Logs:You're Quiet
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 4 June, 2011 |
| Who: Devaki, Riorde |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Devaki takes Riorde out fishing on one of the other islands. Riorde loses a bet, and Devaki wins a question. |
| Where: Western Islands |
| When: Day 11, Month 12, Turn 25 (Interval 10) |
  |
| It's been a while since Devaki's been out with his regular fishing group, what with the aftermath of the storm. Finally, he's finally able to rejoin his group, and the evening before, he extended an offer to Riorde for her to join them. They're up early -- likely one of the very first groups up, as they tend to roam out towards the far islands. Devaki, for his part, seems in a thoughtful, quiet mood, most unlike his usual self -- none of the normal jocular fooling around with Xoami, this morning. Riorde comes armed rather than as a passenger along for the ride, equipped with her father's fishing gear. Happy for the change of pace to her usual routine, Riorde looks alert and alive as she joins the group. When they set out, her pace carves out a space alone where she can enjoy the early hour without speaking to the others, but sooner or later she falls in side Devaki. At length, she turns her green-eyed stare on him and observes, "You're quiet." "So're you," Devaki's quick enough to counter, though he glances over and offers a brief smile to smooth over the sharp response, lest it be taken badly. He's quick to fend of any further questions in that area by distracting her, though whether it'll work is anyone's guess: "Did you want me to carry that stuff for you?" he asks, gallantly. "I always am," Riorde returns, still watching Devaki until she looks down to mind her feet. "You're not, though." She doesn't ask why, or at least not yet. The offer has her glancing up again. "No." Not 'no thanks,' but dry amusement in the short syllable takes the edge off her tone. Devaki does acknowledge her observation with a nod, though his brows do quirk upwards at the pointed no. He doesn't let that deter him, however. "If you change your mind, let me know." He pauses in the conversation as they jump, single file, over a series of rocks to the next island. He's barely breathing hard as he reaches the other side, looking back to make sure Riorde makes it safely, too. "I will," Riorde agrees as she falls behind Devaki, "but I won't." She quiets to concentrate lest her bare feet slip on the rocks, though like the others, familiarity with the islands and its environs keeps her quick and sure. She leaps a little longer from the last rock to the pebble beach on the other side and the fishing gear put over her shoulder slaps her back as she touches down. "Your friend must miss you trying to push him off," she remarks to Devaki with a nod of her chin to Xoami still behind them on the rocks. Devaki reaches out a hand as if to steady Riorde's landing, though she doesn't really need it, and his hand drops back to his side. He gives a quick glance over his shoulder at Xoami before he falls back into step with Riorde, leading the way across the pebbled beach. Most of the rest of the fishers are breaking up into small groups and heading to different areas of the island. The mind healer seems pretty confident in his direction, as the sounds of the others begin to fade and he leads them further around the island. "I'm sure he'll survive. He still has emotional scars from the last time," he chuckles to himself. "Besides, we normally play that game on the way back. If any of us drop our baskets, we have to do the other one's fish cleaning. Seems a fair deal. I'll offer you the same deal, if you like?" he glances sidelong at her, blue eyes full of amusement. Riorde glances back at Xoami again as the fishers start to fan out. "He coming?" she wonders, a skip in her step to catch up when her pause to give Xoami a cheeky wave puts her behind. "Sure," she agrees to the game as a mischievous glint enters her gaze. "But if I lose, I'll just complain about how you were so cruel to poor little ol' me." Though it's questionable how many people would see sharp-tongued, sharp-tempered Riorde in that light. Devaki doesn't seem particularly bothered about whether Xoami joins them or not; he just gives a little shrug in order air of, if he comes, he comes. Xoami, for his part, merely winks at Riorde and hurries to catch up with one of the other fishers, a young woman. For his part, Devaki chuckles at Riorde's warning. "Fair enough. If that's the only drawback, then I wholeheartedly accept," he says, with a glint to his gaze that suggests there will be no gentlemanly quarter given in his particular challenge. He slows as they near a little curve in the beach, and he heads further inland, gaze on the ground. "Here," he waves her down to join him as he crouches, pushing aside some of the rocks. Underneath, there's a mass of tiny black bugs that squirm around in response to the sudden light. "The fish love these. Pulls them in from the deeper parts of the water, and they're used to us coming by now, so it's like clockwork." He reaches in to scoop up a handful, bugs, sand, and all. Paying attention to the direction Xoami takes, she can't help but wonder, "Anything up with them?" With life on the island community so constricted, even Riorde indulges in gossip. "You think anyone's going to make the poor girl abused