Logs:This Sucks
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| RL Date: 6 April, 2014 |
| Who: K'zin, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Telavi comes by; things are good. K'zin gets a haircut; things are okay. Then things go awry; things are not okay. |
| Where: Guest Weyr, Telgar Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 6, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: A'rist/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, T'volt/Mentions, U'by/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. Once again, attempts at fluff go horribly awry. |
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| Getting K'zin settled with some sort of occupation to take up the time not spent tending to Rasavyth took a little doing. The Smiths didn't want him because he's a rider. The Headwoman could give him chores but thought surely he'd be happier (and less of a headache to her) doing something with dragons. Persistence paid off with the WLM staff. Though, as a foreign rider, he couldn't act in any official capacity, K'zin managed to convince the Weyrlingmaster of the merits of an extra set of eyes and hands as well as the opportunity to show a 'Reaches bronzerider how to do riding right. In the days before he was to be brought on, he'd asked Tela to visit. He'd wanted to pick her brain since his mentoring of the bronze weyrlings at 'Reaches had gone largely poorly, and he didn't want to tarnish the Weyr's reputation, especially while he was a guest. But they hadn't quite gotten around to it last night, what with all the clothes that needed to come off and the neat bedding that needed to be rumpled. K'zin rose early and left a note on the pillow saying he'd be back with breakfast. K'zin bears a tray with two stacked and covered plates, a pitcher and glasses. Everything a pair of riders need for a nice relaxing breakfast It's so well-planned, what with the note and all; if only Telavi had woken up to read it instead of staying burrowed deep beneath the covers where she'd gone when that cold draft replaced her K'zin-furnace. Not only that, but somewhere along the line-- just how long had he been gone, anyway?-- she'd gotten to hugging his pillow, the quilt rucked up like a hood just enough to allow some air. Still, she must have drifted up into a lighter doze by the time, somewhere out of consciousness, noises registered. Movement. Her lashes start to lift, and then when blinking doesn't do it alone, she has to brush longer blonde strands out of the way, and that's when the reptile part of her brain must register the backlit silhouette. A silhouette that is not the same. There's a sharp squeaky-squawky noise, only it turns out to not be all from Tela, because a couple firelizards are flapping up from where they had been stealing warmth and then disappearing mid-air and all Telavi can say is-- when the rest of her brain starts to catch up and realize, when words tumble out, exclaimed in dismay-- "Your hair!" K'zin, poised with piece of toast half-way shoved into his mouth, twists around to blink owlishly at the greenrider. Apparently, he was going to let sleeping Telas lie (as is only prudent). His hair? Oh, does she mean the fact that before he left it was to his mid-neck and just shy of runnertail length and now it's not even two fingers at it's longest point? Bite. Chew. Swallow. Assess the dismay. Say something good, K'zin! "Um. Yeah?" Good job. "What happened?" That's not any less dismayed. Did he have to trade his hair for a meal?! And if so, who would actually make that trade?!! K'zin's eyes shift quickly around the room just in case they've gained an audience waiting to laugh when he says something stupid since he left. Nope? Still just them? Alright then. His eyes focus back on the greenrider. "I... had it... cut?" Is this the right answer or the stupid one? He sneaks a peek at the remainder of his piece of toast there in his hand. How serious is this? If it's really serious, surely eating more of his toast at a time like this will only get him into trouble. If she's kidding, then... no harm, right? And he is hungry... He risks it. Bite. How often does Telavi forestall a hungry K'zin from eating, really? It's not even as though it necessarily keeps him from talking. "Why?" This is more on the plaintive end of the spectrum. She's sat up by now, covers fallen as she finger-combs her own hair back away from her face. Maybe there's a law of conservation of hair and when hers is allowed to go, his has to be cut. That would make sense, wouldn't it? Swallow. Cough. Note to self: the chew step is important. K'zin coughs so much he has to grip the back of a chair, the toast dropped and drinks from the pitcher to help clear his throat before he's trying to find her with his eyes. "I start working with the weyrlings in a couple days." As if that should explain everything. She leans forward as that coughing deepens, even starts to stand, when-- oh. Telavi winds her own considerably-longer hair about her hand, unthinkingly protective, as she drops back to kneeling. "That soon." A yawn starts to escape before she can stick that hand in front of