Logs:Searching Elise
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| RL Date: 25 January, 2014 |
| Who: Elise, N'dalis |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Elise and N'dalis both think to hide away from Isyath's impending flight in the training room. It's very nearly a bad idea. |
| Where: Training Room, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 11, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Hattie/Mentions |
| Since it's all weird out in the bowl, Elise left to hide. Except her version of hiding, instead of actual hiding, is apparently to be in a public place. Not a very good strategy. Still, here she is, dressed in black leggings and a sleeveless tunic that hits just below her hips. She's taking out all of her sudden moodiness by beating up one of the punching bags strung up for that very purpose; her lessons with Hattie weren't lost on her, and clearly she's been keeping up on them on her own if those swings are any indication. The sound of her fists hitting the bag, her breathing, these are the only things to hear; she's alone. She /was/ alone. The training room's not one of N'dalis' usual hangouts, but the oppression in the air, courtesy of Isyath, drives people to many things-- clearly, Elise and the greenrider have had a similar idea. Dal appears in the doorway, not visibly surprised to find that he's not alone, but still cautious. He sidesteps, carefully, around the edges of the room, taking pains not to interrupt the rhythm of Elise's blows or the patter of her feet. Since Dal is being so good at being so quiet, Elise doesn't notice him for another few hits, her hair flailing behind her in the tail she tied it up in. Thump thump-thump. Bob. Weave. Thump. It's in the last that she whirls around to deliver a particularly angry looking uppercut and sees him in the room with her. Her gasp is silent but the open mouth and sudden tensing are enough. "Dal! You /scared/ me!" is what she says when she recovers her voice, one of her taped-up hands lifting to smooth some flyaways down atop her head. N'dalis' cheeks go pink; he holds up both hands in a gesture of apology and, perhaps, protection: no punching him, pretty please. "Sorry," he says in answer, stopping his progress so that he can address the girl. "I didn't want to interrupt. It seemed like you were... in the zone, is that what they call it?" He lets that hang for a moment before he adds, "You looked good. You must practice a lot. I shouldn't've been surprised to find other people in here, on a day like today." Elise's shoulders are still heaving, both from the scare and the sudden halt to her momentum while her heart races to catch up in slowing down. "It's okay," she replies quickly, that same hand gesturing outward to ward off his apology. She even smiles when he says 'in the zone', her brow furrowing. "I'm not sure," is her hesitant answer, with a "thank you" for the compliment, as she looks down at herself a little shyly. "I practice every day." Suddenly her clothes seem a little... something. And there's tape on her hands. And her hair is all sweaty. But then again maybe she was all disheveled like this during Candidacy too, sometimes, so he's seen it before. She smiles and slow-nods for a long moment before realizing he said more things. "Oh, right. Um. No. I can go, if you were going to... I was just trying to get away from..." Vague gesture. You know. "No, no," says Dal, quickly - perhaps too quickly. His hands drop back towards his sides, then curl around his back so that he can hold them there, fingers intertwined. "Stay. I can keep out of your way. It's-- I know what you mean. I figured burning off some energy would probably be a good idea. Su keeps complaining that her head is going to explode." Probably not in those exact words, granted. He doesn't seem to have noticed her disheveled condition; his own smile is fleeting, that vague, hinted-at kind of smile that is much more his normal than the bright grins from before Suraieth's flight. There is a pause there when he tells her to stay. It isn't /awkward/ really, it's just... she was so ready for him to agree, so ready to leave. But she smiles again and stands there instead of retreating, even if she does look a little at a loss as far as what to do with her hands. "Are they being very loud?" she asks, with a cringe, like she didn't really /want/ to ask. His smile brings about another one from her, her head tilting. "It's nice to see you... more yourself. I guess. Not that you can't be out of sorts when she's... you know. I just mean..." Her turn for a flush. And then she seems to realize something and her eyes widen. "We can spar, if you want. That's what Hattie and I would do. We'd whack at each other with sticks. Or we can just sit down and talk. Or I can spot you!" Words words words. "Not yet," answers Dal, turning his gaze away from Elise and up towards the ceiling, as if he could see through to the sky, despite the stone. "When