Difference between revisions of "Logs:Not Safe"

At this time of night, no one really ventures into the bathing cavern, which seems to be the perfect time for one wily bluerider to commandeer it herself. It's obvious that Jo's been in here for some time, the woman sitting at one of the two circular pools in full, scarred-up nakedness with its waters still dripping from her. Her dark hair damp and plastered to her head, she seems to be in the process of trying to examine one of newer cuts on her right thigh with a frown, a crumpled towel set beside her along with a small pot of something that looks like a salve. Despite her clearly nursing her little wounds, there doesn't seem to be any layer of anger or irritability surrounding her. If she's in pain, barring the pensive frown one really wouldn't be able to tell by looking at her.

Singing. It's habit now that goes alongside bathing, one of those little rituals that one picks up in life and never realizes it has become a quirk at the core of being. But Bones hasn't entered the waters yet, and so his solo serenade begins with a rough humming, his voice having all the subtlety and grace of a cheese grater. It's an unmistakebly repetitive tune designed for lower registers. A sea shanty. Convinced he's entirely in his solitude, he's disrobing before he even gets to water's edge, and rounds the bend with shirt and vest hanging at one side in a clenched fist, the other with his thumb into the waistband of his pants and sliding them down over the beginnings of a v-shape where hip meets thigh. "... Oh." The form of a woman is recognized before the face assosciated, perhaps because he was busy looking below the neck before the eyes move up. "Hi Jo."

It's the singing. When the sound hits Jo, she realizes she's not alone anymore. Most women that are decent would at least attempt to cover themselves before the unmistakable male voice produces a form - grab a towel or something - but the Glacier bluerider is just not wired that way. She straightens from her crouch, keeping very silent as she pauses all activity and listens. And watches. Dark eyes catch the large, familiar man disrobing and she's not even bothering to call out to him. It's a place where nakedness is permitted, right? So allow her that voyeur's smile that's barely there along with the fact that she's gratuitously watching him undress. When he finally finds her sitting there, she's not hiding the fact that she's not looking at Bones' face - just like he doesn't seem to be as well. A light patchwork of old scars are on her body, and the thigh she was examining gets a brief look before she reaches for the salve. "Hey there, Bones," she returns the greeting with the fondness associated just with him, eyes lifting to his chest then to his face without shame. "What song is that, huh?" she asks off-handedly now as she dips two fingers into the salve.

With fingers frozen in wasteband, there's an obvious pause in him at the situation, face frozen as flashbacks of a teenaged blonde fill his mind. "It's uhhhhh..." He's forgotten the name. "It's the one you sing when you're all in line tuggin' up the mainsail." Already suggestive, Bones? "Drunken Sailor." He wishes he was. Then maybe he wouldn't be so oddly nervous. "So that's what you look like naked." He can't hide the smirk, and so he doesn't try to.

A nervous Bones. Jo can tell, and she's openly amused now as she sets the pot down and starts to lean over her thigh to apply the salve to one of the newer cuts. "'Tuggin', huh?" she seems to only echo that word out of what he says about the song, sending him a look. If her eyes drop to those frozen fingers, so be it. To his last though, arms draw away from herself in a brief but bold flourish before she's back to nursing wounds, saying, "Alas, I'm but one, scarred up woman. Just like her dragon." It's all deadpan, despite the answering smirk. "And I'm still the shit. Gonna drop those pants or what?" Yes, she intends to make him all the more nervous with her fly-by-night comments.

Only when Jo mentions it outloud does he realize that his hand his frozen in the waistband of his pants, and actually looks down to spot the odd angle he's stuck himself in. "Maybe?" Pants are still firmly on his hip at one side, but down to the top of his thigh on the other, everything tantalizing just barely out of sight. He makes a decision, tugging the pants back up around his waist, but leaving the cord that keeps them secure untied and hanging down the inside of his legs. "How'd you get cut up so bad? Looks like you lost a scrap to a pack of wherries."

When Bones looks down and only gives the tantalizing bits, Jo can't help the quiet laughter rumbling from her along with a husky, "Now who's bein' a tease?" To throw Bones off-balance, she seems to want to do, her gaze quite greedy before she seems to come to herself and clear her throat. Back to tending cuts. Right. "If those wherries happen to make ya drunk, then yes, I did," she muses on his last, rubbing that salve on studiously. Looking his way again, "Tacuseth thought it wise to chase a wingmate of ours," she explains quite casually. "A green, and he caught, so of course, I couldn' just have her on somethin' decent like a bed. There was broken glass everywhere." She even pauses to lean back and show him the marks on that thigh and the knee where glass had cut into her. "Leova's hand got it pretty bad." Concern for her wingmate, though there's probably something more to it than that.

