Logs:Whisky and Numbweed
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| RL Date: 26 July, 2013 |
| Who: H'vier, N'ky |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Post-flight inevitability. |
| Where: Guest Weyr |
| When: Day 8, Month 5, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: April/Mentions, Sisha/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Follows Cailluneth's First Flight. |
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| Guest Weyr This broad ledge is dappled with bright light in the morning and commands a lovely view of the eastern end of the bowl, including the lake and the trees that dot the shoreline. Reached by a flight of stone steps that climb up from the bowl floor, the ledge is relatively low, an easy jump down to the ground; possibly its selection was a safety precaution, so anyone stumbling out the wrong way after a flight would be unlikely to break his or her neck. Within the weyr itself is a comfortably-sized dragon wallow, rarely used but swept clean nonetheless. The cavern broadens as it stretches back away from the entrance to reveal a neatly made double-sized bed pushed up against the back wall, a press at its foot with an extra blanket folded on top of it and two chairs standing guard to either side of the hearth. A rectangular table lurks against the side wall, kept stocked with a pitcher of water and a basket of seasonal fruits. The weyr is well-lit and kept immaculately clean, the refreshing scents of citron-infused sweetsand mingling with the tang of herbs. Absolutely pliable in his spent state, N'ky happily tucks himself into the bronzerider's side, hitching one leg up to drape it over the man's thigh. With his head resting on H'vier's chest and his mussed-up curls sticking to his forehead, it's not long before he's dozing, and then fully asleep. Exactly how long it is that he's for all intents and purposes dead to the world he doesn't know, but it's pitch dark in the weyr when he finally starts to stir, no glowbaskets lit anywhere. His initial movements are gentle as he tests tender muscles, accompanied by tiny grunts of pain when something twinges especially badly. He gives up moving eventually, curling tighter against H'vier's muscular form... and ignoring the throbbing heat that courses through his stiff, sore lower regions. It's obvious that H'vier hasn't stirred much since he fell asleep considering the fact that he's still here and he really hasn't moved much from the spot he passed out in. But N'ky's stirring starts to draw the bronzerider out of his slumber. For now, consciousness isn't exactly something that comes to him but he's aware enough that there's another person here to wrap his arms around the greenrider and pull him in close. Close is good, because it's warm, and in nothing but his turnday suit N'ky does find the spring evening a little too chilly for his liking. He nestles in against his wingmate, draping an arm low over his belly to stroke work-rough fingers idly over the skin at the top of his thigh. The greenrider sighs contentedly, tucks his leg back over H'vier's, then settles his cheek once more against the older man's chest. It'll be nice for N'ky for a little while, then. H'vier takes a little longer to actually come around. No doubt his brain picks up on the fact that he's not alone at some point. And once it reminds him of just who he's not alone with, H'vier jerks to full alert and sits up, relinquishing any hold on the greenrider unceremoniously. "Fuck. What're you doing? What time is it... how did I sleep that long?" The last questions probably aren't directed at N'ky. N'ky's still half-asleep enough to be caught off-guard by the sudden sitting up, and he slips from his comfortable position down to the bed. His legs remain tangled with the bronzerider's, and his arm stays somewhat draped over him still - though the whole sitting up part's knocked it considerably lower than it was. And when N'ky realises just what his arm's against, he sits up and pulls it back quickly, ignoring the sharp ache that runs through battered muscles in doing so. "I-I... I was... I-I-I..." Confusion's caught him, and he squints through the darkness at H'vier while scrubbing sleepily at his curls. "I... um... i-it's night?" Duh. The darkness is enough to give that much away, even to the tired greenrider. "No shit, it's night." H'vier isn't stupid and he seems to take the obviousness as poking at his intelligence. "Relax, kid," is the next thing he says after he takes a moment to take a deep breath and relax himself. He lifts a hand to rub at his face before he's starting to move to the edge of the bed so he can stand up and look for discarded clothes. One might think he doesn't have plans of lingering around for very long. N'ky pushes up onto one thigh when the bronzerider seems to be getting ready to leave, a sharp, hissed breath the only tell-tale sign of how he's hurting, given the lack of light. He squints through the dark to watch the rider's movements, before he gingerly swings his legs around to touch his feet to the floor. "A-are you... a-are you going?" Out there in the