it; afterwards, "Come here," comes with a curving wiggle of her fingers. Over here! He can even bring the pitcher if he's scared. Or the chair. The chair would certainly give him the advantage of maintaining distance. But Tela's wiggling fingers might as well be a siren's song. She's not wearing enough clothes for him to resist them. So unarmed, he meanders toward her, like a lamb to the slaughter. He even will settle himself onto the edge of the bed, kicking off the leather flip flops that are surely not temperature appropriate footwear. Telavi gives him a radiant smile for it, too, if one that's still sleepy around the edges: good K'zin. K'zin, who didn't pick the toast up off the floor and eat it, this time. With that, she sits up enough to run her hands through what's left of his hair, seeing what the close crop feels like on him-- it's been a long time!-- all the way down to the furry bristles at his nape which have to get petted, too. "Hmm." It's provisional appreciation. Or maybe not so provisional, depending on if she really has to double-check or just wants to. This time. Probably only because he was confused and a little scared by what he didn't understand. And, from past experience, he does know how she Hates That (at least if he's planning to kiss her). K'zin remains relatively still, though his eyes slide shut, the better to enjoy the sensation of her fingers through his hair. There are certainly some things in life, perhaps even one or two pertaining to K'zin's activities other than with toast, that Telavi is just as happy to not officially know about. Knowing is important. Officially knowing is sometimes another story. Her hands are knowing in a different way, even as she's rediscovering him: taking the time to slide her fingers through what's left of his hair, to graze his scalp with her nails in the ways she's learned he likes; she murmurs into the small space they share, "I love you, you know." It's so quiet, as though they otherwise might be overheard. "They're lucky to have you, helping." "Mm," the noise is distracted, but he leans a little toward her, letting his eyes open in a way that while not sleepy is certainly relaxed. "I love you too," that's why he didn't eat the toast before kissing her. Though he doesn't say it often, sometimes it's the right kind of moment to say it again. And not saying it frequently doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. He leans then to kiss her, gently. Is his kiss different not that his hair is? Is it received in the same way? "Maybe. Hopefully I do better with this than I did with A'rist." That didn't go well. Telavi keeps quite the collection of K'zin-kisses: the gentle kisses, the hungry-and-not-necessarily-for-toast kisses, the late-night sleepy kisses, the morning-breath kisses. This one is greeted and returned with open eyes, softer than she might like others to see, and perhaps it's the same and perhaps it's close akin; she stays close too, continuing to pad her fingertips through his hair as he talks. "A'rist would be difficult for anyone," she says, or maybe she means A'rist-and-Lythronath, and aren't they the same thing? "And there can be only one of them," which might answer that. "Maybe it will be easier with a little... distance." "Maybe. I'm just hoping I don't stuff my foot in my mouth and keep it there until I leave. Quinlys'll flog me if I make them think her training is anything less than awesome." K'zin gives Tela 'and you know it' look. Nevermind that once having had a crush on Quinlys, K'zin might enjoy... well, the world will never know for sure. "Shirtless, and in the middle of the Bowl," Tela agrees rather fondly; let it not be said that Quinlys doesn't have good taste in such things to go along with her temper. "I think you'll do fine, but worrying about that... I get that too. It sounds harder, doing it that way, instead of gravitating from pleasing one boss to going back and doing, sort of, more of the same. With Q, I knew what I was getting into, more or less, we both did. What sort of a sense do you get of him?" "Oh, it's Q now, is it?" Even if K'zin has no confirmation that Tela's relationship with Quinlys is anything but professional, a man's imagination will run wild. And he frowns. Because it just wouldn't be right if he wasn't hypocritically jealous of any lover Telavi might take. Even though he has one that she shelling well worked with while he was out of commission. Even though he's certainly had others besides even the two of them. The silence that follows is brooding, and the closeness becomes less. All the job talk, and he focuses on that-- "It is," Telavi says, and leans in to kiss one corner of that frown before leaning back on her knees, a touch of her fingers letting loose hair fall over one shoulder and not the other. "Why, don't you like it?" Or maybe, since it's pretty obvious, that's more like 'Why don't you like it?' K'zin's arms move to fold across his chest. "Not so much, no." Because clearly, he's the only one in Telavi's life that should have nicknames. It might be a failure on Telavi's part that she finds the flex of those biceps so entrancing. When she drags