Logs:T'gar's Skills
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| RL Date: 13 December, 2015 |
| Who: Lys, T'gar |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Lys asks T'gar for advice and help in those areas that he's skilled. |
| Where: Hot Springs, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 14, Month 7, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: H'vier/Mentions, Jocelyn/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, T'zul/Mentions, V'ret/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Talk about sex~ |
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>---< Hot Springs, High Reaches Area (TP Room - HRW) >-----------------------< Even further north than the Weyr itself, a short flight between crags and over crevasses that even a wing-scarred veteran of Fall might undertake, a cluster of clearings lies low in the shelter of hardy trees and ancient stone. The outer two clearings might have been lost to more stubbly trees Turns ago, if it weren't for the centre-most: a natural pool of warm, softly bubbling water several dragonlengths across, with enough space for perhaps a half-dozen people and their lifemates. Though the air is cold all Turn round, and snowdrifts frequently whiten the ground, the geothermal activity heats the mineral-scented water to such a consistently comfortable heat that it becomes a refuge for those who don't wish to travel further afield to wash their dragons. Of the clearings that abut the spring, the nearest is only a few steps away, though it's small enough that only a few dragons can lounge at once. A steep trail descends to its substantially larger neighbor, a gravel-strewn crescent with enough space to spread out and enjoy the crisp air and the mountain range's admittedly spectacular views. The group trips to the hot springs are great. With as busy as Evyth and Lys have been in their capacity as wingleader this month, their trips here (as opposed to just bathing Evyth in the lake) have been fewer than some others. Today, however, consisted of grueling sky drills and soreness is eased by the heat of the mineral-scented water, so today they've accompanied the group. "T'gar," Lys' approach only comes when there's a chance to talk to him alone, the water keeping all the interesting bits out of sight. "Can we talk?" 'Privately' is certainly the implication. T'gar and Asaroth haven't always been joining in the group trips to the hot springs. Choosing to take the opportunity to hit the bathing pools in order not to share so much in space in the later hours of the day - but this time, he's here with his bronze, a little apart from the chatty group to settle himself against the spring edge with his head resting back with his eyes closed. When Lys arrives, his eyes doesn't open right away as he says in his Bitran accent, "What's going on, Lys?" in his relaxed state. Lys moves to sit beside (but not too close) to the bronzerider, silent for long enough that if she hadn't moved some water to get there, it might be wondered if she was, in fact, still there. "I need... advice," comes at length, followed by the slightly stilted, "about men," and then more honestly, "about sex." Lys does move but Rat keeps his head back. When she speaks - and the nature of what she says - opens his eyes and turns his head to look her way with a raised brow her way. "Sex?" he echoes, just a tad bit skeptical. "Just curious or are you looking to bang someone?" Lys' lips press together in a hard, displeased line and she gives T'gar a look back. Does he have to be so crude? "I'm looking to bang someone," is enunciated tartly back to the man she's asking for help from. "What do men like in bed?" After their talks on the diving cliff, is it any wonder she probably considers T'gar the resident expert? Returning that look, "Didn't think you were even interested in banging someone, from what you've told me before," Rat responds with open amusement. "What changed your mind? Or, even, who?" Head tilts a bit to look at her, her question getting even more of his piqued interest before he answers, "What...men....like. Men like anything, really. Depends on the man. What do you think this man would like?" "Ass," Lys says to his open amusement, reaching a hand to send a little splash of water in his direction on principle more than because she really wants to splash him. It's a slow breath she takes to try to stem the obvious blush. "Probably, this man would like me to be ready sooner than I am. But I don't know what I'm doing and I feel-- silly. Wanting him." She doesn't fill in who. "I need experience before Evyth would rise and he's--" She bites her lower lip. "I don't feel like 'silly and self-conscious' are really the sorts of things an experienced man would find appealing. What should I do? How should I dress? Should I write him stupid steamy love notes?" She really is looking to T'gar for advice here. (Faranth help her.) Laughing and ducking that hot splash, "I'm labeled an ass here just because I point