Logs:To blow cover or to not blow cover, that is the question.
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| RL Date: 2 July, 2013 |
| Who: K'zin, Sabella, Ghislaith, Rasavyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: The weyrlings run into each in an unsuspected place. Old hurts are mended, minor plotting begins. |
| Where: Seaside Hold Tavern, Southern Continent |
| When: Day 17, Month 2, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Hot, but not humid. |
| Mentions: E'sren/Mentions, I'kris/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Seani/Mentions, Telavi/Mentions, N'hax/Mentions, C'wlin/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions |
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| Seaside Hold Tavern, Southern Continent(#1636R) On the tip of the Southern Peninsula sits a tiny fishing hold. While the population isn't exactly large, their dockside activity is bustling. There are a number of small taverns that sit along it, catering to sailors and traders. Some of the more run down establishments tend to a rougher crowd. This particular building isn't great but it's not the worst of the lot. The floor is dirty and the lights are dim, but only one out of every 3rd person looks as if they might steal all our marks. Poker is played nightly, drinks are freely flowing and the women- well. You know.
It might be winter up north, but that doesn't mean it's cold down south. In fact it's hot, but somehow not humid. The docks of the little hold are packed out with people. Some are sailors and others are residents of the area, mingling with the transient crowd in the night. Lanterns swaying in the breeze provide some ambient lighting to the darkened streets, illuminating a crowd of men as they stumble out of one of the bars. It's not quite a fight, more a scuffle. Within the bar once a person has passed the brawlers is the dimly lit inside of the tavern, a hub of social activity. Sabella is inside this one tonight, sans her weyrling gear. She'd been talking to an older man at one of the tables, but that conversation seems to be at an end. Looking somewhat disappointed she ends up at the bar counter, ordering a drink and claiming a spot.
Sabella's drink isn't anything special, it's just a mug of ale that's slid across the counter towards her from the older, burly bartender. It's the conversation she's starting up with him that has her almost miss the arrival of K'zin in his undercover clothes. "I came here to visit my cousin, help her out. She just had a baby." The greenrider explains to some question, smiling innocenty at the man. "And after the day I had with her and her family, I need a drink." Pulling the aforementioned towards herself, she stills briefly when the bronzerider's question reaches her ears and she actually registers him. Covering up the lapse, she throws her arms around him and squeals, "Gordo! It's been such a long time! What are you doing here?" No, really. What are you doing here!? "Gordo." It's murmured disapprovingly in Sabella's ear when she hugs him, his arms going around the greenrider and by the time that the hug is done there's a grin on his face. "I came to visit my new cousin, of course, and catch up with the family, see what's changed since I was here last." The convincingly bright smile from K'zin is offered to both greenrider and bartender as he asks for the same as Sabella's having. "How's the squalling 'brat?" Despite the choice of words, the tone is all too affectionate. The bartender looks dubiously between young woman and young man who apparently goes by 'Gordo' in these parts. He goes to get K'zin's drink, largely staying out of their conversation. After all, this place is busy and there are other customers to talk to. "Look at that, me too. The squalling brat is a squalling brat, as soon as she's settled in I'll be on the first boat of out of here." When the burly man has gone some distance from them and the people around seem suitable occupied, "What are you doing here? Why are you dressed like that?" She asks him, dropping her voice and keeping an eye to their nearby companions.
