Difference between revisions of "Logs:Unlikely"

Lya must've had the night shift. By now, she's scrubbed herself as clean as she can of the smell of the kitchens and is sitting on the edge of one of the large bathing pools, wrapped in a towel and brushing her long blonde hair. She's minding her own business at present, but maybe that's just because she's kept herself relatively apart from the other mid-morning bathers, of which there are not so many.

When Z'riah wanders into the baths, his gaze doesn't seem to want to settle anywhere in particular. He might glance over the blonde girl, but whether he sees her or not is another question entirely. Instead of one might expect to be a usual bathing ritual, though, the greenrider sits down on one of the benches that line the walls, leaning forward to rest his head against his hands, elbows on his knees.

It's not so much longer later that Lya deems herself done, at least by the pools and she's walking over to the cubbies and the benches. She changes quickly and then settles on the bench beside Z'riah to work on her boots. "You know they frown upon spectators." She notes as she tugs on the laces.

Z'riah does, indeed, spectate for a few moments when Lycinea moves to change. But he looks away when he catches himself, burying his face in his hands by the time she's come to sit by him. "Sorry. Not really sure why I'm here. Maybe I thought a bath would help, I don't know."

"Do you smell bad?" Lycinea asks as she tugs on her laces. Either she didn't notice where he was spectating or she doesn't care. (Probably the former.)

"No," says Z'riah a little defensively. But then he seems self conscious, sitting up slightly and pulling at the collar of his shirt to smell at it. "Do I?"

Lycinea is understandably hesitant to sniff a strange man, so she doesn't. She does cant her head to the side and say, "Well, that's what a bath helps. Maybe other things sometimes. But you're not bathing," she observes, "which is not testing your theory. Or is that a hypothesis? I always get those confused." She shrugs dismissively.

"I don't want to take my clothes off," is his, probably unnecessary, explanation as to why he's not bathing right now. If Z'riah knows the difference between a theory and a hypothesis, though, he certainly doesn't look like it, expression slightly blank. And slightly earnest even if there's not much to be earnest about except keeping his clothes on.

"So don't?" Lya suggests with a shrug. "Is there something else that would help?" Whatever it is that he needs help for. "Or you could just go bathing with your clothes on, though that sort of defeats the point, probably." She finishes tying her second lace but doesn't look like she's about to immediately get up and abandon him here.

"Yeah. Usually." It's not a very specific answer to Lycinea's question but Z'riah isn't really at his best right now. "I just need some company." Company sounds so much more formal than what he actually wants, though. "But everyone I know is too busy to lay down for awhile. Or just won't." Because humoring a moody greenrider is clearly something people should want to do.

"Company." Lya repeats, her brow furrowing as she looks over at him. "Lying down company?" Her brows rise, is it clear enough what she's getting from that? "Don't people have better luck with that in bars than in bathing pools?" She probably doesn't actually know the answer.

"People in bars want more than that." Z'riah sounds just slightly distressed by this. "And I don't want to fuck. Not right now, anyway." He probably will later, presumably. That's just the way it goes. "I'm sorry. It's my dragon. It's really hard to block her out when she's like this." A well-practiced apology.

"So wait," Lya says, quite slowly. "You want ... what exactly?" At least she's not dismissing him or making fun of him, so that's probably progress, right?

Z'riah focuses on her with a slight, somewhat embarrassed, frown. "I just need to be with someone. To hold them. Or be held. You know?" She must know. Everyone knows how nice cuddling is! "I had people I could ask back home."

The girl stares at him. It's probably awkward but she has some thinking to do. Seriously, what's with these men that need to be held or to hold someone? Hugging was so foreign to her and now... "If you make it worth my time and promise you won't make any moves on me, I don't have anywhere I need to be." Lya says it resolutely when she finally says it.

"Really?" That's hopeful. But then, "Worth your time how?" He's proddy, not dumb. Though maybe a little less smart than usual, admittedly. "But I promise I won't try anything. Or if I do, you can hit me or something." That phase is kind of unpredictable. "You're not really my type." Which is probably meant as a good thing, if she's worried about that sort of thing.

"Good." It's a good thing, in Lya's book anyway. "Well, you have a dragon. So you could take me places I want to go sometimes." She glances to the ground, "It's probably only fair to tell you I get airsick sometimes." Because this is an attractive quality in someone who wants rides places.

