Difference between revisions of "Logs:Playing Heroes and Villains"

Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr

The bowl's vast dirt floor extends in a rough oval from west to east, only sparse clumps of grass surviving between the crisscrossed pathways of daily traffic. To the northwest stand massive gates to the world beyond, allowing people, livestock, and tithes to pass beneath some of the seven jagged spires that stand sentinel over that area of the bowl. In late afternoons, their spindly, fingerlike shadows stretch over that end of the bowl all the way to the living cavern's hulking brass doors in the far north.

Eastward, the bowl sprawls on toward the lake, sloping slightly downward to allow runoff from rain and snowmelt, but to the south it's caged by more cliffs of dark, rough-cut granite. Rocks poke up from the ground here, a few large boulders and many smaller outcroppings worn smooth in spots by time and use. A few ground weyr entrances dot the wall, the most frequented ledge set up like a patio while the largest ledge services the Weyrleaders' complex, directly beside the huge entrance to the hatching sands. A more human-sized entrance, left of that, leads to the galleries. A layer of patch clouds covers the sky. The air feels cool and damp, but there is no rainfall today.

It's a good day for getting things from the stores. The sky is overcast, but there's been no rain to muddy up the bowl. The clouds mean it's not too hot for heavy lifting, not that K'zin seems to have a lot of that to do. The bronzerider has rolled a stores trolley out of the entrance to the Inner Caverns where Rasavyth is crouched. The pair has borrowed a hauling-basket harness for him. It's a pretty good fit, but surely intended for a full grown green rather than a part-grown bronze. The bulkiest items are the rugs, the rest is packed neatly into a handful of small wooden crates. The man's expression is bland; he's focusing on the task at hand, banishing all else from his thoughts.

As light as a feather, Ahruth drops from a backwing to the bowl floor and chirps at Rasavyth, sup. He places a forepaw on the ground and leans down with that leg to allow his rider to dismount, then hops away with his tail slithering along behind him to a polite distance back. E'sren is not so polite. The look on his face is calm as he eats up the distance with long legs but there's a strange set to his jaw, and as he approaches the bronzerider he lifts a breathless, "Hey."

At the approach of the blue, Rasavyth rumbles what, paired with his mental ooze, is a friendly greeting. « Afternoon, Ahruth! Or would it be evening now? » It might be that he knows, but it's as good a way as any to offer perfectly pleasant conversation. K'zin's just setting a crate into the basket when the blue lands and by the time the rider approaches, the weyrling has straightened and paused in his move toward the trolley. "E'sren, hey." It's not a perky response, but it's not moody or hostile either. It sounds a little tired, but otherwise pretty neutral. "How's it going?"

« Little bit of both, » is Ahruth's mellow reply, as he settles in with his paws tucked up under his chest. His rider stops, far enough away from the other weyrling to not be considered right next to, but close enough that he doesn't need to lift his voice. But it can be decided that this is meant to be a private kind of discussion. "Well," he starts, taking a breath to catch it all after the ride down, "I wish I could say it was going okay. But I just saw Sabella up to her weyr. She said she just came from talking to you." His lips are parted, not in a grin, and he lets that hang for a beat before he squints his eyes and adds, "She was pretty upset about something."

There's the general sensation of agreement of this being the best way to describe it from Rasavyth, but he doesn't pursue the topic further. What more is there to say? K'zin's face (neck and shoulders too!) tighten his eyes closing as he lets a caught breath out slowly. The expression might be difficult to identify. He's not surprised by the fact of it, but neither is he unaffected. It's hearing the truth of something already suspected. That he's some form of discontent can be said but the degree is hard to gauge. His brown eyes open to meet the older man's darker gaze. He owns it: "Upset that I've been a hypocrite and an idiot and been making it worse when I try to make it better, probably."

Well if there's nothing more from Rasavyth, Ahruth is all quiet on the airwaves, though there's no closed doors. Meanwhile, E'sren looks down and issues a few quick nods, yeah yeah, and there's no space between K'zin's last word and, "Yeah I know, you obviously have a lot going on. To be honest I don't... care. If you're a hypocrite, or an idiot. I don't care if you're a good guy or a bad guy." He meets the bronzerider's eyes and there's something totally new in that look, something hard. "You be whatever you wanna be. But I have a pretty good idea what's been going on, with all these girls. With Sabella, with Telavi." With Azaylia. "I've heard some stuff. And they can handle themselves and I know that, but I can't ignore it anymore. I can't have them upset like that because you're fucking around. I can't have Sabella upset because of you, not ever again."