out honest truths," T'gar says, not apologetic. "Letting the amusement die down, "There's nothing to feel silly about," he tells Lys, settling muscular arms to brace the edges of the springs behind himself. "If this guy's the decent sort, he'll likely have noticed your lack experience and would want you to be comfortable, more than the other way around. He'd want to know what you would like, or would at least try some things to see how you respond to him. Love notes, though?" Lys gets a look for that before he snickers and says, "Unless he's prettier than you and requires some handpicked flowers to go with it. None of that stuff really matters. I'm pretty sure you could show up in a tuber sack and I'd still bang." "You're labeled as an ass here just because you wanted to see if I would say I wanted to bang someone," Lys counters, still tart. "He does," is unhappy, "which makes me feel worse for my awkwardness and inexperience. I'm not used to people-- I'm just-- I'm not someone people like or are nice to, until--" Now? She sighs, turning around so she can lean against the wall, folding her arms. "Do you ever feel self-conscious when you're with a girl? I-- I'm not-- I don't even really care if it's good for me, or not," a lie, but one she's telling herself, "I just don't want to be laughable," this part is true. "When my roommates would have sex," she says quietly, "the sounds were--" laughable. So laughable. She grimaces. "Because you should own what you want to do," T'gar counters on his being an ass with amusement now. "As for feeling self-conscious, I hardly do. When you're in the moment, all of that sort of goes away. He'll probably be too busy staring at your tits to notice you being self-conscious. I'm sure you won't be laughable. Maybe he'll lead and take the pressure off of you. That's what I would do." Pause. "You were listening in on your roommates having sex." That alone, to Rat, must be laughable. "Owning and cheapening are two different things," Lys doesn't think the words, clearly, before she says them because they certainly hint toward there being more than just the longing of loins twisted up in this experiment. "There were a lot of us in a very small space. If you wanted sleep and they wanted sex--" not much choice, the blonde defends, glowering at the bronzerider briefly. "It only happened on feast nights, usually." But who cares about Lys' old roommates' sexual exploits. Not Lys, not really. "What if after the moment is over, it's all awful? What if we do it the one time and things are horrible and then we never-- un-horrible it?" The end is lame explanation, but this is hardly a conversation in Lys' wheelhouse. "Banging is what you make of it," Rat says, not backing down on the matter. "You know what it means to you. Just because I can openly admit that I want to bang someone doesn't mean my dick's waiting outside my pants for the first girl to walk by. Even I have standards. Sometimes." Right. Lys's question, though, gets his brows furrowing with a look in her direction and not a quick answer to the fore. "Well," he says slowly, as if weighing his words, "not sure about that. I mean, bad sex happens. If I'm bad at it, I usually don't see the girl come by anymore. If sex is all that matters, anyway. They'll move on if so. Has he been just looking to bang?" he asks now. "Yes, I'm sure. How many Lady Rights are lined up to see your new weyr?" Lys asks with a challenging lift of her brows. She shifts against the wall so she can lay her head on her arms, no longer looking at T'gar. "I don't know," seems honest. "It seems like an awful lot of effort to put in just to get a virgin in bed. There are other girls who are virgins," probably mostly younger than she, granted, "so if that was all he was after he might have an easier time with someone else." She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and chews it, trepidation showing in her expression. "But the thing is that I'm not sure it's about anything else. It might still be only about banging but not be about just banging once, couldn't it? Do men think that way?" Long-term banging solutions? "None," T'gar is non-plussed in answering Lys' challenging question. "I'm the asshole, remember?" On virgins though, there's a slight shrug that displaces the water around him from his dangling fingers before he answers, "If he hasn't left already, he might think you're worth the wait. Do you want this to be about banging only? Has he given you that impression? What do you want from this?" "Yeah, but you're the hot asshole who writes dirty letters to girls to keep them warm for you." Lys clearly doubts this nil claim. "What if I'm not worth the wait though? Like, what if it would've just been better for him to press me harder to get it over with faster and then have it all done? It's shit like this," thinking like this, "that makes me remember why I never wanted to bang anyone ever. Why the shell does Evyth have to be so damned green." That's the exasperation talking. See what sex