she goes up, yes. It's mostly... heat." He's scratching at his hands, behind his back. "It's, uh, nice to be more myself. Not that... well. You know." Although of course she doesn't, and he turns pink as a result. "Sparring! Uh. Okay. Let's do that. Sure." He casts around, looking for the nearest equipment rack. Heat. Great. Elise shakes her head to clear some of her own and moves on autopilot across the room to a side-space where things like large sticks and some other things like medicine balls, weights, etc are stored. She selects two of the batons and turns to head back, taking a deep breath on the way to calm herself. Is she acting weird? Is her face red? She's acting weird, she knows it. Because she's distracted she tosses Dal a stick instead of handing it to him, hopefully that isn't a problem, and takes a position a few feet away. "Okay," she announces, "come at me." Luckily, Dal's reflexes are good: he manages to catch the stick, and while the way he wields it suggests his familiarity with this particular form of exercise is limited, his expression is nonetheless determined. If it helps, his own cheeks are pink, and there's already a sheen of sweat upon his forehead. He adjusts his feet, frowns, and then attempts his first blow, expression a mask of intensity. She isn't surprised by his capabilities. In fact, when Dal makes his first move, she seems pleased. It's not in a smile, it's in the way she approves with her eyes after she blocks, the wooden clunk almost echoing in the quiet of the room. Her turn is taken perhaps not /as/ aggressively as if this were Hattie in front of her, but she's enthusiastic just the same. Her aim is high, must be his shoulder. Dragon> Though Isyath still slumbers, the stars brighten by measures. Not noticeably at first, but visible enough to one attuned to her moods. She'll wake, and soon, to judge by the heat that spreads across the Weyr. (To Fort dragons from Isyath) Dragon> To Fort dragons, Etrevth is every bit as attentive as his rider is not at the moment, the single-minded focus on that queen's mood one that only a dragon could attain. N'dalis seems pleased, abruptly smiling despite the deep furrow of his brow that may well have something to do with what's beginning to ramp up, outside. "Hah!" he says, meeting her stick with his own, apparently deeply satisfied by the resulting /thwack/ of wood against wood. His answering parry is aimed lower, and comes more quickly, in time with a sudden intake of breath. "She's waking," he says-- warns?-- uncomfortably. Dragon> For once, Vhaeryth doesn't move to hurry her; he lingers, observing... and then just as unhurriedly takes wing, though he /has/ planned his route to cross over Isyath's rest. He casts a long shadow, does Vhaeryth. (To Fort dragons from Vhaeryth) Thwack! This is the sound of the second block, and just when Elise is starting to get into a rhythm, Dal fills her in on the goings on in the dragon world. She stops, falters really, breathing heavily, and seems unsure for just a second. Should they keep going? How much longer are they going to be able to ignore it? Rather than call it quits though she ends up shaking her head again and saying, "Okay," and her next hit is more in line with what she might aim at the Senior Weyrwoman's arm. Except it's Dal's arm. It's Dal's arm, and the timing is just about perfect(ly bad): instead of lifting his stick to block, he stumbles, a shuddering breath escaping as he does so. Unsurprisingly, the blow connects, the greenrider yelps, and his stick drops to the ground. He doesn't seem /badly/ hurt, though he grabs for his arm and holds it, his eyes closing. "Sorry," he says, through gritted teeth. "I'm sorry." That's the sound of Elise saying 'shit' and dropping her stick with a clatter to join Dal's clatter and there's a lot of clatter, but she isn't paying attention to /that/. She's eating up the space between them with a quickness, her hands going to his arm and her concerned look directed first there, then up to his face. "Oh Dal I'm so sorry." They're both sorry. "I can take you to the infirmary. I'm so sorry." Her hand is on his face. How did that happen. She sees it and withdraws it immediately. "Sorry. Are you okay?" Dark eyes open, and seek Elise's bluer ones, an apology clearly written there. "No," he says, quickly, exhaling sharply. "No, it's not that bad. It's... just bruised, I think." He's aware of her proximity; his quick breaths have almost certainly more to do with that (and Isyath) than their short bout. The look on his face no longer seems to have much to do with pain: instead, he's just staring at her, eyes widening. They're staring up at each other then, though Elise's eyes do wander a little. To his nose. To his mouth. Bad idea. She looks at his chin instead. Better. "I'm sorry I swore," she blurts out suddenly, as suddenly it's so important. She meets his eyes again. "I should go." Except her other hand is still on his arm. For just a second her