Logs:Survivalist
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| RL Date: 6 May, 2015 |
| Who: Nala, M'vyn, Jynth, Elsyth |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After the storm, M'vyn seeks out Nala. |
| Where: Frosted Sea Glass Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 15, Month 9, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| OOC Notes: Mentions of suicide. Angst. Sex. |
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| The storm left M'vyn with the care of his children and more than his own as he ended up in the nurseries during the severity of it. With parents' unable to retrieve their children - whatever the reason - and too many frightened bodies present within the nursery walls, the former Harper entertained and soothed many with improvised instruments and his voice. Days later, this seems to have bolstered many views of the greenrider. He's left both children in the care of the nursery, evading children and nannies with requests to stay and sing with a humble, "I've got work," as his excuse. It isn't work that brings him calling to Nala's weyr. Elsyth imparts a vague request to Jynth, more telling than asking of her arrival on his ledge. M'vyn strides in and looks for the bluerider as he calls out, "Nala? Are you here?" Since the battering that the storm gave both dragon and rider, and the days of travel and discomfort since, Nala has been trying to keep busy and keep moving, as if by doing so she could stop her body seizing up and demanding the break it wants. It's a plan that's more or less worked for the moment, perhaps only due to sheer willpower, but there comes a point at which it ceases to be a secure strategy. Failure to comply with her own plan of action has left Nala sprawled across her bed, fully-clothed, aching limbs insisting that they not be curled and twisted. Her face is half-smooshed into her pillow when M'vyn arrives, her reply muffled by fabric, though the noise is audible, if not intelligible. Jynth doesn't have much to say for himself either, too sleepy to do much about Elsyth's arrival. M'vyn makes his way across the space that separates him from Nala and pauses over the bed. He hovers there for a moment, one hand moving to reach towards her shoulder and then pulling back. He seats himself on the edge near her feet and waits, watching her for movement. Elsyth won't be bothered to stay near Jynth as she returns to the Bowl and lingers nearer to where the children are. After a stretch of silence, M'vyn shifts on the bed and coughs lightly into his fist to clear his throat. "Ah, should I leave you? I didn't.., well. You've been through a lot." That's a statement and not a question, regardless of what little he knows of her survival outside of the Weyr during the storm. There's another noise that sounds closer to 'no' when M'vyn asks his question, though it takes another few moments for her to summon the effort and will to ease herself onto her back and lie there just as sprawled as before, any thoughts of needing to seem ladylike or demure cast aside. He's seen worse from her. "I should not have stopped," she tells the ceiling, though the words must be meant for M'vyn, as her right hand reaches, searching for one of his, fingers stretched out and fingertips seeking. "I know that it cannot have been much more pleasant here." M'vyn focuses on her reaching hand as he gathers her fingers into the warmth of his hand. "It is what it is," he supplies, "and you're back. I don't know how most of the Weyr feels. Those that had suffered the least, it's back to what it was before with some added hardships." He shrugs, a movement that transfers to her hand as it lifts and resettles on the bed. "The children were very frightened. I'm thankful one of us was able to be here and near them during it." He lifts his gaze to consider her face. "What exactly happened out there for you two?" Mention of the children brings no visible reaction from her, Nala's features blank even at the news that they were afraid. That she's still staring at the ceiling by dint of aching neck and shoulders makes it easier, though she does try to tilt her head a little and bring her gaze to M'vyn's when he makes that enquiry. "We got hurt," she states, "when the storm struck up. Then... we moved around, mostly. It was not fair to impose on anyone for too long. We did not know when it was going to end, besides." Rather than shrug, she twitches her fingers. "There are worse injuries than ours. Bumps and bruises. The infirmaries are busy enough as it is, with patients... quite literally closer to death, if I hear correctly." M'vyn does not seem surprised or bothered by Nala's reaction to the mention of their children. This has become their new norm since her return to Fort and he handles it without issue. He blinks a few times in response to her information and her shrug is mirrored by his own. "That is how these things go. Don't discount your own injuries because someone else is worse off. It still hurts," he allows, reaching forward with his other hand to brush the back of his fingers across her cheekbone. "There..," he hesitates, trying to decide on sharing something. He takes a breath, shakes his head, and continues, "I know that some were prepared to venture into the storm for you. Cece told me.. Hematite became quite insistent at one point." The unmentioned part of a certain greenrider is probably more telling than if he were to state her name. "I hope you know I am glad you are safe, but the children came first." The brief arch of Nala's brows says much for exactly what she believes of Hematite, though she manages to hold her tongue on that particular subject for now. "...I wondered... if it might have been easier not to worry about fighting it," she says a little too lightly for what her words imply. Maybe she's immune to it by now. "It would have been an efficient way to ensure none had to deal with such concerns." She lets her dark gaze drift back to the ceiling as she murmurs, "Anyway. I can understand where your priorities lie, since we heard nothing from you." It doesn't really sound like she means it as a jab, her manner as matter of fact as ever. "I gave you those children. They look to you first." 