Difference between revisions of "Logs:The Talk: V'ros Edition"

The group lecture on flights can involve a certain amount of awkwardness, and indeed, some weyrlings made with off-color jokes during question time while others were as conspicuously silent; the follow-up sessions are erratically scheduled, in terms of time and place and order, but V'ros is called into Quinlys' office rather than a more comfortable-- for some, anyway-- location such as the Snowasis. He's the second. Telavi's lounging in Quinlys' seat with an expectant eye for the door, while the other free chair faces hers, both sideways to the table so it's not between them.

Group session was awkward enough without bringing the intimacy of one-on-one to it, and V'ros mirrors his internal embarrassment as having to reflect on the earlier lecture- that is without taking into account the fact that Telavi is a girl. And hot. And someone else's girlfriend. And a greenrider. Whom his dragon has the potential of catching one day. Awwwkward. He sits down heavily in the free chair, looking everywhere else but at her. "Ma'am," he mumbles, his leg bouncing chaotically, his hands clasped loosely in his lap; his eyes on the later, for now. Saves him from looking into her eyes while they get to the lowdown.

"Weyrling V'ros!" is the assistant weyrlingmaster's cheerful greeting. At least this isn't set by firelight on cushioned couches with alcohol to the ready, nor has Telavi 'slipped into something more comfortable' to make him more uncomfortable; no, it's just the office as it always is, with a distinct smell of klah coming from the kettle on the table, and Telavi's having slung her jacket over the back of her seat is her one concession to the warm room. She pours, adding a generous helping of milk before sliding the mug along the wood towards him, her own at the ready. They could be all set to talk about drills in low-visibility conditions, but no; Tela gets right into it. "So! How are you getting along in your weyr now that it's all snowy outside?" Into something, anyway.

Shaky fingers wrap around the klah mug, pulling them towards the brownrider, but rather than address Telavi properly, all V'ros does is stare into that milk-chocolate colored liquid. "I.. Zmeyth likes it. The snow. I keep telling him it's not so good when it's in drifts as tall as he is." His concession to amusement is the lift the corners of his mouth in a smile. "But we're right by the sands, so it's pretty warm on the inside." Brown eyes briefly move up, touching on the greenrider, before sliding down to his klah again. "Better than.. the barracks. No snoring." Because that's the worst of his worries right now. Toes of his boots nudge into the bottom of the desk, his off-rhythm leg bouncing ceasing little. "I was.. I just.. ah," he says, rubbing one hand over his eyes. This is definitely going to get weird.

"Maybe not good for you," Telavi teases lightly along the way, nodding thereafter for the warmth and the lack of snoring. But, "Hm?" He may not be looking towards her, but that doesn't stop her from waving encouragement to continue anyway.

Scaring up the courage to talk about this kind of stuff is a lot for V'ros. He's still bouncing that leg, biting his lower lip, gripping and ungripping the mug of klah. "Can't you.." His eyes close and he shakes his head. "Do you have to go with the impulse?" They're talking about flights, of course. "You can't..," with another short shake, "fight it?" Brown eyes fall on Telavi, hope mingling with blatant distress in their depths.

Sympathy colors her expression, but, "If it were just an impulse, it would be so much easier," Tela says with a sigh. "I mean, there's a little bit of fighting it, goldriders have that whole 'blood not eat' thing, la la la," more hand-wave here, "You know? And there's 'at least try not to do anything too stupid,' but that doesn't always work out." She moves on, fast. "Though actually... are you talking about the impulse to chase, not just to, you know, 'do what the dragons do' once he wins?'"

V'ros listens and watches, but ultimately falls silent for a span. When he does speak, he's back to staring at his hands. "Honestly.. ma'am.. both." Because it sounds bad, he winces, and looks up at the same time he sighs. "Zmeyth isn't.. interested, so I'm not worried now, but for.. the future. I want to know.. what all.. I can do." Which is rich, given this is the kid who still has issues separating his own desires from those of his dragon; given their situation, it's likely he's asking for his own sanity. "I don't.. I don't want to if.. I don't have to."