face looks pained, like she doesn't want to be doing or saying any of this, but she makes herself take her hand away and say, "I should go." And turn away from him, to pick up the sticks, because clearly she can't be trusted with her hands on all kinds of levels. "Elise." Dal's own hands are twitching at his sides. He says her name, and there are levels upon levels of meaning and emotion in there; he swallows, after. Then, he takes a deep breath. "You /should/ go. Or I should. Both of us. Somewhere else." He uses the back of his hand, his good one, to wipe some sweat from his brow. "Su says you should be a candidate and if you are, then--" Staying here could only lead to badness. Unsteady, shaky, bad hands. They drop everything. Or maybe that third clatter is a direct result of what he just said, and not her own fumblings, even if there are plenty of those. Elise whirls to face him again, her eyes big, and stares at him. She swallows, all the better to speak, though her voice isn't any stronger for it. "Dal, what are you saying to me." N'dalis' swallow is a thick one. "That you need to Stand. And that... Isyath is blooding her kills, and none of us are thinking straight." Which would be why he's started wrapping his arms around his middle, as if by doing so he can prevent anything untoward happening. "You will, won't you? You said you would." 'Kills'. Right. She's heard that before, often, but for some reason it's so much harder to hear right now. Her wince is for that, but also for something else. Maybe for Dal's arms around his middle. Maybe for the whole situation in general. "Yes," is her answer, though her voice sounds far off as she looks at him. And then she's approaching again, coming to stand there right in front of him with her arms at her sides. She looks up, tilts her head, and says, "This is the last time I might be able to do anything like this for a while, then. And we might not feel this way ever again." This must be a warning because up she goes on her toes to kiss him, not passionate but soft. In answer, Dal kisses back. Even under Isyath's influence, he knows, he /must/ know, that this is inadvisable, really not a smart thing to be doing, but... Elise's mouth is warm, and one of his arms is already freeing itself so that it can wrap around her back, and, okay, draw her closer. His arm's allowed, understandably, and Elise's hands have come up again to two places, one to his shoulder and the other to touch her fingers lightly to his cheek. And yes, it's stupid of them to be doing this, but it isn't their fault they were alive when Isyath rose. And besides, for all their recklessness, Elise proves to still have enough sense to pull away. Granted, it's not for a while. Like a few long moments. But she makes it happen! And keeps her eyes closed for one more moment after that. And when she opens them they're a little foggy until she blinks them clear. "Right." Yes. It may be that it's the sound of Elise's voice that stirs Dal out of the euphoric haze that's been preventing good sense. Abruptly, he exhales, and though he's yet to pull himself away wholly, there's something clearer in his expression - more firm. "We shouldn't," he says, then. "You're still--" Blood! A Candidate! Very Definitely A Virgin With No Understanding Of The Facts Of Life (In Dal's Mind). Pick one. Or all three. "I should go." The hand on his shoulder melts a little down to press firmly where his heartbeat might be, and then Elise is using that as a pushing-off point to step back from him and disconnect. But not without reluctance, and no small amount of confusion. "I'll stay and clean up." She looks from the sticks there on the floor to Dal, a kind of sadness in her eyes that's at odds with the smile she's also wearing. "Thank you. You remember what I said, about what Hattie said. I couldn't ask for myself. So thank you." Pause. "And I'm sorry about your arm. Again." N'dalis' heart, beneath her hand, is pounding, and the look on his face? Oh, it's torn. "I'm sorry," he says, sounding not that much short of desperate. "I shouldn't have--" But again, he cuts himself off, shaking his head as he digs his hands into the pockets of his trousers where, hopefully, they can stay out of trouble. "Good luck." He'll leave, now. At this time of the turn, the lake is probably cold enough to drown /most/ ardor. He shouldn't have. Those are the words he leaves her with. Nevermind 'good luck' because nobody ever remembers the /nice/ words in a time like this and Elise is still young enough that insecurity lurks in every corner. So she might look okay when he leaves, she even says 'bye', or something like it, but once he's gone she bites her lip very hard and turns to do something productive so she won't cry because nobody needs that right now. But maybe she does anyway. Luckily she doesn't look too crazy when she gets to the dorms with her things later, after settling everything. |
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