Nervous or not, Bones isn't precisely frightened of Jo, and he walks his way over across the wet stone with his meaty feet slapping down on each step. He's not trying to make a statement with his steps, he's just a large man. "Leova? You serious? I figured her more for some kinda clay creature than flesh and blood." Mind flashes to images of the two together. Hard to picture, but entertaining when possible. "And what about them older ones? Knife fights?"

Jo is watching him intently, the convict rider letting it linger on his ink and the flow of his arm - and if it's a touch predatory? Well, maybe Bones is used to it by now. His shock at the name earns a wry, "Leova, yeah," in confirmation. "She's hardly clay. I don' think so. The glass and cuts were all unintentional. I'm sure, we'll eventually look back on all that and have a good laugh." Yeah, right. Sounds good, though! Turning to the question, she finishes up what she's doing and moves to set that leg to dangle back into the water before she answers him. "Lots of tales, some foolhardy, and some hazards of the trade." She smoothes a hand over her left thigh, revealing the worst scar of the lot on her and adds, "This one. First one I ever got before the mines. Some are knife fights, too, yeah." Eyes on his ink now, "Bet yers got a lot of tales, too," she notes, nodding towards him in indication.

Rarely aware of his own scars, his eyes finally peel themself off of Jo's body to look down at his own, three or four noteable ones along his forearms and shoulders, his front mostly free of old dead tissue. "Probably. Don't actually remember where I got most of them." Thanks whiskey! "I remember this one. Got in the way of a fishing line when a yellowfin took bait. Sliced right in." He ran his fingers over his belly, where the thin dusting of hair down his center line tucked it's way down into his trousers. There, admist more regular lines of muscle, was a three or four inch mark of deadened skin.

Her legs idly dangling into the pool, Jo studies the scars Bones points out as he speaks. At least she's looking like she's actually listening instead of looking far more inappropriate. For now. "Most of'em from before ya went in?" she asks, and then tacks on a pointed, "And all the ink?" For she's seeing ones now that have been hidden all this time by clothes, even though her gaze dips towards his waistband even if there's no flow of ink being hidden there. "Why can' ya remember? Somethin' to do with ya not drinkin', hmm?" Always, eventually, comes back to that between them.

He briefly stands at her side untill realizing that looking straight down at her wasn't going to work too well for conversation. Thankfully the pause he takes before heading over towards brass hooks to hang his still-clutched clothes is short. A moment to take his eyes off of the girl. "Y'look different than I thought. Bigger in some places, smaller in others. Hehe."

While Jo maybe aware when Bones is by her side, she seems to make a show of returning to finishing the cut-nursing she was doing. She keeps idle watch to where he goes while she brings the left leg up and draping over her right so she could examine those cuts there, when his words drift over, the bluerider seems quick to counter with, "Yer image of me has been shattered?" in a seeming tease, a brow lifting his way over her shoulder. "Dunno if I should take that as a compliment. Ya seem nervous," she observes, openly amused. "Is it that intimidatin' to bathe in front of me, Bones?" Her tone is near deadpan, but it could be obvious that she's openly teasing now as well. She even looks around before she adds, "I did leave my knives back up in my weyr, in case ya think yer about to get shanked for some reason."

Bones has to laugh at the girl's teasing, honestly thankful that he's called out for his inhibitions. He was a man who strived to have none, and the first part is always admitting you have a problem. "I ain't disapointed with you." Is the first admission as he turns around and leans back against the wall, betwixt the hooks. "And don't get me wrong, I ain't nervous about the gettin' naked part. Hung like a runner beast." There's a playful wink tossed her way, leaving it ambiguous as to whether he was kidding before he continues and crosses his arms over his chest. "I just don't know how to put moves on a girl I actually like."

Pausing as she presses salved-up fingers to another cut, Bones' first admission gets a knowing little smirk from Jo along with a blithe, "Not that I was worried about that." Right. Cocky, little.... His next actually gets her low laughter and a shake of her head, but her look is a bit pointed since the man has yet to even enter a pool since his arrival. But she does say, "Didn' expect to run into anyone at this time, actually. For some, usually my presence here is....startling," she finds the word with a brief quirk of her lips. It's his next that draws a look over her shoulder, and just a dash of surprise. Brows furrowing a bit, "But ya....how ya been gettin' by if ya haven'?" she has to ask, looking over a man that looks quite capable to her. "I mean, I know yer ain' the shy type. The things ya say and do and all."