does to her? And she hasn't even had it yet! "He keeps being so nice about all of it. I almost wish he wouldn't make it about what I want, what's good for me, because I don't know either of those things. I don't have enough experience to know, and I'm not-- I'm not the kind of girl who's worth waiting for." That darkens her blush but seems to come from somewhere very humble within her. Girl's got Issues. T'gar snorts to Lys' counter, shaking his head as he settles back and says, "Reachian girls are a tougher lot to crack. The charms of dirty letters don't work on you lot." On the rest, though, the bronze weyrling shakes his head to her questions before he answers with a wry, "I think you're overthinking it all. Just take it easy. Have you tried telling these things to him?" And, even the last has him turning his head towards the blonde with open disbelief before he says, "Lys. You're worth waiting for. If this guy has a brain, he'll know it, too." Then after a moment, "I hear drinking something helps." Because he's helpful, see. Probably, Lys would like to say something snarky about 'Reaches girls, but it's that last that has her blushing even more deeply and hiding her face in a hollow she makes between her arms and the wall by pushing back and straightening the former. It's some slow breaths before she raises her head and looks at T'gar. "All the booze in the world won't help me," she fears anyway. "I've tried telling him some, but he's always so-- so damned understanding. And then it's all about me again, and I just-- I don't want things to be about me. They've never been about me. They shouldn't--" It's not the natural order, see? She slaps the rock with open palms, frustrated. "I should have just let some asshole fuck me when I was sixteen. Then all of this would be--" No big deal? Well. "Damnit." Thoroughly flustered now, and possibly mostly she's only got herself to blame. "It should be about you," T'gar disagrees. "It's a problem when it's about him, or so I've been told by girls. Means he doesn't give a fuck. You think guys like that are going to make it good? You prefer someone that doesn't respect you?" Girl issues indeed. Rat watches her, and the chatty group they joined. "I'm not used to being respected," Lys says it so quietly. "I'm turning into this person that is a stranger to me, T'gar. I used to be invisible." She was content to be invisible. "I'm never going to be that girl again, am I." It's not really a question. She sighs. "Do you need a wingman?" Probably woman, really, since she must surely be talking about herself. "You're a dragonrider now," T'gar says, the words sober from his usual. "Respect is coming, especially from outside these walls. People are going to look at you differently just because you have Evyth by your side. The Lys you were before her already has an expiration date. Whether you bang or not is not going to change that." Lys's offer of being her wingwoman draws a smile from him before fingers lift from the water to try and poke at her wet shoulder. "The one I have my sights on, she's out of my league," he says to her. "I could use my own space, though. Booze would be nice. Taking a step back from all things banging for now." He does look tired, being in wingleader meetings and all that and trying to keep up with the workload. There's a brief turn of Lys' head to snap a bite at T'gar's poking finger. It's just enough to suggest that's what it's intended for, but not enough to actually suggest she'd really bite him. "Well, then, there's your problem. Your aim." Aiming high. This, however, seems all humor without sting. "If you change your mind, having a High Reaches girl at your side might help," and thus it seems Lys' offer will stand. All that might make the next, abrupt, but quiet, "If you had a sister, would you let V'ret bed her?" seem to come out of nowhere. T'gar slips that finger back fast enough from Lys' chompers, lifting it up to wave from side to side in playful negation. "There's a few guys that like a girl that bites, you know," he teases now right then. On aiming high and changing his mind, there's low laughter to that before he nods once and says, "Well, I'm not ready to throw in the towel on her yet. I don't give up that easily. I'll keep that in mind, though, if you're going to be my wingwoman really, you're going to need to get thoroughly banged first." He's even saying it with a straight face. Then Lys's question draws a pause from him, clearly not expecting it since an answer doesn't come right away. When it does, he shrugs a bit before he says, "Why not? He seems pretty stand-up to me. More than I am, anyway." "Well, maybe I'll try it." The biting, the banging, it could be either or both. Lys' reply comes with sass. "You just don't want my innocence and easy blush to spoil your more colorful lines," she accuses, darkly (if humorously). "If you're going to be my bar for decency, I might already be in trouble." The mumble that follows might be 'dirty letters'. "How are you doing with