her gaze up to his again-- at least it doesn't take long-- it's to ask with wide, ingenuous eyes and a voice to match, "But why?" "Because you had dragon sex with her." K'zin answers, which is true enough. "And she's attractive and not old," which matters, "So you're probably sleeping with her, and who could blame you?" He shuts up, grinds his teeth. Who, but him. Aaaand Telavi blushes at just the wrong part, which is to say the arguably truthful part, though at least she bites her lip before she can clarify how many times count as current. Or comment on his cute grinding teeth. "I thought you didn't care about girls," she does say. Winsomely. "I care when they're not just 'girls.' When they're repeated," which she can't argue Quinlys isn't, given Solith's affection for Olveraeth. Ugh. K'zin broods. "Oh." Telavi looks at him through her lashes, though for once more like a veil and less like flirtation's fan. "Good. I like that you care. A lot." Except for the part where she isn't exactly volunteering to skip on repeats. Which doesn't mean she doesn't inquire, "What if I did this--" here she folds her arms in an elaborately uplifting sort of way, though at least she doesn't stick out her lower lip, "about your not-just-whatevers?" Just so they're clear. Or 'clear.' K'zin eyes her from the corner of his eyes. Then he rolls his eyes and flops back on the bed, keeping his arms crossed. "Then you'd be doing that." Duh. Which is really a total non-answer, but apparently that doesn't bother K'zin in the least. Telavi doesn't comment on his cute flopping-with-arms-crossed shtick either, though she does have quite the indulgent smile. "I guess I would," she agrees, perhaps a touch too cheerfully for those four words alone. "Really... I'd like it if you'd try to not turn up with any more not-just-whatevers," apparently she's found some slight degree of rapprochement with that man over the past months, and also apparently she's scooted back on the bed enough that she can lean down further and interpose words such as, "At least," with nibbles as long as he's stretched out like that. Above his knee, say. "As long," traveling up his thigh, "as they," inner thigh, "are inclined," higher, "to eat," that was not a nibble, "more of," neither was that, "your time." But that really was. Well, that is distracting. K'zin's arms have to move now because he can't see what's happening as he looks down the length of his body. "Yeah? And how many do you have?" The question is out before he really has time to assess if he wants to know. "Repeaters, I mean." That didn't come out as 'wait, no, nevermind.' Oh well. It seems that Telavi intends to continue with distracting, and a painstaking progression it is, too. "'Mmm,'" evidently counts as a word or two, spacing-wise, and a lingering word at that: all the better to push the hem of his shirt up with. "Let's see," she continues, "would you," and so on, "say that," and so forth, "you've wanted," also not a nibble, "visiting," this one is, but then she has to let the hem fall because it just won't go up higher unless he's helping, "and actually said so," same with that except for the middle which may resemble a raspberry just a little bit, "and I've," higher, "been busy," time to undo a button, "with that sort," and another, "of thing? Because," apparently he doesn't get a pause and neither does the last button, "if not..." he gets a kiss. K'zin is not helping. He sees this distraction for what it is (not that he doesn't like it, of course). "That doesn't answer the question." Bronzeriders are known for persisting in quests of stupidity, right? "Mmm." Again. Pensive blue-green eyes regard him, soulfully, but this time from significantly closer. There was kissing, not so very long ago. Why can't there be more kissing? And Telavi still hasn't had breakfast. Stubborn K'zin is Stubborn. Those soulful eyes do nothing to break his resolve to be an idiot. "I don't know?" Telavi offers. That's an answer! Maybe she just can't count past two! "How can you not know?!" That was a little louder than he intended and he pushes himself up on his elbows. "I know. How can you not?" He pushes himself up on his elbows, and she slides down while his arms are occupied, quick to head for the table even if it is cold out there; she leans over it like she's looking for what food hasn't fallen. "You really want to list everyone you've gotten it on with twice? You want me to?" "No," That would be silly, implies the tone. "Just everyone you're still getting it or intending to get it on with more than once." Apparently, Sulky K'zin, who is rolling onto his side so his back is to her as she departs for the table, is willing to forgive those that are over and done. Such a Kind Sulky K'zin, what with the forgiving and all. There's a listening noise, so she did hear, followed by chewing noises that are substantially quieter but audible if one listens for them. Eventually-- and what's taking so long, anyway, is she counting? or really just eating?