There's a heavy sigh from him as he tucks both hands against the back of his neck and looks to the floor, still smiling through his frustration. "Man, I hate how much I been talkin' bout my fuckin' feelings in this stupid weyr." Despite his words, he grins wider at the admission, and gets back on track. "How do I get by? Same way I was fixin' to get by tonight, till I noticed I weren't alone." He pushes up from the wall and walks over towards the pool, actually stepping down into it with pants still on. "And I weren't shy with ladies till after the mines. When I decided I wanted to be a decent guy. Got laid plenty before then." There's motion under the surface as he speaks, and suddenly soaked pants are tugged up above the surface. Thin layer of suds at the top prevents searching eyes from getting too much of a glimpse of the presumably nude man underneath.

"And yet yer still here," Jo notes on feelings and the Reaches, in pure bratty demeanor, but there's a possibility that she could mean the here of right here before her. She doesn't clarify. She snorts on how Bones gets by, her crass return being, "Well. Don' let little ole' me bein' here stop ya, darlin'. Can' say I was the cause of any delayed plans." There's a crooked grin as she watches him get into the pool with his pants on, which only proves to hitch that smile up even more. To something else said as he releases those soaked pants beside her, eyes studying him, "And yer are a decent man. Far more decent than me, anyway," she notes by how he handles his pants and her lack of them at the moment. "At least, that explains why we haven'. Ya got self control for one like ya. I actually admire that." If she had a drink, she'd be toasting to him. Instead, she's toasting that small pot of salve as she continues to apply it.

"Thanks for thinkin' I'm decent." He recognizes it as complimentary, and it earns her a warmer smile than usual. "But I don't got as much self control as I'd like. If I did, I'd be offerin' to help apply that gunk you got there. Y'know, without worryin' bout gettin' my hands up to no good." He pauses to dunk his head under the water, wetting his already heavy hair thoroughly enough to have it hang a bit flatter and longer. There's a wipe at his face before he continues from the middle of the pool. "But if I had any less, suppose I'd take you up on your offer of takin' care'a myself right here. Probably hope to get you doin' the same and give me a show. Hehee!"

"If ya didn' think yer were," Jo counters on Bones being decent, "we'd be havin' a very different conversation right now." Pause. "And, I think ya kinda just told me, sometime back, that yer really liked me." Brows lift at that. She didn't miss that when he talked about not knowing how to act. His words on self control gets her laughter as she works, the convict rider sending right back, "Ya could help me." Pause. His last seems typical enough for him that she snorts lightly and says, "Now ya know ya shouldn' challenge me, Bones. Especially when yer self control has ya right out in the middle of the pool." A tease. She's not going to stop. Leaning over to glance down into the waters, "I wonder if ya'll run if I get right into the water with ya," she muses idly before looking over at him with humor in her piercing eyes. Then, almost soberly, "It's curious....ya like this. It's a different side of ya," she continues her observations like she's wont to do.

"I do like you. Which is why I'm not trying to fuck you." His eyes dart around the water's edge, briefly remembering why he'd chosen to go to the bathing pools in the first place. To get clean. Thoughts of soapsand leave him immediately at Jo's continued teasing however, and his eyes lock on her. Though not at her face. It's an odd moment that sees him openly leer, yet get comments on seeing this different side. At least he manages to bring his eyes back up to hers before speaking again. "Now you've painted me quite a few pretty pictures. Should I go over there and help, or let you come in after me?"

That initial actually does get a pause from Jo, seeming to be mulling that over since no response comes right away from her. The faint smile has an odd tilt to it, but after the moment, "Huh. I think I get that. 'Course," she brings back her brazen demeanor, letting the genuine moment pass, "now I'm goin' to think yer just torturin' me and bein' all wily to have me make the move." Chin drops and she looks at Bones with Bones looking at her. She looks away towards her cuts on that last, and there's a dangerous tint to tone as she drawls in response, "Which would be safer, ya mean? I promise ya if I get into that pool, yer ain' goin' to be safe." Dark eyes slide his way as she resumes salve application to her leg before adding, "And I've already bathed, darlin'."

"I only know one way to make the first move, and it don't go well with this decent man you say I am." He slowly swims towards her, the water plenty shallow enough to stand, but deciding to keep himself decent by staying mostly submerged. It doesn't take long to glide through the water and reach for her healing salve. "Before the mines... if I wanted a girl? I just fuckin' grabbed her. If she fought, I let go. If she didn't, well alright then." It's at that line that his eyes dart up to her face, but they tuck back down to ointment that he was taking from her hand. "Then you sober up and realize sometimes the line between fightin' and not wasn't as clear as you thought." He had made his decision, he was going to help her treat her cuts. If she lets him.

