Logs:Tangle
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| RL Date: 22 May, 2015 |
| Who: Nala, M'vyn, Jynth, Elsyth, Cece |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Jynth catches Elsyth. M'vyn tries to put his family back together. |
| Where: Flight Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 19, Month 11, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| OOC Notes: Language. Sex. Angst. |
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| It is nearly mid-morning when Elsyth decides now is the time to seek the feeding grounds and trumpet her challenge to the males nearby. Her glow has been enticing many onlookers over the past few days and surprisingly M'vyn has been calm about the coming flight. He's not outwardly displayed any unusual behavior, those who associate with him the most may have noticed a lightness to his character that is rarely seen. When Elsyth rends her first beast to pieces and hovers over the carcass, her rider makes his way into the guest weyr. It does not take the rest long to follow, a mixed group of men and women, blue, brown and one bronzerider trailing in and settling around the weyr in various places. M'vyn has seated himself on the bed, his shirt suddenly constricting and so he's shucking it off as Elsyth pushes herself off of the ground and heads into the sky with the splatter of blood still marring her otherwise pristinely glowing hide. Perhaps, over time, Elsyth has become just another green, since there's nothing to Jynth but an interest in pursuit - of her, of another; does it matter? If there's anything more to it, it's not something he conveys in any contact with or demands of her, his blooding efficient and purposeful, some distant memory causing him to keep his wings close and out of the way of being scuffed by others. He's interested, and that's all that must count, especially since Nala isn't among those who reach the flight weyr with any kind of punctuality. Given the outcome of the last flight in which her lifemate chased, is it really any surprise? She's one of the last to show up, after Jynth has thrown himself after Elsyth, and, in what is becoming a habit, she lingers as close to the outside world as possible, denying the existence of any other riders who seek the greenrider on the bed. Elsyth's flight upwards is an acrobatic dance amongst the clouds, her traipsing through the nebulas an elegant dance and counterbalance against the pursuit of the males below her. Her smaller frame earns her the ease of movement not afforded to the larger males who pursue her. One brown in particular seems to have the easiest time of keeping up with the green as she leads the pack up, ever up, and then she turns sharply and banks to the left in an attempt to shake that brown altogether. M'vyn may or may not be keeping tabs on those who have wandered into the flight. Where once he was a trapped and panicked creature, now he is languid and agreeable to those who draw themselves closer to the bed. One woman may be familiar to Nala, but when Cece notices the arrival of M'vyn's wife she disentangles herself from the bed and M'vyn's hands to settle in a chair further away. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes return to M'vyn. She's trying, despite the pull of the brown that has a reach for Elsyth. There's only so long that Nala can pretend not to see what she sees, and the unfortunate combination of flightlust and the state of mind that she's been unable to fully escape for too many months now is that she outwardly doesn't appear to give a shard about what Cece and M'vyn have been getting up to. "Go ahead," she calls to the brownrider, in a moment close to clarity, low and burning, "fuck him. As if you need the excuse. Don't be shy." She doesn't move from the wall, full of scorn for the whole situation, or so it would seem, itching to get away. Jynth is possessed of that same scorn, only his is for the others who believe that they can secure Elsyth, and while many follow up, he moves to cut beneath her, until that last moment when he twists to dart and grab. M'yvn's features sharpen with clarity at the sound of Nala's voice and he swings around to narrow in on her. Her scorn is met with an aloof superiority as with a calculating hitch to his gaze he turns and reaches to grab Cece back. In his grab, Jynth's grab connects with Elsyth's body as she is plucked from her plummet to twine around him. She doesn't fight the catch or him. He is male. He suits her purposes. For now. Cece doesn't hesitate to vent her fury with M'yvn's actions and her loss as she twists away from him after landing a resounding slap across his face. She leaves along with everyone else and M'yvn looks to Nala. And waits. "Liar," Nala accuses, whether the thought is hers for M'vyn, or Jynth's for the mere fact that Elsyth doesn't fight him, and as her blue twines tighter with his green, she shoves herself away from the wall and towards the bed, stripping out of her jacket and shirt as she goes, before she reaches without hesitation to press her husband beneath her and prison his wrists against