-- "What do you think I should be doing when you're," how should Telavi put this, "'busy'?" The longer the silence goes on, the more Sulky K'zin curls himself into a ball on the bed. "I'm not busy more than once every fortnight when I'm at home. You make it sound like I'm always away or gone for days at a time," granted, now here, it's months at a time. And does he sound a little whiney about the whole thing? Yeah. Maybe the cute of the balling will help balance the annoying the childish protestations. "Because you've--" There's the muffled tap of Telavi's setting down the re-emptied glass, followed by some rustling, and then she's sitting behind him in one of his shirts and starting to rub his back. "...Been," she says more quietly. Apparently, K'zin won't be comforted because he hunches away from her touch. He hunches away; she stops, taking a pained breath and then another, and only then can she crane to look over his back and to try and see his face. "K'zin...?" No, no face seeing. He buries his in his quilt. It only stays that way for a moment, because then he's pushing himself up and scooting to the edge of the bed. K'zin's face can be seen now whether he wants it to be or not and Sulky K'zin has transformed into Growly K'zin, frowning and scrunching his nose up. All of a sudden, Telavi probably really misses Sulky K'zin. Growly K'zin pushes himself up, Trying-not-to-be-Frustrated Tela pushes out a sigh, but at least she doesn't start huddling under the quilt or anything, not even because-- for now-- they're still sitting on it. She side-eyes him. "It's not like I'm looking for someone else to keep around. I don't want anyone else." Especially if they're Grumpy. "Isn't that exactly the ones we're talking about? The ones you do keep around or at least the ones you keep going back to? That you don't want to tell me about?" The last isn't really a question in its own right. Growly K'zin makes no such valiant efforts and could also be called Frustrated K'zin. "It's not like--" This time it's less a sighed-out breath and more of an expulsion because her hair is in her face and she wipes it away one-handed but it keeps clinging. "'Keep going back to' sounds so... so settled. Only like vtols getting into left-out fruit, when you say it like that." It's hard for hands to talk when they're caught up with hair, and Telavi needs the extra processing power. "Nothing's regular, it's not like you and him, it's that sometimes it's nice to have fun with someone who's not completely new, okay? Someone I can trust not to turn out to be skeevy, just fun for a little while and then done." Not okay, says Growly K'zin's face. Rather than respond directly to the defense, he simply says in a tone that manages to hold reproach, "I haven't slept with any other women since I told you how I felt." A really long time ago. "There's been just him, and then just once this other guy after a flight. And that's it. Except for flights." Not that those count. "And I've never even had seconds after a flight." Brown, soulful eyes stare, rather accusingly, at her. So not fair, says Definitely Frustrated Telavi's face. Especially given the soulful eyes that she seems to have more difficulty with than he had, and that's not fair either. Skipping over flights entirely, she gives him another long look... and then lowers her head to gaze at her now-folded hands for an equally long moment before glancing up through her lashes. And she starts out sounding so contrite to match, too; "So you'd be happy if I only also slept with oh, say... Quinlys?" She gives it a little pause. "...Again and again and again, and then we could cuddle up in bed and talk about our days and kiss and then do it some more?" "Maybe," then irrationally, "It's different," it's not. "I don't know." Suddenly K'zin is up on his feet and pacing and frowning. Just what the shards does he want anyway? "Maybe I just need to start fucking more people." A bemused rumble from the ledge probably means both agreement and encouragement for this idea. Telavi, so not enthused. She pulls her bare legs up to sit cross-legged, neatly tucking the hem of his shirt in place like a really, really short skirt, and doesn't dignify that last with more than a look ledgeward. "How is it different?" she wonders, genuinely, of K'zin. Enlighten her! The pacing pauses. For a moment, Growly K'zin looks like he might metamorphosize yet again, and this time to Full-Blown-Tantrum K'zin. Only as he glares at her the anger wave crests and sends Growly K'zin rolling down the emotional slope to Defeated K'zin. "Ugh." That's the answer she gets before he spins and moves the few steps to the long pair of low steps that raise the bed section of this particular guest weyr up just a smidge from the rest of the room and sits, elbows on knees, chin in hands, his back to her. He may be defeated, but it's not like Tela's counting this as victory; she shifts at last out of the stillness of withstanding his glare, flattening her hair behind her ears, color just beginning to reenter her face from where it had gone so increasingly pale. She doesn't say, don't look at me like that; she doesn't say she's sorry; she certainly doesn't go to touch him, not again. She does watch his body language, very carefully. If things don't change for a while, especially