Logs:Something Close To Honest
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| RL Date: 21 February, 2013 |
| Who: Brieli, N'rov |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After Logs:Detente, Aishani (aka Brieli) and N'rov conduct 'business', then talk knives and plans. |
| Where: Brieli and Iesaryth's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 16, Month 1, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: R'hin/Mentions, K'del/Mentions |
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| The fog might deter any business being transacted on the way back to a weyr empty of one big gold dragon, but they can certainly continue to discuss it, and if that deters anyone from running into them on the trip, so much the better. It's not so unusual that Shani doesn't even bother with any preliminaries beyond leading the way to her bed, taking off and tossing N'rov her shirt along the way, with a bright-eyed smiling glance over her shoulder; it might be unusual that later, when she's warmly fitted against him, head on his shoulder, fingers drifting though his curls, she should ask sleepily, "Why would anyone give anyone a knife?" What? They're short curls, recently trimmed and springy beneath her fingers, adding only a little winter-warmth to his skull. "Hm? To use it," N'rov says quite lazily, and tugs the furs all the way up to his chin. "Unless, I guess, it's some memento. Like a Gather mark, but then what's the point." He rolls his eyes in her direction without actually moving. "You don't collect those or anything, do you?" If she's disappointed by that trim, any of it has been lost in the discussions in the bar, everything after. Aishani is likewise covered if N'rov's going to pull the blankets up that high, over her head nearly - enought that she needs to pull herself off his shoulder and up onto the pillow, expression sulky in the dim light. She was comfortable. "No. I'm not trying to collect them." She wrinkles her nose a little, before, "R'hin gave me one. From Crom. Before the clutching." So he grins up at her and, nabbing the edge of the furs, waves that edge in the air like he's going to dust those wrinkles right off her nose. "That old weyrleader, the one you met with? Is it fancy?" Loosing her hand to swat at that edge, grinning - likely the point - she settles into the pillow and her tangled hair, looking over at him, uncertain. "Yes. And not particularly... well-balanced. A good knife. Said he was curious. That it reminded him of me." A pause. "I think... he knows something. Not enough to tell me. But enough to poke me about it?" "Enough to," N'rov half-interrupts, and then he's nodding against his own pillow. "To poke you, maybe to see what you'll do, you think?" Tired or no, he's got a gleam in his eye, for /puzzles/ worth abandoning the fur-duster for. "Is it blade-weighted, or hilt-?" "Maybe to see if I gave anything up?" Shani has a little roll of her eyes for that gleam in his eye, reaching out to poke him lightly. "This is important," for all that she's grinning at him, can't stop herself. "I can't exactly ask how far it's all gotten. Though... I could send word." Arching brows like 'does it matter?' "Hilt. Haven't thrown it yet though." "Exactly." N'rov bravely withstands all that poking without giving her more than a smirk for it, though then he lifts up on one elbow so he can gesture with his free hand. "Or maybe someone's watching for you to send word to /someone/. Even if it's not one of his people. Does he have people, you think? It seems like he /should/, with all this hinting and knife-stuff and everything." He slices at the air: take that, foul shadow! And that! "Hilt-weighted seems more... conservative. But maybe it's a message: track down the maker and you'll find out something interesting." That smirk widens. With a sigh, "No doubt someone's watching me to do something nefarious, or suspicious. Maybe it's not the best time. They... they don't even care anyway." If Shani's talking about her family - which she likely is, by the way she's glancing away, down - she's probably not entirely right. As for people, "I'd expect so. I see him talking to enough people, I've overheard things. Contacts, certainly." At least the gesture draw a little laugh from her, as she arches fine brows up at him, amused. "He did mention the apprentice. But I don't go there, N'rov. And I can't now." "No, Shani, the girl who wanted to know how you were doing, who wanted that pouch of yours, who urgently wanted to make sure you were all right, she doesn't care at all," N'rov teases affectionately, if pointedly, leaning to try and intercept her gaze. "Contacts. I should get myself some of those. And... only apprentice make? Or is that supposed to mean something too? I could go for you. Except for the part where that would be /going there/," by his tone, not just physically. "She's not..." Shani starts, but can't quite finish; she can smile for him, look up to meet his gaze. "It's hard sometimes," she starts again. "Not seeing them. But being at home with you... that helps." No more poking, just light fingers along his jawline, his cheek. Wryly, "They do seem useful. I have a few. I'd like minions, but..." A shrug. What do you do. With a smirk, "Everything can mean something if you look for it. And I don't know... I think maybe let's see. It might not matter. He might not push it. And... if things go as they are, I don't know that I should be in a position to be blackmailed." N'rov rubs his jaw against her fingers, like Vhaeryth might, at least until he pauses to admire that shrug. "I'm glad it helps," he says plainly. "I hope you'll be able to see them, down the road. As it were," that with a half-smile. "And yes, let's skip the blackmail. Junior, senior, better not to have that hanging over you." This time, for his more accidental phrasing, it's less smile than grimace. Any resemblance he has to his dragon has Shani smiling, and she has to lean in for a slow kiss despite the grimace. Forgiven. "It's nice to be around family, if not part of one, once in awhile. And we'll see. Time heals all wounds, they say." But that's wry too; would she be there if it did? Careful now, "I've been thinking of a way to... come out, as they say? In a totally different way, but. It's kind of... out of the box." "Tell me," only N'rov puts out a hand, hold that thought, and then rearranges onto both elbows, now, so he can appropriately listen and smile down at her at the very same time. "Now tell me." "Now? Now that you're looking at me like that." Shani's shifted to look up at him, quite charmed - and on her way to well-distracted. What were they talking about? She lets her dark gaze drift lower, linger before she's back to the topic at hand. Ahem. Blinking, flushed, "If I were confirmed as senior, it might not matter so much. It might just be a bit of a scandal." Sobering, her tone lowers as she adds, "And if I could get K'del to be part of it, I could tell him first. Who he gave his Weyr to. I think... I think that might be enough." N'rov gives her a lazy look that's completely un-prompting, very much with the distracting until she looks down, at which point it becomes a slow grin. At least, until she gets back to speaking, when he's suddenly intent. "/Do/ you think you could get him to be part of it?" It's tough to switch gears like that, but somehow Shani manages... or maybe not totally, because her hands have started wandering, into tragically trimmed dark hair, down his chest. "I think, if he wants to be Weyrleader more than he hates me, if I can make him believe I need his help, I can." She sounds less certain about this than other lies she's told, but she's no less determined. N'rov's eyes have narrowed, but in concentration. "Make him believe /High Reaches/ needs his help, more than anything. And that the two of you can make that happen." He must hear himself, then, for he reaches for her with a different sort of determination, something that has absolutely nothing to do with her working with a man she hates. "Yes. Duty, honor--" But then he's pulling her to him and Shani's kissing N'rov, definitely not wanting to think about that guy they were just talking about and all the new lies she'll have to make up to get out of the biggest one of her life. At least there between them, in the moments they have, it's something close to honest. |
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