"That, I can do." Z'riah seems a little relieved, though he's probably not in any frame of mind to realize if he's actually being taken advantage of. Anything might be a relief! Certainly the airsick thing doesn't seem to bother him right now. "Do you have a bed?" Who doesn't have a bed? "I can't go back to my weyr."

"I share a room with five other girls," Lya answers, pursing her lips. Clearly, that's not a great option. "There are probably empty weyrs with beds," she reasons. "Are you sure we can't just go back to your weyr?"

Z'riah has to consider this for a long few moments because he's not actually sure they can't just go back to his weyr. "My roommate might still be there. Or come back. But I guess it'd be better to go back with you than go back alone." So... maybe.

"Will he care?" Lya asks, raising her brows. "It's not like we're going to be doing things," she says with all the grace of an inexperienced seventeen turn old.

"Care? No. But he's nice and he might try to talk to you." Z'riah says this as though it's not something he currently approves of. The greenrider's gaze goes a little distant, probably trying to converse with his dragon, but he doesn't seem to have the answer he wants when he refocuses. "You good? Need anything? A book? I mean, we can talk. But we don't need to if you don't want to."

"I know how to talk." Lya points out with a roll of her eyes. This is probably to the roommate but it answers the last just as well. She gets up, returning to the cubbies just to get her coat. "Let's go." Her expression says he might only get one shot at this because otherwise she might chicken out. Already, she's heading in the quickest route to the bowl.

Z'riah doesn't have to be told twice to get going. And maybe it's nice for her to have an attractive young man doing exactly what she says? Once they're in the bowl, the greenrider is quick to pin down a ride up to his weyr, already trying to wrap an arm around Lycinea's waist on the way up.

If it is nice for her, Lya doesn't seem to show any reaction. In point of fact, she seems to expect compliance without needing to stop to think about it. She's a little tense when he wraps his arm around, but that could be as much the flight as the contact. She's a little awkward when they're on the ledge, too, but she takes a breath to compose herself, with eyes closed, and then she offers up her hand to to the greenrider. "Lead the way."

On the ledge, Z'riah is eager to take her hand and lead her inside. "X'vae, you still here?" he calls out for his friend even though his path will be toward his bed regardless of whether the bluerider is here or not. "You mind taking your shoes off?" is directed at Lya once they're at the end of his alcove.

The bluerider is not in evidence, so that helps to keep things simple, even if his blue is still curled comfortably around Yizibeth. Lya pauses a moment at the end of the alcove, looking at the greenrider, probably consciously deciding that taking her shoes off is harmless before she's sinking down to do that. "Is it always like this for you? Or does it change?" She asks with what might be idle curiosity.

Z'riah settles on the edge of the bed. Crawling up onto it from outside of the alcove is the way to get in, really. His shoes come off quickly but he seems to intend on everything else staying on as he shifts back toward the head of the bed. "Always starts like this. Sometimes stays like this the whole time. Sometimes need more. Should've set up people already but she's been off and I haven't thought about it like I should."

The girl gets her laces loosened enough that when she stands she can use the ball of her foot to push against the heel of the other to pull her feet out of the shoes without the assistance of her hands. "You should probably know that I've only done this once before," and that's not entirely the truth, "so if I'm doing it wrong, you should tell me." Lya's blunt about it. Her fingers flex into fists briefly as she looks at the bed and then she's moving to it's edge and climbing in. "This is sort of a weird weyr," she observes as she carefully (if somewhat awkwardly) lies back and lets her eyes rove across a the ceiling. It's probably safer than looking at Z'riah, really.

He lets her get into bed without comment. It's not until she's laying back that he says anything. "I told you I wasn't looking for sex," Z'riah tells her, a little confused. He did say that, right? And that's obviously the only thing she could mean because cuddling is nothing. Unless you're proddy Z'riah. "All of the weyrs are kind of weird compared to what I'm used to."

Lya can't help the heat of her cheeks, though she can ignore it (and does). "I meant this. I've never-- that." If she's not lying. "Anyway," moving along, "so I've just sort of accidentally snuggled with someone the one time, so. You know. You tell me what you want me to do." She shifts her hand rather tentatively over to find Z'riah's, without looking at him. "What are you used to?" She probably means weyr-wise.