Telavi bites her lip; then she says, "If you don't want to at the time, you won't." There's no real emphasis to the qualifier; it's just quiet, complicated. She turns away to add more sweetening to her klah, and evidently stirring it in so all the crystals melt is a very important thing to do just now.

Hard-hitting truths might have made more of an impression. Confused by the simple reply, V'ros frowns. "Is it.. it can't be.. that easy? What about.. all the bronzeriders who.." Cringe. "and male greenriders." To him, the world is still black-and-white. Almost a turn of Weyr life hasn't change him too perceptively yet.

Now she's turning back, catching him in her blue-green gaze. "It really is, because right then... you want it as much as your next breath." But almost as soon as she's said that, Telavi's letting him go from her sight, looking away long enough to pick her mug back up and drink. More businesslike, if cheerfully so, "Are you worried about hurting him? The greenrider Zmeyth catches first?"

V'ros opens his mouth wide and leans forward, all ready to issue forth some rejoinder to that statement, but he just.. closes it. Whatever he wanted to say isn't all that important, it appears. Back to scowling at the tabletop. It's with surprise that he looks up again, his face blanching and pallor whitening. "Hurt him?" he squeaks, nearly spilling his klah everywhere. Come on now, Telavi! "No, no, no, no-- I'm worried about doing it.. at... at all."

"Well, you should," Telavi informs V'ros, her brows tucked into a definite vee. "People are fragile there." And clearly he needs more anxieties in his life. "But you, what's to worry about there? Dragons make sure it's going to be good, even if you can't last."

By the range of emotions passing over the weyrling's face, it's not hard to tell that this conversation is going in directions he didn't think it would go. "I don't.. I don't want to," V'ros says a little desperately, falling back against the chair's back. "And there's.. there's no way." He just frowns, something more troubled than his usual scowl.

"No way what?" Telavi immediately asks.

"To stop it!" Desperation still rings in his voice. It is without a doubt - despite everything - that he still thought he had a chance of skewing everything to his own favor. Reality smacks. V'ros shields his eyes with that hand again, growing still. "I don't know if I can do this." Definitely too late for that.

"Well, no, not once you're in the-- thick of things." Telavi eyes him. "Before she rises, you can try to run," she says a little distractedly, but she's still looking at him. "You're... not one of those strange people who think that getting it on is awful and wrong, are you?"

"Before. How am I supposed to.. to know." V'ros lifts this hand to give Telavi a what-are-you-thinking stare, but he's shuttering his eyes shortly after, slouched to the side. "N-no," he mutters, and promptly blushes, "not with.. someone I care about. Not a.. a stranger. Not a.. a.. guy. How am I supposed to-" and instead of finishing the sentence, he chokes on the words and slouches further in his seat.

Telavi ticks off, first, "Greens rise a whole bunch. You know what to look for, we talked about changes in behavior and then glowing--" suddenly there's a gleam in her eyes like she's just had a briliant idea, but surely it can't be what comes next, "--so start paying attention. And for the other thing... things... well, you will. You'll do it." Does she look pitying? Probably. "And then afterwards you can fret if you want to." Quickly, "Lots afterwards. When he's gone."

"How many greens are there here?" V'ros lifts his head and the hand, another incredulous expression in place of his earlier embarrassment. "I can't watch all of them. I don't.. I don't even have time to get a full night's rest most of the time.. how am I.. supposed to.." He sighs and his eyes skitter off around the room, looking anywhere but at the greenrider. For the other things, those important other things, all he does is frown and scowl and glare at the wall opposite. "This.. it sucks."

"I know you can't," Telavi says, as though that's part of her point; she doesn't object to his looking elsewhere, no coughs or chair-scooting noises to try and pull his gaze back. "I remember this part of weyrlinghood. It was awful, not enough sleep and running around and everything." Awful, and awfully exciting.

Bringing his eyes back around to Telavi, V'ros shoots her another one of those brooding what-help-are-you stares. He can't quite make himself say the words out loud, so the look suffices. He'll set the untouched mug of klah back on the table and grips the arms of the chair, letting his full attention settle on the greenrider. "Now I have something else to ruin my sleep. I don't.. I can't think of anything else," he says, dual-edged in meaning.