'Our', 'my', even a possessive slant on 'the' is surrendered as regards Nalyn and Grace. "Nala..," M'vyn's voice tightens and his fingers grip hers, "don't give in and let those thoughts have the power. Ever. You'd be taking Jynth to that final end.. and that would be selfish." For a man who has never thought much of his dragon, or one who has equally felt suicidal, he seems to take her statement to mean the worse whether or not that is what her words meant. "I knew you could handle yourself. Why would I fuss at you?" He can't help the scoffing tone to his voice, as his brows raise. "You are a survivalist at heart. Elsyth would have only harassed Jynth. It was better I kept silent." Whether or not her intention had ever been to give him the children, his facial features soften at the mention of it and he leans forward to press his lips lightly against her cheek. "And I love you for the gift you've given me." "It would be selfish," Nala acknowledges in that same, half-lazy manner. "But--" What she might argue or state to amend her acknowledgement, she appears to run out of energy to say even as she begins, for she only sighs instead. "It's true that she would have wearied him further," the bluerider agrees, given time to breathe and gather herself. "...It was exhausting to reach or hear anyone, for a while." When he leans close enough to press his lips to her cheek, she lets him do as he intends, yet something of what he says manages to get past or break its way into her impassive blankness, her gaze colouring with pain as she determinedly swallows down whatever wants to fight its way free. Whether it's that he loves her, or what he refers to the children as, it's not enough to simply try and shut it out, and so, despite her aches, she reaches to twist a hand into his hair and tilts her head back to try and steal a fierce kiss to ignore it that way. Part of M'vyn knows better than to fall into that fierce kiss, that easy tactic to ignore the bigger picture; and then there is the part of him that knows nothing more than responding. Kiss is met for kiss. It is easier for them both, this falling to more primal urges, than sitting and discussing the realities they face. Hands will make short work of Nala's clothing, lips will stay on hers, and then travel downwards. Time will pass, leaving all further conversations behind. It's too easy to fall into and once there, M'vyn will always choose to stay and linger. This is how they first fell into love.. and it is this part of their love that M'vyn has always been the most confident navigating. It's more than enough to forget and dull both physical and other pains for a while, though the shedding of clothing just reveals the bruises easily identifiable as those caused by straps, the dark marks across her right thigh home to what is now an evenly-stitched break in the skin where leather stretched and bit. Nala pays it no more mind than the more minor shadows, her focus narrowed to nothing but M'vyn and the need to be skin to skin. Of course, as easy as it is to forget some things, this only invites other memories and recollections, and even by the time that they're spent and quiet, there's a sharper, possessive edge to lips that continue to explore the lines of his throat, that darker and brighter taint dragged out of the depths of her apathy. She embraces it easily, swearing, "Mine; always mine," only just loud enough to hear. M'vyn's arms are tight against Nala as she makes her claim, her possession matched by his own grunt of agreement. That's all he'll be able to share for a time as his body slows to more natural rhythms. Even when his thoughts are steered away from the contact of her skin and the feel of her body against his, he is not willing to break the silence by speaking. He presses his lips against whatever is closest - her mouth, her cheek, her hair. Sense returns enough for him to notice her injuries and his breath sharpens on an inhale as he lightly brushes a finger along a more noticeable bruise. "You're so tough," he murmurs, knowing the word is barely enough to describe the woman resting against him. "And," his voice lowers as he moves his lips closer to her ear, "you'll always be mine." Nala's happy enough to continue her exploration purely for the sake of maintaining contact, her intent seemingly not to do more than that, even as she drapes herself over him like she'd make her claim that much clearer to the universe that way. The sound that slips from her lips as he traces his finger over bruising could just as easily be pleasure as pain, if only for the fact that she doesn't twitch away, though she presses her eyes tight shut. She hides her face in the crook of M'vyn's neck as he speaks, another sound smothered, this one closer to a sob, but she doesn't let anything else escape, preferring to touch teeth there a final time once she's got control of herself and can go still. M'vyn would prefer her tears to the silence and he holds Nala through it all with a quietly released sigh when none of them seem ready to come. He tips his head back against the bedding and gazes up at the ceiling. Her touch of teeth earn her a growl that is as close to playful as he ever gets. He turns his face to bump a nose against hers and meet her gaze to hold. It seems that reality is beckoning as he tilts his head and grows still through a communication from Elsyth. His hands tighten against her hips briefly and then he begins to push himself from the bed. Still no more words are offered. The silence, without the tension, seems too delicate to disturb by their use. Nala slips back to the bed, rather than lie there and refuse to let reality back in, and slowly reaches to drag one of the blankets at its foot up around her waist, though she draws it no further as she eases herself back down on her front. She only watches him as he moves, her focus keen, belying the easy sprawl of her marked body. No effort is made on her part to break the silence, not until the moment before it seems he'll depart and leave her alone where she lies, which is when she blurts out a low, "Come back tonight." No upward inflection makes it a question or a request, as if she can't be needy or refused if she doesn't actually ask. M'vyn is finishing the buttons on his pants when he lifts his head up to gaze at Nala in the wake of that request. He smoothes his hand down across his chest for a moment in thought. It is not a long enough stretch to be uncomfortable or seem like a refusal as he uses the rest of the silence to return to her side and press a kiss to her forehead. He pulls the blankets more fully around her and tucks it in around her hips. "Okay," is the only answer he could give to that request. He'll leave then and return later in the night, after the duties of his wing, the time spent with the children, and any other tasks needing tending are completed. If he finds a reason to show her love rather than speak, well, that was only to be expected. It's only as dawn creeps its way back to the start of a new day that he murmurs to her, whether she is sleeping or awake, "Stay. Always choose to stay. You are wanted. I love you." He won't make mention of it again, knowing better than to ask her in a confrontational way. But one more claim is placed on her in that request all the same. |
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