by our illustrious mind healer clean his fish?" She aims a punch at Devaki's shoulder, possible forerunner to the rock-battle. She follows when he heads to collect bait, coming forward at the wave and squatting alongside. Squeamish Riorde is not, accustomed to these details of island-life, and she sticks her hand out without hesitation. With a handful of sand, she starts picking out the bugs, but soon realises she hasn't got a place to put the bait. "What do you do with 'em?" Devaki can't help but to grin at Riorde's curiosity, casting a brief glance after the pair, himself. "Maybe," he allows. "Early days yet, though. We're--" he pauses, to indicate the fishers in general, "Pretty circumspect about it, to give them a bit of space, before anyone else gets wind." He, too, is aware how intense the rumor mill on the island is. As she pushes his shoulder, he staggers more than is neccessary. "I'll have the bruises to prove how abused I am, though," he's quick to counter, with a laugh. Rising, with the handful of bugs-and-sand still cupped, he heads for the water with a tip of head. "We just scatter them in the water. The fish come to eat them, and it makes it pretty easy to catch them, they think the lures are more bugs." That said, he wades several steps into the water, then flings the bugs out towards the sea, watching them settle like black rain. "Secret's safe with me." Riorde can take a hint and mimes the seal of her lips. For Devaki's projected bruises and the one she may have just inflicted, her tight-lipped smile resembles a smirk. She tips the bugs she's picked out back into the first handful and reaches to collect another, cupping both hands together this time. With bugs in hand she follows, spacing herself out so that when she casts out her bait, there isn't any overlap with what Devaki's already thrown to the water. "I usually try to spear them," she admits as she watches the lapping waves bring the bugs in and out, "when I go out with my father and Eirdan." Unsurprisingly the violence appeals to her. "This is a bit more relaxing," Devaki admits, eyeing the woman sidelong with a knowing twist of lips for her tastes, perhaps. "It scares the rest of the fish less, so we tend to get more, overall. Spearing breaks the water too much, and just scatters the fish." He unhooks the pole from his back, checking that the line is untangled. He's not in any hurry, glancing out towards the water now and then, as if watching for a sign that the fish are beginning to bite. "You may find this pretty boring. You'll be forced to talk to me for any sort of entertainment today," he adds with a flickered smile. "I know." Yet it hasn't stopped her. Today, though, Riorde has her borrowed fishing pole, which she sets up now. The lure at the end of the line is a twist of frayed grasses. "Mm, I don't know about that." Deliberately, she leaves a long pause between Devaki's remark and her response. Her eyes are on her task, following the bait bobbing on the water and looking for the telltale silver flash beneath the foam. "I'm better than you at not talking. You'll have to talk to me." The faintest hint of movement out on the waters indicates the presence of fish. Only when Devaki is happy with his own lure -- not so different from Riorde's, if twisted tighter to resemble the bugs a bit more -- does he cast out into the middle of the bugs he threw out earlier. That down, he settles down onto the pebbled beach, digging out a hole in which to brace the fishing pole so he doesn't have to hold it tightly. Apparently he's taken Riorde's words as a challenge; he settles down into an easy, comfortable posture, silently enjoying the morning as the air begins to warm up. Riorde stays in the water for several minutes after she's thrown out the lure, keeping hold of the fishing rod. Then, slowly backing up, she keeps going until there's only water in front of her and beach behind, the surf first licking her toes until she exits entirely. Riorde carves out a hole like Devaki did and wedges her pole in; finally, she turns to face Devaki. She represses her smile and comes alongside, dropping like a stone beside him. Having put the challenge forward, she's silent too and rather than speak, starts gathering the flat, smooth stones that can be skipped, weighing each contender in her hand. Devaki looks set to stretch out and enjoy a bit of early morning tanning, however Riorde's moments earn an intrigued quirk of his brow. With an arm propped under his stretched form substituting as a pillow, he watches her collect stones -- or just plain watches her, it's hard to tell the difference. He seems, at present, content to allow the silence to continue. Not even the sound of the others on the island can be heard at present. A little rock pile grows up before Riorde's crossed legs, but she quickly exhausts the stones in her immediate vicinity. Ranging further, she leans out towards Devaki so she can pick out a few possibilities. Aware that he's watching, the young woman looks up, still stretched out, the quirk of her eyebrows making her expression a clear question that she stubbornly doesn't put words to. Her quirk of brow elicits a low laugh, but that doesn't count for words, at least not in Devaki's books. His amused gaze continues to track her progress, noting the gathering of stones. He shifts just a little to push himself up onto an elbow to better