Logs:Save Sneaky For Later
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| RL Date: 4 January, 2014 |
| Who: Aishani, N'rov |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Well before Elaruth's flight, Shani and N'rov discuss what's to come & N'muir's situation. |
| Where: Vhaeryth's Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Weather: Clouds make the skies leaden and gray, but no rain falls. A cool breeze often blows. |
| Mentions: Hattie/Mentions, N'muir/Mentions, H'kon/Mentions |
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| Unlike the days of summer, today N'rov's pulled the pierced, decorative doors between their alcove and the rest of the weyr, much less the ledge and the leaden skies beyond. Lying on his back, he has his feet in the air and squints one-eyed at them, shuffling them back and forth as though walking on the sand of the tapestry's beach. "So," he says finally. "Guess pretty soon it'll be time to stay out of Elaruth's way." Shani seems grateful for that, even if Iesaryth doesn't mind cloudy skies or the chill, as long as it's not raining. In the dim light, her eyes are barely open, lashes low as she watches N'rov's feet move. Her low "Mmm,' is an agreement, though a neutral one at that, before; "Are people hoping for a change after everything's come out? Can't have people of questionable moral character leading Weyrs." The sarcasm, it's deep. That gets a brusque laugh from N'rov. "Some are. Of course," and here he sets down his feet, angling them at the last second to try and set them atop her ankles, "some would want a change even if it was F'lar himself. Which N'muir definitely is not. If nothing else, if the tapestries are to be believed, he has a whole lot more hair." N'rov himself has recently cut his own, and very close to his scalp at that, in a moment of excitement with the shears. "Of course. Even if it's just because it's a good time to complain, try to upset things." Aishani's ankles are covered as she doesn't move them, but she does have to point out, "He /does/ have nice hair. That ought to count for something." Not that she'll comment on N'rov's, but there's a brief wrinkle of her nose. "It doesn't seem as if there's much of a chance of Elaruth choosing another, but I suppose there's always the chance." She's quiet for a beat. "I hope it'll work out. Be all right." N'rov's feet make themselves quite at home, then, blankets or no blankets. "Exactly." Good time to upset things, N'muir's hair, six of one and a half dozen of the other. "She's been spending time with others, and accidents happen." Exhibit A: Arekoth. Quiet sorrow weights his voice now. "I don't know if it can work out." Beat. "He's going gray, you see," and the attendant smirk might be very audible indeed. Shani's ankles aren't cold at least, but her feet might be, the way she's sneaking them up under his, slowly. Now that she's thinking about hair, she can bother to reach out, touch his even if it's shorter than she'd like. "They do," she agrees again, though his heavy tone has fine brows arching as she glances his way, lips quirking after. "Well, it's all over, then." Dismissive. "May as well get used to the thought of someone else." N'rov's feet take all this movement in stride, as it were: her ankles, her feet, they're all good as long as they're hers. Or, at least, as long as she's rubbing his scalp like that. "I don't know, woman. She might be going gray too. You know, to match. Or is it only women who get to get away with it?" Wiggling somewhat chilly toes under his, Shani's touch is light over short hair, but constant. "Women don't always go gray. Some dye their hair. I suppose some men might too." Not that she's heard any rumors or anything. "I thought it was men that got away with it, looked distinguished while women just look old. Not that," she notes, "I'd want to be around if someone called Hattie 'old'. I think she might punch them." With the blankets in between, N'rov doesn't protest the wiggling even a little. "N'muir clearly doesn't. Unless he's very careful to leave a little gray in it, for verisimilitude and all, but that seems like too much work. /But/," and here he shifts onto his side so he can look down at his girl, brows set in a frown that doesn't quite make it to gray eyes. "What, you don't want to be around when she punches somebody else? What happened to the Shani I know and love?" "Mmm. It does seem like a bit of work, for him anyway. The dying in the first place, let alone leaving the gray in." Shani doesn't stop stroking his hair, even as he shifts to look down at her. With a faint smile, "I don't know. It's possible you could get blamed by association. I'd like to be at a safe distance, at the very least. Just in case." It takes a moment, but her dark eyes sober a little as she asks, "Do you think being a renegade once really matters to people, that much? Given everything that's happened in the meantime? I know prejudice runs deep better than anyone, but..." "Dying might not be a lot of work," N'rov opines. "Some say it's as easy as falling off a dragon." If she's going to