Logs:The Most Important Scarf Ever
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| RL Date: 19 June, 2015 |
| Who: C'ris, K'zin, Yesia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'zin makes mistakes with his cherry-popping mating flights lecture. Yesia would be happier with a different variety of cherry popping. C'ris rescues the damsel in distress~ |
| Where: Puddle-Keeper Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 15, Month 1, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Edyis/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Many thanks to C'ris for the timely cameo! Quinlys, please don't fire K'zin. |
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>---< Puddle-Keeper Weyr, High Reaches Weyr >--------------------------------< Perhaps that depression was intended as a couch, because there's no room for a dragon within, the passage narrowing immediately to human-sized only. It's angled for protection from the elements, though, meaning that however wet or cold the dragon outside may get, it's always sheltered and relatively warm within. The interior is impressive: high ceilings, shelves carved straight into the stone, ornate glow-holders ready to be filled to light the room. There's even some leftover furniture, all of it in excellent condition: a large desk, a comfortable, well-padded armchair, a bed two or three times the size of a weyrling's cot. Yesia's lucky to have a weyr sheltered from the cold, because today is bitterly so, and bright to boot. The ledge is clear of snow, and Aeaeth is sprawled there, soaking in the little warmth from the sun and the way the light refracts from the dunes on the ground. The narrow aperture meant to allow human admission to the interior is shuttered with a thick blanket that's been tacked up, a temporary solution to the sharp bite of the air that leaks through, and inside, Yesia has settled, curled in the armchair with a mug of something steaming between her hands. Every now and then, she gives a glance to the makeshift curtain. Expectantly. K'zin is already in trouble, certainly, with someone, for coming to do this here. Perhaps K'zin just likes to walk on the wild side with exotic locales for his intimate chats. No doubt, his real motivation was to make Yesia most at home, and where better than her own home? Rasavyth's oozy charm tickles the boundary of Aeaeth's mind in incoming warning rather than for permission since they are expected. His delivery is neat and his rider dressed in his (now somewhat worn) custom riding leathers. After a nod to the green, he's peeling off gloves to tuck into already doffed helmet-and-goggles when he arrives at the entrance, calling, "Permission to enter?" to the greenrider presumably within. Aeaeth doesn't move but to lift her head; she doesn't have to, really. The ledge is large enough for a safe landing without, and she warbles a warm greeting. Yesia stirs at once, setting her mug away and padding to the makeshift door. "Granted!" the greenrider says cheerily, pulling the curtain aside to usher him in. "Hurry, it's cold," she tuts at him, "I don't want to lose the heat. How I got one without a fireplace..." A sigh, but she'll trust him to pin it closed, and in doing makes her way to her chair again, where she curls her legs beneath her. "There's klah," she gestures to the desk, where an extra mug and a kettle rest. "If you want." Rasavyth doesn't linger; this means the walk of shame will involve a steep drop (but sometimes that's for the best?), unless he's feeling generous. K'zin ducks through, observing the makeshift curtain. "Do you want a real-- thing?" There's probably a technical term for that, but the gesture suffices to indicate something that hangs the curtain. "I could put in a rod for you," is offered without much thought into the statement. He follows her in after pinning it closed, without much pause though. "Thanks," of the klah, helping himself to a cup before finding a place to settle nearby. "So." So. "Mating flights," already there's color in his cheeks, but at least he's getting down to business from the start, no foreplay apparent. Perhaps it's a mistake, but if it is, it's hardly the biggest one he's made tonight. "Where should I start?" "Oh, could you?" Yesia asks, biting her lip and turning around in the chair slightly, enough to rest her chin on the back and regard the curtain with a frown. "You could come whenever. It was just a quick fix. Better than nothing." She watches him, then, taking her own mug back in hand and curling her fingers around it again, for the warmth it offers. The interior isn't that cold, all things considered; save a small draft, it's actually pretty cozy, probably because neighbors on either side have their own fireplaces stoked, leaking heat through the walls. "So." She echoes, after he's settled. "Mating flights." His question gives her pause, a perplexed little smile on her face. So adorable, when he blushes. She shrugs. "I don't know. From the beginning? Ease into it." She's hold-bred, after all. It seems K'zin was under-prepared for this particular answer, and his face says so, just before he coughs. "Okay. You... know about the avians and the vtols when it comes to our own anatomy?" It's not the most delicate way to ask, but still... well, all things considered. "I mean, you don't need to be embarrassed if you don't," he adds it quickly, "I was a virgin when I Impressed and had a book from the healers that was... really not helpful." He frowns, seeming to realize (just maybe) that they're not off to a great start here. "Greens rise three to four times a turn," he tries as a beginning, perhaps too late. Yesia is very intent over the