the mattress. What hurt has fought its way past her apathy means she can hardly remember to be gentle or sweet, yet she does seem as intent on his pleasure as her own, even as she makes low-voiced, half-incoherent demands of him. And if she swears he's really hers along the way, well, whose claims is she airing? M'yvn's answer is to laugh, a throaty sound of his pleasure at her accusation and his laughter turns into a challenging grin as he resists her handling of him only enough to add another thrill to her movement. Pinned beneath her, he allows her to take the lead and abandons himself to the flight-lust reverberating from his green. Elsyth isn't apathetic, not entirely, there is enough of her riders wants moving through her to feel pleased with Jynth's body against hers. When they return to the ground she does not flee his side, choosing to rest just close enough to him that he may enjoy his victory. M'yvn does not relinquish his claim of Nala so readily as he moves to his side and grabs her to follow. "Too long," he murmurs against her neck as he presses himself closer to her. "Far too long since we've tangled." Spent, Nala is pliant and lets M'vyn do with her as he wills, though her nails dig into his shoulders as he presses closer, a low growl rising from her throat in answer. "I want..." she starts to say, only to need to breathe for a moment or so more. And how long has it been since she's made demands, besides? "I want a wedding band," she tells him before higher brain functions return, arching against him as she speaks so. "Or a marriage mark." She hums a primal kind of contentment against skin as she ducks her head to touch teeth to his neck. Hormones, or Jynth's influence, or something else entirely, she's not yet retreated into that artful, dark distance. Outside, her blue lifts a wing, some fragments of stolen memories making the action instinctive, offering shelter to Elsyth. M'yvn takes in a sharp breath as her teeth connect and his answer is a possessive rumble, "Oh, I can mark you," he reaches for her and turns, moving to cover her as he takes his teeth to her neck and downwards. That possessiveness of his is far too easy to display, his hands roaming up to grasp a handful of hair as he pulls her head towards his so their lips can connect. He isn't ready for more than touching and teasing, yet it is all his lust and none of Elsyth's that drive him on. Elsyth resettles her wings against her side and twitches her tail against Jynth's side. Tap, tap, tap. Her response is a tired one, no animosity behind her simple refusal. « No. » This is all she will offer and he may choose to remain or go. Her thoughts begin to close as sleep begins to tug her away. There may be no animosity there, but it makes the sting no less real, and what feeling Jynth can maintain draws him to linger only as long as it takes for Elsyth to be fully asleep before he launches himself away from her and up to his ledge, where he can brood in solitude. His upset lends a sharper edge to the whimper of sound that Nala lets out as she arches all the more, one hand curling fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck to lend some direction to his marking of her, no mind paid to what might show later. In the moment before their lips meet, she repeats, "I want a wedding band," and slides a hand down his back, letting nails press as she sinks into his kiss. M'vyn might've said yes - or thought he had - or some form of a promise given towards that ring between the kisses they exchange. Nala could likely have asked for anything and he would agree. With Elsyth gone completely from his mind, M'vyn is finally ready for more and he takes her as he wants to. Even then, he draws it out and makes sure to entice all the right responses from her before he finds his own release in the moment. This time when he finishes, he collapses to the side and throws his arm across his eyes with a groan. "I'm going to be sore," he declares, looking sidelong at her with a knowing smile. "I shouldn't be the only one." It's a bit of lightness offered towards her as he'd rather keep this encounter on the even keel. It may be achievable without the green's presence to distract him from his own thoughts. His hand wanders back towards her to rest on her chest, a causal claim made. "A ring," he agrees in a breath and then asks, "anything else?" With that much of aggression and the desire to control dimmed while he's moved over and marked her, Nala only twines herself around him and doesn't try to shift M'vyn back onto his back and beneath her, letting him take her as he pleases this time. "I can make it better when you hurt, if you like," she murmurs in response, still hazy and satisfied, until he mentions the ring she's demanded and lays his hand where he does. She moves then, rolling to drape herself over him, elbows planted down in the sheets so that she can look down at him, though she spares him little of her weight, distasteful of distance or just wishing to prove a point. "What else would you give me?" she questions softly, stare heavy. M'vyn shifts against her weight, resettling