Logs:A Stranger in the Night
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| RL Date: 6 May, 2013 |
| Who: C'wlin, Athimeroth |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: After receiving a surprising gift, C'wlin also receives an unwanted visitor that rocks his whole (comfortable) world. |
| Where: Lofted Dreams Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Weather: Fog begins to coalesce in the very early morning hours and lingers throughout the day, soft and still and clammy. |
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| C'wlin gets a message from one of the assistant headwomen, all 'Are you going to pick your thing up, or what? We'll put it back up for grabs in a couple days if we don't hear back,' doesn't matter if he is the weyrling wingleader. If he gets back to them in time, he'll find a wooden roll-top desk that's a blond wood, not so far off from his hair but lighter than Tela's. If it's ever had tags that point out secret drawers, they have been made to go missing, but if he examines it closely, he just might find a thing or two. It's not in like-new shape, but it's been taken care of pretty well. And yes, it's been saved in his name. So this is how he's found himself in his weyr, with this special, roll-top desk situated just so. Rukbat's on her downward descent, golden rays of light slanting across the weyr's ledge, though inside is a homey cocoon of light and shadow. C'wlin favors flickering firelight to glow light, and so shadows dance across the detailed walls. In the loft, shadows collect, but already the signs of being lived in show: tousled bedclothes, clothing dropped at the foot of the bed, and the occasional man-accoutrement glinting in the firelight flicker. Someone pretends to shave, anyway. Winds whip. Aether rages. « C'wlin -- » Thought is severed before it can truly begin. (Athimeroth to C'wlin) The young bronzerider sends his dragon -- who lurks upon the sun soaked ledge -- a dirty look. "Shuddup." Not very sporting of the boy, but still his eyes turn back to that desk. He moves it just so. Wait. Not right. Agitation rises, warning almost given as Athimeroth intrudes once more. « C'wlin -- » Yet so quickly does the boy shut down the dragon and his thoughts on the desk. (Athimeroth to C'wlin) "Athimeroth, I told you to shut up!" C'wlin barks out, but before he can so carefully adjust the desk again, his arm is grabbed and he's pushed into the wall. A rather girlie sounding squeak comes from the boy, wide blue eyes staring up at a familiar face. "You--!" "Me. Did you think I'd let you forget about us? Did you think that by sending nothing all of these months that you could flee us so easily?" Dark eyes peer from within the shadows of a cape pulled over nondescript features. Dark hair, eyes, lightly tanned flesh; he could be anyone and no one. "No, I-- I!" C'wlin wiggles like a worm on a hook, eyes darting to the ledge's entrance where Athimeroth struggles to squeeze his bulk in the narrow opening. "I--Stop. Look, stop or he's going to alert -- you're hurting me!" The last comes more as a wail or cry than the bronzerider intends it to. The stranger's grip lessens, allowing C'wlin to break away, putting steps between the man, himself, and the precious desk. "No, I didn't -- I didn't know what you'd want." Crisis of faith? The blond turns around to favor the hooded figure with a scathing look. "It's not like things are the same." Attitude is met with disinterest in the younger man's silly excuses. A gnarled, bony finger points judgmentally at the new, fresh, High Reaches bronzerider. "Just because you think you've moved on, doesn't mean you have, boy. Remember that. I'm to tell you..." The figure moves closer, breathing foul breath upon C'wlin's face as the gnarled hand goes 'round skinny neck. "... times ticking." Athimeroth's wings fan, talons digging, futile, against rock. But before the agitated bronze can raise an alarm, C'wlin is released and the man is making his exit. How he got up so high is left to the imagination as the former-harper doesn't watch him leave. He holds a hand out to Athimeroth, whispering, "Stop, stop, stop. You'll make it worse." Worn and scratchy, his throat aches from where gnarled fingers held it. Sliding down to the ground, he stares up at the detail work of his weyr. Caught, like a vtol on sticky paper. Turning his head towards his new desk, it's then he spots the anomaly. A small smile comes to play. The bright spot to an evening turned dark.
CommentsAzaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Tue, 07 May 2013 05:45:46 GMT. <
Well. That was intense. D: Not in a bad way! Then again C'wlin did get choked and poor Athimeroth was upset. Okay, how about that was intense in an enjoyably bad way? Eeee.
I am intrigued. o.q *adjusts Interested Monocle(tm)*
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The guard's gut feeling about him was correct, then. There's something rather fishy about C'wlin. ^^ ;)
< Thanks, Azaylia! It is time to play on his inner shady again... *strokes chin* Alida -- you just MIGHT BE right on that! hahaha! ;)
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Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Tue, 07 May 2013 05:45:46 GMT.
<
Well. That was intense. D: Not in a bad way! Then again C'wlin did get choked and poor Athimeroth was upset. Okay, how about that was intense in an enjoyably bad way? Eeee.
I am intrigued. o.q *adjusts Interested Monocle(tm)*
Alida (Alida (talk)) left a comment on Tue, 07 May 2013 07:34:32 GMT.
<
The guard's gut feeling about him was correct, then. There's something rather fishy about C'wlin. ^^ ;)
Ceawlin (Ceawlin (talk)) left a comment on Tue, 07 May 2013 18:26:19 GMT.
< Thanks, Azaylia! It is time to play on his inner shady again... *strokes chin*
Alida -- you just MIGHT BE right on that! hahaha! ;)
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