Jo remains silent, pausing in her nursing ministrations when Bones reaches the side where she is. When he speaks about the times before the mines, a brow lifts on the man he used to be. At the end of it, when he's close enough she does wordlessly hold out that little pot towards him, her gaze intent once he takes it from her. Once so, she extends her knee to him, indicating the newer cuts from the flight for him to treat as she finally says, "That's why ya don' drink." Perhaps he had said a reason long before in all the times they've hung out, but this seems to hit the most. "Puts things into perspective with ya. The way ya are. The roughness I feel, but the gentleness, too. Ya can be surprised what I can see in people," she notes, leaning back now that she lets him tend to her, continuing to study him. "What I observe of people. Yer ain' that guy no more. Decent or no. I know guys like that, beyond here, and they ain' you." Then, after a pause, uses her chin to nod towards the salve he holds before she adds a fond, "Thanks."

"Yeah well..." Bones looks a bit embarrassed, both for admissions of his past and for Jo's reassurance that it was just that. The past. "... I ain't questionin' your judge'a character, but maybe your words wouldn' be so sweet if y'could see half the things I thought 'bout doin with you." He gives a chuckle as he puts one hand up underneath her knee, guiding her to lift it just a bit higher so that he could bring one of his huge hands up underneath tend to her cut. "S'hard bein' a good man when all your impulses tell you to be bad." He keeps her knee lifted as he works a hand towards her inner thigh. "You're gonna have to spread for me darlin'."

Bones' words would probably send a blush to some women, but Jo's just not quite that sort of woman. If there's the faintest detection of a flush, surely it's the air in the cavern. "And ya think a decent man wouldn' have dirty thoughts? Have ya seen where we're livin', darlin'?" she muses on that pointedly. "They just don' admit'em. Women, too. Reckon everyone has as many dirty thoughts as the next person, when it comes down to it, and they're about all kinds of people." She seems to believe it. She lets him guide her leg, his next getting a short chuckle and a "That's why I stay bad." Though she seems to be good right now, apparently. "Mostly." Eyes drop towards that hand on her inner thigh and the bluerider drawls to that last, "I do that, we're goin' to be in some serious trouble," she teases, but there's that underlying heat in her tone to suggest it's more a warning than a tease. "Yer maybe wantin' to be decent, but I'm not. That side's done, anyway." Perhaps giving the man a chance to save himself, she leans over to pat her knee where cuts can be made out and say, simply, "Safer."

Bones' face doesn't have the usual big smile he's so known for, his face calm and still, eyes clear and focused. That's the key word. Focus. "If it was just dirty thoughts that wouldn' be an issue babe. There's dirty, and then there's stuff I ponder doin' to you." He follows her safer route, still wading in the water to keep him mostly submerged and low. Non-threatening despite his dark words. He hopes. "Maybe it's just 'cuz you seem the kinda girl can handle that kinda thing. Wonder where I might get that idea hmm?" Finally the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth as he rubs healing salve across the top of her leg, and finally makes eye contact with her.

With Bones focused, Jo gently kicks that leg out a little to that first, not in the least bit daunted. "I already got an ego, Bones," she chooses to say to that, chin lifting up as she fits an amused look down on him. "It's bigger than this whole cavern and then some. Girl like me could get all kinds of curious to those ponderings. Get ya up to my weyr properly and see to these ponderin's, myself. But," and there's a pause, the chuckle low and sultry enough, "I don' think yer ready for all that yet, darlin'," she adds, watching him work on her knee and meeting his gaze steadily. "I think ya like us where we are. Out banterin' and flirtin'. For now." And as for being the girl that could handle things, excuse her bold, "And I can handle anythin'." Gesturing at her own body and its scars, "Ain' much I haven' gone through. Haven' done. Like ya, the mines changed me, too."

"Not ready?" He questions her challenge, then questions if she aimed to have him question. "Maybe it's you who likes us where we are." His voice is low and quiet, but still rough with it's gravelly edge. "Because you been keepin' your hands as safe as mine." He finishes tending to her leg, and slowly lowers it back down, letting her return to the crossed position she had chosen before. "Safer actually. Least I had the nerve to reach for what I wanted, till y'got done tellin' me to play it safe." Now it's his turn to tease and taunt, and jab at the ego she spoke of. "Maybe you just like gettin' hunted."

So Bones turns the tables on her. Jo lets him lead her leg back down, but her legs aren't crossing. To all of that, she's silent, merely returning that challenge in her gaze as she watches his face. The smile that forms is shy of open trouble, of promise before she drawls, "Is that what yer doin' with me there? Reaching out?" But, oh, it's the last that does it. The convict rider stares him down before she's leaning forward and reaching out to grab him by the back of the head to pull him into a rough kiss. There's nothing gentle about it, nothing gentle about her, and when she breaks it, her husky tone rasps out, "Then fuck safe." If he doesn't stop her, she'll pull him towards her again, and this time there isn't anything safe about her intentions.