Logs:Volunteered
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| RL Date: 8 June, 2015 |
| Who: K'zin, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Telavi lets K'zin know she pimped him out to the weyrlings. |
| Where: Artful Artifice Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 10, Month 13, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: T'volt/Mentions, Z'kiel/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Silliness and squish. Back-dated. |
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| It's getting towards late but not quite there yet, and if the weyrlings aren't yet snug in their beds-- those that have them, with their weyrs this new-- even good assistant weyrlingmasters don't have to know or care. The dishes are long-settled in their basket, waiting to go back to the caverns; the table's been wiped down; and Tela's by now abandoned both her hidework and her mending. She's even dozed a little, stretched there on the furs in front of the fire, with the sounds of K'zin painting watercolor in the background. "So..." "Mm?" K'zin turns his head away from the easel that has been occupying space in front of the fire for some sevendays now, along with all the necessary accoutrements for making forays into watercolor painting. "So?" It's simple enough a question, the silent one being if he should set his brush aside for this. If it's that kind of 'so.' "So I wouldn't let Zeke have that weyr, you know, the one with the 'Reaches murals," says the sometime-Bendenite; she's turned her head so she can look up at him now and then, though she's still using one crooked arm for a pillow. She has a little bit of a smile before she says. "Though he liked another one better anyway." Afterward, "Achoo keeps sounding like Ras." "Achoo doesn't sound anything like 'Rasavyth,'" K'zin answers flippantly, perhaps not realizing just what she means, given the confused flex of his forehead. "Why wouldn't you let him take it? He could get a mural done, you know." It's not like Telavi could stop him... could she? "Very funny," and Telavi might be more stern if there weren't that laugh running through her voice. "No, to Solith is what I mean. Ish. But anyway," here she wriggles her toes and her oft-talking fingers, "it sounded at first like he was going to paint over them, you know? Or scrub, which, good luck with that. Only...then it turned into paint-additions-to-them at the last minute, and not hideous death-creatures swooping down to get the 'Reaches, so that was fine. And he does want a mural, I think? On the new place." On duty, Telavi has to be all deliberate and one-thought-at-a-time. Off-duty, here... not always so much. "Hm," K'zin observes with the single syllable, though he frowns for the painting over. "His weyr. He gets to do with it what he likes. I painted over murals," he points out, one hand gesturing to indicate them. Evidently, the bronzerider doesn't share whatever concerns the greenrider might have for the sanctity of art in private abodes. "If it were his weyr," Telavi agrees to that much. "Yours was." And is also different, implies her tone. She contemplates her toes. "Anyway, it gave him ideas about the new place, and you are a Known Murals-Maker," said with all caps, "who knows how to do it right, and really," here she twists to peek up at him, "during the tours I may have mentioned here and there that you're good at these things and hanging things and all sorts of things, so if they look you up, don't be surprised." Someone who's proud of her let's-call-him-a-boyfriend's skills? Say it's not so! K'zin's brush is carefully set down so he can turn in his chair, angling away from the easel. "So let me get this straight," he begins thoughtfully and tellingly slowly. Here it comes, Tela: "You've spent so much time with me now that the weyrlings are getting older and leaving the nest, that you're eager to loan me out, away from you, to do their work for them?" He leans forward now, elbows coming to knees, a mock-shrewd look on his face as he gazes at the greenrider. "And what, pray tell, is your cut for pimping my services?" He's deadpan when he adds, "Or is this the work I'm supposed to do on my night off?" The one that's T'volt's every seven. Wide eyes. Wide green-just-now eyes. Telavi's surely about to say something but she's been derailed, there's that lean and-- she fairly endangers her spine with that tightened twist, a flush rising to her cheeks. "What? No!" And then she's truly blushing, laughing but blushing. "Though when you put it that way-- that's just the point, it was going to be my point, don't make it too easy, all that painting and hammering and-- K'zin." "Your point was going to be what you get out of it?" K'zin queries, still deadpan, though his eyes betray enjoyment for her blush and laughter. She narrows her eyes at him, which is hard. She takes a deep breath, a very deep breath. Except that's not enough, so Tela takes another, and then says primly, "I was going to say that maybe you could..." Time to untwist. She does, and angles to sit up, the better to gesture with one expressive hand. "Be careful not to let them eat-- to get-- all your time and maybe helping with something short is one thing but something long-- something that takes too long-- could be referred to someone else. Who you know. Who you know will do a good job and not take advantage of them," because they're their weyrlings! and must be protected! "and..." where was she going with this? "Mm," K'zin makes the sound sound dubious. "So, you thought you should volunteer me for these things as a test of my ability to not get taken advantage of? Is this some sort of trial to show my priority toward you?" The question comes with a lift of brows at the greenrider. No, she's still not off the hook. And wide eyes again. Only then, inspiration! "No-o," claims Telavi now, that blush still warming her cheeks even as her lashes briefly cast downward towards them; "I secretly wanted to dash their hopes with a maximum of cruelty." "Oh, yes," K'zin says with all due seriousness. (It's a lot.) He weighs the greenrider in his shrewd gaze, "I can see that now, about you. You're quite the sadist." He manages to say it without dimpling even once! "Oh yes," Telavi chirps, far too brightly to be a mirror of his. "And then make them run laps for their... presumptuousness, because everyone hates those." Including them! "I love running laps," K'zin counters, rising from his chair to make an approach of the greenrider that has a predatory fluidity. "And you'd give in at the first sign of getting something better out of the deal," he decides, even as he means to draw her up into his arms, to torment her and test her sadistic resolve with his lips on her throat and... elsewhere. "You do?!" Tela, shocked. So shocked. So very, very shocked. And then-- because he's right, of course he is, isn't he always?-- "I would," Telavi further confesses, hanging her head in a way that's admittedly all the better for gazing up at K'zin through her lashes. If he wishes to draw her up that way, she'll go, for it's time to play thorough penance. |
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