"What can I say, I'm the maternal sort." Sabella chimes in with a bright round of laughter. "I'm no one." He glances down at her clothes and she does the same, they're not the same as at the Weyr, no. They're not riding leathers or anything that would really identify her as anything at all. In fact well, most people would probably forget having seen her at all that's how indistinguished she appears. "Answering questions with more questions isn't clever, it's obnoxious." She points out, before flashing another broad smile and commenting loudly, "I know, right? It must be the same thing that has them care about a man's clothes. Which, by the way, when was the last time your woman mended yours? She could use some lessons." As an aside, "I didn't blow your cover, anyway. I could have." It has the tone of 'lets play nice' laced into it. "As it happens, you did." K'zin contradicts softly, a glance sweeping beyond Sabella around the patrons. "I wasn't Gordo earlier today. So I won't be staying." The ale is taken as it arrives, a grateful smile to the barkeep and the appropriate marks tendered for his, and, "I'll pay for my cousin's drink too. I guess it's about time I go see the 'brat. Best time to visit a babe is when they're sleeping." The bartender seems to have no interest in K'zin's continued prattle for he moves on to serve another. The look K'zin briefly gives the greenrider lacks the usual warmth, but not particularly cold, just distant. "Assumptions blow a cover as easily as intention. Maybe next time, if you don't assign me an identity when you don't know if I have one or not, I'll stick around to answer your questions." Obnoxious as the question for a question thing might be, leaving without giving any must be worse, mustn't it? His ale is lifted, chugging down the contents, just one more sign that that further obnoxiousness is to shortly follow. "As it happens it only blew your cover because you don't know what you're doing." Sabella rolls her eyes, "Because it would be so difficult to explain away as a nickname. But do go on with the dramatics, they suit you. Improvision obviously doesn't." When he continues to 'prattle' on, the greenrider simply laughs and slips off of the stool. And since he doesn't want to play nice, well she doesn't have to either. If she appears phased in any way by his lack of engagement, it doesn't show on her face. Instead, she slips off of her seat and slides her marks across the counter. If he plans on staying there to be obnoxious he's going to have to do it without her, because she's going outside. It got hot in here. Or perhaps this would be better, K'zin dressed as a maid. Or maybe this, K'zin wearing the clothes of a potatoe farmer. The almost-pleasent-but-not-quite silver laughter of Ghislaith's wafts through the breeze. Channeling a few amusing images of the bronze's lifemate towards him. Because he must be around somewhere. (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith) "Because I'm so ever going to say that I was chubby as a child," Has Sabella met K'zin? There are some lines one simply cannot cross in life. Muscularly-vain K'zin won't even put a toe near that one. His tone is a touch childish as is the roll of his eyes that he can't seem to help. "And maybe I'd've told you what I was doing or that I was coming if we were anything resembling friends anymore," He points out just before Sabs steps away, "So nice of you to show me the way," He adds for the benefit of-- well, let's face it. No one cares, but he says it as he follows her toward the door. Somewhere, to be sure. It's hard to pinpoint exactly where though. There is a sense of nearness and also a sense being stationary, so he's not winging through the night sky somewhere. The bronze's mind accepts the images, the amusement he shows at them somehow guarded, as though he were only permitting Ghislaith a peek at the whole picture through reflections of slanted windows. In return, through cracks in the panes, he offers in return: Sabella the seaside wench, Sabella the tar-footed sailor. (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth) "Oh- You are ridiculous." Sabella turns on him as she's walking out the door. "It's my fault because you can't lie and say you were fat as a child? That's the problem with you." No one important is going to overhear them at this point, not with the crowds and all the noise. She escapes out onto the porch, somehow managing it even though she's backwards stepping. "You didn't have to approach me. You could have stayed away, you came up to me. I didn't blow anything for you, I was minding my own business." By now she's shredded any attempt at hiding anything since it seems moot. "By the way there isn't anything here. This isn't the first I've come here." She's amused, it's true. It comes through in the extra tinkling of that silver against itself. But then there's a sense of nothing, of empty blank space. Ghislaith shows him something there in that blankness that's more than any image of her rider ras a barwench or sailor. And meanwhile she too is somewhere out there, someplace dark and quiet that she's disappeared into. A monster hidden from peering eyes. (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith) "Well, ma'am," And she's really lucky that he's smart enough not to say 'Wingleader' here, "To tell you the truth, I didn't even notice you until I was right there. Then what. You recognize me and I act like I don't know you? I figured at that point there was nothing for it but to play along with your story." K'zin has followed, of course, "What do you mean there isn't anything here?" There's a touch of confusion as he steps toward the stairs that lead down onto make-shift boardwalk that exists between establishments and docks. It has him pausing, looking back at the greenrider. "What were you thinking would be here?" "And what did you think I was going to do when you plopped yourself next to me and said hello? I had to cover for staring at you, it would be clear to anyone that I recognized you. You're being impossibly difficult tonight, I don't know what your problem is." She's down the stairs as well, stepping around him when he asks his questions. "I mean that there's nothing here, nothing that's remotely useful anyway." When he asks his clarifying question, Sabs flicks her fingers in the air. "You wanted to go run off after them when Quinlys showed up. You're here for the same thing I am, to find them." "Yeah, you're right. I am." It's delivered too quickly, too simply. The fight or whatever this is is forfeited too easily for it to be truth. A too convenient lie. "Anyway, since there's nothing here, and you however unintentionally blew my cover, and you want nothing to do with me anyway," Which might, in fact, be the answer to what K'zin's problem is, "I'll just be going." His hands seek pockets that don't exist and settle, fumblingly for hooking into the rope belt as he twists to start walking in -- well, no, not that direction. He takes about three steps before, with an intense blush, he's turning on his heel to go the opposite way, back past where the greenrider was. The greenrider crosses her arms over her chest as one eyebrow arches upwards, skeptical at what's apparently not quite the truth. Whatever it is. And she won't comment on how she totally didn't blow his cover again for the umpteenth time this conversation. She presses her lips into a line as he fumbles and turns red, then walks away. Then walks backwards again. Sabs stares up at the sky and sighs at length, putting one hand out to grab his arm when he goes to pass her. "Nothing is every just easy with you. Why are you so damn complicated?" Naturally she can't stop him if he wants to get out of there.