"Oh." In other circumstances, Z'riah might ask if she's sure she wants to do this. But he's not going to. "How do you accidentally snuggle?" is what he can't keep himself from asking instead. Never mind that he basically ended up accidentally snuggling with his roommate earlier this very day. He doesn't move right away when she touches his hand, but as he speaks, he starts settling in closer. "My own place. On the ground. Monaco is different. I miss it. Turn on your side. That way." The greenrider gestures for her to turn her back to him so they fit together a bit more nicely, but he's not in any hurry to pull her close against him.

"I woke up that way. It was turnover and I'd stayed over in this stupid bronzerider's Weyr because people get drunk and stupid on turnover, and-- well, anyway. I ended up sleeping in his bed and then I woke up and--" So the cuddling wasn't long, is what she's saying. "Like that." Lya takes a breath but then it's like jumping into the lake in spring. Just close your eyes and do it, so she rolls. What's more, she shifts so she's against him, unless he's going to back away from her. "I've never been to Monaco. Not anywhere South. What do you miss about it?" She asks quietly while she shifts a little more to get more comfortable.

"Well, bronzerider is where you went wrong there." He's probably teasing, but it's not like Lycinea knows him well enough to know for sure. Z'riah relaxes when she moves back and he definitely isn't moving away. His head tilts toward hers until his forehead rests gently against her head and he breathes out as though some great burden has been lifted from his conscience. It's only after that that his arm starts to move around her into something like a proper embrace. "Everything. My friends. My mother. My wing. My bed. The beach. My life, I guess."

"Don't I know it," Lya says with a sigh. It's not wistful, like a teen with a heartache, it's the sigh of one much put-upon. The things she does for that man. "He's an asshole," simply. She's a little tense in this new closeness but she must be consciously working to relax. Her breaths are measured and slow. It can't be anything other than conscious. It sounds like she's thinking, or maybe confused, when she asks, "If you miss all those things, then why did you leave?"

There's a quiet laugh about her acquaintance, but no pressing questions. "You don't have to put up with us, you know." The assholes of the world. Not that Z'riah's true colors have been waving around since they met. "My friend needed me. He came here. So I came with him." The sigh he gives does hold an element of teenage heartache.

"Women aren't any better." Lya could be rolling her eyes as she misinterprets his 'us' but who would know? That probably says a lot for how the greenrider's been behaving. "Maybe worse," she concedes after a moment's thought. She probably should say something like 'sounds like you're a good friend,' but Lya's personality hasn't been hijacked by a horny green, so, "That was dumb. I mean, nice, but dumb. If you miss everything, why don't you go home?"

"I think it helps to stick your toes in both pools sometimes. I like different things from men than I do from women, usually." Z'riah has to consider the rest before he can offer up any answer. But he doesn't seem upset by the way she puts it. Maybe he already knows it was dumb. "Because I'd miss him more than everything else put together if I went home."

"Well, maybe if I ever meet an uncrazy girl, I'll stick my toes in." Of course, given that she apparently hasn't stuck her toes in the more obvious pool either... Well, it might be halfway to never either way. Lya probably isn't sure what to say to the latter which is how she comes up with, "I've never had a friend like that."

"They'd probably be able to make you feel good in ways a man couldn't. Something to be said for having the same parts, you know?" Except she doesn't, really. But Z'riah isn't thinking about that. "I've never had any others like him. I'm not even sure he feels the same." Rather, he knows he doesn't feel the same. Not entirely.

"No," Lya doesn't seem to be intending to remind him, just to say, no, she doesn't know. "I think maybe that's normal. It seems like in any friendship there's always one person who needs the other more." She's obviously not thinking about Z'riah and the friend she's never met, but something closer to home. "It's not fair, really," she must think so because in her personal scenario, she is Z'riah, though perhaps without the same added dimensions of emotion.

"Guess so. He always seems to find girls that he needs more than they need him. I hate watching it. But I think I'd hate watching him with someone who needed him, too." Z'riah's arm tightens around Lycinea for a moment, like he needs the extra comfort, but it doesn't stay that way. "Do you need someone more than they need you?"