rim of her mug. When she sips, it's probably to hide an amused smile, but when she brings the mug back down there's no residual humour curving her lips. She shakes her head, mouth pursing a little. "No, I've never heard about the avians and the vtols," she admits, not the slightest bit embarassed by the sound of it, but that seems secondary, since he's carrying on. "What book? Why wasn't it helpful? Was the information wrong?" His attempt at a new beginning? Acknowledged with a small nod. "After her first. When should that be?" K'zin's dusky cheeks color a deeper shade. "The 'Helpful Healer's Guide to Mating,'" he relates because it's the easiest thing he has to say right now. With a deep breath, he tries to start at a new beginning, "Sometime after her first turn - though a very few take to the skies before weyrlinghood is over. Some are later, even, but... it just depends. It's all very personal to the green." He takes a deep breath. "When she rises, it's because she's feeling the instinct to mate. When she mates," here's the really awkward part, "You will too." Beat. "Most likely, with whomever is the rider of the male she mates with, whether male or female, whether old or young, whether your best friend or worst enemy." He lets that sink in. Yesia tries to hold her laughter, she really does. But the name of the book sets her off, and she puts her mug down on the nearby table to cover her mouth, shaking her head. "How was it not helpful then? Were the pictures wrong?" She's assuming there are pictures. If he's expecting she'll be disturbed by the mating part, he's mistaken. She's been here long enough, it seems, to be desensitized to that. Even so, she stops to consider. "How will I know? She looks at all the male dragons, already. She even likes Akluseth." Gross. "There were no pictures," K'zin returns, and perhaps the problem with the guide becomes obvious. "And nothing about foreplay, at all. Not that you need that for flights," he notes, not looking at the younger woman. He's probably relieved to not find her blushing and swooning at the mere mention of tool "A"-Slot "B" action. "When she nears to to rising, she'll start exhibiting signs of proddiness. Proddiness comes in all kinds. For some, it's difficult to tell because it's close to their usual demeanor. For others, there are changes. When she gets very close, she'll start to glow a little. Watch for unusual changes in behavior or mood. Some of them sleep more before rising. If you get enough notice, you should take care not to leave the Weyr close to her rising. Don't be surprised if your wingleader grounds you until it's over." It's only responsible wingleading says his tone. "Oh. Well. I don't want that book, then," decides Yesia immediately, which might be alarming. She adjusts in her seat, leaning forward, forearms on her thighs. It puts her closer to him than she was moments ago, because for all the weyr is large and vaulted, the furniture doesn't quite have strategic placement, and is mostly bunched near the desk and plush chair. "Okay," she says, looking at him very closely. "So she glows. And then she rises, and she flies all over and everyone chases her." It's a good summation, a glossing over. "What's it feel like?" K'zin clears his throat, again. It's evidently a little froggy. This time, he takes a sip of his klah, too, before answering. "Like lust. I suppose, for some, it mgiht be more, but... lust, for me. I've heard some greenriders describe it as a need for freedom, or for flight, or for a dance. It's not really the sort of thing that's easy to describe until you've felt it." But here is the poor sap still trying. "Do you need more?" Klah, presumably, as Yesia tilts her head to indicate his his mug. She moves a few inches, enough to suggest she's either going to change seats or go fetch that kettle. "I'm sorry. It's a little dusty in here. I think it's been pretty neglected. I should probably take care of that soon." The weyr, presumably. She looks very earnest, very interested in what he has to say. "What if - theoretically - I don't want to...erm...mate. With the person who catches her? Can't I just...handle...things? Myself?" "In the moment, you'll want to. Mate." Awkward. "I think-- maybe I shouldn't." The klah, he's not been doing any more brilliantly since starting to drink his own. K'zin shifts, "There are cases," he goes on, uncomfortably, "where if you can keep yourself from the chasers, that you have to work something else out. Either whoever's around, or..." Well. He shrugs. "I wouldn't recommend it though. And most of the time, it's not a big deal, unless you make it one. Some people even go for additional-- rounds. After." Of course he'd think to say this. His blush is deep. "Quinlys is going to fire me, isn't she." It's not really a question to Yesia. "Has any of this been helpful at all?" "Not if it's with someone I don't like." There's a suspicious look cast for the ledge, for her dragon, who is silent on the other side of the curtain. The silence of private conversation follows, very briefly, and then a small huff that shows Yesia doesn't like the outcome, though she doesn't share. "Does Rasavyth chase greens?" An innocuous tone accompanies the question, not even a little hopeful. She looks a little surprised by his question, her mouth making a small 'o'. "Why would she fire you? This has been very helpful. I think. I just...guess I'll know when it happens, like everything else. Right? And you'll be around to help, for a while, at least." "He does," is offhanded, the bronzerider not offering much more in the way of explanation about his dragon's tastes. "She'll-- nevermind. Two bottles of whiskey ought to