everything anyway? I feel a little less like I'm drowning since V'ret's become a second wingsecond." Another mutter under her breath includes "T'zul" and something about "trouble locating his own asshole." "Maybe you should," because Rat totally encourages any kind of kinky behavior, evidently. On innocence and wingwomen, there's laughter and then, "They'll think I'm training you to be corruptible. You're already in trouble if I'm the one you came to in asking for sex advice." The amusement fades in light of how he's doing, head moving as if to crack his neck before answering. "It's going," he says. "The drills, me and Asaroth can do. Physical activity's been my life before the Reaches. The meetings and the workload is another matter. Not that I can't do it," he's quick to say, perhaps realizing that he is talking to Lys the wingleader about work. "If they think you're training me, then you'll probably get the kinkiest ones," Lys tells him, deadpan. "The biters," she adds, monotone. "Who else was I supposed to ask? I didn't want to ask him and the only other person I would've asked is dead," so, there's that. T'gar, second choice to a dead man. "Jocelyn and I are studying for silver threads together some nights. It makes some of it easier. If you want, we could do that too? I think... we're probably all struggling to keep up now." There's a little smile, "And in exchange for my invaluable study help, you can lead morning workouts three times a seven?" It's nice that she's negotiating since she could technically just tell him to do it. Wingleading has its perks. "I'm not always looking for the kinky ones," T'gar notes wryly. "Or the biters. I doubt my Out of League girl is into any of that. It'd be nice if she was, admittedly." Well. As for being the second choice to a dead man, Lys gets a deadpan, "Gee, thanks," in favor for the offer the wingleader lays on the table. He's giving it some thought since he goes quiet, watching the rest of their group now. "I could," he says finally, considering it. "I don't mind leading the workouts. That is my forte. The class might hate me after a while, though," not that he looks worried by the look on his face. Lys doesn't look worried either, in fact: "Good, let them hate you for a while. It'll take focus off of me." That's even delivered brightly. "And it'll do us both good to study." There's a pause and then a smile that decidedly seems impish. "I don't suppose you'd like to be my official 'show up on time' enforcer, would you? I mean, sure, some of the girls will sleep in just to get you to have to come drag them out of bed, but--" She's probably kidding about this. Probably. "Now you're pushing it," T'gar tells her in an open tease before he laughs and adds, "Well I can be persuaded. What else do I have to do other than studying? Plus I think this would please Asaroth. He pushes worse than any of you wingleaders. You like being a wingleader, though?" "I don't think I fit the knot," Lys answers, without having to put a lot of thought into the response. "But I do like it. I like silver threads. I didn't think I'd like that either. Do you? I can never tell when we're in class." Possibly because classes are hit or miss riveting or dull. "I'd appreciate your help at any rate. Quinlys said I should learn to delegate. Give people who are good at things those tasks and it'll be less on me and we'll still all succeed. I like being a team more than I thought I would too. Having friends and all that." Friends like T'gar says a briefly embarrassed glance in his direction. "I disagree," Rat says on the knot not fitting Lys. "I think it fits you fine. Maybe you're one of those do well under pressure. I don't mind helping. What you want just happens to match with what I want to do." He flashes a smile at her before a hand goes to his chest on what she says about friends - or even, that she would include him in that category. "Look at you," he says, dropping the hand as he straightens up. "A far cry from the Lys I met on the cliff all those months ago. Having friends do make the time go by here much faster." He nods to his bronze, who moves towards them as he collects up a washing bucket. "A lifemate too, even. Who knew so many people could put up with me?" Lys responds wryly, but the humor is a defense for getting too emotional. "Do me a favor and don't tell people what I asked you about. This is complicated enough without involving-- well, I imagine they'd take bets." That's given an unhappy look. "Thanks, T'gar." That last seems genuine enough, but then she's pushing away from the wall to go attend to her own lifemate, sweetness betrayed in the way she touches her and inquires after the soreness and strains of the day. She's totally a softie. No one tell! "I'm don't kiss and tell," T'gar answers on telling anyone, a hand going to his heart again. "Take care, Lys." Then he watches her reach Evyth before he turns to Asaroth and commence with his bath for the day. |
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