himself against the blanket and whatever pillow can be grabbed and shoved under his neck to give him added support. "Mmm," he drawls, lifting a hand to trace across her jawline and down to rest against her lips. "Pern," he tells her with a sideways smirk, "would be too much of a love song." He drops his hand from her face and moves to rest it down lower, closer to her hips. "I can give you more of this, more often, if you want," he murmurs as he lifts up enough to press a teasing kiss along her lips. He gives her lower lip a tiny nip before he resettles back down and offers her a more languid smile. "I'd rather not go months until Elsyth goes up again to have you in my bed. Or a bed," he clarifies, glancing up at the ceiling of the guest weyr. There's no intent behind it, yet Nala's hips press closer as she arches in response to his nip at her bottom lip, pressing her eyes tight shut as she lets out a soft, appreciative sound in answer. "Two nights." She's said it before, but now she sounds more certain, even if it takes her another attempt to put a proper, clear sentence in order. "I'll stay in your bed for two nights of the seven, if you want me." She shifts her weight, so that she can lift a hand to roam briefly over where she imagines the worst of the bruising will rise on her skin. "I'll stay in your bed until your marks fade, for now," she quietly proposes, watching him carefully for any hint of a response. It could be a fortnight or more before they fade, after all. "You will have to play fair and be... gentle." Until she's a blank canvas again. The hint of his response is clear in the faint smirk that drifts across M'vyn's face as Nala searches for his marks. "I suppose I'll have to be gentle, until you don't want me to be any longer," he warns her, not teasing in the least with that. "Three," he bargains, not in the mood to not try to counter her arrangement. "One night we will have the children watched by the nursery. The other two, we're a family." He reaches for her hips, meaning to settle his hands there and hold her against him. It'll amount to nothing, he's far too tired for more, but it's a familiar enough move of his. A claim. "Do you agree?" Nala tilts her head a little, no clear objection evident in her gaze as he increases the number of nights - not until he adds those stipulations to what those nights will involve. She's still just trying to breathe, which has nothing to do with any lingering need or interest, when he reaches for her hips, and though she closes her eyes and submits to the physical claim without a fight, her figure has taken on all the angles of tension and fear. "...I-I can't," she stammers out, keeping her eyes pressed closed. "She does not remember who I am. I can't." She sounds awfully sure for someone who supposedly hasn't seen either of her children. Many arguments die on M'vyn's lips before he even shows recognition of that tension of Nala's. He loosens his hands on her hips and stifles a sigh as he nods his head. He doesn't move from beneath her, he simply keeps his gaze locked on her face. Searching for a direction to take, M'vyn lets the silence stretch between them. Finally, he attempts another angle, "Two nights. And dinner with the children." It's clear enough that that second component is the one that terrifies her, though it's the loosened grip on her hips that Nala takes as the signal that she's dismissed, and she obediently begins to move away and off of him, the single nod that she provides the only signal that she agrees. She can't talk on the matter, not having failed so spectacularly in recent moments, and continues to retreat in on herself as she acknowledges, "I ruined it," under her breath, as she curls back to move to the end of the bed. Nala can't get away from M'vyn that easily. As she lifts up and moves to the end of the bed, he pushes himself up to follow. It is a matter of breaths before he's closed the space between them and wrapped his arms firmly around her to pull her back against his chest. It's easier that neither of them have to look at the other as he simply holds her. "You didn't," he assures her, pressing his lips against her neck and then her cheek. "Don't go." Nala's token resistance is born of the desire to try and escape and conceal the tears that she doesn't manage to successfully fight back, a sob swallowed down in time to fight the urge possessing her whole body, yet not soon enough to prevent the tears from happening. She lets M'vyn pulls her back against him, and goes limp save for the folding of her arms over his, like she has to secure them there just to stay grounded, or just needs his hold to border on too tight and painful to bring her back. She's quiet as they fold back to the bed, and doesn't seek to leave again - not until they absolutely must. In the time that unfolds between now and then, she's content to sleep, though sometimes she returns to touching lips and teeth to her M'vyn's skin, not to initiate anything, but just to remind herself that he's still there. And she's still there. |
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