Logs:What's The Trouble, Brother?
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 1 June, 2011 |
| Who: Jaques, Khorde |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: At least Jaques isn't an asshole to Khorde. |
| Where: River, Western Island |
| When: Day 27, Month 11, Turn 25 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Emmeline/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, Phedre/Mentions |
  |
| It's late. Most of the exiles have given up and gone to--not bed, but certainly in for the night. But Jaques hasn't. He's out wandering the river banks, hands in his pockets. Yeah, well, there are some assholes too stupid to head "in" for the night. For example, take Khorde, who's stomping down the riverbank in his own personal hissy-fit, muttering under his breath about something-or-another and not looking at who's around him. He plows right past Jaques like a steamroller rollin' on. Jaques, unaware, stumbles back a couple of steps only after Khorde is already past. He frowns, furrows up his brows, and hesitates several seconds until Khorde is on down the bank before he actually decides maybe he should reply. "What's the trouble, brother?" he asks. "Women," Khorde replies, coming to a quick halt and glowering over his shoulder at... absolutely nothing. "All they do is /pick/ on me." His voice is plaintive, 'cause he's a little sissy brat, duh. "Oh." Jaques doesn't seem to have much more than that, at least for another few seconds. Then, "People tend to like doing things that get under your skin. Non-specific you, I mean." Just in case Khorde thinks he's being picked on again. "I'm pretty sure the 'you' is specific, there. I mean, you, man, you ain't got no problems." Considering that Jaques is probably the only Blooded individual Khorde doesn't hate with the burning loathing of ten thousand suns... What? He's laid back. That is totes extra credit. "But me? Every single /one/ of them feels the need to bitch and moan and gripe and moan and bitch some more about my /life/." "I don't have any problems." That makes Jaques actually smile, though like as not it's none too visible in the dark: just a flash of white that might be teeth or maybe not after all. "Right. Well. It's the same thing, people doing things they know will get a rise out of you. They just do it more to you because they know it will end up like--" A hand gestures toward the whole stompy stalky thing Khorde's got going on. There's a really long pause as Khorde actually, like -- listens to this. Wait, really? "No, 'cause even when I don't say anything back, they still pick at me!" Like there is /any/ time in /any/ dimension on /any/ plane of existence where Khorde doesn't talk back. But there is something as if a balloon had deflated, the boy staring up sullenly at the moons above. Jaques heads a few steps after Khorde then, and closer to the river so he can sit down and stretch his legs out on the sand. "Well. What happened?" he wonders, canting a look up at the younger boy. "Io hit me and Emme yelled at me and Phedre's always fucking with my mind." And those are only the top three, man. Khorde doesn't sit, but he does fall into an easy crouch over his heels, fingers dragging messily in the rocky sand. "I don't get it." He rises abruptly. "Look, I mean, I'm sorry, Jaques. I know -- you've got a wife and you're settled and --" he grimaces, not wanting to pick wording like 'prominantly Blooded'. "I think I'm just gonna go in." There's a dejected cant to the slouch of his posture. Jaques, bemused, "You do seem to inspire strong feelings in people." He just shakes his head, though, at the latter. "I don't think that really... changes it. Getting married, being 'settled.'" You can hear the air quotes there. He shrugs. "I mean, it changes some things--it changed me and Evie, but me and everybody else? I don't know. I guess I'm not you--I couldn't pick a fight if I wanted to, like as not." He smiles faintly at that, rueful. "Yeah, but people like you." Awww, bless Khordie's little emo heart, wibble panda bearikins just wants to be wubbed. (that's rubbed, not loved, for any interested parties currently out there watching, got it?) But Khor does shift his head in a single nod, and let loose at least half a lung of angst in a l-o-n-g sigh. "Thanks, Jaques. I just... I'm just gonna go get some sleep." He lifts a hand in fairwell, and rises to pace down the riverbank, back towards the settlement. |
Leave A Comment