Curiosity coaxes Rasavyth to peek through his oozy reflection of blinds over the windows, then ooze slithers closer. The nothing. What is it? What is its purpose? Is it a Ras-trap? He exercises caution. (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth) "Oh, for fucks sake." Her exasperation is evident at least. All I ever wanted was to stop re-hashing the same things over and over. It wasn't about being right or wrong, it was about wanting space." Sabella lets go of his arm to cross hers again, shaking her head. "I don't remember what you're talking about now, that's how long ago it was. And you have never asked a single thing about me either, so don't even. I'm not as complicated as you'd like to think I am." She takes a breath and chews on her lip. "And I don't want to re-hash those things now. I thought for one second back there that it wouldn't be like this. That it'd be fine, but I was wrong." The nothingness shimmers, but not with intent. It's Ghislaith's own puzzlement that leaks through, a flaw in the game. A sigh of her own brief confusion, « This doesn't seem like you. » The silence perhaps or maybe what seems to be over caution to her. (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith) K'zin's eyes blink as she speaks, shaking his head. "No re-hashing. You can have all the space you want. As ever, Sabella, you can have whatever you want." This last is delivered with a touch of bitterness. "It'll be better this way anyway." This is softer, more to himself than to the greenrider. Then he turns back the direction he was going and starts walking, shoulders hunched forward, frustration evident in his expression. Shimmer for shimmer, the ooze twinkles at the puzzlement. « Nevertheless, it is me. » It's delivered in a strange simpleness from a mind that always displays itself in so many complex layers. (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth) The nothingness vanishes with wisps of smokes, floating away into the night sky. The house emerges again, faint in the distance as she's far away just now. « Just remember who cares for you best. » When he's finished with, well, whatever this lack of complexity is, whatever keeps him from playing games with her tonight. (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith) "Please stop act-" Sabella shakes her head about to say more before she catches herself, taking a breath. "If that's how you feel then I'm very sorry." But she won't try and stop him from leaving again if he's so determined to do so. She's already done that once tonight. The whirl is sudden. K'zin gets about two feet, so his voice can still be a conversational volume as he bites, "Stop acting like what, Sabella? Acting like aside from my fuck ups all I've done is try to do what you wanted me to do? That all I've done is try to protect you? Do you really not see it?" The feeling of an arched brow prefaces his question, « Am I only to be cared for when I am exactly as one expects? » What about rainy days? What about off days? Can it be truly called caring if those days find him alone. (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth) "You're acting like someone holding a grudge because things didn't go the way you wanted them to a long time ago." Sabella isn't overly emotional, she's not yelling or trying to argue with him. There's the faint hint of regret in her voice as she switches from looking at that distant spot to watching him. "I never needed you to protect me and I didn't ask for it." That's spoken low as she bites down onto her lip pulls in another steadying breath. Patience. She's as aloof as she's ever been, nothing has changed in regards to her. « No. Why do you ask questions you know the answer to? » Ghislaith wonders curiously, the curtains fluttering in a cool breeze. « I expected you would require space, if that's not the case... » The boards groan as if in a shrug, she was only attempting to anticipate his mood. Sorry for the error in judgement. (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith)
This answer of his green sister sparks even greater curiosity, so ooze comes trickling up to her gate, forming an oozy man to lean there. « Why would I require space? » This isn't a question Rasavyth knows the answer to, at least. It's one he might have some guesses about, but cannot know her mind in this without her answering. (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth) "I'm friendly because I'm being friendly." Sabs sighs and lifts her shoulders. "I don't know what else to say. I tried to just roll with it tonight that you were here." Her eyes wander once again to his clothes, to his overly patched pants. Quietly and maybe just a touch (a touch) timidly, "I- I would have helped you pick out better clothes for whatever reason you're here. You don't want to fit in. You want to disappear. The way you're dressed someone would give you an even worse nickname than Gordo." There's a brief pause before adds, "We might as well start somewhere. Unless you really think it would be better." The door beyond the gate, it creaks slowly open. There's a handkerchief. It flutters in that cold breeze down to the wrought