Logs:Surprising Sentiment
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| RL Date: 14 January, 2015 |
| Who: K'zin, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'zin talks to his girlfriend about a gift from his boyfriend(?). Surprisingly, there is no fight, but then, they are expert avoiders! |
| Where: K'zin's Training Room, Artful Artifice Weyr |
| When: Day 21, Month 10, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Suireh/Mentions, T'volt/Mentions, Teris/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated |
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| K'zin's Training Room, Artful Artifice Weyr The big bubble of a cavern that matches the one on the other side of the shared hearth provides plenty of space now that the big bed has been cleared out of it. In the entry way, there's a set of shelves holding all variety of training equipment, many of smith-work to provide added resistance. The floor is mostly covered in a layer of matting, just enough to keep a person from hurting themselves on the stone when thrown to the floor. Suspended on one side of the room is a large punching bag that looks like a hand-me-down from somewhere, and certainly seeing a fair bit of use, as some spots show bloody knuckle-prints that can't yet be qualified as old. There's a little more than waist high set of parallel bars, though not longer than is useful for a single person, and a pull up bar installed high on one wall. On the other side of the room from the punching bag is something that looks a little like a totem pole, layers of cylindrical trunk stacked with arms of varying sizes sticking out from each layer. Each layer twists independently, and it looks like the arms can be taken off as desired; something to test and practice one's agility and ability to dodge.
Telavi's not the only one upside down. K'zin's set of vertical push-ups finish and he pushes up onto his hands, toes balanced on the wall before tucking his head and letting his body sink/roll onto the mat so he ends up on his back looking up at the greenrider. "Don't tell me, you're going to run off and join the gather? Solith will do scarf dances?" He guesses, raising his brows at the greenrider, so serious. "Your Silver Thread training will really pay off there." Did they cover exotic acts? "Scarf dances? Did you hear that?" the greenrider calls with one hand cupped about her lips, as though Solith were out in the weyr to listen instead of relishing the breezy weather; it turns out that Tela's physical accomplishments extend to dimpling upside down, too. It must be those Turns of practice. "Absolutely. Really, I don't know why we didn't do more of this at the time." She wiggles her toes, then starts rocking, slowly and shallowly at first with the flats of her hands ready if she swings too close to the rock. "The twirl thing especially, when she went around and around and around... We'd need music, though, you know." "No, no," K'zin answers the last Very Very Seriously. "Everyone knows the Harpers keep a strict monopoly on all music. They'll take off your fingers faster than you can pluck a gitar string. I wouldn't chance it. You know those Harpers are known for their cruel and unusual methods of torture." The added amusement that shows on K'zin's face no doubt means he's thinking, however briefly, of his favorite harper. "Do you plan to make this change permanent?" He asks pointing to his own face, probably meaning the coloring of her face. "If so, I'm not sure this relationship is going to work for me. I mean, wearing a pink shirt is one thing," and even that he objected to, "but having a pink girlfriend..." He regards her with decided dubiousness. Telavi had just started to reach up for the bar to pull up-- it's all that laughing for harper fingers-stealers that delayed it-- and while she doesn't abort the gesture entirely, there is that hiccup of near-halt that goes with the stuck-out lower lip. Upper lip, compared to ceiling and floor. "K'zin. That you could say such a thing. You know it's not the right pink to go with my clothes. No, no," this while dangling sideways by that one hand, the other free to flourish a flounce, "I'm going green." "So you're going to be sick? Or jealous?" K'zin squints at her before he's shifting a little to begin a set of crunches. Paused, "There must be a good green," Telavi then mourns. "Those two sound horrible'. Envious isn't good either. Neither are grass stains." Those might even be worse. K'zin considers, "Well, being green," which arguably might not be the same as 'going green,' "isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes I think experience is the death of ingenuity. Except for us in bed." Them specifically. What might have been briefly-sober speculation just turns into dimples; evidently Tela isn't fussing about in-versus-out. "What?--" and she's lowering herself down, starting to shake out her arms, starting to turn more-or-less her normal color again, "--you don't think all that, 'Do it this way, it works,' is inspirational?" She has a snappy salute to go with it, too. "In or out of bed?" K'zin needs to know as he starts the next set. Even after all this time, Telavi blushes-- at least it's a different shade!