It's not as if K'zin really has to answer to E'sren for any of this, even if he is the oldest weyrling and has the most smiles. But nevertheless his mouth opens, and then closes again as confusion shows him trying to sort things out. Instead of starting out with a poorly thought out and unneeded self-defense, he takes a breath. His expression turns serious, and his eyes meet E'sren's with their own brand of hardness. It's not the answering push to the emotional shove, it's the equivalent of standing firm. "E'sren," The name is said firmly, but not unkindly, "The last thing I want is for Sabs to be upset because of me. I offered to leave her alone forever, but that's not what she said she wanted. If I thought leaving her alone forever would make her not feel upset, I would do it. But I'm pretty sure that leaving her alone would feel like me abandoning her all over again and for good. So there's no easy answer for what you want. As for the girls," He continues with the same quiet tones, "There's not a one who doesn't know exactly what she's getting into. And not a one that wants something more than what they get. You don't have to like my lifestyle, you don't have to like me, and you can believe what you want, but if you want the truth, that's it. Right there."

One might expect Rasavyth to be pulling K'zin's marionette strings as E'sren bears down on him, but there is nothing but a sharing of serenity to keep the man from getting flustered. Let K'zin cut his teeth on this. It is important that a leader be able to hand confrontation appropriately, with dignity. There will be worse confrontations than this, Rasavyth knows, while K'zin remains blissfully ignorant of all but the sensation that he is not alone in this. Rasavyth has his back. (Rasavyth to K'zin)

There's nothing about E'sren that suggests antagonism, so it would have to be a pretty active imagination indeed that saw anything other than him being just really honest. And protective. And maybe a little bit angry, but just a little bit. He listens without any sign of K'zin's words striking a chord, though he does glance away again briefly to stare off at something, though he must still be paying attention because when the bronzerider is done he refocuses on him. "I came here to tell you the truth, okay? She wants you to give her some space so she can figure things out. So try that. But I'm tellin' you as the guy she's with, if I ever see her cryin' again because of something you did I'm gonna be in your life."

Now K'zin's jaw sets. It surely can't be a sign of surrender. There is no anger from him; in fact, he might be pulling a trick from the Rasavyth playbook by reflecting back to the bluerider at least a piece of what he's getting: brutal honesty. "E'sren, you know I spoke with her today." He got it from the runner's mouth. "What she told me was that she wanted me to act normal. To let things happen in their own time. To stop offering her help. So that is exactly what I'm going to do. She's my friend and I'm damn well-" Now a touch of fervor to the otherwise quiet and matter-of-fact tone, "-not going to stop being her friend. I can't tell you that getting from here to some kind of normal isn't going to take tears." Probably from both of them. "So, welcome to my life, E'sren." If it surprises K'zin that E'sren describes himself as the guy in her life, it doesn't show, but it doesn't sound like he's trying to challenge that position.

Eyebrows lifted, E'sren nods along to all of that and scratches the inner corner of his eye. In the end he just shakes his head and shrugs a shoulder. "Hey, if you wanna treat this like some kind of 'just one more thing to add to the pile' situation that's your prerogative, that's none of my business. And I'm not here to get into any kind of a pissing match with you about this. If you think it's okay to keep at someone until you make them cry that's your own thing, I'm not telling you to leave her alone if you can talk to her without freaking her out. I'm just letting you know what you can expect from me, if you force her into another situation she has to run away from to get out. You can do it to whoever else you want, but you don't get to do it to her anymore." Suddenly he narrows his eyes and furrows his brow at the other weyrling. "I mean what're you doing? What even is this? Is this the man you wanna be?"

Despite their riders difficulties, not much has changed between this bronze and his favorite sister. Being the favorite means she's subjected with regularity to discourse with him about nothing important. Occasionally, he'll just sit on her lawn poking little ooze tendrils at the thoughts on the outermost bounds of her mind, vanishing before he can be caught. (He rings the front bell and runs, so to speak.) Today is not an occasion for such a brief contact. Amusement is foremost in his mind as he reaches for the green. « Ghislaith, I am curious. » He starts, ooze warm and knocking insistently. (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth)

To Rasavyth, Ghislaith typically keeps the windows cracked for him, just enough for Rasavyth to get the barest touches of her outermost thoughts. Otherwise it's rather silent on her end of the exchange. Even if he's one of the few that she really does talk with any regularity. But there are times when he'll say something and she'll actually respond with words, giving him more than the confusing abstract thoughts. « Tell me something that I don't know. » It's dry, raspy as the door swings open. She's listening.

"You know, E'sren. The more you say, the more I know that you don't really know what's going on. It's obvious that you don't know me and don't want to. If you want to make me out to be some kind of villain that makes helpless maidens weep for fun so you can play hero for Sabs, that's fine. It's your narrow-minded fantasy." And who is K'zin to bust that up? The tense line of his lips shifts and resettles in to a softer line, and so does his stance. His shoulders relax. "I'm not the kind of man to treat my friendship with Sabs as 'just one more thing', but your demands and scorn belong in that pile. Because they don't matter. I will keep extending to Sabella, literally and figuratively, the hand of friendship for as long as it takes. She never has to take it, but it will always be there if or whenever she wants it. You don't scare me. I'm going to do as she asked." The unsaid but implied is: 'so you and your demands can go stuff it'. His arms cross carefully in front of him, eyes not leaving the older man's face.

