Difference between revisions of "Logs:Then They Made Out. Passionately."

Not your business(#412Rs)

N'thei's parents' farm-- Benden area, grapevines, farmhouse, sheep grazing, pastoral, pretty. That's as creative as I'm feeling right now. ;)

To Wyaeth, Nikoth seems none too surprised when he finally hears from his lost brother of ten days. « Home. » His weyr. « Where are you? »

To Nikoth, Wyaeth projects, « Someplace better'n your weyr, that's for damn sure. » He's never been one for providing the cleanest images, and this one starts out a little fuzzy-- green, rolling, sloping green hills, replete with endless grapevines, dotted with farmhouses, seen from high high high, leading down into an idyllic little valley. There's just one crisp visual in there, enough that could get Nikoth here without losing him *between* on the way. « Provided you can keep your mouth shut about it, accourse. »

To Wyaeth, Nikoth's mind tools over the visual with a great deal of care. Not being the best at betweening either. « As if we've been harassing you while you were on vacation. » Said with some vague amusement, but with a certainty that he's on his way.

To Nikoth, Wyaeth projects, « Try not to get lost on the way. »

To Wyaeth, Nikoth thinks A'son is lucky he's still alive sometimes.

True to the visual form, Wyaeth's aloft. In wide, lazy circles, he drifts over the rolling green scenery below, his shadow grazing over slow hills and narrow streams, occasionally passing over a cottage or a stable. For the farmers of this particular valley, it started out as a novelty and has settled into routine, so they go on about their work. Somewhere down there, happily situated on a grassy hilltop adjacent to one utterly idyllic little farm, there's N'thei. Passing time. Not sobbing or threatening anyone-- about damn time. « Damn, » greets Wyaeth when Nikoth makes it here on his shoddy visual work.

Nikoth appears from between, bringing that gust of cool nothing-wind with him when he arrives. He circles his way to the ground, blaring a greeting to Wyaeth as they pass each other in the sky. The larger bronze lands heavily on the hilltop, trying not to dig the ground up too much when he finishes. Apologetic dragon eyes are trained onto the wounds he's inflicted onto the grass. A'son dismounts, sliding down his mounts side. He looks around and spots N'thei. With a pat to Nikoth's side, he heads in his directin.

"Just fucking grass, mate," calls N'thei in answer to Nikoth's concern for the hillside. In witness to the fact that he's none too concerned about it, he pulls one of the long, seeded stalks and puts it between his front teeth, very bumpkin like, then shields his eyes to watch A'son approach. He doesn't get up, being very comfortable on the grass with his legs spread out and his weight resting on his hands behind him. "So. Leova." While he nods to allow A'son some space to sit in the temporary demesne.

Nikoth watches N'thei put the stalk in his mouth, looking as perplexed as a dragon can get. Hesitant, he brings his head down to the ground and takes up a mouthful of the grass. Not too surprisingly, he spits it back out. "You impressed the smarter one." A'son says, rubbing his forehead before he drops onto the ground. "I heard, from him." He points towards his wanna-be herbivore dragon. "I don't think that's going to go well."

From shielding his eyes to look up at A'son to shielding them to look up at Wyaeth, N'thei chuckles roughly and concedes a rare shred of praise for his dragon; "He's not a total dummy, granted." Somewhere above, his bronze undoubtedly rumbles with derisive laughter at Nikoth's stupidity, feels inherently superior by comparison. "Never has, for her and me, but she'll be the worse for it eventually." And nothing of apology in his voice. For ten days of home-cooked meals and decent labor, he looks fit and unbroken and able to converse like a human being again. "You and her, though? What happened there."

A'son just shakes his head and looks away from Nikoth. "You can't go in and pirate her weyr." He says simply, rolling his eyes to watch as Wyaeth roams the skies above them. For the other question, he lifts his shoulders. "I was saying hello to Persie a few nights after I got in. I had an arm around her, was being a little close. Nothing out of line. She decided that was the opportune time to get Milani and spring her on me. Supposedly it was to help, but I think it was something different. She knew what it looked like. What it would like to Milani."

N'thei's look is blatant: Like hell he can't. Of course, the blind self-confidence is at odds with the fact that he /ran home to his mom/, but denial-- it ain't just a river in Egypt. A'son's story, though, gets his attention pretty quickly. One eyebrow hitches up at an arm around Persie, the second follows it at the springing of Milani. "Meddling little bitch, isn't she. You cleared it up with Milani yet?" That's a roundabout way of asking if they're screwing again, yes.

He catches that look and lifts his eyebrows. A hand is lifted up and he silently gestures around to the surrounding countryside. Oh yeah? "No." For the other thing, A'son's expression changes to one of annoyance. "Yeah, she is. I let her know that I wasn't going to be okay with that. I think she's going to stay clear of me for awhile." Milani's name and clearing up make him look uncomfortable. "It's cleared up. For the most part. For now."

N'thei, following the hand back to its owner, takes a moment to express something else with a look: size discrepancy between himself and A'son, which can only be that much more between himself and Leova. "She'll get hers," he concludes, for both of them. He can respect a man for being evasive about his relationships, or lack thereof, so there's a nod and a subdued, "Good to hear it. Fall off the wagon in all this?"