iron bars, sneaking through. It's for the slimy man, she doesn't want that stuff all over the place. Priorities. « Perhaps you do not want me to see you not at your best. It is not an unusual want. » (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith) There's a long pause as K'zin's expression shows his indecision; an internal struggling. "Do you want me to not protect you?" He asks quietly then, as though this were a critical missing element to his ability to make this choice. "It would be better for you if we weren't friends. Your boyfriend would definitely like it better. He has this weird thing about when I make you cry." It's an attempt at a joke, but comes off sounding a little flat, "But I'm selfish. Sometimes. And I do the wrong thing sometimes. And I make people cry sometimes. And I'd rather us be friends, even if it's not better." The ooze-man bursts into its component pieces of little spidery bugs, shimmering their otherwise invisible existence and the bugs hurry toward the door; not an invasion, a felinically playful attempt to get the handkerchief!! « You are my favorite. » A pause. « You may see me when I am best and when I am not. If you wish. » It is not an allowance he would make for all, but for her? There's that dangerous soft spot. (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth) "By all means if you see someone coming up on me with a knife in their hand from behind, stop them. But ordinarily no, I don't really need you to protect me." Sabella lets her arms loosen finally, some smidgen of tension beginning to ease away. "Yes, well. He'll understand that it's my decision to choose my friends." Even if he probably won't like it very much when he finds out. Such is life. "You and everyone else, K'zin. Me too." The greenrider sighs and wanders to the steps of the tavern, sitting down on the lowest one. She throws her elbows onto her knees. "So lets be friends again? You're not as much fun to tease when you borderline hate me." Even in that, she's poking a little fun again, complete some small slip of a smile. Oh, it's the spiders again. Others may be disturbed by them but Ghislaith is unconcerned, she teases the handkerchief around before allowing them to have at it. « I know. » Oh, so she's a little smug in the security of their friendship. The door remains open, offering a peek at the inside. It's damn near cheery looking inside, not the dreary gray space one would imagine. « You can stay. If you wish. » It's the best offer she can return to him, being what it is. And it's not nothing. (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith) K'zin sighs. This time, though, the sigh is fluttery and clearly a fabricated thing. "I might've been borderline about you a lot, but it was never a borderline of hate. Insanity, frustration, just plain don't get it, all those borders, but not hate. Why do you girls have to be so sharding confusing anyway? With your pretty hair and your smelling good and stuff?" His baritone has definitely taken on a teasing quality of its own. "Not to mention that you ask me to be friends right after insulting my clothing. You're just lucky it's Ras who picked them out and not me, or I could never consent to saying yes with my dignity intact." K'zin has dignity. ... Obviously, it's a joke. "You want to get out of here? Maybe go to a bar where we can get our stories straight ahead of time?" The handkerchief, apparently, only holds interest for the spiders which climb the doorframe, the door, dangle of off the knob and ceiling, and try every which way to wrest it from Ghislaith's control, as long as they haven't won it over. Once it's lifeless, so, too, are they, stopping abruptly to look around instead, a little directionlessly. But then there's the invitation, and the bugs are taking her up on it, drawing Rasavyth's consciousness to her doorstep and then to peek within. As he crosses the threshold, bugs building back into the ooze-man, he admits softly. « I made a mistake, Ghislaith. » (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth) Laughing, "I think that you've had way too much free time if you were able to visit all of those borders." Sabs jokes as she allows some more of that tension to slip away, watching him with a wry smile. "I just wanted you to walk back into our friendship with your eyes wide open. I certainly didn't get any nicer while we were apart." She glances up and over her shoulder at the busy tavern behind her, leaning out of the way of a drunk coming down the steps. "We can go there only if you promise to not lie to me about what you're looking for. Then it's a deal." Her opinion on his free time earns her a wry grin of his own. Then, "No? I heard love-" And boy does K'zin ever make that word sound sappy, "-makes women all sweet and soft and stuff." It's delivered with a laugh, but likely only half a joke; what does K'zin know of love? Only what the rumors and Harper Tales say. "As long as that honesty is a two way street, I can make that promise." He agrees, adding his own condition, starting to walk, though slowly, "Is she this way? He's somewhere out there," A nod toward a spot of darkness in