if it looks like it'll be a while longer, she'll say quietly, "When we're with each other more," not 'when it's the way it was,' and really, will it be now that he's had a taste of Telgar? "I imagine it'll be different." "This sucks." It's muffled a bit, so his hands must be covering some or all of his mouth. Then they drop away, elbows losing their perch on his knees. "Maybe I'll just transfer to stupid Telgar." The voice isn't angry enough to be Full-Blown-Tantrum K'zin, but his whining doesn't sound happy. If he hadn't had her attention before, he'd have it now. "Stupid, stupid Telgar," Telavi agrees with that much, and her voice isn't happy either. There's a rustle that leads to her feet dangling just above the floor, but no greater sound that suggests she's actually gotten up from the mattress, nor footsteps; that might have something to do with how she's twisting her toes around each other. "It doesn't deserve you. And you'd be gone. I don't like that. It's been practically forever already, and--" "Somewhere else then." If Telgar doesn't deserve him. Then, "It's not like I planned this. Not like I wanted to be stranded here for months." K'zin doesn't specify what isn't fair, but the tone of his voice says something sure as shells isn't. Instead of continuing, Telavi breathes out slowly, silently. Then footsteps, soft footsteps, approach. That stone looks cold; he keeps running when she touches him. So-- if he hasn't given her some sign not to-- she sits next to K'zin on that cold, cold stone but doesn't quite touch, her feet only on the next-lower step, her hands cupped over her raised knees as though that could keep them staying put. "You didn't plan it," she says. "It's not your fault." And, "It isn't fair." Any of it, implies her own muted voice. "I guess this is the trade." K'zin sighs, resigned, arms folded across his knees now. "You stick with me through how I was after, and I get to think about how many not one-and-doners you got with while I was out of commission. Sharding good thing we never weyrmated." The last is practically a growl. He gets to think about: that's when Tela looks suddenly sideways, starting to speak, something about-- but it doesn't matter, because he keeps on and, "What?! Where do you even--" and she's twisted up on one knee so she can not only stare at him but do it at something of a height. "For your information," her hands opening and closing because she has nothing to throw and if she did she might hurt him, even if he just-- "There weren't that many, it's not like I was entertaining the wings, and there couldn't have been even if I wanted because do you know why? Because I was exhausted and grungy and worried and-- and-- I keep my promises!" Really, it's a good thing her eyes can't literally shoot flame. K'zin probably doesn't realize that's his foot he's choking on until she's twisting and looking at him and-- Oops. Maybe it will gratify Telavi that K'zin cringes a little and leans back away from her such is her sudden force of presence. Suddenly Meek K'zin is meek. "Sorry..." Telavi does not like cringing, not in U'by, not in K'zin-- which absolutely does not stop her from pivoting fully around to take up that space. All but facing him, her hand goes up to his chest, pressing, but she can't seem to decide whether to poke him or push him back or just lean on him to get into his face more. "And! You can't transfer," well, he can, "because when I walk down those tunnels," their tunnels, "I see something move out of the corner of my eye and I think it's you and it's not you and it should be you and you're not in the baths either--" and is he still leaning back? Because that right there wants to be a poke that turns into a push that turns into a lean that turns into a look. Even if he wasn't leaning back so much anymore, the poke and the push and the lean and the look have him doing so until he has to put an arm back behind him to keep from sliding down the stairs. Still, he says nothing, just looks at her with slightly widened eyes. Is it fear? Something else? Maybe he's just stuck thinking about their tunnels. Maybe he'll have better luck not sliding down the stairs-- accidentally, anyway-- if Tela plants a knee between his thighs before bracing herself on his chest. Her brows go up, and she demands, "Well?" No, there is no sliding. No slinking. No shying away because she's right there. On top of him, practically. So K'zin does the only logical thing that solves all the problems at once: he moves to kiss her. Kissing means no talking, means no sliding, means no more bad-to-worse. Right? It's a cure all! He hopes. No. No no no no no. He has it all wrong. She's kissing him. Nor has Tela forgotten, if that sharp nip to his lip is any indication. Oh, woe. Poor K'zin. Kissed by the woman who was not quite yelling at him a moment ago. What ever shall he do? Take her to bed, of course! Or is that be taken? Yes. Telavi and K'zin, proponents of surviving emotional issues via distracting kissing-and-things for nearly three Turns now. At least no foot gets into anyone's mouth now... until next time. |
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