« Hraedhyth is an aggressive snuggler. » That's something she didn't know, isn't it? Rasavyth offers it with continued humor. « If that doesn't suffice, perhaps telling you what I'm curious about will serve. Would you say your Sabella is a strong, independent woman? » There is a sense that this is how his K'zin sees her. (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth)

Ghislaith could be raising an eyebrow. « Well, if that's all then. » The door begins to slowly swing shut again. After all, she has other things to think about on this day. Certainly. Cobwebs to brush away, mantels to dust. You know, that sort of thing. But then, he's still speaking to her. The door stops a mere inch from the threshold of being shut. « I won't play a thousand questions with you, Rasavyth. Say what you will or go. » (To Rasavyth from Ghislaith)

She won't play the game? How disappointing. « That is a shame. » His tone colors in mock-sadness, the branches of the ooze-strewn leaf-bare trees that he reflect droop. « I should so much like to tell you about the show you're missing. I'm sure your Sabella should like to know. A drama of which she is the subject. » Popping up from behind the top of Ghislaith's fence come-- what... sock puppets? One is certainly K'zin, but with a twirling, villainous moustache, the other is less identifiable for he's a shining golden example of manhood at its best. Their mouths move at one another, but perhaps Ghislaith is simply too far away to hear what is said. « But if you're too busy... » His ooze starts to retreat with playful slowness. He doesn't truly wish to go, but won't she play along? (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth)

Basically? E'sren's done. He was done around 'play hero', a line that's so funny it makes him laugh despite it all. The rest is just more of that, though he does endure it for K'zin's sake, to let him get it all out, and when all's said and done he lifts his eyebrows and smiles. "Wow," he says, simply. "All I needed to know." He's still tense but he swallows it and shakes his head, a silent request sent to Ahruth that rouses the dragon, who was ready for something like this anyway. He slinks closer and crouches nearby. The bluerider lifts his hands, palms out. "I'm done." Drops them and takes a few steps back while adding, "Have fun being crazy. And I meant what I said." And just like that he turns on his heel to meet the blue, mounts up, and Ahruth takes them up with a leathery snap.

To Rasavyth, Ghislaith doesn't close the door. But she doesn't open it the rest of the way either. The thing is since she is his favorite, she knows how much he enjoys something like this. Maybe more than some of the others. So she won't exactly play the game. There's an odd tapping sound, like what a foot making repeated contact with old worn wood. She's waiting. -- And naturally there's some unconscious interest in the image he presents, but she won't outright say it. Instead she lapses into her characteristic silence.

Not budging a step, nor wavering an inch, the only thing K'zin has to say is a simply delivered response, "Have fun making things up about me." Then one hand slips out of the cross-armed pose, wiggling his fingers at E'sren in ingenuous farewell. He might reiterate that he, too, meant every word... but maybe he thinks that would be a waste of breath as the bluerider mounts up and the pair are away. He turns toward the bronze, both silent and still for a few long moments before the man bends to his previous task, expression darker than when he began.

Once Rasavyth realizes she's really not going to play, the puppets make great big sad faces toward the cracked door. « Fine. » She is the favorite sister, and therefore has some perks. Like the occasional bit of information without a price tag. But next time, the sentiment is shared, she'll have to play, or miss out on the juicy bits. « Well, the curtain's dropped now anyway. » Over too soon for his liking! The puppets begin to bow. The K'zin-puppet pulls away the ridiculous moustache and takes a bow. The golden one? Well, a bucket of ooze is dumped on it and the puppet shrinks, gold dripping away to reveal tall, skinny E'sren, who bows next. « My K'zin is a good friend to your Sabella. He knows his mistake and will not make it twice, even if her E'sren » In this case not, Ahruth's E'sren, but Sabella's. « tells him that-- » In a perfect recording of E'sren's voice then, « "I can't have Sabella upset because of you, not ever again," » Then Rasavyth's familiar tenor, « and- » E'sren's, « "She wants you to give her some space so she can figure things out." He will not abandon her again. He did ask if she wanted him to leave her be. She knows he would oblige if that were her wish, does she not? » Here there's a trickle of genuine concern, leeching from his rider's doubt. Did K'zin get it wrong? (To Ghislaith from Rasavyth)

To Rasavyth, Ghislaith is likely not expecting a tremendous amount from Rasavyth right now. She might not even be expecting him to give up the information for free, but then he is. The door pulls back, not to open and receive him but to suddenly stutter. Then it slams. Opens. Slams. The windows crash their mere couple of inches back down. And it's not just the green's irritation that is mixed in, it's largely her rider's, who has been eavesdropping on their conversation through her lifemate. Actually, it might not be clear until just this moment how close the two of them have grown. Then there's silence, stark silence as the lights go out inside. She'll be unresponsive to any questions for some time. But finally. « She apologizes on his behalf. » And then she's gone again.