No help. No help at all. "Well," Telavi points out, "You are a... wait, no, you're not a teenager anymore, are you. What are you, twenty?" It's in the files.

"Twenty-one next month," V'ros answers grudgingly, scooting up so he's sitting on the edge of the chair with his hands still curved around the arms.

"Hm." Telavi side-eyes him. "So... you aren't keen on strangers; you're not keen on guys; you're not much for people... you don't care about? Are you worried what people will say about you, think about you, whatever?"

Now she gets it! V'ros eases through a sigh. "I'm worried about.. all of it. Doing it, having to think about it, people talking about it.." He scratches his chin and shrugs. "I never really.. never thought about it before. Zmeyth isn't.. he's not interested.. yet."

"That's why we go over it now, so it's before they're interested, so you can kind of cope in your head," kind of. "If it helps," Telavi goes on, "It's not like everyone else with a dragon here doesn't have to deal with it. For the goldriders it's not as often, poor things, but it's not like someone here's going to say you're a Bad Person for jumping someone's bones. I mean, not unless they're pissed at you already and reaching for something they know will bug you, you know?"

"I don't think I'll ever be ready." Since they're being so honest, V'ros will go ahead and admit that, which isn't so farfetched given that he is.. him. "It's just weird.. that we.. we're pretty much.. we don't have much of a choice." Dragons be damned! He thumps his fingers on the chair arms, shrugging, "A lot of people don't like me.. I'm not likeable, but that's.. that's the least of what I'm worried about."

She nods; she doesn't argue readiness. "Pretty much," Telavi agrees, though at least she manages to not nod again when he gets to the likeability part. Rather than speak again-- maybe it's safer that way-- she lifts her eyebrows for him to continue.

"I'm just not.. I'm not prepared for any of this-" V'ros throws out his hands to encompass everything: this room, this life, this Weyr, and most of all, this conversation. He rubs his eyes and stands suddenly, his fingers edging up from his eyes to his head, where they frantically scrub at his scalp. "You don't understand. I just need time. Time to.. to.." He grapples at the words, but like water, they slip through his fingers and he's left with empty hands. "Sorry, Telavi, ma'am," with a head hang.

So while he's having this urgent angst experience, Telavi's peering at him, and then of course she can't be all reassuring and everything; after a brief, "Forgiven," she says far more slowly, "You... haven't gotten it on with a girl either, have you. This is all new."

Head still hanging - in probable disappointment - V'ros exhales a quiet, "No." He's rubbing the back of his neck, eyes closed. "All of it.. is new.. and it has to be now. Flights.. girls.. guys.. not being able to stop it.. watching.. glowing.." His head lifts and falls back on his shoulders now, moving from side to side. Angst moment not over yet. "It's too much."

"How did you get to be twenty--" gets out before Telavi can stop it.

Eyes come to glower at the greenrider. "Telavi, ma'am, we've been together for.. seven months now.. you have to ask that? You've seen me, you've talked to me, I'm not.." V'ros negates that thought with head shake, and looks down. "I wasn't given many opportunities prior to coming.. here, and, since being here.. it's not like.. I'm.. drowning in friends." Honesty, again. "Jadzia wanted to.. but," he hefts his shoulders in a flippant motion, "for the wrong reasons."

"Well, but-- 'given'-- Jadzia?!--" Telavi has her hands over her mouth, now. "I see," she says, muffled. "Well." Quinlys hadn't trained her for this.

"Yeah. You're.. as surprised as I was," V'ros says and immediately looks down at his feet. There isn't really anything else to say about it - it happened! Or, didn't happen, in this case. "It's never worked out for me. Now.." There's the impending threat of some dude taking his virginity on the horizon.

This is totally the part where, were a harper telling the story, Telavi would rip off her clothes and make V'ros right with the world. Or, the harper might instead have him emo his way towards a First Experience... only to have a heart attack midway and die, still singing. Instead, Telavi drops her hands so she can have a fortifying drink of klah-- just because V'ros' hadn't been spiked didn't mean hers couldn't be-- and says, "Now?" as though he were going to complete that sentence.