-- right before her pert, "No comment." She keeps turning, not just color but to kick up against the wall, the better to lean against the length of her leg and stretch. K'zin will give her a look that is all too telling that he's putting a chalk marker for K'zin: 1, Tela: 0, for the current round as he finishes his set. "I'm not sure I'd like to be bronze, if we're going by dragon colors," he says casually. "The weavers can never get the dyes quite right," he winks at her, wrapping his arms around his legs during his rest. But if Telavi's not looking-- no, no, when does Tela ever not peek. She does it discreetly, at least, through her lashes. "Mmm," she says for bronze, casually. "Those weavers. You'd think by now, they'd have a recipe for every bronze under the..." In this next glance, her gaze finds itself lingering on his wrist, that wristlet, "...sun. That reminds me--" "You want me to get a new gather doublet in bronze?" Nope, still no good. K'zin still doesn't have mind-reading down. What good are those sharding Silver Thread lessons anyway?! He squints at her before twisting to reach for his water, to sip swiftly before the next set. She laughs, and says all dramatically, "Not bronze." No, no; "I've been wondering--" about that wristlet he's been wearing for a while now? "--about changing up my routine, exercise-wise. What with the last weyrlings going," flitter-flutter go Tela's hands, as though off into the Great Beyond instead of just some wing or other. K'zin's brows rise as he looks at her. "Well... how?" She's got to give him a little more to go on. "I mean, to what end?" "Change it up." Isn't that an end in itself? "I don't know, different. I mean, I like running," Tela says, "but it's getting slippery out and maybe I don't have to do as much of it, maybe there's something better to do before there's another clutch and it's run ready-or-not. You know?" Run, throw things, all of that; for now, she settles for switching which leg is up in order to stretch the other one. "You could..." K'zin thinks, "do more climbing? More swimming? Maybe even rowing if you find somewhere warm." The bronzerider shrugs his shoulders. "I can show you some different strength training stuff, if you like?" The last set is finished now and he starts to stretching himself. "Want to do a little partner stretching?" He shifts to face her before spreading his legs so their toes can touch and they can reach across the distance one at a time to be pulled gently by the forearm toward the other. "Rowing and swimming, I'd have to go somewhere," audibly exaggerated, the horror! so difficult! So maybe not every day. "I do like partner stretching," Tela is forced to admit with a glance through her lashes, settling down to enable that very thing. Not other things, that glance not traveling as far as it might, because this is supposed to be serious business-- it's just that the one grip turns out to be harder to get, her hand hovering over his wrist before settling into the familiar clasp. "What's the story behind that, anyway?" she wonders with a tilt of her chin. "The story behind what?" K'zin asks. Even with the tilt of the chin, it's best to be sure. "Your..." thingy? bracelet? "wristband," is what Telavi decides on. "Oh." Not because he didn't know that's what she meant, but rather because he hoped it wasn't. "It was a gift from T'volt. After Teris... No, after Iskiveth died." He corrects himself. It's all a little awkward, but he's trying for 'no big deal.' Leaning forward is good for stretching; it also, given how she seeks to keep her elbows back and flexed, could be good for peeking. "Oh," Telavi finds herself repeating. "I didn't think he... gave you things," her tone more bemused than anything else. What she can do is more consciously loosen up, the better to complete the stretch the more traditional way. Her words prompt a blush to hurry to K'zin's dusky cheeks. (That blood could so be doing something more useful right now.) "He doesn't...really... This is the first time. I mean, beers and food and stuff," admission tickets to races and so on, "but we both do that." The bronzerider shrugs (not part of the stretch). It's a moment later that K'zin relates a little guiltily. "It has an inscription." Not part of the stretch! That must be why bemusement's leaning a tad toward discombobulation-- in a precognitive sort of way. given how it's also a little ahead of time. Tela's lips round just shy of the latest oh. "What's... does it say?" she wonders without dropping her hands, this time. "It's embarrassing to say out loud." K'zin sighs, his taking on more color. But then, this is Tela. If he can't say it to her... He doesn't, in fact, say it, but more mutters if not mumbles, "Everything isn't my fault. So there." Then he's breaking the stretch so he can scrub his hands across his face. "Told you it was embarrassing." A beat, and then, "But it helps." Telavi looks at K'zin and she looks at the wrist thingy and... maybe it's that blush of his, but she's easing somewhat even before he surprises a laugh out of her. It's a quiet laugh, more of a giggle really, but-- with her hands not free to muffle it-- not quite quashed. Even once they are, one hand going to her mouth, how does she feel about that anyway? Finally words come out. "...Good. I mean, I'm glad. That it helps." A little breath. "That's... sort of warm and fuzzy, isn't it," and who'd have thought that man would do something like that? "It is." K'zin admits quietly, solemnly. One hand moves to twist the band on his wrist self-consciously. "It's been over four turns." He relates, then hurriedly, "Not as long as us, obviously," that hand twists the band again, eyes sliding away from Tela as his blush returns with his saying, "I'm not sure either of us can really deny it's something anymore." His grin is a little boyish and a little fond as he looks to the wristlet, "But that doesn't mean we always have to admit it." Now he looks at Tela, a touch fearful of whatever Things his speaking so relatively freely might have incurred. The hurry, that might tease a hint of smile out of the solemnity she'd borrowed; the fondness.... Telavi holds her lips together against what might leap out, but when nothing does, she settles for biting the lower. When K'zin looks at her-- Tela gives a small hopeful-if-awkward shrug, one that leads to her hands kind of fluttering. These feelings! She doesn't know! "So, hamstrings next?" K'zin suggests, clearly meaning to do hers first by the way he shifts up onto his knees. And everyone knows that a good hamstring stretch will soon be followed by good sex. Fact of life in partners doing partner stretching. Otherwise known as an escape from words, on top of good times. "Yes," Telavi is-- after the barest of moments-- all too ready to agree; one might even call her a stretching devotee. |
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