"Do me a favor and don't personally give it to her." A'son leans back onto his elbows and continues to survey the skies. "I haven't had anything since the night with Leova. Or rather the morning after, if we're being specific on it." He blows out some air. "When are you coming home?"

No? N'thei seems confused by the idea that there's any other alternative. You want a job done right... "So. Yes. You fell off the wagon," he concludes with a sorrowful shake of his head, so so disappointed in his buddy. Tsk. There's only a shrug to answer the last question, then a contented look across the valley. "So you and Persie?" Cough.

"I hadn't gotten on it." A'son wiggles a finger. Technicalities. He doesn't seem too concerned about whether he fell on or off. He looks around the valley, eyeing N'thei. He ignores his question about Persie, like he basically ignored his question about coming home. "When?" He insists.

N'thei, smirk; "That's a brave card for you to play, brother. Considering." This is a very forthcoming conversation~!

A'son rolls his eyes and asks again. "When?" So forthcoming.

"When I'm ready to." Better?

"If I punch you in the face will that make it happen any time sooner?"

N'thei considers. Briefly. "Does that seem like something you're likely to do?" One more time, leaning a little to the side, he eyes the size discrepancy here.

"If it'll make you come back home and stop moping around the country, then yes. I'll even accept the fact that you'll beat me into oblivion. And that I'll probably die." A'son says matter of factly.

Easy; "Won't." N'thei squints like he's still mulling things over though, whether or not it might still be worth it if it'd mean beating A'son to a pulp. No; head shakes, then lowers toward the content little farmhouse down the hill. "Didn't invite you out here to talk me in to going back to the Reaches, you know."

"What am I doing out here?" A'son asks, looking down at the house.

N'thei answers happily, "Giving me someone to talk to that's not six years old, eight months pregnant, or my mom. Lucky you?"

"Well, I hope you enjoy a contented life down here at the farm. Let me know when your first child is on its way and then when you're planning its first birthday party. Or alternately let me know when you get bored and feel the need to gamble, drink until you're unconscious or ready to just not live out your entire life on a fucking farm growing fucking plants and breeding lifestock." A'son announces as he gets to his feet.

N'thei stays where he is. It's lovely down here on the grass. "Not like we're breaking up, stud. Don't get your panties in a twist." Squinting against the sun, which probably makes A'son look very shadowy and impressive, he adds, "Why so pissy?"

"I'm being pissy because big bad tough N'thei is out here cowering in his mama's skirts. This is ridiculous. If this was a place that really bad you so happy, you wouldn't have left it. But you did, which should tell you something. You're just hiding here because everything else is horrible and you can't face it." A'son steps away from his friend on the ground.

The start of a rebuttal, but no. N'thei doesn't get his mouth around the words by the time A'son's moved on to the next phase of his pissiness. "This is where I should toss out 'takes one to know one?' Aw hell," and he pushes up to his feet, takes time to unwind himself after sitting there for so long.

A'son chews on his lip and looks absolutely perplexed. "Yeah, it is. It's also where you let me have it for being... something. Not 'awww hell'." He kicks at the grass.

"Listen, brother," N'thei begins, quite calmly. For anyone. Which is exceptionally calm for him specifically. He dusts some grass of the back of his pants, takes steps to cover the distance. "I'm here till I want to go back there, that's all I can tell you for time. I'm here because I wanted to throw her off that fucking ledge and couldn't do it, and I'm not sure which is worse-- wanting to or being unable to. Now, if you still need to huff off and go tell people I turned into a big girl, I won't stop you, but it would be a load off if I thought there'd be a handshake and a welcome-home waiting for me." Speech-y.

For someone with a rather large man covering the distance between himself and a running start, A'son looks relatively calm. Considering he's likely said some things to piss off this rather large man. "Wanting to. A step in the right direction for not doing it. If that helps." He comments without being asked. He makes a move to push him semi-roughly in the chest, unless he's blocked. "I'm not going to huff about you behind your back. Just to your face. I can't say I'm going to shake your hand when you come back. I might... nod at you. But I'll say welcome-home. I'll get you a glass of water. But nothing crazy."

Reflexive; "Don't fucking touch me." That's just one of those old habits that die hard, along with standing stock still so being shoved has no visible affect on N'thei. Hard to scare people if 5'10-and-rangy pushes you off-balance, see. "And don't tell people where I am. They ask, consider it practice for growing a pair on your own and tell them it's none of their business." But thanks for coming? Thanks for not turning his back on a friend? Or would that just be too weird.

"I'll tell everyone where you fucking are." Pause. "Don't tell me what to do."He makes a few swift steps away, getting closer to Nikoth and further from him. Then a smirk. "Your secret is safe. I didn't even see you, you're a ghost." A few more steps and he's practically to his dragon. "See you around, brother."

N'thei folds his arms and watches A'son's departure, quietly tracking the movement of someone with somewhere to be-- as opposed to his own kinetic-free state. « Can't believe you ate grass, you horse's ass, » sends them off.

Without a further word, A'son is with Nikoth and they're taking to the sky. « Can't believe you haven't tried it yet. » Then they're gone.