Logs:Time To Go Home
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| RL Date: 23 April, 2015 |
| Who: Drex, Itsy, Raum |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, High Reaches Hold |
| Type: Log |
| What: No more missed messages; it's time for the sailors to go. |
| Where: Corridor, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 25, Month 7, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Devaki/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated! |
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| It's the afternoon of the hatching, and the living caverns are filled with the noises of joyful celebration of both High Reaches' weyrfolk, and the many visitors that have come to watch the hatching. Not everyone is at the feast, though -- one familiar, glowering figure skulks in the hallway, waiting. Raum's managed to find a spot where he doesn't stand out too much, even with his red hair, although the fact that he's here, and not either at the feast or rushing to be somewhere else is somewhat of an indication of odd deeds; he gives a leering grin to women that pass, and a narrow-eyed stare to the men. Itsy's not really one for big parties at the best of times, and it's worse when one's benefactor is there-- in an official presence-- and one is somewhat pissy with him to begin with. In fact, she didn't even make it to the hatching itself (though no doubt she's heard something of the results); instead, she moves against the crowd, not into the Weyr but out of it: out of it and away, hat slung low over her eyes. The moment she sees Raum, though, she begins sidling towards him; him, she's apparently not avoiding. Raum's trademark smirk is quickly apparent, taking in Itsy with a top-to-bottom inspection, though he says nothing until she gets close. Then: "The fuck you do to your hair, girl?" "Anything to keep men like you off me," is glib, and said with the kind of faint amusement that speaks to long-association and, yes, even fondness. Itsy looks up, tilting her head back so that she can get a look at Raum. She waits, then; half-expectant, half-unreadable. The red head grunts, like he's lost interest already. He takes a step closer to Itsy, and pauses; his gaze flickers past her, narrows, then shifts back to Itsy as he eases back against the wall. "We've been waiting for you. He wants to head out to the Island." Further up the hallway, Drex lurks, keeping his distance -- his distaste for Raum apparent and obvious -- but watchful nonetheless. This bothers Itsy, who doesn't quite manage to keep her voice down. "You've been waiting for me? What about me? Fuck, Raum. Been waiting for my ship longer'n'a'turn. Been waiting and where is it?" The line of her shoulders is tight; Drex will be able to see that, whether or not he can hear what she says (and, let's face it, he probably can). "It's been waiting for you." There might -- no, definitely is a smirk; the Guard Captain of High Reaches Hold is enjoying this. Leering, for a moment, Raum leans forward again, this time using the gesture to cover pressing a small, rolled hide into Itsy's hand. It reads: Your ship waits for you, as do I. We will be setting sail as soon as you and what's left of your crew arrive. Use my name if you require a ride dragonback. I look forward to seeing you soon. -D After a beat, Raum asks, "Wanna know where I found it?" "What. The. Fuck." Itsy stares at the bit of hide, reading it once, twice, and then maybe even a third time before she can positively turn her attention back up towards Raum; she scowls. "Where'd you find it? Fuck." The look of panic in her expression makes it seem, for a moment, as though she's afraid they've lost their chance. Smirking at her expression, the Other says: "Tucked under the mattress of one of your so-called sailors." It is, perhaps, pure coincidence that Raum's gaze flickers in Drex's direction. Itsy's, "I'll kill him is sure," but also, it's probably fair to say, without any intention of follow-through. "When do we leave? Now? We're ready." She's ready. If she's noticed that glance towards Drex, she's ignoring it; certainly, it's clear she doesn't believe the implication. "I know you'll take care of it. I taught you." Raum says, with a grin. If he's disappointed that Itsy doesn't react to his glance to Drex, it's only brief. "Like as not we'll leave tonight, if we can find a rider sober enough to take us. He," being Devaki, probably, "Has people to catch up with. Get yours ready. He won't wait any longer." He pushes away from the wall, but his gaze is still focused on Itsy. The stubborn jut of Itsy's chin is probably as much confirmation as Raum is going to get; it's plain that her attention is already caught by the future: by her ship. "It's about damn time," is what she says, those blue-green eyes fixed back on Raum for a moment, those red-tinted brows raised. Is he done? "Place's a hell-hole." Drex waits until the Guard Captain fully retreats before he advances, scowling at the back of the man for a moment, before his quizzical gaze lands on Itsy, a hint of anticipation, and... hope, in his gaze, unvoiced. It's only as she turns to focus on Drex that Itsy allows herself this: a triumphant grin, just short of menacing in its ferocity. "We leave tonight," she says, glee audible in her tone. "Get the men ready. Drex-- we've got our ship!" There's a moment of stillness where all Drex does is huff out a breath, and then... he grabs for Itsy with the intention of lifting her off the ground into a joyful bear hug. Fuck decorum, "We have our fucking ship!" he exhorts. If Itsy had had a moment's doubt of Drex's mind in this-- of Raum's implication, however subtle, of any hesitation to leave this new life-- it has clearly been banished, now, in the wake of reaction. She lets out a whoop of glee as she's picked up, arms wrapped tight about the other sailor's shoulders. "We're going home!" "Home!" Drex agrees, actually grinning, finally setting Itsy down. "If we're leaving tonight, we gotta pry the others away from the drinks, now," and that has him already moving, thinking ahead, taking three steps before he stops, pauses, and looks back. "Fari--" with an obvious moment of vacillation. Ah. That vacillation has some of the glee fading from Itsy's expression, one arm going to her hip; her head cocked. Well? "She's busy, ain't she? You can write. She's got her thing; you've got yours." Dragons obviously being 'things.' "Yeah," Drex concedes, though not without a visible deflating. "She's... busy," is agreed, with a squaring of shoulders. "I'll do a circuit of the caverns, meet you back here in an hour? You can give 'em the good news," he starts walking again, though he's not out of earshot before he adds, "Cap'n." Whatever sympathy Itsy might feel, it is buried deep beneath her own jubilation and focus; it's not her fault Drex got himself all attached! "Good man," she calls after him, all but dancing in place before she turns to head the other way: things to do, places to be. Home! |
Comments
Alida (20:11, 24 April 2015 (EDT)) said...
Hoooo man! They've just become veeeery interesting, again! :D
Farideh (21:34, 24 April 2015 (EDT)) said...
=*(
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