the distance. It is cheery within, even if there's some cracks in the paint and some scuff marks on the floor. The place looks well worn, lived-in. Her voice remains raspy even here but there's something more comfortable about it, she's safe here. « We all make mistakes. Have you done something that can never be corrected? » (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith) "Does it now? I think you've been talking to all of the wrong women." She drags herself up from the steps of the tavern, falling into step next to him. "She isn't. But she knows how to find me." Sabella sounds confident in her dragon's ability to see in the dark, maybe it's practice. She slips her hands into the front pockets of her pants. "Of course, I'll tell you what little I heard. Not that it's a lot." But maybe it's something, could be. To Ghislaith, Rasavyth's ooze-man spawns more little bugs, that build themselves into an older-styled run-down looking but decidedly comfortable chair for him to settle into in her foyer. « I do not know. » There's genuine pensiveness and concern in his tone. « We will try to correct it. But... it has changed things forever. I do not know if it is a good change. » "Oh yeah? Well, I'll have to get right on talking to the right ones, then." K'zin answers with a laugh, "Although, have you heard? I'm apparently a bit of a whore now. I'm sort of amazed at how rumors take on a life of their own. Maybe it's the same way with what I've heard about love." The bronzerider keeps his pace moving but fairly easy. "I'm here for more than one reason." He starts, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes, "One of them for practice fitting in. Looking like I belong somewhere." A pause, "But I would like it if you'd show me about being unmemorable." A rocking chair materializes from practically nowhere, slowly moving back and forth as if someone was sitting on it. « Change is what you're willing to make of it. Reconcile your past with the future ahead of you. You have already admitted to a mistake, that's where it begins. » The movement slows as if thoughtful, « Your bond with him in unbreakable. » (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith) "You are?" Sabella asks, using what sounds almost like genuine surprise. "When did you start charging for your services? ...Did you make Telavi pay? Please tell me you did. Even if it's a lie, a dirty awful lie." Just so that she can tease her about it. "I just heard you were kind of a slut." She nudges her elbow into his ribs playfully. "It's helpful to fit in sometimes, but I've found that's only so great if you plan on being somewhere for awhile. If you're just dropping into a place you're almost better off being as boring as possible. So yeah, unmemorable." "Oh, don't you know? I make everyone pay. Pay by enduring my company. Telavi's no exception." K'zin jokes, but then he's blushing. "Er, well, she was. I-- we-- haven't... In a while." He reaches up to rub the back of his neck, decidedly embarrassed. "Has she said anything to you? About-- I mean, I've been busy. And things weren't going so great and--" And it can be surmised that K'zin did something stupid again by keeping so busy. "Some of the places I go, fitting in's what I want. Some of them," A nod to their surroundings as they start to leave the hold behind and head into the vegetation, "Not so much." "You are the worst business person. I'm not sure that I can allow people to know that we're friends if you're giving it out for free, basically." Sabella sighs with excess, oh-so-disappointed. As far as Telavi and him go, she clears her throat a little reluctantly. "If I told you the truth about that, I'd have to kill you and leave you here. There are rules about these sorts of things." So in short, yes. She knows something at the very least. "What are you doing running around all over Pern? I hope you're getting better compensation for that than the other things you're not charging for." « We know. » It comes slowly, thoughtfully. « But an unbreakable bond can still be weak. And you know how I loathe true weakness. » The appearance of it? That, he embraces. All the better to surprise those who would think of him poorly, but actual weakness? That's no good. « It's like I've wasted nearly a turn with him. To be suddenly back as though I had made a different choice on the night of the hatching. » There's a sensation of recent refreshing on that particular memory, as though it's not something he actively remembers, but more like something he read up on recently. (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth) "How much would I charge for something like that? Would women actually pay, do you think? I mean, if I am a slut anyway..." What's the difference, K'zin's tone implies, and now it might be hard to tell if he's joking or not. "Alright. I won't ask again then. Wouldn't want you to have to kill me and leave my body for whatever--" He trails off and gulps. He pauses abruptly to gulp again. He looks a little like he's going to be sick, but a few moments later seems to have it under control. "Sorry. The-- bodies. On the ship. Let's not talk about killing me