watch, and possibly to locate a stone or two which he offers for Riorde's inspection and possible rejection. Riorde takes one of the rocks Devaki finds but tosses the other away and off to the other side where it clatters against other rejects. Then, because she can, the girl tosses a smaller pebble at Devaki that will bounce off harmlessly if it connects. "Oh!" An exclamation, not speech, escapes her as she sees movement on one of the lines, Devaki's. Devaki gives a faint grunt -- not so much that it hurts -- but just to satisfy the need that makes her throw the stone at him in the first place. He doesn't seem particularly bothered by her rejecting of some of his offerings. When his line tugs, he scrambles quickly to his feet with the speed of one used to diving for the line, if need be. Luckily the hole he's dug holds the line long enough for him to grasp it. He begins pulling in the line, lowering the pole and pulling it in repeatedly, until soon, a squirming fish is visible in the shallows of the water, hooked to the end of the line. Riorde drops the remaining stones in her hands and starts up after Devaki. She stands to the side, watching her companion and watching his line, and when the fish comes into view she forgets her challenge long enough to blurt out, "Got one!" Belatedly, humourously, she touches two salty fingers to her lips, which are curving towards a self-deprecating smile. It doesn't have the same comic effect of clapping a hand over mouth, but carries similar intent. Devaki laughs, as much at Riorde's slip, as the gesture that follows it. Now that she's broken the ice, so to speak, he nods his head towards the basket he brought with him to carry the fish home. "Can you grab the basket? It's almost in," he says, quickly, still working to fight the fish, though he's rocking up onto his toes as he does so, obviously well pleased with the first catch of the day. Riorde nods in the instant before she collects the basket, movements quick. She brings it over, pulling off the lid in readiness for the fish. "Here." A moment later her voice raises in mock-complaint. "They like your lure better than mine." Finally near enough that he can pull the line in by hand, Devaki hastily drops the fish into the basket, grinning in triumph at Riorde. "It's early days yet. There'll be plenty today. More importantly though, I won. Who would've thought I'd win a non-talking competition against /you/ of all people," he says, exuberant in contrast to his silent contemplation of earlier this morning. "You had the fish on your side," Riorde retorts, still grumbling as she closes the basket lid once the fish is inside. "Unfair advantage. If you tell anyone, I'll kill you." A laugh behind the words turns the threat into a joke. "I'm a fish whisperer now?" Devaki's eyes gleam as he considers Riorde, fingers smoothing out his line in preparation to cast again. "I won't tell anyone," he promises, "But, what do I get in return? For winning?" "Yep. Like Rilka and her crabs, Devaki and his fish." Riorde's tease carries over into a smirking smile. She reaches out for her own fishing pole and plucks the line, making it bounce. "Oh, me not punching you for it." She flippantly answers the question on what Devaki wins, then glances over with casual curiosity. "Unless you had something else in mind?" "I'd rather /not/ be known as the fish boy, if I can at all help it," Devaki decides, with a shake of his head. He pauses as he leans back and recasts his line, settling the pole back into its spot before he looks back up at Riorde, making a face at her promise not to punch him. "Maybe if it was more ongoing than the one time. And, I do have something in mind. An answer to a question, to be held over and used whenever I see fit." Where she is flippant, he is earnestly serious, pale eyes gleaming. "Bug boy?" Riorde extends as an alternative. She lingers by her line a minute more, but when it doesn't show the same pull Devaki's did a minute earlier, leaves it be. "One answer - that's all?" Interest sharpens her features and her gaze is penetrating as she looks for the catch. "Almost too easy. Why does it seem like I'm getting the short end of the stick?" "That's all. Well, you have to be honest, of course, but that's a given." Devaki puts a hand on his chest at the accusation, looking affronted, "As I would ever try and cheat you. I know you'd punch me if I did, after all," he chortles, as he settles back down to resume his lounge on the pebbled beach. "Why am I not surprised that you want to fish out everyone's deepest, darkest secrets." Riorde makes a wry accusation, attention on Devaki not lessening but at least softening out of a piercing stare. "Sadly, I'm known more for punching boys than for kissing them." Though she doesn't sound sad about it in the slightest. She considers him and his proposal a minute more, then abruptly decides, "Fine. You can have your question." Riorde doesn't promise to be honest, though something tells her that the mind healer will be able to sift out her falsities from truth. "Oh, I've got one too!" A fish on her line distracts her, but the intrigue behind the question-and-answer agreement is there to stay for the rest of the day amongst the rest of the fishing and talk and silences. It's a given that Riorde will try to shove Devaki into the water on their way back to the main island, too. |
Leave A Comment