He really should practice getting his joints to creak, as slowly as he unfolds himself, stands, pulls his jacket off the back of his chair. Milani just blinks at him some more, clearly stunned by this revelation. She's dropping her feet to the ground though, fishing for her shoes with her feet and rising with her things tucked under one arm. "Okay ..." she says slowly, still not quite getting it. She does however, lean in towards him as he stands, aims a kiss for his cheek. "Thanks," she murmurs again, down low. N'thei, back to monosyllables, "Mmn." He smudges his thumb across his cheek afterward, leaves shaking his head in a way that's probably meant to look bemused-- except, on him, it looks mean. Like most things. |
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