Then they would ride off into the sunset on their dragons and Save Pern. But as it is, V'ros is just emoing to himself at the moment, clasping and unclasping those pale hands of his. "Now.. I don't know what do. I should.. I should probably take Jadzia up on her offer, but I.. this.. I didn't ever want any of this. And even if.. even if I did.. with Jadzia.. it doesn't make the rest any- better." Random sex with a stranger due to flight lust will never be V'ros' thing. So he says.

"Well, if you don't want it, don't do it," Telavi reasons. "It's not like you're going to be the bottom, at least for starters. But! I have homework for you." She holds up three fingers. Three possiby-ominous fingers. Ready?

As much as their chitchat has been about sex, V'ros isn't ready to hear it in such terms, so naturally he goes about blushing down to his roots when she mentions the bottom. He looks equally as miserable when she suggests she has three homework assignments for him. "Yes, ma'am?"

"First of all," Telavi says-- and if she's pleased by his change in color, one wouldn't know it by her businesslike voice-- "Find five riders of male dragons and get advice from them on how to cope with flights, and also how not to hurt anybody. By which I mean full riders, so other weyrlings don't count, and five riders that you actually get real information from, so you can't just go for the ones that'll tell you to buzz off and ow, you're done." Pause. "'Pow,' I mean. Anyway! Any questions?"

V'ros listens with increasing embarrassment - whether from the lingering sexual references or his humiliation in having to ask other riders about mating flights, who knows. "Ah.. alright, I'll.. do that." But he won't be happy about it! Or that's how his face looks anyway. He shuffles towards the door, now that their main order of business is done, and glances back at Telavi. "Thanks for.. talking, ma'am."

"Oh, and their dragon has to have actually caught someone before," Tela qualifies just in case. Not that she has practice with weaseling out of instructions, or anything... only he's getting up. "Wait!" It's stern. "You aren't done. Sit down now or I'll add a fourth."

No! Not more! V'ros is pinioned to the stop, wide-eyed like a deer caught in the headlights. "But I.. we.. buh," and he gives up, turning in the small space and plunking back down in the seat. He has his hands between his knees, his eyes on them. Surely, this couldn't get any worse.

Better. Telavi waits through the count of three, a slow count, unless he looks up sooner. "Also," she says firmly, "you can't count J'vain or Quinlys, because that's cheating. Also also, feel free to say that you were assigned this, it's not your fault, and so forth." But that's still 'one.' "Two, interview five greenriders and ask them for advice on being a well-brought-up flight partner. At least two, and no more than two-thirds, have to be male greenriders." Not that five's evenly divisible by three, but that's not her problem.

Crestfallen - no Quinlys or J'vain? V'ros casts a skeptical eye over at Telavi, but he'll listen in amicable silence until she gets done with listing his second assignment. Talk to male riders, talk to greenriders, and most of both have to be male. That's not going to be awkward or anything. "And then..?" Because ever the pessimist, he's already dreading what her next words will be. It's written all over that babyish face of his.

Telavi does add, though she holds onto it until he's had a chance to reply, "You can and should ask those two, but they don't count for five." So there's that. "Then, the second part of both of those is to report your findings back to me so I can help any other weyrlings in your... condition... later on." Which is to say, they aren't yet to three. But close!

"That's not.." Arguing with Telavi would be pointless, so V'ros simply holds onto the rest of that sentence and continues brooding in his seat. Possible weyrlings in his same predicament earns a brief uplift of his brow, but they come falling again with the onslaught of suspense - a roundabout look and a sigh. "Okay.. sure.. whatever you want, ma'am."

That's the spirit. Telavi rewards him with a smile, one that doesn't even show many teeth. "Last but not least, and you don't have to do it last, in fact you really should do it as soon as possible-- go to the infirmary and find a healer to explain how everything works. They're really very nice." That's it, says the backward slide of her chair, the lift of her mug. And, "Unless you have further questions, you're free to go." Will he run?

Blankness meets that last task. Talking in terms of mating flights is hard enough, talking to a real live stranger about his private parts is going to be torture. He stares for a few more seconds after she suggests he's free to go, but once that light clicks, he's gone. Standing and executing a standard salute, he's got the door much faster than he responded, probably to go fumble his way back to his weyr and cry about his troubles in the dark. Such is the life of V'ros.