smack him, that smirk suggests he might deserve it. But, "In that case, I /suppose/ I can understand your not wanting such an up-close-and-personal view. Though you know, Shani," and he's sobered some too, "I'm going to get tarred with pretty much whatever he does, pretty much whatever happens. Because I am sticking by him. I think it matters a whole lot more to people at Fort because of what happened to our tithes, our /queenriders/, not very long ago at all. It's not like a decade's gone by." "You know what I meant." Shani doesn't hit him for that, though she does give him a bit of an eyeroll. "Don't get me talking about death. Thought I suppose being around Hattie for something like that might be close to it." As she listens, she flicks a stray curl back from her forehead, resting arms over her head on the pillow. "There is that, though the point there, I'd think, is he wasn't involved by then. And maybe you will be, but you've managed guilt by association all right so far. I doubt anyone would really think you were... I don't know. Somehow connected." "Better you than me." N'rov's got a shrug for the rest, though, and his voice is considerably less fervent too. "I don't think he was, either, but a lot of them won't believe that. Or they'll think it's only because he's on top that he wasn't involved. Or that it's 'only because of a woman.'" While he's at it, he adds with gray eyes intent on hers, "If they want to think I'm someone to consider before taking him out, they're welcome to do that." Brows coming together, "I suppose it doesn't need to make sense for anyone to believe anything they want to, but one would think things might have gone differently or easier if... never mind." Aishani seems to remember logic shouldn't enter the discussion. Looking up at him questioningly, if a bit warily, "Consider going after or... something else? It might be a little late to play disaffected, but at the same time, it's not as if you're best friends either." "You'd think," N'rov says sardonically, but he half-smiles as she continues. "If it makes them think twice, so much the better. No, we're not best friends, and I still remember how he and Hattie sat on their asses when we tracked down the fuck-ups with the Boll tithe, but you could say it chaps my hide that they're after him now. He's my wingleader. You know I don't like to play coy about my loyalties." Not just with N'muir. "Well, even with me, there was a certain amount of logic, there's things you can point to. N'muir hasn't done much that would help his supposed compatriots. And I just meant..." Shani settles her hands behind her head, her eyes a little more alight and alert now that she's /thinking/, "I meant more that there was all of that, those issues that you had with the Weyrleaders, your relationship with me -- if you /wanted/ to be a little more obscure about your loyalties to draw anyone with /ideas/ out, it's something doable. Possible, that might work." Pause. "Assuming you still want him to be your wingleader, but I get that impression." "Some could say he drew riders off, let the eggs get stolen... for starters." N'rov brushes that errant curl out of his girl's eyes again, since her hands are momentarily secured, but then makes to bounce the pad of his finger down the slope of her nose. "I could do that, but there are enough people waffling already. Who's to say I won't affect some of them," by hook or by crook, by virtue of being just who he is. "Besides, I don't want to play the long game. I want to tell them to shut up if I'm in a mood," which may or may not have to do with Elaruth's own mood. "It's going to be over soon enough." Tilting her chin up to reach that finger for a kiss, Shani murmurs against it, "I think people will come up with reasons for or against anyone, to be honest. But if you think it will cause more problems than it solves... I guess there's no sense in being sneaky for the sake of it." Though she does seem a little disappointed, though not so much that she can't grin at his last. "It is nice being able to do that. Telling people off and telling them to shut up when you feel like it." Loosing a hand to drift fingers down his cheek, "I hope it is. Sooner than later. There's nothing I can do?" She's fairly sure she can't, but her tone, but she has to ask. "Save that for later," being sneaky for the sake of it. N'rov's got a slow smile for her, for telling people off. For, all at once, what she might think she can't do. "I'm pretty sure there's something you can do. In fact, I'm certain. Here," and he bends to describe in detail just what that is, and it has nothing to do with N'muir at all. "Tell me when," Shani offers, as she's absolutely for being sneaky when the opportunity exists... as it usually does. Her grin widens as he leans in, lips near her ear, and as he whispers, she laughs lowly. If the conversation has taken a sudden left turn, she doesn't mind, not by the way she looses her arms to pull him in against her, quick and close. She's got things to do, after all. Might take all day. |
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