Logs:What a long, strange trip...
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| RL Date: 9 May, 2011 |
| Who: Taikrin |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Taikrin is having a crisis of faith. Also, one of whiskey. Actually, maybe it's a crisis of faith /in/ whiskey. See what happens when you worship alcohol?! |
| Where: Taikrin's Weyr, HRW |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
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| It was a restday, and all Taikrin wanted to do was to get wrecked and get laid - preferably in that order. Shells, forget the girl - I'll be happy enough if I can just find that sharding whiskey bottle. She hunted through her ransacked weyr, shifting aside dirty clothes and empty bottles in her quest for that one elusive drink. Szadath looked on, neglecting the blinding afternoon sun in favor of keeping a close watch on his rider. « You already looked there, » he pointed out impassively. « Are you sure you have one left? » "Yeah, Szad, I know I didn't drink it. I just got the blasted thing, and I was gonna save it, you know?" She let out a gusty sigh, allowing herself to collapse backwards onto her unmade bed with boneless grace. "This sucks." --- A sevenday earlier: "Faranth, Taikrin, you look like crap." The insult stung, coming as it was from a woman who'd given birth to an impressively sized baby boy no more than three days ago. All the brownrider could do was bare her teeth in a rueful smile to her younger sister. "Oi, maybe if I'm lookin' so crappy, Laira, I ought to just take me, my sorry hide, and my sorry presents back to th'Weyr, like, see if maybe some /other/ baby--" The younger woman relented, flinging her arms around her sister's wiry form to halt her halfway to the door of her little cothold. "I'm only teasing, Taikrin, honestly! Don't be like that. Come, sit down, stay awhile. The baby'll be up soon, and I want you to meet her." As if by magic, no sooner had Taikrin allowed herself to be settled in a chair by the hearth then a thin wail echoed from the sleeping chamber. Laira disappeared briefly, though her cooing noises were clearly audible, then returned a moment later with a squirming bundle wrapped in a green blanket. "There, there, hush--see? It's okay. Your aunt Taikrin's here to see you, there's a good boy, don't show her such a sad face!" Laira soothed the newborn, rocking him instinctively against his tendency to fuss. She settled down onto the seat beside Taikrin, crowding against her despite the brownrider's sudden, paralyzing tension. Shells, he's so /small/...! She reached out a tentative hand towards the wriggling bundle, both fascinated and terrified of how fragile the boy appeared. It was too much to bear, and all at once she snapped to her feet, pacing towards the satchel she'd left by the entrance. The brownrider's mouth starting running, desperate to hide her trepidation. "Brought something for 'im. Ain't no thing, but I saw it couple sevens ago, at a gather, and Szad thought it was nice, so I figured maybe something to keep him company, you know?" A new bout of nervousness seized her, despite the warm smile on her sister's face as she turned to watch Taikrin. "What did you find?" Reaching into the bag, her fingers wrapped around the smooth fabric, clenching spasmodically. This was stupid, she's going to hate it, she's going to laugh, Faranth, I can't give this to her-- « Taikrin. Chill. I picked it, and it's perfect. » Szadath's voice was a burst of cold, roaring reality that blasted through her head, whisking away her doubt and uncertainty. Taikrin barreled forward, taking advantage of this loaned confidence, and pulled the stuffed firelizard from her bag. "Found 'im, thought he looked, you know, a little familiar." The firelizard was a light shade of brown, sewn with thick, plush limbs that bore no small resemblance to the dragon resting out in the field. "Something to watch over you guys." As Taikrin approached, toy in hand, the blinding smile on her little sister's face suddenly made all her worries, all her problems and fears and insecurities, a little more distant. --- Taikrin shifted on her bed, still restless. A finger toyed with her newest scar, tracing the raised line beneath her shirt over and over. It hadn't healed as well as she would have liked, despite the care she'd gotten. Gentle pressure turned into a stretchy almost-pain as she mindlessly worked the scar tissue. Thoughts of how she'd gotten it, though, of the fight that'd taken place and the urges that had sent her seeking out that bar, ran up hard against the mental block she'd put in place to protect Szadath. With a shudder, she flung herself back to her feet and began pacing. « Taikrin... » She ground to a halt in front of her dresser and glared at the three empty bottles that sat there like a rebuke. Her fist thudding into the hard wood set them to clanking, but it didn't refill them no matter how loudly she cursed. "Flaming scorch it, I need--I need--fuck!" « ... Taikrin...! » Whirling around, she had no thought in her head except that she was crawling out of her skin with nervous energy, and she just had to make it go away. She found herself kicking the wall, over and over again, unable to stop despite the ache that was slowly spreading up her booted foot. « Taikrin! » Overwhelming echoes and shattering cold wrapped around her like a blanket, smothering her in Szadath's urgent concern. She found herself pressed against his side, unsure of how she'd gotten there. He cupped a wing over her, fiercely protective, as she buried her face in his spicy-familiar scent. "I don't know what to do, Szad. I dunno how to fix it, I dunno how to make it stop, I just--" The brown rumbled, reassurance she could feel down in her bones, and she pulled in a shuddering breath. « Whatever you want. We'll do it together. We're the best, together. » Another voice echoed in her head, hushed and feminine: memories of her sister, complete newborn clutched to her chest. He's your family, and he'll always love his awesome Aunt Taikrin and her adventures. You'll be around to take him, right? Szadath rustled through her head, brushing up against the walls she'd erected with uncharacteristic gentleness. It was he that sifted through her mind, seeking carefully amongst her most treasured memories. And one held precious above all others, softer and more delicate, maybe, but with hidden strength. Do something about it. Take the step. Let me help you. She lay still, letting herself, for once, just be. Memories of sweetness filling her head, the feel of Szadath's bulk, warm beneath her cheek. Everything seemed to be balanced on a knife-thin edge. She could feel herself teetering over the brink; on one side loomed everything she'd locked away behind a wall of fear and alcohol, all the terrible things she'd done and continued to do. On the other was Szadath, his steadfast love wrapping around her and through her, the thickest of the ties that bound her to those she held closest. For one brief, shining moment, it was all clear. What she had to do. What she needed. What they both needed. Neither spoke as Taikrin pulled herself up the brown's straps, clipping herself in even as she allowed herself to sink further within him. As one they moved towards the ledge, and it was just before he unfurled his wings that she let the barriers drop - quick, like lancing an infection. She laid herself bare to him, and in return he simply, silently, wrapped his mind around hers. No need for digging, for prying, for examining the hidden thoughts that stained her mind. There was only them, together, pushing their wings to the limit as they raced the wind up and out. They didn't have a destination in mind - didn't need one. All they needed was this: two minds, wrapped up in each other as they hadn't been since the first months following impression, driving themselves on for nothing but the sheer joy of feeling their young, strong bodies defying gravity with every wingbeat. They were together. They were free. It was hours before they got back, both feeling strangely loose and empty behind the bone-deep exhaustion. Taikrin still felt numb, still felt that knife-edge balance, but it was a sort of balance. It was more than she'd had for nearly as long as she could remember, and she was doing her best to hang on to that feeling, to cling to it as ward against the gentle pull exerted by the Snowasis. As she dragged herself through the nighthearth on her way towards the baths, it was just luck that she happened to be twisting in just the right way to catch sight of the note. Treasure maps? Search? I wonder if it involves a lot of flying straight...
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