"Maybe that's the problem. You don't need him to need you the same way you need him." Is Lya making any sense as she ruminates? There's a slight shrug to her shoulders. "It's starting to feel that way. I never needed anyone before, really, but then, I guess," no big deal, "I started to feel sort of alone," not lonely, she never said lonely. "Like being on my own isn't enough." She frowns as epiphany comes "Ugh," comes the sound of disgust. "I bet all these stupid feelings came with these." She's tilting her head down, glaring balefully at her breasts.

"He can't need me the way I need him," says Z'riah with a small sigh. Enough about that. Talking about her issues is just as good. "Is he nice, at least? Sometimes I wish X'vae wasn't so nice. But maybe I just need to be better. Maybe he'd see me, then." Really! Enough about that. "They're nice," is his last addition. He fortunately doesn't try to feel them.

"Because...?" Lya asks, dubious, though she doesn't seem inclined to press. "They're annoying." The comment is dismissive, enough about those. "She's not really, but then I'm not really either, so that sort of works out except when we end up hating each other over something stupid. Ugh." Even Lya hates the dramas of teenage girls. "It would be easier if I just did whatever she wanted me to do, but I guess I don't think you should change yourself for someone. Shouldn't your friends like you for who you are even if you're sort of horrible?" She's talking about herself here, and yet...

"I think that's just how friendship goes sometimes. The little things build up and get big," Z'riah says without answering the question. "But real friends will like you despite your flaws. Maybe even because of them. That's what makes them friends, I think. It's nice to be able to be yourself around someone. Most of yourself, anyway."

She is silent some moments. "Then I guess maybe I don't have any friends." Is that depressing? It doesn't seem to be, though she might shift subconsciously closer to Z'riah. "I'm Lya." By the way.

"We could be friends. If you want. My friends call me Zif, usually. Z'riah, if you'd rather." In case she doesn't want to be friends, maybe. "Thank you. For this. You said you weren't nice, but you seem to be to me."

Lya shifts a little, "My name is really Lycinea, but that's awful. So you'll call me Lya and I'll call you Zif, even though Z'riah isn't awful like Lycinea is." She sounds a little wistful. "I guess we should be friends if we're going to lie here like this. It would be sort of strange to be strangers, though that probably happens often enough." And aren't they really? "Are you sure you'll want to be friends when this is all over?" She probably doesn't mean the cuddling, but she could be just that bad.

"I don't think Lycinea is that bad. But I like Lya." The name. The girl. Whatever. Z'riah considers her last question for a few moments before telling her, "The better question is whether or not you'll want to be my friend. I can get along with anyone." Anyone that will put up with him.

"Why? What are you normally like?" Lya asks as the next logical question.

"I'm an asshole, I guess. That's what lots and lots of people have told me. Xev'd tell you I'm not so bad once you get to know me. He doesn't realize he's full of it, though." Z'riah's arm moves along Lya's, trying to thread his fingers between hers to hold her hand.

Lya's arm tightens with his initial movement, but if that doesn't dissuade him, her fingers spread accommodatingly once she realizes what he's doing. Her silence is thoughtful, though the only indication of that may be that she's not pulling away from him in the least. "How do you take being called an asshole when you're being one?" It's a probing question, one evidently important to her decision-making process.

It must be a weird question from Z'riah's point of view. Especially right now. "If I'm being an asshole, I expect people to call me one. It's not like I don't know that I'm doing it. That's part of the point, isn't it?"

"Well, then we can be friends. You'll be an asshole, I'll tell you so, and hopefully you won't make me cry." Lycinea answers then. "I hate crying." She adds as an aside. "It's so stupid that girls cry. I wish I could just turn it off."

The greenrider sighs out an amused, sort of sleepy sound. "How about if I ever do make you cry, you can slap me or whatever. Or you can get someone bigger than you to slap me. I think that sounds fair." Z'riah's thumb brushes her hand idly. "I'll try my best not to make you cry, though. I hate it, too."

"Thanks." It's sweet, in a twisted way, but Lya seems to mean it. After a moment, she's even gently squeezing his fingers. That's all though. This much established, she falls silent, so if he's going to drift off, now's the moment to take advantage of.

The sound Z'riah makes is a little distant now, but pleasantly agreeable. It's not long before he's relaxing and his breathing deepens as he drifts off. Lya didn't need help getting a ride or anything, right?