Logs:Running Away Together
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 10 May, 2015 |
| Who: R'oan, H'vier |
| Involves: Fort Weyr, High Reaches Weyr, Ista Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: R'oan and H'vier are both losers. |
| Where: Secluded Beach / Sandbar, Ista Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 10, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Irianke/Mentions, Tayte/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Lots of cussing. |
  |
| The glowing green and her rider were enjoying a nice afternoon to themselves, building up a sandhold through patient determination, thoroughly ignoring the state of that dragon and what must come of it. Yet, no one can put off the inevitable forever, and when she rises into the sky with a challenging cry to any dragon who dares, then, well, then the beach is invaded by the handful of riders. Dropped off by their dragons before those same dragons launch after the green, it's unclear how they will get away right now if their dragon fails to catch, but that is surely not on anyone's mind at the moment. Not when that greenrider, there, plucks so playfully at the strings of the bathing suit she wears. R'oan, certainly, is watching appreciatively, a half-smile on his lips as he offers her out his flask, ever so handy. Is that cheating? H'vier was enjoying a drink at the Lucky Seven, but of course Reisoth would mess that up. The fortunate thing is that the bronze at least dropped his rider off in easy walking distance of the greenrider before taking flight after that enticingly glowing tail. H'vier watches the green's rider as though she's already wearing nothing, though bathing suits don't leave a ton to the imagination anyway, but when R'oan gets in his line of site, he rumbles warningly, "Hands off." Even if there aren't any hands involved yet. "Make me," is warmly amused by H'vier's command, though the brownrider's gaze slides to the greenrider there rather than lingering on the bronze. He even adds in a teasing, suggestive question, "Do you want me to keep my hands to myself?" But whatever the answer is, it is lost as another dragon catches hers, twining so easily around the green and leaving the other dragons to their own frustration. The bronzerider makes no move to make the brownrider do anything. Not even once the green has been caught by someone else and H'vier is all unsatisfied, aroused tension. He doesn't move away right away, granted, watching as the winner's rider approaches in that familiarly frantic lust-induced stagger. When he realizes that said rider is another woman, H'vier will just have to linger to watch them awhile longer. It doesn't help that tension very much. R'oan doesn't; certainly, one would suspect him to be the type that would, but even H'vier's lingering gets a darkly narrowed look from the brownrider. He moves forward to catch at the man's arm or shirt or something just to pull him as if to yank him away. "Get your fucking dragon down here," is what he tells the wingleader. And even in the distance, Etrevth approaches and lands, waiting to take his own away. H'vier gets yanked, but he pulls away to round on the brownrider with an annoyed, "Don't fucking touch me." Maybe surprisingly, that's where the extent of his reaction ends. But R'oan is successful in getting his attention off of the woman and instead H'vier looks up for the bronze circling lazily overhead. "He doesn't want to land," he adds a few annoyed moments later before basically demanding, "Give me a ride out of here." Where H'vier doesn't react physically, R'oan does. He pushes the bronzerider towards the waiting brown by way of answer, before he starts in that direction himself to climb onto Etrevth with the surety of experience but the awkwardness of, well, lingering desire. The touching makes him make more noises, but H'vier actually goes instead of taking exception to it. He climbs up behind R'oan, and if there happens to be anything there to notice in whatever contact happens, everyone would probably be better off just ignoring it instead. "Go to the Sandbar," he sort of suggests and sort of orders. Look, maybe that was already R'oan's intention, maybe he is not just blindly following orders right now as Etrevth wheels on a wing towards the Sandbar. But when the brown backwings into a landing, it is over water that he does so, catching himself right above the ocean before allowing himself to drop down the last few inches into the water below with his passengers still on his back. His rider comes up sputtering, cursing, and threatening, "I am going to find someone to replace you." He doesn't apologize to H'vier, though, before he starts swimming to shore. H'vier isn't so rude, that he'll go off on someone else's dragon when it could still drown him pretty easily. Instead he swims after R'oan with all of his attention focused on getting out of the damned water. Except that once he gets out of said water, he only sinks to his knees and twists to lay on his back so that the surf still touches his legs, but probably won't drown him. "Sharding greens." All the greens' faults. By the time that R'oan reaches the shore, it has certainly burned off the excess tension and need, allowing him to only agree with H'vier in a dry, "Let's all stop chasing them." He continues to stand, but he stays with H'vier there, turning on the beach to lift his gaze with a hand shading over his eyes to find the spot of the distant green and her mate. "I tried that. When the woman I was fucking," not a weyrmate, apparently, "didn't want me fucking anyone else." It clearly went over super well. H'vier lifts his hands to rub over his face, then pulls himself back up to sitting to look out over the water. "I need a drink," he says after a moment, then, "Do you want a drink?" He'll be on his feet again in another moment, careless of whatever sand he's picked up on the way. "And now the woman you're fucking likely encourages you to fuck other people," R'oan points out with no small amount of amusement on his part, though it is at least equally directed at himself as well. But then H'vier's question earns a nod, an agreed, "Yeah," before he finally twists away from the distantly falling dragons and the bronzerider on the beach to start towards the bar there. "There's no woman I'm fucking now," says H'vier as he moves along with the brownrider toward the bar. "If you're talking about Irianke, I haven't fucked her since..." He has to think about it. That's how long ago it was. He doesn't seem particularly happy to be thinking about that. "Sharding women." Just like greens. "I'm not really interested in hearing how often you've fucked her, either." Just for the record. "No? You don't want to share tips and techniques and arrange our schedules?" is a dry response on the brownrider's part, the only response that he offers to that since R'oan doesn't seem likely to be about to tell him when his last time was. Dripping wet still, though, he will drag himself up to the bar to gesture to the bartender for them both. "If we're gonna do all that, why don't we just fuck her at the same time and not have to worry about telling when we can show each other," suggests H'vier without sounding even a little bit serious. Maybe slightly agitated, but not serious. When the bartender comes for their order, the bronzerider asks for whiskey and a lot of it. Basically just bring the bottle to him and he'll be happy. Ish. R'oan waits until the bartender has brought back a glass for him, at least, before he adds flatly, "Thank you, but I think I'd rather do-- literally anything else rather than watching you fuck her." "I think I'd rather you watch than me," says H'vier after a thoughtful moment, once he's had a chance to take a long, long drink. He even makes a pleased sound for the burn as he swallows. "Don't let me keep you from going to find someone to keep your junk warm now," he adds, probably considering finding a similar, but not the same, someone. "I'm not in the mood," is all R'oan murmurs in response, his narrowed gaze falling on his glass of whiskey as he swirls it sullenly, but then he is pushing away from the bar to throw back the rest of it. He sets the neatly upside down, before he says, "Thanks for the drink," and turns to retreat back to the beach and the dragon who must be lingering in the water beyond. The answer makes H'vier turn his head to look at the other man. He doesn't frown, but there's something in his expression that suggests he at least sympathizes to some extent. Fortunately for R'oan, though, that's where it stops. The bronzerider doesn't get up to follow. He has a bottle of whiskey to finish and every intention of doing so. |
Leave A Comment