for a while, ok?" Onto other topics! "Will you keep a secret for me?" He knows she can, case in point: Telavi, so the question is will she. She's a silent intent listener, something he can glean but the sudden suspension of the usual creaks and groans across the house. « What is weak does not always have to be so. In fact, weakness allows for you to see things before you might not have noticed. Places to become stronger, to build upon. » Ghislaith does not remember the moment of impression very well, if at all. It's quite vague for her. « Look for the opportunity, nothing is ever a waste. » (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith) "Whores get paid, sluts don't." Sabella clarifies, just for his personal information. "And no, I'm not sure that women would actually pay. So I think you might be stuck with your lot in life." She lifts her shoulder in a sort of apology for that, quick smile though. "Big jungle felines? Bugs? A healer-gone-rogue that wants to perform experimental surgery on people but the Hall won't let him so he steals corpses and just happens to find yours?" Breathe. Oh and then K'zin is looking physically ill. "Oh! I'm sorry, are you okay? I mean, I guess I forget that-" What, other people are a little more sensitive than her? When he doesn't look as if he's about to start throwing up, "No problem. No more dead K'zin jokes. Promise." As for secrets, "Sure, I'm good for it." To Ghislaith, Rasavyth's focuses is all here, too. It's evidenced in the way all of his bugs are woven together to be the armchair and the ooze-man and how not even a single invisible spider is exploring the house that's been opened to him. « You raise excellent points, my dear Ghislaith. » They're not points he wasn't aware of, but somehow hearing her say them, hearing just how she phrases them helps him to recognize them better, to internalize them. Then softly, « I did not mean to hurt him. And I did. So deeply, Ghislaith. » There is shame in this and the ooze starts to melt from form into a puddle. A mocking gesture of disappointment comes in the form of snapped fingers and a pouty lower lip. But then he has to battle the memory of the bloating corpses, as brought back by the mention of his own body becoming lifeless. It's a hard-won battle to keep down his last meal and that ale he had at the bar, but K'zin manages, despite the excess of awful things that might happen to his corpse after Sabella kills him and leaves his body in the jungle, as narrated by the would-be-murderess. There's a thin smile that is gratitude for her laying off those particular jokes. "I was trying to learn about-- well, the things that got High Reaches to where it's at now. And part of that's about Seani. That murdered girl that Lord Devaki was suspected of killing all those turns ago? Only some people don't want me to know about some things, I guess, because the records are sealed. And that just-- well, it seems wrong, doesn't it? For a murder to go unsolved and for people to keep secrets about it turns later?" There's no other reaction that she can have, Sabella winces and glances away as K'zin gets it under control. She's not exactly the touchy-feely sort, so he's on his own insofar as not throwing up all over the docks. "Sorry about that, I just- Well." The girl loves a good-bad joke with her conversations. "That's not surprising, there's no one up high that ever wants the general population to know what they're up to." She doesn't sound surprised, slipping into silence while he further explains. "I don't know that I'm the best person to argue the moral nature of secrets. But I do like getting into them, they're valuable. Why don't you just steal the record?" Case in point, moral nature not necessarily top-notch here. "You said they're sealed, so they exist. I'm surprised they didn't burn them." Oh, puddles. The house gets to cleaning them up, a full soft towel soaking up the excess liquid from the floor. But meanwhile the atmosphere is almost comforting, warm but not cloying and there's a flowery scent. « We don't always know what we do. But you know now, you've admitted the mistake. You where you went wrong. He will forgive you, you will be strong again. » A soft breeze whispers across his mind. « All things pass. There is no shame in correcting your own wrongs. » (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith) K'zin makes a gesture to dismiss her apology; he'd rather pretend none of it ever happened, lest he have to fight the battle anew. "I'm--" The bronzerider stops short, physically, and in his speech, staring at the greenrider, "I'm working on that. Only, I've got to do it, and put it back. Otherwise, K'del will know or suspect enough to say where to look. I'm looking into things at Harper Hall and elsewhere. Trying to see, too, if there was any kind of-- I don't know, connection, between the death of Seani and Iolene's. That's why I'm south. Trying to learn about her murderer. Only, you know. It's not so easy. And it's a lot of ground to cover." He reaches up to push a hand through his hair, "You-- wouldn't be of a mind to help, would you? I just. I don't think it's fair to keep