Weyr, Cailluneth is still curled up possessively close to Reisoth, which could have everything to do with N'ky asking such a question. "That's what you do," says H'vier, all matter of fact and a little distant. "I know you're new to this and everything but I hope you didn't expect me to sit around and cuddle or something. That's not how most flights go. You fuck and then you go on your way." Or maybe that's just how flights with H'vier go. He doesn't have much information on flights that don't involve him somehow, admittedly. "O-oh. I... yeah. That's... th-that's what you do." N'ky's frowning softly, curling his fingers into the rumpled bedspread that he's still sitting on. "I th-thought, um, maybe... m-maybe we might..." He clears his throat awkwardly, then tries standing up - only to sit heavily back down again when he realises how sore certain parts of him are. Sitting doesn't help much, but what other choices does he have? "It w-wasn't so bad," he admits, before making an allusion to their conversation before Cailluneth hit the pens: "I d-didn't forget." "Thought we might, what? Fall in love and live happily ever after?" Okay, H'vier probably doesn't actually think that's the case but it's funny (to him) and it makes him smirk. "Good. I guess. If it's something you want to remember. Here," he says the last as he tosses the boy's shirt at him. "Are you sure you aren't-- never mind. You should get a drink and maybe something for the pain from the healers. Not necessarily in that order. They'll tell you not to drink with whatever they give you but don't listen to them. It helps to drink." The shirt catches N'ky in the face, and he drags it down to cover parts of him that typically aren't exposed to anyone else. "Am I'm s-sure I'm not... what?" He doesn't move to pull the shirt on over his head yet, holding it in place with one hand folded over the top of the other so he's fully hiding his package. "I th-thought we might, um... that m-maybe you'd like to... um..." There's a quietly whispered 'do it', followed by a slightly louder, "again." H'vier pulls his pants up and works at fastening them as he looks at the outline of the boy in the dark. "Are you sure you aren't a faggot? Because that's the sort of thing they say." He moves back toward the bed where N'ky is sitting so he can see him more easily. And maybe more importantly, look down on him-- at him. "Even if that was going to happen, you can barely sit down." His brow lifts like 'so how were you planning on doing it again, anyway.' "I'm not gay," N'ky replies stiffly, frowning up at H'vier with his brows low over his brown eyes. "I-I'm... an opportunist? I have a girlfriend." But the bronzerider does have a point, even if the greenrider tries to prove it invalid by standing up. He groans, and it's not entirely because of how he's hurting. With one hand clutching his shirt in place over his bits, he slaps the other to his forehead and sinks slowly back down to the bed. "Cailluneth took Darcielth out. April's going to be m-mad..." The greenrider rolls to his side, curling up and pulling the blanket up over himself. Apparently he's not ready to go anywhere just yet. H'vier looks a little dubious about the girlfriend thing but he shrugs. In the end, he doesn't really care what N'ky likes in the sack either way. "Tell her to get used to it. Not your fault her dragon chased. Shit happens during flights." His jaw tightens slightly at his own words. Personal experience with shitty flights, maybe. "You good on your own, then? You want me to have a drink or food sent over or something?" Which is slightly different from him getting it himself like earlier. "I-I'm good on my own." N'ky maybe doesn't sound it, but he nods from where he's curled up under the blanket. "Maybe s-some, um... whisky? And..." His voice drops in pitch out of embarrassment, "a-and some numbweed, m-maybe?" Groaning - and no doubt blushing furiously - he pulls the blanket up over his head and hides himself completely. "A-and, um... maybe... m-maybe c-could you tell Sisha I'll, um... I'll need another day off?" "Sure," says the bronzerider. About the whiskey and numbweed, at least. As for Sisha, that makes H'vier hesitate, frowning pensively. "Fine. But you'll owe me. I hate talking to that bitch." Which probably isn't a nice way to talk about your wingleader, let alone your Weyrleader. But he'll probably have Reisoth relay the message as it is. From beneath the blanket, N'ky grunts softly. "Th-thank you." Then, a beat later he adds, "I like her. I-I'll, um, see you at drills, H'vier?" As ready as the other rider is to go, N'ky now seems keen to have him leave. "A-and I'll owe you one." There's some grunted response from the bronzerider before his boots are audibly heading on their way out, slower as he pulls his shirt on and picking up a bit after he's sorted. And for whoever turns up with whisky and numbweed - if anyone turns up - all they'll find is a sleepy, unmoving N'ky lump beneath the blanket, with only the tiniest of movements to prove he's alive. Sort of. Maybe they'll hear him snoring. |
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