do it if she drinks the first one before I tell her." There's something wry there in K'zin's tone, but then he's looking to Yesia with a sympathetic smile and nod. "If you haven't been with anyone before, I'd recommend seriously thinking of trying it before Aeaeth rises. Both genders. Better not to be fumbling through things when your need is greater than your sense." This recommendation seems sincere and appropriately lacking in self-interest, so there's that much going for this talk. Yesia files his answer away for later, however distracted the delivery. She's quiet while he susses through the best way to break whatever news he has to Quinlys, because frankly, she doesn't see the problem. She's so innocent. Look at those big eyes. That clueless, naive expression. "Oh," she says, stopping to think about his suggestion. She brings her thumb to her mouth, biting on the nail as she considers, and then -- uh oh -- up her eyes come to consider him. Prolonged eye contact is always a little uncomfortable, and Yesia might be looking straight through him for most of it, until, coyly, "Would you be interested?" For a bronzerider who claims to have very little brain, it was awfully clever of K'zin to have put in place a subtle code with C'ris should a scenario like this occur, one that would seem innocuous to an uncooperative bronze who almost certainly would've left his rider there until he did bed the weyrling and get them fired. When Yesia starts staring at him, something in K'zin senses the danger and he fidgets uncomfortably (it could just be the whole creepy staring bit she has down). It's when she speaks that the secret signal is benignly delivered by the unsuspecting bronze. Now K'zin only needs to hold out long enough for C'ris to save the damsel-- er, bronzer in distress. "That's--" What is that, K'zin? "It's a-- I'm sure any guy would be honored-- would want to--" He'll get a whole sentence out someday, surely. For now, drinking the klah seems to be a good idea. If she didn't lace it with something. As K'zin speaks - insofar as it's speaking, because he's developed the most unattractive stutter - the naivete that was the foundation of Yesia's expression slowly yields to incredulity. One eyebrow goes up, her head tilts a bit, and she nods almost in rhythm with his words, some suggestion of encouragement. Then it's a little pity. She gets it, or she thinks she does. Presently, she's on her feet, and she's sliding carefully onto a seat beside him, hip to hip. She reaches out to take his mug, and set it on the table. "I won't tell," she says, the best secret ever. "I promise. It's just helping me, right? And," and she's leaning over now, and to get away he's going to have to pull some action-man maneuvers, "it would be fun. You could teach me. I'm a fast learner. I'll prove it." There are few places to go when she leans forward to try and kiss him. It isn't Mivength who gives C'ris a ride up, who wanted nothing to do with this either apparently, but rather one of the dragons on elevator duty. It takes some time for him to arrive in a less-than-gallant rescue, arriving out of breath as if he ust ran across the bowl and then some. As he peeks his head in to the weyr and catches sight of Yesia and K'zin kissing (or perhaps just seeming to from his angle), his first thought to blurt out is, "Hey, uh, I think I might have left a scarf here. When I was doing tours." A month ago. And he just hasn't stopped by since. But then his gaze goes to K'zin, even as he scrubs at fluffy hair, before adding in question to him specifically, "You haven't seen it, have you?" K'zin's action man moves are sadly lacking. If he's very lucky, no one will talk about how little bronzerider cred he will have after having to be broscued from a slender, attractive redhead currently pinning him to his seat. He doesn't look like he's about to go silently into that kiss, meek and mild, but neither does he seem willing to manhandle the greenrider either. Especially not given recent topics of conversation. He does lift his hands to try to grasp her shoulders to hold her just enough back to beg mercy with a gentle, "Yesia," when who should arrive?! The best bro any bro could have in this exact moment of time. Then, K'zin is all but letting Yesia slide (fall?) to the floor in his eagerness to get up, "Yes," scarves are very exciting. "Only not here. I saw it somewhere though. I'd better help you find it. Right now. This moment." Please. He's looking to the greenrider, "Someone else will finish this with you. Later." Not now. Now he has to find a scarf, and he's willing to put his hands on C'ris' shoulders and steer him back toward the ledge if it helps them get there and gone any faster. With five more seconds, she's certain she could...cajole K'zin into it, but Aeaeth didn't warn her about C'ris, so she pulls away abruptly at the sound of another voice in the room, impressed at first with how well K'zin can throw his voice. She's less impressed with how quickly the bronzerider wriggles away from her, leaving her to slip ungracefully forward and prop herself on one arm, and more importantly she's unimpressed with his dashing away. She exhales slowly, with admirable control, as she straightens herself. "Okay," she says, sounding unenthused. And sounding scathing, adds, "Thanks so much for your help." All that to their backs, as the curtain swings closed and wingbeats carry them off. |
Comments
Edyis (01:59, 20 June 2015 (EDT)) said...
Big bad bronzer being rescued from an attractive red hed... Yes K'zin just lost all his bronzerider points, but at least Quinlys might let you keep your job?
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