things from riders who want to know. Worse, still, to tell them 'you can't know this thing in particular'." The appearance of the puddle-soaking-towel prompts action as the puddle slides first to one side, and then the other, avoiding the dabs of the towel. « Sometimes, we know what we do. We make the best choice we think we have, and we are wrong. » He is wrong. Was wrong. Wrong. It feels so wrong to be wrong. But he lets himself be comforted by her wisdom and the dripping ceases. (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth) Sabella lifts an eyebrow to regard him when he stops short, slowing her steps. Her expression speaks to the 'what?' that she doesn't verbalize outloud. "The thing is, I seriously doubt that the thing will be under watch all the time. You could probably take it and put it back without anyone realizing. Put a dummy in it's place." So easy says she, anyone can do it. "How often can anyone be going and checking on it?" The greenrider presses her lips together, thoughtful. "I thought I'kris killed Iolene? And the dragons were all fussing a few months back that it was over a 'false queen'. You remember that? I don't know how much Devaki could be involved in that then." She seems to be doubtful on that angle. "Like I said, I'm not exactly concerned with the moral righteousness of it. But I do love a good challenge." "A dummy," K'zin contemplates, "Well, really I only need to get a good look at each page." But there's merit to the idea regardless so he rolls it over in his head. "Iolene was killed by I'kris, yeah. And maybe it was because he found out about what she did, but she was an Exile too. Two murders that close together? I mean, maybe it's nothing but... I wonder why he did it. And, of course, he's not around to ask." What with the suicide and all. He shrugs his shoulders. "I don't think the records at Harper are sealed. There, it's just a matter of getting someone who knows what they're looking for. Or the autopsy record copies at Healer. And there's -- Sabs, you're good at being friendly with girls, right?" K'zin's walking again as he talks, edging ever nearer to a safe space where their dragon can arrive and go unseen by the locals. "And you're going to spend your time in the room where it's stored reading it? I don't know if that's what I'd do." Sabella well, it's clear. She'd take the whole damn thing, have her way with it and then put it back where it came from. "Too bad C'wlin is being kept busy with Boreal, he'd probably know his way around the Harper Hall." But then he is busy with them, since him and N'hax were released from their imprisonment in the barracks. "I can be if I were so inclined. Is there someone you want me to go and talk to? Can't you just bat your eyelashes at them?" She asks jokingly. When the puddle begins to fight back, the towel swipes after it with semi-frustration. « Oh you are so annoying... » It's muttered beneath her 'breath' as she tries to clean. The wooden boards creak. « It's alright to be wrong. No one is infallible. As much as you'd like to be. » (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith) "I don't need to read it." K'zin bites his lower lip, "Just see it." At this point, he knows there's no escaping some kind of explanation, "Rasavyth has a way of recalling memories really vividly, freezing them and being able to take them in better. It helps for things like Silver Thread lessons, and my drawings and stuff. But, if you're more keen on that part of things than doing other kinds of stuff, you can take that as your personal challenge." No skin off his back; save his hide from being in the fire, potentially. "I haven't tried, yet. I don't know what her persuasion is. I guess seeing if can get her in bed is one way to do it." Apparently, the 'whore' hadn't thought of that. "Okay well-" Sabella lifts an eyebrow upwards, as if she might just be skeptical of that. But she can only take such things at face value. "Regardless, I'd recommend you actually read things for yourself first. It sounds like a useful trick but you should rely on your brain as much his." It's gentle encouragement, obviously she can't control what he does with his own mind. But moving along now, "I'll think about it. I made some promises that I have to keep." As for the other thing that he wants her try her hand at, "Who is she?" "Akadri. She saved K'del's kid's life by making a big deal about him not going with Seani to the weyr that day." K'zin answers simply. "But all that's only one reason I'm here. The other has to with the wreck." He chooses his words carefully lest there suddenly be need to find a convenient bush. "There was a note on one of the bodies. I thought it might help sort out who they were. What they were doing there. All that. So what did you hear?" Even as he asks, they seem to have reached the spot, the rustle of wings as Rasavyth comes to a landing some paces away, his eyes glowing in the dim starlight. Amusement laces through the tenor purr that sounds a little more familiar to their usual interactions, « If I knew what towels were afraid of, I'd have the puddle just transform itself into that. As is... » The puddle just keeps evading as the ooze man stands and the invisible ooze of the shimmering chair folds itself back into the man from whence they came. Then the puddle's looking to get past the towel to the ooze man, too, testing the possible routes. (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth) The dark form of her dragon wings down from the sky, the lengthy and narrow green landing delicately nearby. She did find them afterall. "You want me to find out if she knew not to go there or if it was a coincidence." Sabella surmises, looking past her fellow weyrling to their lifemate's landing in the darkness. "I found a letter on one of them, it was from his lover. It took me a few days but I managed to find her. I... She wasn't very helpful, but then she was very upset. If you want to see her I have to go with you. I may have engaged in some creative storytelling to make the truth less painful." She blows a piece of hair out of her face. "I'll probably go back in a few days to check up on her, she might be better then. But in the meantime, the man had a tattoo on his wrist. So I've been trying to find out if it meant anything, if anyone was familiar with it. No such luck tonight at least." « Towels fear nothing. » This one in particular strikes out at the puddle as it's trying to get away. « Your puddle will have to remain as is. » Ghislaith watches it suspiciously, but she hardly seems to be really annoyed by his teasing. It's par for the course and she's much more used to his version of him than when mopes around. (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith) "Pretty much." K'zin confirms with a nod. "If you talk with her and you think me waggling my manbits at her would loosen her tongue better, let me know and I'll see what she looks like." A man on a mission but not without standards, evidently, though there's humor in his tone. There are nods for the information about the woman, "The note I found was similar. From a woman named Teiranne. Is that-- Same woman?" Regardless, he adds, "I'd like to come with you. When you see her again. And-- that tattoo, was it- a shipfish? With like... evil eyes?" « So sweet of you to want to keep a part of me in you. » Rasavyth must be feeling better if he's breaking out the bawdy jokes. Maybe Ghislaith-towels fear absorbing some part of Rasavyth-puddles. Perhaps it's a test to find out. (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth) "I hope you don't refer to them as your 'manbits' when you're with women. But then again maybe that's why you and Tela fell off?" It's definitely supposed to be a joke, another teasing jab as she moves closer to her own dragon. Her hands instinctively going to the riding straps still in place. "It is, you're welcome to come along. Just before we I'll have to fill you in on what happened at the ship." Her version of events anyway. "It was. Seemed distinctive, right?" If it was possible for her to give him some sort of a dirty look right around now, that's what she would be doing. Rasavyth might be her favorite too but he is occasionally borderline annoying. « Oh, you can keep right on thinking that if it makes you feel better. But don't put too much stock into it. » (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith) "Only when I'm with women I'm not trying to sleep with," K'zin answers, hopefully reassuring. But the joke about Telavi falls short of humor for the bronzerider, who looks, once more, uncomfortable, "No. Um. I sort of-- started-- sucking. In the sack." It's too dark to see, but surely there's intense blushing on his part. "Distinctive, yeah, if you mean distinctive in that all the bodies had the same tattoo in the same place." K'zin answers, "Or at least, all the ones I found. What happened on the ship? Or will you tell me over our drinks?" This is asked as he in turn moves to Rasavyth's side. That's exactly what little brothers are for, though. If he weren't sometimes bordering on or crossing over to annoying, Rasavyth wouldn't be doing it right. The puddle makes a final dodge and mad dash to join with the ooze-man's leg and he's meandering toward the door. He can annoy her from outside where she can't have the house collapse on him, or something. (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth) "Well in that case..." Sabella lifts one hand from the straps that she absently checks over and gives a little wave. The part about sucking in bed has her clearing her throat and glancing towards him, not that she can see him in the dark but likely she's able to suspect. "I'm sure that it's not a forever thing." As if there should be some kind of comfort he can derive from that. Of course, she's not healer so her lack of helpful advice probably isn't shocking. "I'll tell you over drinks, it's not a complicated story. It's just- I wouldn't want it ruined for her." The greenrider gives a nod of her head towards her lifemate before beginning to scramble up her side. The door groans shut behind him, all gentle-like. Even if he did try and leave a mess on her floor. (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith) |
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